#but jesus i literally bought these like 3 months ago

[depoteka]

i bought winter shoes mid october and now it's mid january and they're unusable when it's wet outside. so fucking annoying

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 3

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic asshole. After their moment at the wrap party, Tom shows up at Parker's bookstore. How is it possible someone can be such an asshole when asking for a favor?

read the story here: prev / next

Two weeks later finds the weather outside shifting with the first hint of autumn; cooler temperatures in the morning greet Parker when she walks to work, and the coffee shop next door has started advertising their new fall drinks of pumpkin spice and cinnamon tea. She's seen her brother every day since the wrap party—partly because he always makes a point of taking some down time after finishing a movie to recover from his stunts, and partly because her and Jody have become fast friends—but she hasn't seen Tom since their moment in the bathroom.

She suspects that's for the best. The internet is flooded with paparazzi photos of him flouncing around town with models every other day, and she's still trying to forget how natural it felt to laugh with him.

But despite her brother's newly open schedule, and Jody's constant pestering to go spend a day at the beach, Parker finds her bookstore just as empty as always.

There are a few stragglers here and there throughout the day. Sometimes she gets lucky when a tour bus stops for gas and snacks, allowing an ensemble of tacky dressed tourists to flood her street for twenty minutes. On unlucky days, Mr. Chamberlain will stop in to peruse her historical section; but he doesn't have any sort of schedule or income, and those visits consist entirely of him describing last night's CSI episode to Parker before trying to set her up with his grandson. Once he bought a book from her dollar bin. He attempted to return it three days later.

On days like today, Parker is visited by a sixteen-year-old named Melissa who hangs out every so often while her mom attends overpriced Pilates in the studio down the block.

"...and then Peter was all 'no, sorry Mandy, I'm not interested". Like, hello! My name is Melissa and we've lived in the same neighborhood since we were four," said teenager was droning on from her spot atop the upcycled reading chair in the corner. She never failed to impress Parker with how much she could talk—the stories quite literally never stopped coming—while at the same time she managed to read about four books a week. Parker suspected that Melissa's brain represented something like the Rainbow Road in Mario Kart, when the music got a little too fast and the turns were a little too hard to keep up with. "Now, I have no idea what I'm going to do. There's no one else for me to ask since it's three weeks away."

Parker, only half-listening to the story, hummed from her spot two rows back. She had won several boxes of books at a local auction about a month ago and had done a pretty good job at pretending they didn't exist.

Ignoring the problem only lasted so long, however, and this morning she had ended up spilling coffee all over herself when her sneaker caught the edge of the box. Pride—and knees—damaged, she decided to tackle the issue first thing in the morning.

It was now four in the afternoon, and the books were mocking her.

"Can't you just go alone?" she asked.

"Go alone? Are you crazy! That's, like, really sad, Park," Melissa explained. She couldn't see her, but Parker could feel the judgmental look the teen girl was giving her. "Only losers go alone to dances."

"Baby did it."

"Who?"

"Baby. You know? You don't put Baby in a corner? That one."

A tut. "You should really update your references."

"Jesus. Since when did Dirty Dancing become an outdated reference?" she muttered while inspecting the spine of a mystery novel from the 70s. It had definitely seen better days, and when she shifted it, three pages fell out. Parker tossed it into the TRASH box with a sigh. "Is going to a dance with your friends considered outdated too?"

"That's the same thing as going alone," Melissa groaned.

"How? You're literally not alone."

"Because if I go with my friends, that means that I couldn't get anyone that wasn't a friend to agree to go with me. I don't need the whole school thinking that I'm a total loser."

"I went with my friends and had a blast. And I'm not a loser."

There was no response other than silence, and after a few moments Parker realized that if Melissa had nothing to say about the subject, she likely had nothing nice to say.

She cleared her throat before moving onto the next, and final, box hoping that there would be better books in it. So far, her KEEP pile was looking pathetically small compared to what was about to be binned. With a forced change of conversation, she asked, "hey, you grew up here, right?"

"Sure."

"Did you know the Sawyers?"

"Like, Miss Sawyer? Down on Oakcrest?"

"The fancy old house with the bushes shaped like dogs. I bought a bunch of books at her estate sale, and so far, they all suck. I thought she was supposed to be a big collector or something."

The sound of Melissa humming echoed throughout the empty store, and Parker peeked around the bookshelves to spot the girl lying upside down on the chair; Doc Martens stuck up in the air, long ponytail hanging to the ground as she played on her phone.

Parker rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, totally. But she collected those kid's books. Original copies or whatever. Mom said she paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for some rabbit book."

"...Peter Rabbit?"

"I guess," Melissa shrugged. There was a loud smack of gum popping before her voice rang out, "she did a bunch of donations to local art musuems and galleries and stuff. A phila-something—"

"Philanthropist?"

"—and there was some big deal about her donating everything to some charity. Mom was talking about it. Which, like, good for them or whatever but I don't understand how donating an old book is helping solve world hunger."

Parker let her head drop against the beat-up cardboard box in front of her, something despondent and miserable sitting on her chest at the realization that she had wasted time and money on nothing but crap. "Well, I wish I knew that before I went into a bidding war over this garbage. Are the Hardy Boys still cool or is that dated too?"

A judgmental laugh floated back. "Um, their name is pronounced Hemsworth, Park."

"I meant—" she started, before realizing that this was a battle she was never going to win, and even if she wanted to try the musty smell resonating from these boxes of crap had burned through her daily allowance of braincells. Something Melissa didn't seem to worry about as she puffed from her vape pen. "Forget it."

Not so shockingly, Melissa did not, in fact, forget it. Instead, she spent the next ten minutes describing in scary detail each Hemsworth brother, their looks on a scale of one to ten, their best movies, and why Chris was the dreamiest of them all. His hair and eyes were a big selling point, apparently, and as Parker listened to the teenager drone on, she couldn't help but wonder if Chris Hemsworth used box dye too.

So wrapped up in her own world of book sorting, Parker didn't notice when the front door opened with a tinkle of the bell until the shop went eerily quiet. Melissa, it seemed, had finally found a reason to shut up.

"I never liked Chris all that much," Parker said as she slowly gathered the KEEP bin and hefted it off the floor. Her lower back ached at the strain. Jesus, maybe I am old. Moving towards the front counter, she continued musing, "There's something about him in the first Thor movie, when his eyebrows were all bleached, that kind of turned me off. I think there's a word for that, right? The ew or something...."

She spots Melissa first.

The girl is sitting upright in the chair now, face flushed a deep scarlet red with a book held tightly in her lap as she pretends to read through it. Her phone and vape are nowhere to be seen, and she doesn't so much as glance up when Parker strides by.

"What happened to you?" she asks with an amused quirk of the brow. Melissa doesn't respond, and Parker turns to set the heavy box of books on the front counter when she spots the other person in the room. "Oh, sorry. I was in the back. Can I help—?"

It shouldn't surprise her as much as it does, but Parker blinks to find Tom Ryder standing on the other side of the counter staring at her with raised brows.

Tom fucking Ryder.

He looks better than the last time she ran into him. He has a nice tan going underneath a funky pair of yellow sunglasses that are, in her opinion, too big for his face. They look a little absurd with the whitewashed denim jacket he's wearing, but the yellow matches the bedazzled t-shirt he has on underneath, so she suspects it's some sort of fashion statement. Paired with an expensive pair of well-polished boots, it all looks quite absurd standing in the middle of her dilapidated bookstore.

Even more so when Parker realizes she's wearing nothing but a pair of cheap cargo shorts and an oversized Twilight sweatshirt that was covering the coffee-stained shirt underneath. (Team Jacob, always).

"Tom. Um... are you looking for Colt or something?"

In typical Ryder fashion, he ignores her question entirely to do a slow spin; blue eyes tinted by his glasses trailing over everything in sight. She can feel the judgement from across the counter, and when he finally fixes his sights back on her, his smirk is rage inducing. "This is your store. Seriously?"

Parker promptly plants her hands onto her hips with a scathing glare.

"Ok, what do you want?"

"Jesus, no wonder this place is empty," he drawls, a pointed smile tossed towards Melissa's prone form as he leans an elbow onto the counter. At being noticed, the teenager ducks her head behind the spine of her book as if she had just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "Do you talk to all your customers like that?"

"Just the assholes," she retorts. Over Tom's shoulder she catches Melissa's book dropping down two inches, and the girl's face is completely aghast.

What are you doing! she mouths, that's Tom Ryder!

Parker rolls her eyes. As if she didn't know who the blinged-out asshole standing in her store was. Speaking of—he's still standing there smirking at her. "That's you, if I wasn't clear. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Tom snorts. "I think I got that after the fifth time you said it."

"And yet..." she gestures vaguely to him, then to her store.

Because he's never behaved like a normal person, however, Tom doesn't seem to mind the insult or the offhand comment that she didn't want to deal with him. Instead, he smiles while his gaze drifts from judging the bookstore to judging Parker. He gives her a glance over—up, down, lingering on her oversized sweatshirt, before going back up—and finishes with a snort. "If the door hits me, I'm suing for damages, and I doubt you could afford the lawsuit. Let alone a lawyer."

God! What. a. fucking. asshole!

Parker bites back the insult knowing that it won't do any good. They've played this game before, and clearly being called an asshole seemed to have lost some of its bite over the weeks. So instead, she forcefully returns her attention to the cardboard box and slowly starts sorting the books into categories. "Fine. Can you just tell me what you want so I can get back to my life?"

He shifts against the counter and over the mustiness she catches a waft of his cologne when he grabs a book at random from her pile. "Why else do people come to a bookstore? I want a book."

Parker snorts. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Seriously, what do you want?"

There's a moment of silence. She glances up to find him pointedly ignoring her as he flips through the book at random.

"You're... serious?"

He shrugs. "You said you have a bunch of sci-fi books."

"I'm surprised you even remember that given the whole," she sticks a finger into her mouth and mimes throwing up. He doesn't find it funny or cute and responds with a disgusted glare. Parker rolls her eyes with a shake of the head. "It was a—never mind. Why not order off of Amazon? I thought you said you've never even been to a bookstore before?"

This time, it's his turn to roll his eyes. He drops the book with a thwack before turning his attention to the overstuffed bookshelves at her left. At random, he starts ambling towards one. "You should be flattered that I picked your little store to start. Most people would kill to say that you know. Tom Ryder explores rundown bookstore in the shitty side of LA. If you had a picture, the paps would run it in every paper by tomorrow morning," he huffs.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to document this monumental occasion forever," she snarks, but follows after him anyway. His pattern is half-hearted; poking books here and there, glancing for hardly a second, before moving on. "And my store isn't rundown. It just has some... character."

He snorts over his shoulder. "That's what a Mom says when her daughter is ugly."

"Don't you go through PR training or something?" she scoffs as he diverts to a different aisle. "I can't imagine Gail would like to hear that particular opinion if I sold it to TMZ."

"Gail would sue you for everything you own," he laughed while flipping through an old copy of Gone with the Wind. Parker crosses her arms at him with a glare, and in response Tom flashes a too-white smile at her. "She freaked out about the mink rug, by the way. Was screaming and everything. It was hilarious."

Parker's heart stopped in her chest, but when there was no continuation of the joke—haha I can't wait to see you served with papers!—she furrowed her brows at him. "You didn't tell her it was my fault?"

A shrug as he shoved the book against her chest.

She huffed, turning the book over to check for damages, but when he turned his back... well, a part of her did wonder why he would keep that a secret if it was such a big deal. Was it to be nice? Or so he could hold it over her head indefinitely? Then again, if this was his attempt at blackmail, letting it go for two weeks seemed like the wrong way to go about it.

Deciding not to linger on unsolvable riddles, Parker returned the book to the end cap he had found it on and asked, "so, does this mean you've decided to audition for that sci-fi part after all?"

Her question went unanswered as Tom paused in front of the SEX & SEXUALITY section. He pulled a wrinkled copy of Fifty Shades of Grey off the shelf and waggled his brows at her pointedly. "Keeping the good stuff for yourself, huh?"

Parker responded by snagging the book out of his hand and stuffing it back into place. "You break it, you buy it applies here too, Ryder."

"Half this place is broken," he said with a pointed glance at the flickering overhead light. "I still can't believe you own this shithole."

"I happen to love this bookstore—"

"Oh, trust me, I can believe that you would own a bookstore," he said, and while there was nothing insulting about owning a bookstore on its own, the way that Tom spoke made it clear that owning a bookstore was not something he held in high regard. Then again, he spent all his time reading shitty scripts, so what would he know? "I just can't believe that you would own this bookstore. Like, you actually paid money for this place?"

"If you have to know, I used to be friends with the owner, and got a good deal on the property," she started to explain. He raised his brows at her while slowly perusing the RELIGION section, and Parker shook herself. She didn't need to explain anything to him of all people. The reminder helped her find some confidence, and she fluttered her hands at him irritably. "You know what—I don't need to explain myself to you. You've never even been to a bookstore before. What would you know about making sacrifices for something you believed in?"

Tom paused in his search. She saw his jaw clench, and eyes droop towards the creaky wooden floor beneath his shiny boots, and his comment from the other day drifted back to mind.

"You can be a real asshole sometimes, too, he had said.

And while guilt did block her throat up a bit—fucking asshole couldn't even let her defend herself without feeling bad about it—this time he didn't make any such reprimands. Instead, he just shrugged, before diving deeper into the store.

He cleared his throat. "I just expected it be nicer coming from you."

"Does something about me secretly scream rich girl to you?"

Tom harrumphed. "Trust me, no one is mistaking you for rich. Uptight, however..."

"Oh, ha, hilarious, Tom. God! You're such an asshole," she laughed, but it was a mean sound, paired with a mean insult. It failed to have the desired effect, however. In fact, Tom seemed to have shifted from hating the insult to owning it and looked far too amused for her liking. Frustrated, Parker decided the best plan of extermination was a straightforward shot. Through gritted teeth, she asked, "...what kind of sci-fi book do you want?"

The rhinestones on his shoulders sparkled as he shrugged. "I don't know. I need to understand what gets nerds so fucking excited about this shit. Not too nerdy, though. Alright? I'm not trying to be a Trekkie or whatever."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Parker wasn't sure what to pick first. So, she pinched the bridge of her nose to point out, "I have a feeling the so-called nerds making up your potential fanbase aren't going to appreciate being talked about like that."

"Who's gonna tell them—you?" he asked with a derisive glance over.

It was definitely true what they said about Tom Ryder; his effect on women was instantaneous. Parker just doubted the tabloids were talking about migraines.

"The sci-fi section is on the right," she sighed while pushing past him. It was one of the larger sections she had; it hadn't been a lie to say the books weren't selling all that well despite being her favorite. "What have you read before?"

The blank look he gave her was response enough.

"Ah, right, maybe... Altered Carbon?"

"Isn't that a tv show?"

"Well, yeah, but it was a book first."

He glanced at the book in her hand, but clearly wasn't impressed. Leaning on the shelf, he said, "why the hell would I read that if I could just watch it?"

"Sound logic," she tutted with a narrow eyed look. Parker returned the book with an eyeroll. "Fahrenheit 451?"

"Read it in high school. Not impressed."

She trailed the shelf while muttering, listing books in her head before subconsciously crossing them off the list of something he was likely to read and enjoy. "I guess that means you wouldn't like The Illustrated Man or The Martian Chronicles," she said to herself.

His arm brushed her aside to pluck out a familiar novel. "Nerds love this," he said while already flipping through the pages. She was surprised the size didn't scare him off immediately.

"Nu-uh. No way," she shook her head.

"What?"

"Dune is not a starter book."

He furrowed his brows crossly. "You don't think I'm smart enough to read this shit or something?"

You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answers to, her mother's voice echoed in the back of her head.

"Reading Dune as your first sci-fi book is like jumping straight into the deep end," she told him in a much more diplomatic approach. "If a sixteen year old wants to start drinking, you don't give him scotch, you give him a fruity cocktail."

Tom huffed; first through his nose and then through his mouth but stuffed the book back onto the shelf anyway. To which Parker then had to put it back on the correct shelf with a huff of her own.

"Don't be a baby and just trust me that Dune isn't a starter book. Okay?"

"Well—what is? You're supposed to be the expert here."

"If you weren't so picky it would be a lot easier..." she deadpanned but returned to her search anyway. Tom didn't seem to like waiting, and scowled at her as she shifted past him. She ignored him as best she could while squatting down to the lower shelves. "Arthur C. Clarke is one of the best sci-fi writers. He established a lot of rules that still exist in writing today. And films."

Parker pulled one of his novels, before moving towards Asimov, and then finally to Sagan. They were all slimmer novels than Dune, but no less complicated.

"Contact is my favorite," she said, shoving the books into Tom's arms. His denim was rough on her hands, and she tried not to think about how feverishly warm his skin had been the last time she had been this close to him. Swallowing, Parker remained on task. "But any of these should be good starter books for you to get into sci-fi with."

He glanced at the choices warily. "My audition is next week."

"Then I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to finish these if you're really serious about wanting to get that role," she chirped.

Together, they wound back towards the front counter. The TRASH boxes sat in the middle of the aisle, and she carefully toed them to the side before trailing past. While she was pretty sure he had been joking about suing her, a workplace hazard was the last thing she needed.

"How do you remember all of this?"

"Where stuff is? I spend almost all of my time arranging books. I'm uptight, remember?"

She felt more than saw his eyeroll. "These books, the authors. You, like, know everything about them."

Parker paused. It definitely wasn't a compliment, but it definitely felt like it could have been. Then again, this was Tom Ryder. When she glanced up from the counter, she found that he already has his nose back in his phone, and the conundrum of compliment versus not was thrown out the window. Parker shot him an unimpressed look to say, "please tell me that you're not on SparkNotes right now."

It was his turn to pause. "I'm just... reading the descriptions."

"Maybe that's why you can't understand why nerds like these books," she argued, hands planted firmly on her hips now. "Why would I go to watch one of your movies if I already looked the plot up on Wikipedia?"

He ignored her point entirely to smirk. "So, you do see my movies?"

"Goodbye, Tom."

"Relax. I'm not going to spoil them, alright? What's the fun in that when I could read them instead, and then leave you a bad review when the books end up being awful?"

"You mean have your assistants leave me a bad review."

He didn't seem impressed at the jab but didn't defend himself either. Most likely because they both knew she was right. Parker shot him a smug smile that he promptly rolled his eyes at. "Hilarious. Just tell me how much the books cost so I can leave before stepping on a rusty nail or something."

"Didn't you see the sign out front? Can't come in without a tetanus shot due to liability reasons."

There was a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but when she glanced up at him, Tom was wiping a hand down his face. "How much for the books, smartass?"

Parker was pretty sure she could upsell him. There was no way that he knew those three books, decades old with ripped pages, were only worth fifteen bucks together. And with all the Gucci name brand bullshit that he wore, she was pretty sure she could get away with telling him the price was a hundred dollars and he wouldn't even blink an eye.

But he was also a customer, a somewhat work acquaintance, and someone she really didn't want to hang around any longer than necessary. Not to mention her brother's pseudo boss, and someone that knew she was guilty of wrecking a far more expensive rug than she could ever pay to fix.

"Just consider them a loan," she said before she could second guess herself. When Tom raised his eyebrows so high they disappeared into his hairline, she waved a hand at him while half-heartedly returning to her job of book sorting. "If you're that put-off by it you can always pay me an agent's fee if you get the part."

He stared at her for a long moment, not necessarily computing, definitely hearing static, before Tom spared her an over-the-top eyeroll that surely had to have hurt to perform.

From his pocket he pulled out a couple of crumpled bills and slapped them onto the counter. He didn't even look at how much money it was. Just shook his head at her, glasses bobbing on his nose, before he was on his way out the door.

"Hey! Don't you want your change—?"

The door shut with a ting.

On the counter sat seventy-three dollars. Parker wasn't sure if she should be offended or complimented.

From outside there was the sound of an obnoxiously loud car engine revving, alongside the thrum of music, before it tore off down the street.

"What a fucking asshole," she grumbled with the shake of her head.

But it wasn't exactly an asshole thing to do, when she thought about it. And she would know; every exchange they had since being introduced had Tom acting like an asshole to her.

Or, well, not every exchange. Not when he had been, almost, nice to her at Gail's party, if only for a few moments when no one else was around.

"OH. MY. GOD!" a shrill voice shrieked across the store, bouncing off of bookshelves, as two boots went crashing towards the window. Parker was reminded in no gentle terms that they had not, in fact, been alone when Melissa smudged her face against the glass to peer out onto the street. "Holy shit! That was Tom Ryder! Tom Ryder! Are you kidding me right now? TOM. RYDER."

"Yeah, Jesus, I know who that was," she winced, pinching her ear when she thought the girl's high pitch yelp may have burst an eardrum. There was definitely a ringing as Melissa tromped around.

"You—he—I can't believe after all of this time you never once mentioned that you're friends with Tom freaking Ryder!" she squeaked.

"Well, hang on, we're not—"

"How long have you known him? How do you know him? Do you have his phone number? Ohmygod everyone is going to flip when I tell them that you know him. Tom Ryder!" Melissa shouted, phone already in hand as she started typing. "My friend, my dear friend and favorite bookstore owner, is best friends with Tom Ryder! Did you see his latest movie, Good Cop, Bad Dog? Ugh! He's so hot!"

"We're not friends," she said immediately, not even bothering to dispute the fact that Good Cop, Bad Dog was a puff piece in an attempt to market him for younger fans. "He's actually kind of an asshole."

The teenager shot Parker a scandalized look, mouth popped open into an O as her brows lifted to her hairline. "What? Are you kidding me right now? He just drove all the way out here to ask for your recommendation for a sci-fi book! His house is, like, fifty minutes from here with traffic. Don't call him that when you just became so cool."

Parker frowned. "How do you know where he lives?" she asked, before adding with much more intensity, "hang on a second, am I not cool?"

But Melissa was already moving on, the sound of facetime dialing on her phone as she darted back outside in hopes of catching another glimpse of the celebrity. Parker, in response, caught her head between her hands with a low groan.

And yet, she couldn't help but think about what Melissa said.

Tom Ryder was a total, grade-A asshole... right?

She cast a despondant glance towards the crumpled bills on the counter, then the box of books at her side, before fishing her phone out of her back pocket, and pressing the second number on speed dial.

"Hey," she said, "do you want to get, like, really drunk tonight?"

Colt didn't bother to ask why before he was checking what ingredients he had in his fridge and offering to invite Jody and Dan over for dinner. Sometimes, she really loved her brother.

[jrhughes]

The Lord Appears, Sarah Will Be a Mommy  

Sodom Will Be Destroyed. 

(Sunday October 8th  2023)  

Genesis 18:1-33 

Golden Text:     And He said,I will certainly return unto thee according to the time of life; and, lo, Sarah thy wife shall have a son.And Sarah heard it in the tent door, which was behind him. - Genesis 18:10 

Less than three months ago, God had told Abraham that Sarah would have a son next year at this time and it does not appear that Sarah is yet pregnant. So this visitation by the three heavenly visitors is, most likely, within three months or less. God had just changed his name from Abram to Abraham and had informed them that Sarah would give birth to Isaac. Isaac would be the beginning of the line of many nations. Kings will come out of them. God now believed He could trust Abraham to keep the covenant agreement between God and Abraham.  

Sign of the Covenant. All the males in the house of Abraham and all that were bought with money would be circumcised as a sign and token of ownership by God. When God told Abraham that he was to have another baby, Abraham responded 

And Abraham said unto God, O that Ishmael might live before Thee! 19 And God said, Sarah thy wife shall bear thee a son indeed; and thou shalt call his name Isaac: and I will establish My covenant with him for an everlasting covenant, and with his seed after him. Genesis 17:18-19

So why is God back so soon? To reassure Abraham and Sarah that the baby is coming. He will be named Isaac and to reveal to Abraham what God is about to do in Sodom. 

Message Text  -  Genesis  Chapter 18:1-33 

1  And the LORD appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day; 

God appears in the Person of Jesus The Christ along with two angels to Abram-Abraham in the plains of Mamre. Wikipedia reports:  

Mamre is the site where Abraham had first pitched the tents for his camp  and built an altar (Genesis 13:18). Now at this same place, Abram met three angelic beings, and told of Sarah's pregnancy (Genesis 18:1–15). Abraham was settling by 'the great trees of Mamre'. ...  

. . . 

Mamre being the name of one of the three Amorite chiefs who joined forces with those of Abraham in pursuit of Chedorlaomer to save Lot (Gen. 14:13,24). 

. . .  

Josephus (37–c. 100) records a tradition according to which the terebinth at Mamre was as old as the world itself (War 4.534). The site was soaked in legend. Jews, Christians and Pagans made sacrifices on the site, burning animals, and the tree was considered immune to the flames of the sacrifices. Constantine the Great (r.302–337) was still attempting, without success, to stop this tradition. 

These three heavenly visitors came in the heat of the day. The time of this appearance of the heavenly visitors was shortly after the incidents recorded in the preceding chapter. This, we see by the reassurance to Abraham concerning the birth of Isaac. Sarah was to have a baby one year later. This visit is before the birth and because it is not mentioned, we believe it was before Sarah was with child. Thus if that is true, the visit was within three months.  As her time of carrying the baby would be nine months, she would have to be impregnated by the third month.  

In the plains of Mamre. Literally, in the oaks of Mature (Genesis 13:18). 

 And he sat in the tent door. Literally, in the opening of the tent, a fold of which was fastened to a post nearby to admit any air that might be stirring. In the heat of the day, i.e. noontide, as the cool of the day, or the wind of the day (Genesis 3:8) means early evening. 

2  And he lift up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him: and when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground, 

... lo, three men stood by him: and when he saw them, he ran to meet them. And Abraham lift up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him. These three men were The LORD accompanied by two created angels. These are the same angels referred to in Genesis 19:1. Abraham saw them and understood that One of them was Jehovah. 

He ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground. The language in which Abraham immediately addresses one of the three men almost leads to the conclusion that Abraham already recognized Jehovah. 

When Abraham saw them, this ninety-nine (99) year older man, RAN to meet them.  We believe that Abraham recognized them as heavenly visitors and that One was God the Son. What did Abraham do?  But we learn that Abraham was in good shape and healthy as he ran to meet them.  

bowed himself toward the ground, Abraham recognized them and bowed as the lesser to the greater. Could one say that Abraham worshiped? And if Abraham bowed and worshiped, is that strong evidence Abraham knew One was God? 

3  And said, My Lord, if now I have found favour in Thy sight, pass not away, I pray Thee, from Thy servant:  4  Let a little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree: 5 And I will fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort ye your hearts; after that ye shall pass on: for therefore are ye come to your servant. And they said, So do, as thou hast said. 

My Lord, if now I have found favor in Thy sight, pass not away, Here we see Abraham has immediately recognized My Lord (Adonai, literally, Lord).  

a little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your feet Abraham takes care of immediate needs, clean feet that are covered with whatever they may have picked up and the water cools and soothes these guests. Should foot washing be continued to this day? 

12  So after He had washed their feet, and had taken His garments, and was set down again, He said unto them, Know ye what I have done to you?  13  Ye call Me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I Am.  14  If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another's feet.  15  For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. -John 13:12-15 

Yes, hospitality should still be practiced.  We should not be forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares, (Heb 13:2). We should always do, this to the least of His brethren, as unto God.  

Matthew 25:40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me. 

I will fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort ye your hearts. A morsel of bread? Yet, Abraham asks Sarah for her best baked cakes, then selects from the herd, and has one of his men kill one of his fatted calves and gives these three  a mini feast. Cheerful and obliging manners in showing kindness, are the signs of great Christian love. Abraham gave them a mini feast. 

...His Spirit (God the Holy Spirit) continues to stand at the door of every persons heart and knocks; when we are inclined to open, He enters into our hearts and lives; and by His gracious consolations He provides a rich feast, of which we partake with Him, (Rev 3:20)  - Commentary by Matthew Henry, 1710 

And said, My Lord - Adonai, literally, Lord, as in Genesis 15:2. The term may have indicated nothing more than-Abraham s recognition of the superior authority of the Being addressed. As in verse 3 Abraham calls Him Lord (Adoni). 

pass not away, I pray Thee, from Thy servant. Stay, my lord, stay. Pass not on till Thou hast eaten bread, and rested under Thy servant's tent. Remain until Thy servant kills a kid and prepares, a feast. 

They agreed and said, so do. 

6  And Abraham hastened into the tent unto Sarah, and said, Make ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it, and make cakes upon the hearth. 7  And Abraham ran unto the herd, and fetcht a calf tender and good, and gave it unto a young man; and he hasted to dress it. 8  And he took butter, and milk, and the calf which he had dressed, and set it before them; and he stood by them under the tree, and they did eat. 

Sarah was the one Abraham turned to first. He asked her for her hearth cakes. And I am certain she did not stop there. She most likely made a feast fit for a king, because her KING (King Jesus) was there. 

Now Abraham, himself picked out the fatted calf tender and good. Abraham gave that calf, he had chosen to one of his young men, most likely one who was very good at preparing a calf and meat for the cooking;  

And he hasted to dress it.  This was not the day of fast foods. It must have been a few hours, before the main meal was ready.  I am sure that there was much to eat while they waited. 

He stood by them under the tree, and they did eat Abraham, the host stood by to meet the needs of these three. Sounds like Abraham was standing by watching and ready to serve them 

Sarah 

9  And they said unto him, Where is Sarah thy wife? And he said, Behold, in the tent.  10  And He said, I will certainly return unto thee according to the time of life; and, lo, Sarah thy wife shall have a son. And Sarah heard it in the tent door, which was behind him. 

Where is Sarah, thy wife? Surely God knew where Sarah was. So He asked the question as He was about to turn and focus on Sarah. 

I will certainly return unto thee according to the time of life; and, lo, Sarah thy wife shall have a son.  Remember when you thought you had to help God keep His promise? You went into Hagar. That was totally unnecessary. Watch and see Sarah thy wife shall have a son. 

11  Now Abraham and Sarah were old and well stricken in age; and it ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women. 

You two looked at your experience as opposed to the Word of God. You were wrong. You looked at the experience of the world. You thought you had to help God. God gave you one woman to be your wife. That is with whom you will father Isaac and continue the line to Messiah. 

12  Therefore Sarah laughed within herself, saying, After I am waxed old shall I have pleasure, my lord being old also? 

Therefore Sarah laughed within herself. Sarah, who is said to be a woman of faith, looked at what she had seen. After she is no longer having cycles, she knows that she, Sarah, could never be the one to give Abraham a son. She lacked faith to believe. Upon which should we depend, our experience of the clear Word of the living Go. So when she heard about it she must have allowed the ideas of the world to be her measuring stick. This appeared  to be even too hard for even the LORD (she thought). 

13  And the LORD said unto Abraham, Wherefore did Sarah laugh, saying, Shall I of a surety bear a child, which am old?  14 Is any thing too hard for the LORD? At the time appointed I will return unto thee, according to the time of life, and Sarah shall have a son. 

 Wherefore did Sarah laugh.  First we note that Sarah did not laugh out loud. Sarah. Sarah laughed within herself.  God had heard her laugh from within. Then He said 

Is any thing too hard for the LORD?  The clear answer is: NO! The God who creates all that herein is: Earth and all that therein is, and breathes the breath of life into each person who is born, can do anything. Nothing is impossible with God. 

Can a virgin conceive and have a child?   World says No.  God says Yes. 

Can a man dead for four days be given life?     World No.   God says Yes. 

Can a person on Earth walk on water?     World: No   God: Yes 

Can anyone calm the sea by His command?  World: No      God says Yes. 

15  Then Sarah denied, saying, I laughed not; for she was afraid. And He said, Nay; but thou didst laugh. 

God does not allow Sarah to attempt to lie to the One True, Creator God, Who knows your thoughts. He is everywhere and all knowing. Trying to lie to God will not work for Sarah and it will not work for you. Confess your sins and repent. 

16  And the men rose up from thence, and looked toward Sodom: and Abraham went with them to bring them on the way. 

And the men rose up from thence, They were in Mamre and now looked - and walked towards Sodom. Literally, towards the plain of Sodom, as if intending to go there. 

Abraham went with them to bring them on the way.  And Abraham went with them -maybe across the mountains on the east of Hebron, Literally, to send them away, or accord them a friendly convoy over a portion of their journey. 

17 And the LORD said, Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do; 18 Seeing that Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him?   

God said shall I hide from Abraham that which I do? God had to make a decision. Should He tell Abraham. God knew his nephew Lot was there.  God knew how Abraham would react.  

Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation. God knew the future for Abraham and his line. Should He tell Abraham? But God was steadfast in His plan. Both His plan for your salvation and His plan on how to deal with this great and grievous sin of Sodom. 

God was going to take care of the grievous sin problem in Sodom. 

19  For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the LORD, to do justice and judgment; that the LORD may bring upon Abraham that which He hath spoken of him. 

He will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the LORD. God says Abraham will command his children. They will keep the way of the LORD (Pronounced: Je Hov Vaw) These children of Abraham shall keep the way of the Lord. 

20  And the LORD said, Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous; 

Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous; 

What was the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah? According to Genesis 19, the sin involved homosexuality. The very name of that ancient city has given us the term sodomy, in the sense of “copulation between two men, whether consensual or forced.” Clearly, homosexuality was part of why God destroyed the two cities. The men of Sodom and Gomorrah wanted to perform homosexual acts on what they thought were two men. 

God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. Ezekiel 16:49–50 gives some more insight: “Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before Me.” So, the sins of Sodom included pride, apathy, complacency, idleness, and unconcern for the underprivileged. BUT the main sin was the sodomy. 

Ezekiel 16:50 adds that a sin of Sodom was that they did “detestable things.” The Hebrew word translated “detestable” refers to something that is morally disgusting. It is the same word used in, Leviticus 20:13 where homosexuality is an “abomination.” Jude 1:7 also weighs in: “Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding towns gave themselves up to sexual immorality and perversion.” So, again, while homosexuality was not the only sin of Sodom and Gomorrah, it does appear to be the primary reason for the destruction of those cities. 

21 I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, which is come unto Me; and if not, I will know. 

It is believed by many commentators that God just wants us to be aware of the fact that God has to have overwhelming evidence, even to the point of leaving heaven and personally coming to Earth to visit personally so that He proves to man that God knows before HE unleashes His justice. 

22  And the men turned their faces from thence, and went toward Sodom: but Abraham stood yet before the LORD. 

There came a point in the traveling that the two angels continued on their way and separated from Abraham. But the LORD stayed with Abraham, as God knew that Abraham would want to better understand the Plan and Purpose of God. And here Abraham becomes an intercessor for the wicked people in Sodom. Abraham asks God to help Abraham understand. 

Now obviously God knew the motive of Abraham, so He listened, but God did not have to explain His actions to Abraham. God does not have to explain His actions to you or to me.  Be careful when you question God. God knows best. 

23  And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt Thou also destroy the righteous with the wicked? 24 Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city: wilt Thou also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein?  25 That be far from Thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked: and that the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from Thee: Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right? 

First Abraham tries to reason with God. Abraham reminds God of the fact that every man should die for his own sin and that if this large town has fifty righteous persons in it, it would not be in His Character to destroy the righteous persons with the wicked. Of course God knows there are not even ten. As you will remember there are only four people taken out before the destruction of the large town of Sodom, but God responds. 

26 And the LORD said, If I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I will spare all the place for their sakes. 

Well intercession has worked God will spare the entire town of Sodom if there are but fifty righteous persons.  The Bible does not tell us the population, but I have seen estimates from 600-1200 and as high as 8000 in the plain which was destroyed. 

Abraham does not give up. Abraham negotiates the number down first by fives, then Abraham negotiates down by tens. Each time God assures Abraham that He, God will not destroy the city if we find as few as ten righteous. 

If 600 was correct - then when Abraham asked God to save the city (Gen 18:24) for 50 righteous people - that would have been about 8% of the city. Then God was willing to save the city for just 10, (Gen 18:32)- which would have been 1.6% of the population.  

27  And Abraham answered and said, Behold now, I have  taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but  dust and ashes:28 Peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty righteous: wilt Thou destroy all the city for lack of five? And He said, If I find there forty and five, I will not destroy it. 29 And He spake unto Him yet again, and said, Peradventure there shall be forty found there. And He said, I will not do it for forty's sake. 30 And he said unto Him, Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak: Peradventure there shall thirty be found there. And He said, I will not do it, if I find thirty there.  31  And he said, Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord: Peradventure there shall be twenty found there. And He said,I will not destroy it for twenty's sake.  32  And he said, Oh let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak yet but this once: Peradventure ten shall be found there. And He said,  I will not destroy it for ten's sake. 

Some believe that Abraham thought he was safe in asking for ten righteous, but we will learn there were only four. 

The Lord will give Abraham an opportunity to intercede with Him, and shows him the reason of His conduct. Consider, as a very bright part of Abraham's character and example, that he not only prayed with his family, but he was very careful to teach and rule them well. Those who expect family blessings must make conscience of family duty. Abraham ... taught them to be serious and devout in the worship of God, and to be honest in their dealings with all men. Of how few may such a character be given in our days! How little care is taken by masters of families to ground those under them in the principles of religion! Do we watch from Sabbath to Sabbath whether they go forward or backward? 

Here is the first solemn prayer upon record in the Bible; and it is a prayer for the sparing of Sodom. Abraham prayed earnestly that Sodom might be spared, if but a few righteous persons should be found in it. Come and learn from Abraham what compassion we should feel for sinners, and how earnestly we should pray for them. We see here that the effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. Abraham, indeed, failed in his request for the whole place, but Lot was miraculously delivered. Be encouraged then to expect, by earnest prayer, the blessing of God upon your families, your friends, your neighborhood. To this end you must not only pray, but you must live like Abraham. He knew the Judge of all the earth would do right. He does not plead that the wicked may be spared for their own sake, or because it would be severe to destroy them, but for the sake of the righteous who might be found among them. And righteousness only can be made a plea before God. How then did Christ make intercession for transgressors? Not by blaming the Divine law, nor by alleging aught in extenuation or excuse of human guilt; but by pleading HIS OWN obedience unto death.  -  Commentary by Matthew Henry, 1710. 

33 And the LORD went His way, as soon as He had left communing with Abraham: and Abraham returned unto his place. 

As soon as GOD had left communing with Abraham (because God recognized the prayer and intercession of Abraham were ended): and Abraham returned unto his place back to Mamre. 

PRAYER: Heavenly Father, You allowed Jesus to come to Earth before His birth in Bethlehem, when direct contact was necessary with Your people. Thank You. And Thank You Jesus for all that You have done, especially at the cross and again as the Great High Priest, You still intercede for us.  WE (I) need it. Please forgive me of all of my sin and unrighteousness that has occurred since the last time we (I) prayed and asked You to forgive me. I am so thankful that I have an Advocate with the Father. Please cleanse me, forgive me and make me fit for Your use. Send a person my way who needs to hear about You and please guide me as I am a Witness for YOU, Lord. Help my times of unbelief and increase my faith and understanding so I may be used by You. Thank You for keeping Watch over me, keeping me out of accidents and injuries. Bring healing, I pray. I cast every devil of hell out of my life and ask You, God the Holy Ghost to come fill every part of every cell in my body. I pray in the Name of Jesus Christ, our (my) Lord.  AMEN. 

May God bless you in all that you do for Him, Brother J.R. Soul winner, Bible teacher, Defender of the Faith

[snackhobi]

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v. 

then he turns up at your door. 

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif​ for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within. 

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over. 

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight. 

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed.  It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on. 

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code. 

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time. 

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water. 

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine. 

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.��  The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious. 

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new. 

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed. 

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?” 

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone. 

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one. 

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they? 

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.” 

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper. 

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go. 

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked. 

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs. 

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least). 

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for. 

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good. 

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone. 

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend. 

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way. 

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God. 

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence. 

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things. 

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.” 

Ah. 

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.” 

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new. 

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased. 

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs. 

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples. 

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice. 

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off. 

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs. 

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?” 

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight. 

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality. 

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own. 

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​

[deeisace]

Yesterday's awkwardest customer wasn't like. Record awkward, but she did piss me off anyway

Came in for a backpack, I showed her the exact one she wanted, she goes "that price is wrong"

Wh. It's not, I'm fuckin looking at it. It's 30% off the RRP, like literally everything else in here, like all the giant fuck-off signs say - I tell her this, in retail-speak, and she goes "well I was here in August and it was cheaper"

Y e s, it would have been, it was a different sale then, fuckin obviously, and I explain that too, and say, it might be cheaper online cs they're on a different sale to us, I'll check - but it's more expensive online, so I'm all chirpy, oh look you have a better deal here! And she's still being a grumpy fuck about it so in the end I give her 15% off just to shut her up and eventually she buys the fuckin thing

And asks, where are the flasks - I tell her exactly where they are, go ahead at check them out, y'know

And about 5 minutes later, she comes back, still angry for no reason, all "there was no one upstairs, I don't know what I'm looking at, I have to catch a train, this is U n b e l i e v a b l e"

Why would there be anyone upstairs, we're busy, you can see that, there's a fuckin queue you just bypassed to complain at me while I bag someone's t-shirts, the fuck is wrong with you, I told you exactly where they are and a flask is a flask jesus christ everything's clearly marked, I do not have time to hold your hand, piss off then

Ugh

As I say, not record awkward tho

I've had people ask pointless repeated questions about socks for like 15 mins, and "but why is it that price" about it felt like every single shoe we have, and plenty of people who remember they have a discount after they've paid and then get angry about me having to do an exchange to give them their £2.37 or whatever back

The manager served a guy yesterday who bought socks, and he'd taken them off the wrong peg I guess, but they were 70p more expensive than he thought they were, and this is after the manager's told him the price twice and he's paid, having seen the price on the card machine, he's then come back, he left the store and came back, and demanded the 70p difference

I know I'm hardly the benchmark for all human behaviour or anything, but christ alive

Well, he'll get his 70p back in 3-5 business days

I had someone do the same, a month or so ago, for 25p. Insane.

[tuanhood]

hypnotic | part one

paring: vampire!im jaebeom x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut (part two), vampire au

warnings: language, cringey vampire cliches i’m sure

word count: 9,800+

summary: jaebeom has been waiting 200 years to find his mate - the one who can break his trance and isn’t affected by his hypnotic abilities. You don’t seem to be that person, but he just can’t seem to get you out of his mind… why? 

a/n: hello guys! so i originally had this planned to post tomorrow (the 30th) but it was so long i decided to split it up and post one part today and the other part on the 31st! This first part is mostly Jaebeom and not a lot of Y/N but SO BE IT. This is also my first time writing in the genre of vampire/fantasy loL so please forgive me because it’ll probably be cringe and not make sense. if that’s the case lol drop me a message!! also vampire jaebeom was requested FOREVER ago. so here it is practically 3 decades later. and i attempted to make a banner. if someone can make me a better one it’s v much WELCOME.

part two

Knock Knock Knock 

He wished he could just pretend like he was asleep. He wished he could use that as an excuse to not answer the door, but based on the very strong feeling he was getting from who was behind it – that wouldn’t work. 

“I know you’re in there! Just answer the damn door Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes, leave it to Bambam to be at his front door before the day even had a chance to truly begin. Before letting him in, he went through all the possible things or excuses he could use to get out of whatever his younger friend had in mind.

“Is your vintage YSL here or is it still at the dry cleaners?” Bambam asked, pushing past Jaebeom as soon as he has the door partway open.

Gruffly, Jaebeom turned back into his apartment to Bambam already halfway to his bedroom – no doubt to look through his closet, “What are you doing here Bam?” 

“What does it look like? I’m here for the vintage YSL asshole!” 

He’s learned by now that it’s better to let him do his thing – whatever that may mean. So instead of following Bambam, he plopped down onto the same couch he’s had for nearly 15 years. “You know when I first bought that shirt it wasn’t considered vintage!”

Jaebeom waited for a response, but instead, he was met with silence. After a few moments – many of them thinking about how maybe it was time to replace the couch – he felt his “vintage” YSL button-down hit him in the face. 

He groaned; the impact was surely going to create wrinkles in the material he tried to keep in pristine condition. It was ironic since he was often heard making fun of how much Bambam cared about clothes, but Jaebeom liked to keep his things nice. “Bam I just got it back from getting cleaned a couple of days ago.”

“Put it on.” 

The tone of his friend’s voice seemed rather impatient. If he had closed his eyes, Jaebeom would have thought he was talking to Jinyoung or even himself. 

“Why do I need to put it on? It’s 8 in the morning; where are we going?”

“Um excuse me? Did you forget what day it was? Now come on, we’re meeting Jinyoung at that new café down the street in fifteen.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to picture the café on the mental map he keeps in his mind, “the one that used to be a video store in the 90s?”

Bambam made his way into the living room, picking up a few glasses that rested on the coffee table Jaebeom’s feet were on top of, and marched over to the small kitchen. Jaebeom has lived in this apartment more years than he’d like to admit, especially because enough time had passed that the neighbors he had were clearly aging and he just stayed 26. The thought of moving somewhere new often enters his mind, but with this place, he just can’t bring it in himself to go quite yet. It’s almost as though something is tying him to this city, this place – like he’s waiting for something.

“Yes, and a speakeasy in the 20s both of which are not important right now because we live in the 21st century Jaebeom. Now come on, Jinyoung’s waiting – that asshole is always early.” 

He heard Bambam mumble something along the lines of known him 100 years, would it kill him to just be on time for once, as he furiously dropped the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“Do I have to go?” 

Bambam paused his motions of putting Jaebeom’s dirty dishes into the sink to stare the older vampire down, “Jaebeom you only turn 200 once.” 

He scoffed in response, “Jesus don’t remind me.”

“We have to make a whole day of it! So please just put the shirt on, because I want you looking presentable,” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly wiggling his eyebrows, “you never know what could happen.” The final word is drawn out, almost sing-song like and it drives Jaebeom up the wall because he knows exactly what Bambam is referencing.

For Jaebeom and those like Jaebeom, they didn’t consider the day they were born as their birthday, but instead as the day they turned. There was no point in celebrating their birth anymore as they were no longer alive. However, at this point after 200 birthdays, – alive and dead combined - Jaebeom was beginning to believe that there was no point to those either. He always knew being immortal was a curse but day by day that idea was only solidifying itself in his mind.  

Jaebeom let out a gruff breath which only made Bambam look up from the fork he was scrubbing, “Bam I don’t know what you think is going to happen today… but it certainly isn’t that.” 

The “that” he was referencing was one of the main factors that as of late had made him feel like living forever was indeed a waste. It was the thing that was supposed to make him feel “complete.” According to old texts and traditional vampire folklore, he was now walking around half full, but once he met his mate, he would become whole. At first, he didn’t believe the tale. He had gotten by so far without a mate that the idea of him not being complete made him laugh. But watching both Bambam and Jinyoung find their mates – Bambam 70 years ago and Jinyoung 16 years ago – made him finally acknowledge and reflect on the piece of himself he was missing. 

And fuck he was lonely. 

Bambam chuckled at him as if being in on his own personal joke. His friend was strange like that sometimes, “just put the shirt on Jaebeom.” 

By the time he’s had the shirt on and Bambam has somehow convinced him to let him wear his Rolex he got as a gift from his friend Jackson in 1920, Jaebeom feels mentally prepared to leave the house and embark on this dreadful day. The reminder that he has now been around for 200 years and still is not whole.

“Finally,” Jinyoung sighed when Jaebeom and Bambam finally reached the café down the street, “I’ve been waiting 20 minutes.” 

A disgruntled Bambam checks his watch, “well if you don’t want to wait every single time, don’t be so fucking early,” he promptly turned to Jaebeom to share his grief regarding their friend, “you think he would learn after all this time.” 

“Let’s just go order,” Jaebeom shrugged, not caring to be in another disagreement between his longer than life friends.

“Be honest you’re early on purpose just so it gives you something to complain about and a reason to make us feel bad!” 

Jinyoung ignored Bambam’s theory, replying to the oldest, “no need. I already ordered for the three of us. It’s a special day, the birthday boy doesn’t need to pay,” he glanced at Bambam, “you on the other hand…” 

The two new arrivals, flop down into the sofa chairs on either side of Jinyoung, along of them situated to make a half-circle in front of a low coffee table. The three of them had somehow stuck into this… pattern. Years of friendship that contained years of Bambam/Jinyoung squabbles that Jaebeom would often have to mediate. Patterns were nice, but sometimes they would get old – especially after so long. 

As the two of them argue over whether or not Bambam should pay Jinyoung back for a simple iced Americano because Bam swears he got the drinks the last two times, Jaebeom looks over to the counter where the baristas work on – no doubt – the plethora of orders they have. The factor of the café being new has certainly been the cause of the popularity and amount of people in the shop. He can’t help but feel bad for the individuals working on the drinks – three years ago he had been one of them for roughly 18 months and knew that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared to be. 

In retrospect, Jaebeom didn’t have to work. He had so much time to learn and understand what it meant to be financially responsible. Not only that, but he’s literally had hundreds of years to save. Plus, his early investments in companies ended up landing him some pretty substantial and valuable shares. Jaebeom was sitting on quite the pretty penny. 

“Wow your portfolio is remarkable… I’ve never seen one like it,” his latest financial advisor had said to him in complete awe, “I mean an early investor in Amazon? Apple? Mastercard?” 

Jaebeom had laughed nervously, “What can I say? My grandpa had good intuition, I guess.” 

Money aside, he had wanted something to do with his time – hence his barista job. It was fun, but like most things, Jaebeom just grew tired of it and as he watched the girl working the espresso machine let out an exhausted breath, he realized that he wasn’t missing it. 

Jaebeom has become good at studying people. It was something he still wasn’t sure of whether it was a vampire thing or just something he had picked up over time. Watching the girl at the machine, her hair is in a low bun, a few strands falling in front of her face. It’s clear with the way the hair tie is situated, that the hairstyle was once a bit neater, tighter, and sat at the middle or even top of her head. However, the now fallen placement and slight disarray signal how busy she’s been working and how fried she must be feeling. 

He looks to the string bracelet on her wrist, visible from far away enough for Jaebeom to conclude that she must have someone in her life deemed important to wear one of those “friendship” bracelets. He never saw the point, but humans were strange creatures, despite him once being one. 

Jaebeom’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the delicately drawn tattoo on her wrist near the bracelet. It’s of lavender and it immediately reminds him of his mother who had loved exploring the lavender field that had been near his home when he was a child. Despite all the time that has passed since he lost his mother, the pain that aches inside of Jaebeom when he thinks of her isn’t any less. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the call at the coffee bar, “Order for Jinyoung.” 

The call comes from the overworked girl he had been studying and Jaebeom wants more than anything to stand up and retrieve their orders. He finds a weird want to hear what her laugh sounds like. Maybe he could say something or strike up a conversation that would-

“What are you doing?” It takes Jaebeom a moment to notice that he has partially stood up from his chair as if he’s about to go somewhere. Cluelessly, he replied, “going to get the drinks.”

The youngest shook his head, “No way! Birthday boys don’t get their drinks, they don’t lift a finger.” 

He knew Bambam was one to take birthdays seriously, but this was beginning to feel like it was going the extra mile too many. 

“I’ll get it.” 

Jaebeom watched Bambam get up to retrieve the drinks. He expects him to just grab the drinks and return to the table, but instead, Bambam says something to the girl. Arching his neck to the side, he tries to make a clear path to eavesdrop on what’s being said, hearing being one of the benefits of turning. Unfortunately, the café is too loud for him to focus on the conversation and he’s defeated by the fact that he’ll have to stay in the dark.

The girl laughs loudly at something Bambam said and Jaebeom can’t help but feel mixed about it. On one hand, he got his wish – hearing her laugh – but on the other hand, he wasn’t the cause of it. For some reason it makes him bring his clench and unclench his fists which rest on the arms of the sofa chair. Jinyoung takes notice.

Jaebeom quickly looks down at his lap when he senses that Bambam is returning to where they’re sat, not wanting to give away that he had been staring. First, he places Jinyoung’s and his drink on the table, soon turning back around to go back and fetch the last drink – Jaebeom’s. 

When he comes back, Jaebeom looks up to see a large grin spread across the youngest’s face. He has that look again – the one as if he knows a joke Jaebeom doesn’t. 

The latter nodded his head in thanks for getting the drinks as he inspects his green tea on the table. Just as he’s about to pick up the mug, he’s stopped in his tracks by an announcement coming from the coffee bar. 

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the interruption, but I’ve been told that we have a birthday here today,” you said. Giving announcements wasn’t your strong suit, but you figured now that you were an actual owner of something, you were going to get over your shyness. But you didn’t think it was going to be that often that a tall, skinny and pale boy with a Rolex on his wrist would be asking you to get your coffee shop to sing happy birthday for his friend. Even when you were a barista working for someone else no one had made such a request. This was a café after all, not an Applebee’s.

Jaebeom wished more than anything that he could sink into his seat and just disappear. If only that cliché that vampires turned into bats were true, then he could just fly away at a moment’s notice. Leave it to Bambam to torture him like this. It wasn’t intentional of course, but it certainly felt like it to Jaebeom. 

It was especially tragic to him because the girl he had been studying was the one leading the entire café in singing “Happy Birthday.” He did his best to avoid looking at her, feeling like his entire body was heating up in embarrassment even though he couldn't heat up. 

You on the other hand felt a little insulted by the birthday boy’s lack of eye contact. You hadn’t even managed to get a good look at him before you started singing and now it was not possible with the way that he was looking down at the ground, his long hair falling in front of his face, concealing itself to you. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that he felt awkward about a bunch of strangers he had never met singing him happy birthday, you had felt the same whenever your friends tried to ambush you on your birthday… but you at least looked up and acknowledged the presence of the people singing. A tight smile from this guy would even be happily accepted. 

When the song is over and the claps that follow finally subside, he looks up to see the café back at its previous state of normalcy, not a single person looking at him anymore. Jaebeom lets out a sigh of relief. 

“You could at least act like you liked it,” Bambam huffed in annoyance. He wished Jaebeom could appreciate the idea of birthdays like he did. 

“I really didn’t need to be the center of attention today Bam.” 

“But it’s your bir-” Bambam begins to explain, but Jaebeom abruptly cuts him off, not wanting to hear his reasoning for today’s antics, yet again. The day hadn’t even started.

“My birthday, I know. Thanks for reminding me.” 

Jinyoung clears his throat and plays with the spoon that came with his Flat White. Just as Jaebeom is the mediator for Bambam and Jinyoung, sometimes Jinyoung has to be the mediator for Jaebeom and Bambam. Essentially the commonality in the disagreements of their trio friendship is Bambam and currently, Jinyoung feels as though he should route the conversation elsewhere.

“What else is in the cards for tonight then boys?” 

It’s then based on the look on Jaebeom’s face, that Jinyoung thinks that maybe talking about the plans for tonight – on Jaebeom’s birthday – isn’t re-routing the conversation. Especially since it’s Bambam’s whose eyes light up and is the one to reply to him.

“Obviously we’re going out tonight,” Bambam paused and turned to Jaebeom, wagging his finger in the latter’s face, “there’s no way you’re getting out of this. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had rejected Bambam’s invitations to go out consistently for the last 6 months and on his birthday of all days, Bam was going to force him out of the house just as he had done this morning to come to the café.

He looks back to the front counter, his eyes searching for the barista who has now suddenly disappeared. A frown begins to make itself known on his face, feeling a bit disappointed by the fact that she may have left already or gone elsewhere, but soon she’s popping up from behind the counter, no doubt getting something from the cabinets below. Jaebeom feels relief. 

“What did you say to her?” he asked suddenly looking back at Bambam.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What did I say to who?” 

“The barista behind the counter.” 

His friend nodded his head slowly, suddenly realizing what Jaebeom means. A smirk appears on his face, “nothing much… Just how it was your birthday and it would be really good if we could all embarrass you by singing about it. She’s not a barista, by the way, she owns the place. Kinda backward thinking there Jae. It’s the 21st century, women can own things now, they can vote.” 

“I know that,” Jaebeom hissed. 

Bambam puts up his hands in defeat, “I’m just making sure.” 

“Don’t you know her?” Jinyoung asked, “isn’t that why we came here?” 

Jaebeom’s interests are perked. It’s not often that the three of them meet new people. It’s not like there’s a huge point to it. The last new person the three of them met was Mark – also a vampire – a bartender at their favorite club in the city, but that was in 2007. 

He waits for Bambam’s explanation as to how he knows this girl and why they came here specifically beside it just being near Jaebeom’s apartment. 

Waving his hand nonchalantly, the Thai boy gives his answer, “I don’t really know her. Minji does. Met her in some kind of class, I think. SoulCycle? Pilates? Zumba? I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her and her activities these days.” 

Minji is Bambam’s mate. He had turned her only a month after they met. 

Jaebeom’s not sure what he would do if he met his mate. He doesn’t know if he would want to subject them to turning and living the same kind of life as him, but he also doesn’t know if he could continue life alone after meeting his mate. If he ever meets them.

“Why the curiosity?” Jinyoung asked, for once finding it hard to remain stone-faced. Even his usual chill, non-revealing demeanor seems to fade away when it appears that his older friend might be attracted to someone. 

Jaebeom simply shrugged, “it’s nothing…” 

“What do you think? Could she be the one?” Bambam asked teasingly, pointing to the girl behind the counter. 

Jinyoung rolled his eyes almost immediately at the younger boy, “if you’re going to keep bothering him about it, don’t make it so obvious idiot.” 

Jaebeom had been alive – or more like undead – for 200 years and more than half of that time he had to listen to this same conversation from his friends over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and 180 years later, he was tired of their pestering. 

He leaned forward slowly and grabbed his green tea off the table, making sure to visibly flinch at the heat of the drink, Bambam, and Jinyoung chuckling at his reaction. Out of the three of them, Jaebeom certainly had the most practice when it came to “putting on a show” for the humans and “acting” the most human. Taking a sip, he looked back at the girl behind the counter. 

The youngest vampire had spent many of their outings and conversations hypothesizing who Jaebeom’s mate could be. Despite being the oldest of the three, Jaebeom was the only one left who still hadn’t found his mate and he was beginning to feel hopeless. Typically, Bambam pointed out any human girl as a candidate – all of them of course ended up not being his mate. Therefore, Jaebeom didn’t pay attention to his picks anymore, but he had to admit… He did get a strange feeling from the girl behind the counter. 

Jaebeom looked to you, hoping to catch your gaze as you quickly made the coffee orders for the few people waiting to the side of the cash register. Just when he was about to give up and focus his attention back on his friends, you tore your concentration away from the drink in your hand and looked up at him from across the cafe. 

Jaebeom focused his gaze deep onto you with his eyes – testing, checking, and trialing your focus. You didn’t look away, instead, you trained your eyes deeply into his and stared at him until finally, it was Jaebeom who broke the contact. 

He shook his head at his friends, disappointed by your inability to break the trance and ultimately confused at the feeling he still got from you despite that. 

Jaebeom took another sip of the tea, “it’s not her.” 

“Did you have to debate that Uber driver on the Twilight franchise?” Jinyoung groaned at Bambam as soon as they’re out of the car. 

The entire twenty-minute ride, he had got into a heated discussion with their driver on how Twilight was not “true” or realistic to most actual vampire folklore. It had been an excruciating thing to listen to. 

“Got to stand up for our kind dude.” 

“Okay, but what happens when she starts asking how you know all these things or why you’re so interested in vampire stuff?” Jinyoung tended to always be right. This wasn’t an exception.

Brushing off his pants, Bambam gives him a nonchalant wave, “chill out man. Everyone loves vampire stuff.” 

“Maybe in 2008,” Jaebeom said just barely loud enough for his friends to hear them. The two of them laughed, Bambam shoving him playfully on the shoulder, “Birthday boy getting funny on us.” 

“I was always funny,” Jaebeom deadpanned. 

“Funny and looking good tonight. Let’s get you laid, shall we?” 

After a day that was jampacked full of various activities planned by his youngest friend, the last thing Jaebeom wanted to do was spend extra energy on trying to get some girl to come home with him tonight. Besides, he wasn’t that guy anymore. 

Jinyoung scoffed, “he doesn’t need to get laid tonight.”

“Yes, he does! Jaebeom how long has it been?” 

This time it’s Jinyoung that shoves Bambam’s shoulder – except it’s not all that playful. 

“Fine don’t answer that, but I’m just saying there will be quite a few girls here that you can have your pick of, despite your plain outfit.” 

Jaebeom looked at the clothes he had changed into when Bambam spared him a sliver of time to go back home to digress and feed his cats. The latter had wanted him to borrow clothes of his, but instead, Jaebeom decided on pulling pieces from his closet that felt more like him, less like Bambam. A plain pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black shirt that he had bought at a shop from his trip to London last year, and his mother’s necklace that often wasn’t missing from its spot around his neck.

Bambam’s earlier critique was that he was dressed too basic and that no girls would bat an eye at him. Girls don’t like plain guys, he had said. The comment makes Jaebeom wonder about you and whether you’d fall under the category of not liking “plain” guys. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. It was probably the eighth time he had made himself do it today. Jaebeom had found his mind often drifting to you throughout the day for some unexplainable reason. During their walk in the park, he wondered if you would take strolls during your breaks from the café or when Bambam forced him to go paint pottery for an hour and a half he thought about what you would paint. It frustrated him because he hadn’t even spoken to you – not a word and yet you were clearly on his mind for one reason or another. It wasn’t even like you were his mate. He had tried to see if you were unaffected by his trance, his hypnotic capabilities, but you had just stared at him completely fixated just as everyone else was. 

Jaebeom was not going to think about you any longer. He was already planning on avoiding your café. 

“We’re on the list,” Bambam tells the bouncer when they arrive at the entrance of the club. He scans the list and motions his head towards the direction of the door to signal to the three of them to go on ahead. There’s a bit of a whine coming from the people waiting in line which admittedly so makes Jaebeom feel a little guilty, but Bambam ensures him it’s fine, “why have a friend who works at a club if we can’t use him for the perks?” 

“Why does he keep bartending again?” As soon as the question is out of Jaebeom’s mouth he realizes it was a stupid thing to ask since the answer is apparent. 

Bambam laughed at him, giving his long – irreplaceable he’d like to remind everyone – leather coat to the person at the front of the club. Jaebeom swears he hears him tell the coat check guy the “proper” way to put it on a hanger. 

“Obviously for the girls Jaebeom.” 

Mark’s mate – Hana had passed on a long time ago. Jaebeom had never got the chance to meet her, only hears about her in passing from some stories that Mark has told the three of them. He hadn’t turned her. Jaebeom’s never asked why. 

“Girls… of course.” 

He can’t help but think about how Mark must feel inside. Although Jaebeom doesn’t know him as well as he knows Bambam and Jinyoung, whenever he’s with the older boy he’s always got a smile on his face. Often quiet, but he’s always got certain energy bouncing off of him that would indeed make him popular with women. However, if what they say about mates is true, would that mean that a piece of Mark was now missing? Did he feel like he was less of a person? Jaebeom felt like that sometimes and he hadn’t even met his mate yet. Mark had his, but now he didn’t. 

“Drinks?” Jinyoung asked the two of them and Jaebeom is partly surprised. Out of the three of them, Bambam was the one who was the most comfortable in a club or even bar setting. He figures that Jinyoung must be using his birthday as an excuse to cut loose and become someone else for the night.

Bambam instantly nodded his head at Jinyoung’s suggestion and Jaebeom finds himself trailing behind the two of them as they make their way over to Mark at the bar who is throwing his head back at something the girl across the bar is saying. Judging on Jaebeom’s intuition – it’s a bit fake and overplayed, but you got to do what you got to do.

“My man!” Bambam yelled over the music, leaning against the counter in a way to make sure he doesn’t get the elbows of his long sleeve turtleneck wet. Mark in response, turned to them and smiled, then routing his attention back to the girl, giving her an apologetic smile. Her half-smile says everything Jaebeom could need to know – this girl would not be going home with Mark after his shift tonight. 

“What can I get you guys tonight,” Mark turned to Jaebeom and the latter can barely make out his sharp canines in the dark club, “birthday boy you want anything special?” 

Before Jaebeom can reply that he wants to be at home, Bambam answers for him.

“Could we maybe get something that’s off the menu?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Mark who gave him a shit-eating grin, knowing immediately what he was talking about. 

“Off the menu” meant Mark’s secret stash of O negative underneath the counter. While alcohol had the same effect on them that it had on the average humans, adding a bit of blood just made a little bit better. Okay… it made it a lot better. 

“Three negronis coming right up,” Mark winked to give a little signal that these would most likely not be as well composed or put together as a negroni, but due to them being in public, he couldn’t necessarily announce a shit ton of alcohol mixed with human blood was going to be served up to them. 

“How has your birthday been Jae?” Mark asked as he was in the middle of placing three glasses onto the countertop in between them.

It was difficult to explain since to Jaebeom it had just been another day except for a little bit more excruciating. The celebration of another year “older” filled him with thoughts of how much time has passed, whether he’s done anything truly important and why he still hasn’t found the person who is meant to complete him… but like he said only a little more excruciating than any other day. 

Jaebeom shrugged in response, “Bam planned a lot and for the most part, it was…” he paused for a moment, wondering if he should say how he felt – numb, lost, and wishing the day would come to an end as if tomorrow won’t bring the same thoughts or problems. But as he looked at his friends who had tried so hard today to make him happy and celebrate, he decided to guard them against the ultimate truth, “for the most part it was fun – really good. I mean besides the singing at the café of course.” He throws in the last part to at least have some kind of believability to his story. 

He notices Mark’s eyebrows lift out of curiosity as his concentration focuses on measuring out each part of the drinks, “An entire café sang you happy birthday? Damn, I don’t think I could ever get through that, so I can only imagine how you feel.” 

“That was Bam’s idea,” Jinyoung muttered. 

Once again, Bambam does his nonchalant waving of the hand, “it wasn’t that bad. I mean okay, maybe it was… But Jaebeom was obsessed with the girl who led it.” 

Jaebeom suddenly feels like he wants to put duct tape over his friend’s mouth. 

“I was not obsessed with her! I don’t even know her!” Jaebeom for some reason felt the need to defend himself, which was probably the worst option. Him getting defensive was usually a tell-tale sign for his friends being right on whatever they were confronting him with. 

Bambam scoffed, bringing gliding his drink across the bar to be directly in front of him once Mark has poured it neatly into the short glass, “I noticed you staring at her before I went to get the drinks. That’s why I asked her to do it in the first place.” 

“So, she doesn’t know Minji?” Jinyoung questioned. 

The youngest takes his first sip and immediately lets out a hissing noise, signaling to Mark that it’s both strong and good. “No, she does, but Jaebeom’s weird staring only made it that much better.” 

Mark pushed the other two glasses towards Jinyoung and Jaebeom, “Was she your…” he drifted off, almost as though he was finding it physically difficult to get the word out. Jaebeom can’t help but feel the want to reach his hand out towards Mark and place it comfortingly on his shoulder, but his group of friends don’t do that. Instead, he saves him the trouble by answering back right away, not forcing him to say it.

“No, she wasn’t.” 

The bartender nodded slowly, suddenly avoiding his gaze from the three familiar boys across the bar from him, “That’s uh… too bad that she wasn’t able to break the trance. Sorry, Jaebeom.” 

He knows that Mark is just trying to be nice, especially when they’re on a subject that he clearly can’t and doesn’t want to talk about, but the attempt to be comforting makes Jaebeom nauseous. 

“Well maybe he’ll find her here tonight,” Jinyoung quipped, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s back. Sometimes the latter swore that his friends treated him he had just found out he had a terminal illness. 

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jaebeom commented gruffly. 

There’s a sound from the other side of the bar from a customer who seems fed up with the conversation being had between the four of them – distracting Mark from serving anyone else. He gives a signal to them to notify them that he’ll be there in a second. “Well… come to me if you guys need more drinks.  It’s on me tonight.” 

“Thanks, man,” Jaebeom tells him honestly because he might need a couple more drinks before he gets to the state of wanting to be in this room.

Mark said a final word of “see you guys later” and heads to the other end of the bar to help customers who have been waiting. Grabbing their drinks, Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Bambam turn around to depart the bar, to find somewhere to sit for a bit before the drinks truly begin to hit them.  

With his drink in hand, Jaebeom took a sip and reveled in the perfect balance of alcohol to burn his throat and blood to soothe it. The drink was probably the most relaxing part of his day thus far and as he looked out at the crowd, he could already tell that maybe the mixture was going to his head due to his sudden thinking that this place wasn’t all that bad.

Despite not being a club guy, if he were to go out, Jaebeom would always choose this club that Mark works out. To put it simply – it was vampire friendly. With Mark behind the counter and his “secret” supply free-flowing, it became a notoriously known place for vampires in town. If he had to guess, the attendance on an average night was probably evenly split 50/50, humans and vampires.

The humans weren’t aware of the vampires of course – for the most part.

Jaebeom cleared his throat once they’ve found a booth to sit in, “so… Bam what do you know about that girl?” 

Both Jinyoung and Bambam exchange glances before looking back at the birthday boy. The latter tried his best to conceal the smile on his face, “not much… just that she owns the café, knows Minji, and is very single.” 

For some reason, Jaebeom’s stomach does a little flip, but he wishes it wouldn’t. “S-So?” Through his stutter, he tries to remain as confident as possible, but his friends see right through his façade.

Jinyoung leaned forward until his elbows rest on the top of his thighs, “Jaebeom you can be honest with us… Why the sudden fascination with this girl? Are you sure she didn’t break the trance? Just with the way that you’re acting…” Jinyoung drifted off, not bothering to finish his final sentence, but once again looking at Bambam. It makes Jaebeom lean forward in his seat as well. 

“With the way, I’m acting? I’m completely normal. I’m fine. She didn’t break the trance and now I’m just curious about her as curious as anyone would be about someone they meet.” 

There’s the silence between the three of them until Bambam speaks up, “You didn’t meet her though.” 

It dawns on Jaebeom that he didn’t even speak to you and he wonders why does it feel like he did. Why did it feel like he knew you but didn’t at the same time? Why haven’t his mind and body been cooperating with him since this morning at the café? 

Just with the way that you’re acting…

The way he was acting? What did that mean? Was the way he was acting mean something specific? 

He feels like he blinks and thirty minutes go by. And in that past thirty minutes, Jaebeom had somehow managed to drink 6 of Mark’s “negronis.” He felt like his head was beginning to get dizzy. It wasn’t often that Jaebeom found himself drunk on the verge of drunkenness due to alcohol not affecting him as much as humans. To even remotely get to that state, he had to drink a lot and it had to be strong. 

“You feeling it Jaebeom?” Through the darkness and the haze of the alcohol, Jaebeom could barely make out the hint of the smile playing on Jinyoung’s face. He had switched to a glass of wine at some point while Jaebeom was binge drinking which had to be the most Jinyoung thing ever. Who drinks a glass of wine in a dark, sweaty club? 

He’s afraid to answer him verbally which would give his friend an obvious sign of how he was feeling. So instead he just shrugged – as usual. 

“Dude let’s get out there!” The youngest shouted, motioning his hands to the middle of the club, “dance… maybe find you a girl?” 

Jaebeom watched the people pressing up against each other on the dancefloor, moving their bodies, and drinking like their lives depended on it. He wondered if he wanted to be a part of that. Everyone out there was so full of life and vigor… he just wasn’t. He also didn’t know if he was that drunk, but bless Bambam because he didn’t need alcohol to be out there. 

For what feels like the millionth time, his mind drifted to you. Was this your kind of place? Would you come here? If you did would you come alone? With friends? Someone else? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would like this place. You seemed more like him – the observant, calm, inquisitive type who would much rather be at home with a book than at a party. 

Then for a moment, he can picture it. It’s almost like he’s in a trance – an image of you curled up on a couch – his couch – under a large white cable knit blanket fills his mind. Rather than reading, your painting with watercolors – the kind that seems to be in every elementary school classroom – and he hears a voice out of view. His voice.

“Painting really?”  

Jaebeom sees you glance up from your painting to look at him, smiling.

“Looks like I’m gonna have a lot of time on my hands so… might as well get good at something.” 

Jaebeom hears himself laugh, “Okay but watercolors?” 

He feels like he’s going to pass out when he finally hears it – your laugh. 

“Let the artist work Im Jaebeom! She needs to get good enough to live off auction house money once her paintings get sold! Shh!” Despite your words, you smiled and suddenly moved the tools away from you onto the coffee table. You lifted half the blanket off of you and patted the space of the couch beside you, “you know I can’t say no when you give me that face. Come here.”

And just like that, the vision is gone. Jaebeom feels confused because it didn’t feel like a dream or fantasy, but it felt real… it felt like a memory. 

“Hello, Earth to Jaebeom?” 

Right… dancing. Maybe dancing would help him forget whatever game his mind was playing on him.

“Yeah let’s fucking go.” 

Another instance occurs where Jaebeom blinks and everything moves so fast. Suddenly he’s no longer sat at the table with Bambam and Jinyoung, but instead in the middle of that mess on the dancefloor with everyone else. He almost feels like one of them. He almost feels human again. But as soon as that feeling washes over him, it quickly dissipates. 

He knows it must be the drinks doing all the work, because otherwise, he would have never found himself in the middle of all these people, thinking that dancing is a good idea. Dancing had never done anything remotely good for him before, so why now? To help forget? Was it going to help him do that? 

“I swear it’s like he’s not even here.” 

Jaebeom tuned back into the moment, and it’s when he realizes that Jinyoung and Bambam have been trying to get his attention this entire time.

“Sorry I was just- the alcohol you know…” He says it so quietly that he knows his friends won’t be able to hear him over the music and the millions of conversations happening around them. But he thinks that maybe it’s better that way and that it truly doesn’t matter what he says.

Jinyoung comes closer to Jaebeom, until his mouth is right next to his ear, “we were just asking if there’s anyone that you’re interested in.” 

They’re still on this idea? Jaebeom asked himself. 

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t think that finding some random girl to fuck was going to help with the emptiness he’s been feeling lately, but for the first time since getting up and onto the dance floor he takes in the people around him. As depressing as it was to observe, most people were here with someone else. 

It’s then his gaze falls onto a couple that stands far on the left side of the floor, behind where Jinyoung is standing. The two of them have their fronts pressed up against each other, dancing so closely with arms exploring one another’s bodies. The female has her head resting on the male’s shoulder as if she’s too exhausted to keep going, but can’t dare to part with him. It’s like they’re part of each other and any distance would cause them to lose all sense of themselves.

The girl lifts her head off the male’s shoulder and gives him this look that makes Jaebeom’s heart – if it was still beating – ache. She says something to him and he nodded happily in response. Even through the dim lights and large crowd, Jaebeom could see the sharp teeth inside her mouth.

She placed her head back against his shoulder, this time, however, the male had his head angled back, stretching out his neck. The girl moves in closer until her mouth just ghosts over the skin, breathing on it until the boy shuts his eyes awaiting the sting and pleasure that will come next.

Biting down against his flesh, breaking skin, the girl drinks from her partner. Even though he’s at a distance from them, Jaebeom can tell by the look on the man’s face that he’s enjoying being fed on and that it certainly isn’t his first time. 

He feels like his eyes are frozen on the couple. It’s been so long since he fed off someone instead of the stuff that he gets from his connection at the hospital. Jaebeom tries not to think about the way his fingertips tingle and his throat dries up at the thought of drinking from a warm body. The alcohol has only dehydrated him and made him feel even more thirsty – he’s afraid that going back to the bar and asking Mark for a glass of O negative exclusively isn’t going to make that go away. 

After a moment or two, the girl removes her mouth from the boy’s neck and drags her tongue over the spot where she had drawn blood from, ultimately covering the wound and signaling that she was done drinking. 

He thinks of how risky it is to do that at a place like this. Although half of the people around them also take part in the activity of drinking blooding and granted most of them aren’t paying attention to those around them – there are still unsuspecting humans everywhere. If one wrong person were to see then that could be it for this club being a haven for the vampire community in the city and that would probably be… it for vampires in this city in general. 

But who was he kidding? He was being a hypocrite because he’s for sure done the same thing. 

You’ve once again entered his mind. However, this time it isn’t an image, picture, or vision that occupies his thoughts, but instead just the idea of how you would react to who he is, what he really is. Throughout his time that he’s been undead he’s only done the “reveal” to a handful of people and even then, it took him a long time to get there. Well except for one person who ultimately was a mistake and his friends hadn’t hesitated to let him know.

With you, Jaebeom felt that you wouldn’t be the kind of person to judge him instantly based on what he was. You would be shocked of course, maybe even scared, but you wouldn’t let that cloud your judgment. You wouldn’t let yourself reject something just because it was unfamiliar. 

What the fuck was he on about? 

It must be the alcohol doing this to him. He would have to thank Mark for making them strong this time around, but also make a mental note to never let this happen again. Jaebeom was already a deeper thinker, but this was getting out of hand.

There’s a sudden grasp of Jaebeom’s elbow and he feels himself jump at the sudden touch. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized it wasn’t one of his friends considering Bambam and Jinyoung were both dancing over to his right side. 

When he turned around to greet the person who had grabbed him, he was disappointed, surprised, and annoyed all in one. It was the last person he had expected to see her, except not really because it made perfect sense. 

“Jaebeom… hi.” Ara smiled shyly at him, tucking a string of hair behind her ear and slightly looking down at the ground. He wants to groan because he knows she’s doing this because he had once mentioned that he thought it was hot when she looked innocent. He shouldn’t have ever said that.

He’s not sure what to say, because what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been trying to avoid for the past year and a half? Jaebeom had said everything he had wanted to say to her. 

At one point in his life, he had been stupid. He had been stupid and he had abused the power that had been bestowed upon him since the day he had been turned. Perhaps one would assume that he’d been foolish with his ability just at the start – 100, maybe even 150 years ago. Instead, Jaebeom had gone through a rough patch about a year or two ago. 

The overwhelming pressure of finding his mate had started to get to him again. All he needed was someone, anyone to break the hypnotic trance and that was it. A task that seemed so simple, yet never came. So, Jaebeom had used hypnotism to his advantage, getting as many girls as he could in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He wasn’t proud of it and it was something he would constantly regret as long as he was ali- around. 

One of those girls… had been Ara. 

Jaebeom felt relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer back at her greeting, “How are you? I-It’s your birthday, right? How old are you turning again? 27?” She winked immediately after her question and he wants to roll his eyes.

She was the mistake by the way. The mistake that knew about who he was. 

He doesn’t even remember how it happened, how his secret slipped, or what the circumstances of her finding out was. Part of him thinks he was just horny, thirsty, and weak, but she found out and she… loved it. 

Weirdly enough, Ara loved the idea of him being a vampire and his “lifestyle” which at first Jaebeom didn’t think too much about. He thought okay she’s taking this extremely well… better than anyone else I’ve ever told, but whatever, but then it became strange. 

She was what those in the vampire community call a “vampire fetishizer.”

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze wandering over to Jinyoung and Bambam, hoping they would catch sight of him stuck with Ara and come rescue him. Jaebeom wasn’t that lucky though, not even on his birthday, “Yeah… 27.” 

Jaebeom can’t help but look at her neck. It’s fully on display and it was clear that Ara had come here to find someone to feed on her. He had been the one to show Ara this place before he had been clued into her little… vampire obsession. 

“Well did the birthday boy get everything he wants today?” She smiled and gave Jaebeom those eyes. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and he realizes he has to keep himself in check because he’s not that weak tonight… right? 

His eyes flash to her neck again and Jaebeom feels his throat get even drier. He was so thirsty and he knows Ara would be so willing. 

No Jaebeom… No. 

“I-I uh yeah… you know got- yeah today’s been good,” he stuttered awkwardly, bringing his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Judging on the look on Ara’s face, she’s taken the action the wrong way. 

“You look thirsty Jaebeom… do you want a drink?” 

He knows what she means and Jaebeom swallows hard in an attempt to distract himself, to remind himself that he’s not that thirsty. He doesn’t need it that bad.

“I-I think I am.” 

The words come out faster than his brain can process to stop them and the part of Jaebeom that’s coherent, sharp, and aware wants to punch the weak and drunk Jaebeom in the face. 

Without a word, Ara turned from Jaebeom and began walking to one of the exits at the side of the club. He feels like he’s the one in a trance, mindlessly following her through the people, not even hearing Jinyoung and Bambam calling out to him. The only thing that Jaebeom makes note of as he follows her is Mark’s face behind the bar, giving him a tight smile. It almost stops Jaebeom. Almost. 

When they finally get outside through the exit door, they find themselves in a small alley between the club and a dry cleaner. 

Jaebeom doesn’t even get a moment to think before Ara is pushing him against the wall of the dry cleaner, her hands roaming up and down his body, her lips going to his own. They’re pressed up against each other so closely that he recalls the couple he had watched earlier. He feels sick comparing this moment now to the two of them. 

“Fuck I missed you so much,” Ara sighed seductively into this ear, making Jaebeom’s stomach churn further at her clear longing for him. Well not him, but the vampire part of him.

“Please, I need it,” she mewled. At her words, he almost puts a stop to this whole thing and has to question whether this is the right thing to do. Jaebeom wonders if this is old Jaebeom behavior – the one that just used women and threw them away later like toys, but then he remembers that this is Ara. She’s using him as well. 

It’s almost as though that old, cocky, snide Jaebeom appears out of nowhere as he says his next words and brings himself closer to her neck, “do you really need it?” 

“Yes, Jaebeom I do, please.” Ara already sounds so desperate and he’s barely done anything. He can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

“Then I guess I better give it to you then.” 

He’s about to do it. He’s about to bite down and finally relieve his thirst, his craving, but then he looks to the side of the alley – towards the street. He feels like he’s seeing things again like he’s in the middle of a hallucination or mirage. That thought is pushed away when he locks eyes with you. 

“Don’t mind me,” you placed your hands up in front of yourself, to show him you’re not eavesdropping. Your action frustrated you because it would have been much better to say nothing, but you felt yourself panic. The prolonged eye contact with him while he’s just seconds away from pressing down – bitting down? – on the girl’s next for some reason pushed you into defensive mode. Not to mention his eyes… his eyes were – red? 

The girl hadn’t noticed you; you aren’t even sure if she heard you, but she certainly noticed Jaebeom’s stare fixated on you. When she faces you, she wears an unpleasant sneer, clearly annoyed by your interruption of whatever this was. 

“Can you go?” She said, the agitation in her voice more than apparent. 

Rather than immediately leave the scene, you continued to stare at Jaebeom. It’s difficult to say why you decided to walk this specific way home despite it being so late and dark out, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be pulled in this direction. You weren’t someone who believed in signs or fate, but it felt so wrong to go any other way tonight. That was another thing, you felt this kink in your neck that practically forced you or taunted you into looking down the alley between this dry cleaners and club. It was yet another thing about today that felt unexplainable to you as you certainly weren’t expecting the birthday boy from the café today to be in a compromising position with some girl. 

After a moment of more uncomfortable staring – something else that had happened at the café today with him – Jaebeom breaks your gaze and looks down at his feet. The eye roll and acrid look on the girl’s face don’t go unnoticed by you. 

You shouldn’t be here. 

“S-Sorry. I’ll just get going then,” you concluded, unsure why you felt an uncomfortable sickness spread throughout the entirety of your body. 

You barely knew this guy – all you really knew was that today was his birthday and that he was friends with Minji’s boyfriend. Basically nothing. Yet now and even earlier back at the café you had felt this weird sensation within yourself. Not even when you looked at him, but just being in the same presence. It had been so hard to focus on making coffee today when he was seated across the room. Every part of your body just wanted to get closer, gravitate towards him. It was fucking weird… and scary. 

The girl nodded as if to signal “yeah about time,” at the announcement of your departure. Jaebeom on the other hand, still had his eyes glued to the ground as if looking at you once again will cause him some kind of pain.

Just as you’re about to continue your trip back home, you stop yourself and look back at the couple in the alley. 

“Happy birthday by the way…” you paused wondering if it would be weird to say his name considering he doesn’t even know yours, but you shove the thought out of your mind, “Jaebeom…”    

Hearing you say his name causes that tingling feeling in his fingertips to come back and his entire mind is sent into a frenzy. He feels too awkward, too shy to look at you again, but a sudden thought washed over him. What if earlier was a mistake? What if you are his mate? With the way he was currently feeling just at you saying his name, the visions he had in the club and the nonstop place you know had in his mind, it was difficult to believe that you weren’t his mate. 

Bambam and Jinyoung had found it difficult to explain to him what it felt like to find your mate, but surely what he felt right now wasn’t normal behavior or feelings. Unless he was a psychopath. 

Tightly shutting his eyes and drawing together all his strength, Jaebeom aims to try once again to see if you can break the hypnotic trance, unaffected by his abilities. However, as soon as he’s finally ready, head turned up to face you – you’re gone. You didn’t wait for him to respond to the happy birthday message. Instead, you simply left not wanting to be a burden or troublesome to whatever it was those two were doing in that alley. 

“Thank fucking god, let’s get back to it,” Ara concluded with a final roll of her eyes, gripping Jaebeom’s shoulders to get him close to her once again. He stares at her neck, but this time he doesn’t feel anything. He no longer feels thirsty and his appetite is gone. 

Jaebeom shrugs her off slightly. The encounter with you has caused him to wake up and realize what a bad idea it would be to do this right now. He hopes that Ara won’t put up a fight – he doesn’t want to have to hypnotize her if he doesn’t need to. 

At his actions, Ara takes a step away in disbelief, as if she actually can’t believe that Jaebeom is changing his mind and no longer wants her, “are you serious?” 

He doesn’t say anything but instead avoids eye contact with her just as he had done for you. 

Snorting, she glared at him, “Fine. Whatever. I don’t fucking care. I can find someone else to feed off of me. Yours never felt that good anyway. Asshole.”

Just like that, she’s out of his life once again and Jaebeom can’t help but feel thankful. He should have never been weak enough to be dragged out by here anyway. He had just been consumed by thoughts of you, alcohol, and the couple on the dancefloor. Then again, not coming out here would have robbed him of the opportunity of seeing you again and finding out that you actually knew his name. 

That’s when it dawned on him. 

Fuck… how much had you seen? What did you see? 

Jaebeom realized that he might have some explaining to do

[roguerogerss]

Sorry is a Sorry Word

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Plot: Steve fucked up - bad. He doesn’t really know how, or if, he should say sorry, until Dustin gives him a pep talk.

W/C: 3.1k

A/N: Just now realising how long this is oops, sorry. My first Stranger Things fic! Finally. (watch this flop so hard lmao) Remember to like and reblog if you enjoy! It really helps me out. As always, requests are open and any and all feedback is appreciated <3

————

"Dustin, Please, just leave me alone." She lay back on her bed, tears streaming down her face and hair amiss from where she'd run her fingers through it. "I'm fine, I just...give me some time."

"But, we tell eachother everything." Her little brother sounded so small and defeated that it almost broke her heart in two. She could hear him leaning his back against the door, the back of his head thumping dully against the wood a second later. "I feel like we're drifting apart. You don't talk to me anymore."

"Dustin-"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry." Dustin cleared the remnants of his upset from his throat, "We can talk later. I get that you need time."

And with that, he'd left. She could hear his muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor of the hallway, walking away from her bedroom and back to his own. She knew that she wanted to talk to him and vent about all of the happenings of the day, but she couldn't bring herself to let her walls down in front of anyone about her current situation just yet.

It was Steve. And it was bad.

They'd been together for a year and ten months. He'd been there for her through thick and thin. Whenever their mom went MIA, something that happened more often than not, during the days and weeks and months that Y/N was left to take care of her thirteen year old brother on her own with no notice whatsoever, Steve was there. And he'd take Dustin out to the cinema, give him free ice cream, play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends - even though Steve had no idea how to play Dungeons and Dragons. He'd sleep over, make her feel like she wasn't alone. It filled her with pride to see him taking Dustin under his wing, more like a dad than even an older brother.

When they lost Hopper, who'd become more of a parental figure than she and Dustin's mom was to her, he was standing by her side at the funeral, hand grasping her own smaller one with force and squeezing it every so often, just to remind her that he was there. He was there after the funeral, too, when they went to the cabin and went through Hopper's things. He was there when she found the birthday present that Hopper had bought for her, a necklace with, 'you're pretty cool, kid', engraved on it. Hopper's way of saying that he loved her. It came with a letter, one that she cried so hard while reading that she couldn't see the words on the page.

The point was, that Steve had been there through everything. And now that they'd had a huge argument over - of all things - Nancy Wheeler, she was unsure of whether or not she'd have Steve to lean on anymore.

It wasn't so much a stupid argument as it was a stupid mistake on Steve's end. He even admitted to himself that what he'd done was more than a dick move. Tina was having a party, a big one, for old time's sake. Y/N wasn't invited, having been socially considered as 'uncool' while in High School, while Steve was invited. He said that it wasn't a big deal, it didn't matter, he wouldn't go.

Except that it was a big deal, it did matter, and, well, he did go.

He'd gotten really drunk, so drunk, in fact, that he had no recollection of the night at all and managed to stumble to Y/N's front door at five in the morning.

He'd told her that he went to the party, that he was sorry. She'd been mad, but she was so tired that she said she'd deal with it in the morning and told Steve to sleep it off on the sofa. Before going to sleep, however, Steve had told Y/N that he 'thought he might've kissed Nancy' that night.

They'd argued about it the next day. She'd dropped him off at home, neither of them speaking at all in the car, and they'd screamed at eachother in Steve's living room. Little did either of them know, Steve hadn't actually kissed Nancy, he was just so drunk that he made himself believe that he had. And then, Y/N told Steve that they were done, and he'd said 'fine', and she'd left and cried in her car for an hour.

And now, she was here. Crying on her bed, little brother probably thinking that one of her friends had died or something.

She hated herself for blowing up and flying off the handle and literally breaking up with Steve. Steve, on the other hand, hated himself for even going to the party, hated himself for - possibly - kissing Nancy, hated himself for going to Y/N's front door and waking her up so early in the morning.

In the grand scheme of things, Steve Harrington had been an asshole. And he was all too aware of it.

It had been around half an hour since she got home when Dustin knocked on the door again. This time, she'd managed to calm down enough to allow him to come inside. She looked horrifying, hair messed up, tear stained face, cuddling a pillow and wearing one of Steve's shirts, but Dustin was her brother, he had no right to judge her.

The door swung open slowly, and Dustin was there, grinning and holding two pints of ice cream, spoons, and some movies. "Thought we could put a movie on and eat. And you can tell me about your problems and I promise I'll listen."

"Is the ice cream cookie dough?" Y/N asked, sniffling, and a watery smile crossed her face. Dustin laughed, happy to see his sister perking up at least a little bit, even if it was over ice cream, and turned the carton to reveal to her that it was, in fact, cookie dough.

"Only the best." He tossed one of the cartons and a spoon at her, and turned on the TV set that sat across from her bed. "Besides, I know it's the only one you'll eat when you're sad."

"You know me entirely too well." She hugged her knees to her chest and dug into her ice cream, relishing in the taste of it for a second, "Oh my God, I haven't had this in so long. And the Scoops cookie dough is so bad."

"Right? I know Steve thinks it's the best, but he is so wrong." Little did Dustin know, one mention of his name would make Y/N's meltdown begin all over again. Soon enough, she was crying hot tears into her ice cream, and she allowed Dustin to lay his head on her shoulder while she explained everything.

"Okay, I have to go somewhere." Dustin knew what he had to do, and Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he got swiftly up from her bed. "I'll be like, maybe half an hour. But you can eat my ice cream if it starts to melt."

"Dustin! Don't leave me!"

"Watch the movie!"

And then he was gone, and she was by herself, with only some ice cream and E.T. to keep her company.

Meanwhile, Dustin had found Steve at work. He was insanely hungover - although, the headache and sickness had gone away thanks to Robin and her Tylenol, but the tiredness still remained - and reminded Dustin faintly of a particular zombie in Day of the Dead when he walked into Family Video to find him leaning on the counter. The grim look on his face wasn't so much because of the hangover, though, it was more to do with the fact that he and his girlfriend of nearly two years had broken up half an hour ago, and he'd been forced to go to work.

"If you're here to talk to Steve, I wouldn't. He nearly punched me when I asked him if he wanted Tylenol. And I'm a girl." Robin stopped Dustin at the front door, a serious look on her face, but he shrugged her off.

"It's fine. He won't do anything. Besides, I know what this whole thing's about. That's why I'm here." He tried to walk off again, but Robin grabbed his upper arm, tugging him back and making him elaborate.

"Is it Y/N? I think there was a fight between them or something. He’s never looked this rough.” Robin looked concerned, and she was. She’d never seen Steve so upset before. “He was crying when he came in.” She added.

Dustin shrugged, “Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him. He’ll be fine tomorrow.” He decided not to give Robin any more information on the situation in case Y/N or Steve would've gotten mad at him for it.

"Henderson, hey." Steve said quietly when he noticed that Dustin had entered the store. He looked like he'd been crying, and Robin was definitely right when she said he’d never looked rougher. "If you're here to hang out-"

"I'm not here to hang out, Steve. We have to talk." Dustin crossed his arms sternly over his chest, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in the direction of the store room. Steve grumbled and complied, unlocking the door and ushering Dustin inside.

"You have to apologise."

"Apologise? Apologise for - what exactly are we talking about?" Steve rubbed a hand exhaustedly over his face, leaning against a sealed box of movies that he was supposed to have put away by now.

"You know what for, Steve. Y/N. You hurt her. Like, really badly. I don't think I've ever seen her so upset." Steve already wanted Dustin to stop, but he continued, really wanting him to get the message of just how hurt his sister was. "She cried in her room for half an hour before she even let me talk to her, and now she's at home by herself, probably crying some more because you went to a stupid party. I mean, seriously man, couldn't you just have stayed home? What was so important about it?"

Steve threw his head back and hid his face with his hands, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He knew that he'd been a dick, he knew that he'd hurt her, but, Jesus, knowing the details made his heart flip in his chest and his stomach hurt. He hated seeing Y/N upset at the best of times, nevermind when it was his fault.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should've just left it. Jeez, Dustin, I'm such an asshole."

"Yes. An asshole, you are. And what was that other shit? About you kissing Nancy?"

"I didn't kiss Nancy, okay? My drunk mind just kinda...made me believe that I did. I called her today just to confirm." Steve swallowed, suddenly having the nausea of his hangover coming back to him.

"Does Y/N know that?" Dustin had his arms crossed, back against the wall, looking unimpressed as Steve shook his head. "Seriously man? Don't you think that the first thing you should've done after finding out that you didn't actually cheat on your girlfriend, was tell your girlfriend that you didn't actually cheat on her?"

"My head's all over the place, Henderson. Cut me some slack, okay?"

"You have to come say sorry, you know that, right?"

"I will. I will, I promise. I finish in an hour, why don't you go home, I'll buy some flowers, take a shower and get changed, and I'll come chap on your door like none of this even happened." Steve had suddenly perked up, gesturing with his arms and almost getting excited to initiate his plan.

"Yeah. Sure. But it better be good, Harrington. You better make her happy."

Steve didn't even have time to respond before Dustin was running off, getting on his bike, and cycling back home to his sister. He promised himself internally that he'd do all it took to make her happy.

Y/N had finished her ice cream and Dustin's had started to melt by the time he got home. She hadn't cried any more, had been too focussed on the movie, and Dustin was relieved to see her laughing at something on the screen when he entered her bedroom.

"Hey." She smiled. "Your ice cream's melting, you'd better eat it."

Dustin smiled and bellyflopped onto her bed, sending her into a fit of laughter. They both laughed so hard, in fact, that they barely heard the doorbell ring, and Dustin almost got up to go and get it.

He stopped himself though, not wanting Steve to call him an idiot or something along those lines. "You should go. I have to eat my ice cream before it melts." He said sheepishly, sitting back down from where he'd jumped up. Y/N rolled her eyes and threw the pillow that she was holding at Dustin's face.

"Alright, make your sad sister get the door because you have to eat ice cream." She stood up even as she spoke, knowing that Dustin wasn't going to budge. "Nice one, asshole."

Y/N had left her bedroom before Dustin could retaliate, bounding down the stairs and realising that, if anyone saw her the way that she looked now, they'd probably never respect her again. The doorbell went again, and she sighed quietly at the lack of patience from whoever was on the other side.

She - stupidly - didn't even bother to look out of the window that stood next to the door to check who it was before opening it, and nearly closed it again when she realised who was standing there.

"Hey, woah, don't close the door yet!" It was Steve, his eyes widened from the possibility that he'd come all the way to her house so that she could slam the door in his face, holding white lilies and a box of chocolates, which was - in Y/N's opinion - the cheesiest apology ever. "Just...listen? For like, a minute."

She slowly let her hand slide off of the door knob, watching as Steve relaxed a significant amount even from seeing her do that. "A minute." She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing her cheek. "You have a minute."

"Okay, uh, yeah, okay." Steve began his rambling. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, I know I shouldn't have gotten so drunk that I managed to convince myself that I kissed Nancy. Did I already say that I didn't actually kiss Nancy? I called her, and she said we didn't even speak. Bottom line is, I'm an asshole. I know that, and I hate myself for hurting you. Dustin told me how upset you were and I...I couldn't even comprehend the fact that I did that."

He paused, looking down at his feet and waiting for Y/N to say something. Something that didn't come, she simply stood, looking at and biting her fingernails, trying to figure out whether or not she should give in and forgive him or not, so he stopped waiting and spoke some more.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I love you so much. And I know that I fucked up, and I don't expect you to forgive me-"

"Steve." Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, expecting that she'd look upset or annoyed, but she was smiling and shaking her head. "Come here."

"Seriously?" He already wished he hadn't said what he did before he'd even finished speaking. Seriously? What kind of thing to say was that? "I mean, you know-"

She was already hugging him before he could finish speaking. She knew that he'd ramble on for hours if he could, but she also knew that she already forgave him and didn't need to listen to his rambling. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost you, really, I did." He sighed into her hair, realising that he was probably ruining the bouquet of flowers with the way that he was crushing them against her back.

"Well, you were an asshole. You had every right to think you'd lost me." Steve had always loved her subtle sassiness, it was a habit that she often fell into unknowingly, but it made him chuckle.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I was an asshole."

She let go of him, finally, and stood back. He was wearing his light blue jeans, a black t-shirt and belt, with a blue jacket. It was an outfit that she'd seen him in before, quite a few times, but he never failed to look good in it anyway. His hair was slightly amiss, as though he'd gotten ready as quickly as he could - which was true, but she didn't know that for sure - but it still had his Steve 'the hair' Harrington charm.

"So, can I come in, or are you just gonna stand there and mock me?" He grinned and she stood to the side, allowing him to join her in the hallway. He went straight for the kitchen, taking out a vase and filling it up with water, then placing the flowers in it and leaving it on the kitchen counter.

"I didn't say you could-" She was trying to joke with him, but he didn't seem to care much, as he cut her off by dipping his head towards hers and kissing her passionately. He hated to admit it, probably something to do with the small part of his King Steve persona that he still carried around with him, but he'd missed her, and it had only been a few hours.

"Woah, easy tiger." Y/N laughed, pulling away when Steve's hands started to travel downwards. "We haven't even properly spoken yet."

"Yeah. Sorry." Steve said sheepishly. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled down at the floor. "Do you wanna talk?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

"So, really, it's okay for me to do this," He closed the gap between them again, beaming at her while he searched her face for any sign of disapproval and admired the little flecks of contrasting colours that danced in her eyes. And then he kissed her again, lips soft against her own, gentle - something that wasn't widely believed, Steve Harrington was actually one of the most gentle people that Y/N had ever met.

"Well, yeah." She grinned, breathless. "But I'm sort of in the middle of watching a movie, wanna join?"

And so they spent the rest of the day, wrapped in the blankets on Y/N's bed and Y/N wrapped in Steve's arms, watching movies that Dustin fished out from the cabinet under the TV that Y/N didn't even know that they had.

She had to say, Steve's apologies were often cheesy and terrible, but this one wasn’t so bad as it was enjoyable.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 9

Merry Christmas!

Chapter 8 | Masterlist | Chapter 10

Warnings: Crying, Virgil getting teased for basically being a sugar daddy, Logan attempting to deny his ever-growing chocolate addiction

P- (10:00 AM) Happy First Day of Christmas!

R- (10:01 AM) On the First Day of Christmas my true love gave to me

R- (10:01 AM) A Partridge in a Pear Tree

V- (10:02 AM) Okay first of all the 12 days of Christmas are December 25th to January 5th. The partridge is supposed to represent Jesus, whose birthday marks the 1st day.

V- (10:02 AM) Second of all, why isn’t Logan pointing out that Christmas is in 24 days, like he did with me for Halloween?

L- (10:03 AM) No comment.

R- (10:03 AM) Didn’t strike you for the religious type, storm cloud. And Logan won’t say anything because he gets a homemade chocolate Christmas calendar.

V- (10:04 AM) I had a very religious English teacher. And seriously, Lo? I gave you chocolate weekly and you STILL reprimanded my “Days of Halloween” until the chocolate bouquet. How much chocolate are they giving you?

L- (10:04 AM) No. Comment.

P- (10:05 AM) [*Photo attachment*]

[The photo is of a giant wooden calendar leading up to December 25th. It’s painted white with red doors covering the days. It’s obviously been used for many years. The 1st day is open, and there is a gallon-sized container of truffles next to the calendar. The container is half-empty]

V- (10:06 AM) L, please tell me you didn’t just eat half that container of truffles in 5 minutes.

L- (10:06 AM) NO. COMMENT.

R- (10:06 AM) He did it in 3.

L- (10:06 AM) TRAITOR!

V- (10:07 AM) IF YOU’RE THAT ADDICTED TO CHOCOLATE WHY WERE YOU MAD ABOUT THE BOUQUETS?!?!

L- (10:07 AM) BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE YOU SPENT $150 ON THEM!

V- (10:07 AM) IT WAS $118!

P- (10:08 AM) Kiddo, you don’t have to spend that much money on us!

V- (10:08 AM) I know, but it makes me really happy to spoil you guys!

V- (10:08 AM) Speaking of which, what do you guys want for Christmas?

R- (10:09 AM) Give us a moment

R- (10:09 AM) Last time you asked this I jokingly said “Katana” and you actually BOUGHT ONE

R- (10:09 AM) Now we actually have to think about what we want.

Virgil snorted, pocketing his phone. He didn’t have anything planned for today, so he went about sketching. He decided to do some elaborate snowflakes, each with their own unique design. He felt his phone go off several times in a row, so he quickly picked it up and scrolled through Princey’s rant.

R- (10:15 AM) We have made our decisions

R- (10:15 AM) Patton would like one of your more elaborate sketches. Something that makes you smile. If you need to buy him something, he would greatly appreciate some new cooking supplies or some stuffed animals.

R- (10:15 AM) Logan would like a new telescope. His original one broke a few days ago and he hasn’t found the time to get a new one. Some chocolate would also be appreciated.

R- (10:15 AM) And I would like a new set of headphones and anything Disney related.

R- (10:16 AM) But if you are going to buy anything for us, please let us return the favor. I understand your desire to not meet, but the thought of you giving us gifts with nothing in return is pure torture.

Virgil bit his lip, a habit he’d quickly developed after he met these guys. He’s already known them for over 6 months, and they’ve shown no signs of recognizing him or trying to use him. In fact, they’ve done the exact opposite. They respect his want to remain faceless; and while they do like the gifts that he gives them, they discourage him from spending more than he’s comfortable with (what they don’t realize is that he’d try and buy them the world if they asked for it). Virgil sighed (another habit that he's started partaking in more and more) and sent a quick response.

V- (10:17 AM) If I send you my address, do you promise to not try and come over while I’m home?

R- (10:17 AM) We swear on our honor that we will only visit when you are not home, and even then it will be to deliver gifts.

Before Virgil could second-guess himself, he already had his address in the group chat.

P- (10:18 AM) I didn’t realize you lived so close to us, Kiddo!

L- (10:18 AM) Indeed. I have also yet to meet anyone in this city named Virgil.

V- (10:19 AM) Yeah, I don’t really get out much and even then I don’t share my name.

R- (10:19 AM) Well, now that we have a place to send gifts, here comes the question: what would you like for Christmas, JDelightful?

V- (10:21 AM) I mean, new art supplies would be nice. If it helps, I love Nightmare Before Christmas and my favorite colors are black and purple

R- (10:21 AM) Alright, Storm Cloud. We’ll let you know when we’re ready to deliver your gifts!

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(December 18th)

“Remus, Darling, what is that monstrosity in your hands?”

Virgil looked up from his map. They were currently in Aventura Mall, the largest shopping mall in Florida. They liked to come here every year for Christmas shopping, and they had a small set of stores that they went to each time. But Virgil had a longer list this year, so he needed a map to tell him where the other stores were. In front of him stood Janus and Remus. Remus appeared to be holding a pile of condiments. “It’s a hotdog,” he said. He took a bite out of the top, clearly missing the hotdog. Virgil noticed that the inside of the condiment pile was white, and he couldn’t tell if it was mayonnaise, marshmallow fluff, sour cream, or whipped cream. Knowing Remus, it could be any of them, or even a combination of the four. Virgil suddenly wasn’t curious anymore, or hungry.

“Come on, the first store’s just up ahead.” They made their way to the first store, which had one of Virgil’s gifts for Patton.

“Virgil, why are we stopping here? It’s not like we have a very specific set of stores we visit every year.”

Virgil’s eyes were suddenly glued to the sale in front of him, his cheeks bright red. “I just have a few more items on my list this year, that’s all.”

“Oh? May we see?” Virgil nodded, covering the section for Janus and Remus’ gifts before showing them his list.

They stared at the list for a while before Remus burst into giggles. “You really are their Sugar Daddy, aren’t ya?”

Virgil’s face grew even redder, if possible. He quickly turned back to the sale, grabbing what he wanted before making a beeline to the next aisle. “Shut up, Remus. I just like buying stuff for them, that’s all.”

“Right, and that’s definitely not the literal definition of a Sugar Daddy.” Janus replied, picking up one of the items in fake interest. Virgil was going to respond, he really was, but he got a text and he’d rather talk to his crushes than try and explain himself to these knuckleheads.

P- (2:36 PM) Hey, Kiddo! Are you home right now?

V- (2:37 PM) No, I’m at the mall right now. Probably won’t be home until around 8.

P- (2:37 PM) Alright, just wondering! Have a nice time!

Virgil fondly rolled his eyes, going back to the items on his list. The list wasn’t long enough for 5 hours worth of shopping, but Janus will probably want him to come over after their trip. Speaking of Janus, Virgil tuned out the giggling idiots behind him. He’d try and dissuade them from making “Sugar Daddy” comments later; right now, he needed to compare these prices.

Just as Virgil expected, they finished shopping at around 5 and Janus insisted that Virgil stay over for a while. Virgil tried to be as dramatic as possible, summoning his inner Princey as he ‘begrudgingly’ agreed to come over. They hung out for a few more hours, making snarky comments and discussing Virgil’s new “Sugar Daddy” title. Time flew by and before Virgil knew it, he was getting a text from Patton.

P- (7:34 PM) Hey, Kiddo! I just dropped off a box on your back porch. It has wrapped presents from the three of us and my homemade chicken n’ dumplings! I hope you enjoy them (we’re eating them on Christmas Eve) and don’t open your presents until Christmas morning! Hope you like them!

V- (7:35 PM) I’m sure I will, Patton. Thank you

P- (7:35 PM) No problem, Kiddo!

Virgil asked Janus to give him a ride home and sure enough, a large box stood on his back porch. Inside were three wrapped gifts and a closed Tupperware container. Virgil quickly brought the box inside, putting the container in the fridge and the presents under the tree. The three presents were the same size, with red, blue or silver wrapping paper. It was quite obvious who each gift was from, and they were probably all in the same standard boxes. Virgil smiled, going to wrap presents for his crushes.

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

(December 25th)

Virgil woke up to his alarm going off at 10 AM. Which was weird, since he almost always woke up before his alarm went off. His mind went back to last night, with the heavenly taste of chicken n’ dumplings and enough Christmas puns to send Virgil back into a giggle-fest. He slowly got up, meandering his way out to the living room. He quickly sent a text to the group chat.

V- (10:02 AM) Merry Christmas, guys

P- (10:02 AM) MERRY CHRISTMAS, KIDDO!

R- (10:02 AM) MERRY CHRISTMAS, STORM CLOUD!

L- (10:03 AM) Merry Christmas, Virgil.

R- (10:03 AM) Now that you’re up, we can open our presents!

V- (10:03 AM) How long have you guys been up?

L- (10:04 AM) They both woke up at 6 AM. I convinced them to wait for you to wake naturally before opening presents, since most of these gifts were from you.

V- (10:04 AM) Alright, then. Let’s get to opening these gifts.

Virgil decided to wait until the others opened their gifts before opening his. He already knew what he got them, but he had no idea what they got from each other.

R- (10:10 AM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of a wrapping paper massacre. In the center of the massacre are a set of gifts. The first one is a red pillow with the name ROMAN embroidered in gold letters, probably from Patton. The next gift is a book about the history of musicals, most likely from Logan. Virgil had gotten him a sleek set of headphones and a stack of Disney t-shirts. The headphones were red with gold stars on the ears and the word PRINCEY written in silver.]

P- (10:11 AM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is also of a wrapping paper massacre with several presents. There were two Winnie the Pooh posters from Roman and a new cookbook from Logan. From Virgil, there was a set of stainless steel cookware, a light blue stuffed dog, and 4 of Virgil's snowflake sketches. Each snowflake had small details that pertained to a specific person, such as crowns, hearts, stars, and storm clouds.]

L- (10:12 AM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo has all of the wrapping paper neatly set off to the side. There was a navy blue pillow with Logan's name embroidered in silver from Patton. There were several posters of different galaxies from Roman. Virgil had gotten him a large metal telescope and several boxes of chocolate. The telescope was navy blue with silver accents.]

P- (10:12 AM) I LOVE THESE! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!

R- (10:12 AM) THESE ARE FANTASTIC! YOU ALL HAVE MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE.

L- (10:13 AM) I also appreciate the gifts, but VIRGIL HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND?

V- (10:13 AM) No comment ;)

P- (10:14 AM) Did you open your presents, Kiddo?

Virgil turned back to the three boxes, an anxious pit in his stomach. What did they get him? He carefully unwrapped each present. Like he suspected, each present was a standard cardboard box that was taped shut. He turned to Logan's present first. The box contained a new set of art supplies and a sketch pad with a dark purple cover. The first page had a note that read:

"I sincerely enjoy your drawings. The one of the night skies was particularly pleasing. I look forward to seeing more of your art in the future. - Logan"

Virgil blushed at the compliment, turning to Roman's gift. Inside were several Nightmare Before Christmas posters and plushies, with a note explaining that he had bought the posters back in August because "they reminded me of you, storm cloud."

Blushing even more, Virgil turned to Patton's present. When he first opened the box, it looked like a pile of fabric. When he picked it up, however, he was shocked. It was a black hoodie with hand-sewn purple patches. The name “Virgil” was embroidered into one of the patches. Virgil immediately put it on. It was loose and slightly baggy, different from the tight black jacket that he wore as Anxiety. He loved it. Virgil went to text a response when he saw something sticking out of the hoodie pocket. He grabbed the note and felt tears forming in his eyes. It was actually a card, the front saying UR FAM. The inside had a giant heart with the letters ILY. Virgil knew that it was just a pun on family, that this wasn’t actually a confession of love, but a tiny part of him hoped that this meant what he thought it meant.

But he would never tell them that. No, the last thing he wanted was to ruin their friendship. He shakily grabbed his phone and blindly pressed send photo, wanting to send a picture of the gifts like they did. As he angled the camera to show off all of the gifts, he started muttering to himself. “God, these are perfect. It’s all perfect. Goddammit, Virgil, stop crying.” He quickly took the photo and hit send, still misty-eyed from the gifts. Sure, he had gotten gifts from Janus and Remus, but they had never sent such personal gifts, much less heartfelt notes! He quickly wiped his eyes when he felt his phone buzz. He went to check the messages when he felt his heart stop. “Oh Shit.”

V- (10:19 AM) [*Video Sent*]

P- (10:20 AM) Virgil, sweety, why are you crying?

L- (10:20 AM) I believe that Virgil is feeling “emotional.”

R- (10:21 AM) That’s alright, Storm Cloud. There’s nothing wrong with crying when you’re happy! You are happy, right?

Virgil had sent a video. Where he bawled his eyes out and muttered nonsense to the camera. God, Virgil had never wanted to stop existing more than he did now.

V- (10:21 AM) I’m happy, Princey. Embarrassed, but definitely happy.

R- (10:22 AM) No need to feel embarrassed, my Raven. After all, you’ve given us so much over the past few months. Knowing that our gifts made you THAT happy is… quite nice. We care about you, Virgil. It’s nice to be able to show you in ways beyond words.

V- (10:23 AM) Thanks, guys. It means a lot to me.

L- (10:23 AM) It was no issue, Virgil. Now, weren’t you planning on going to your friend’s house today?

V- (10:24 AM) Yeah, I should be going soon. Thanks guys, and Merry Christmas

L- (10:24 AM) Merry Christmas, Virgil.

P- (10:24 AM) Merry Christmas, Kiddo!

R- (10:24 AM) Merry Christmas, Storm Cloud!

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[wrestlethethistles]

1. Best book you have read in 2021 so far?

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke. Wildly different from Jonathan Strange in many ways, but I think I read the whole thing in two sittings because it so hooked me. Beautiful and odd and compelling.

2. Best sequel you have read in 2021 so far?

A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers. It’s got a smaller scope of focus in some ways than The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, but I really connected to both Pepper and Lovey. Enjoyed spending time with them, and can’t wait to find out who I get to meet in book three.

3. A new release you want to check out?

A recent addition to my to-read list is Robert McCrum’s Shakespearean, which frames the author’s relationship to Shakespeare in the wake of a stroke.

4. Most anticipated book release of the second half of the year?

There is less than half the year left, whoops. That said, literally always excited for a new Ann Patchett release (These Precious Days is coming in November).

5. Biggest surprise?

Everyone was full of praise for No One Is Talking about This by Patricia Lockwood, but the precise way that it was good totally knocked me out. Lockwood is able to capture what being “very online” feels like. I was prepared for that to be the whole of the book (and would have been perfectly happy with it), but then it goes to other places I never expected.

6. Biggest disappointment?

I really wanted to like Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series, but after trying two books, they just weren’t for me. I like the conceit, but the execution left me hungry to see things that we’re told about, and sometimes to pass over seeing things we’ve already heard about before.

7. Favourite new author (either new to you or debut)?

Kristin Kobes Du Mez really knocked me out with Jesus and John Wayne. I’ll be keeping an eye out for future releases from her.

8. Favourite new fictional crush?

HMM I don’t really have a new one, but I’m forever devoted to Harriet Vane and I read Strong Poison for the first time this year. (Yes, I did read this series out of order, why do you ask.)

9. Newest favourite character?

The narrator of the aforementioned Piranesi is perfect and I love him.

10. A book that made you happy?

Loved the experience of reading N.K. Jemison’s How Long ‘til Black Future Month? I know this is a cliche comparison for short story collections, but it really was like eating a box of chocolates with the perfect assurance I’d enjoy every single filling. Hard to pick standouts, but "L'Alchimista" and "Too Many Yesterdays, Not Enough Tomorrows" especially stuck with me.

11. A book that made you cry?

The death of the title character in Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet was brutal.

12. Most beautiful book you have bought or received this year?

Regula Ysewijn's The British Baking Book, which I got for my birthday. It's a beautiful combination history book/cookbook, in which both the text and the recipes are equally appealing. And it's so pretty I've left it sitting out on my counter so I can just page through while making my morning coffee.

13. What book do you need to read by the end of the year?

I don’t know about “need,” exactly, but of the books on my to-read for 2021 shortlist, I’m most excited about getting to Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. I’ve seen the Hitchcock film many times, but after reading Jamaica Inn in 2019, this one’s been high on my list. I just bought a copy a few weeks ago and it’s up as soon as I finish one of my two current books.

14. What book do you need to re-read by the end of the year?

I reread Dickens’ A Christmas Carol every December, and I don’t anticipate making an exception.

taken from @pythionice, original questions from ??? (my sleuthing let me down), do it if you like

[mysewingadventures]

I have finally finished my stays!

Honestly, it took so much less time than I had anticipated! Having made a pair of stays before, pretty much exactly a year ago, I knew better than to underestimate the time I would spend on them. Last year, it took me an entire month, but it was pretty much my first sewing project ever (if we ignore that one time I had to make a handbag for my art class... it was.. something.) I definitely expected to be working for at least 3 weeks, but I got it done in just 8 days and I spent about 3-4 hours every day sewing so it’s not even 8 entire days of full time work?? I’m so surprised.

But let’s get to the final update and explain what my last steps were. I left off with a pretty solid almost finished pair of stays the last time I wrote an update, but the binding was still missing, and the straps. The original one had straps, but for some reason I thought I could get away without making them so I didn’t at first, but upon trying them on at this unfinished stage I realized the shape wasn’t meant to be worn without them.

Unfortunately I forgot to take pictures documenting my process of making them, but I basically had a 30x4cm ruler that I thought was good enough as a "pattern", so I literally just traced the ruler on black linen four times and on gray cotton twice. My stays are gray on the inside and I thought about making the straps gray on the side that faces the body as well, but then decided to sandwich it between two linen layers each so the gray fabric wouldn’t be visible. I then sewed one black and one gray panel together, flatlining those and then sewing the final black panel right sides together and turning it inside out. I pressed the straps because they turned out pretty thin and round (the thin part was planned, the roundness not so much).

Now for the binding. I bought a 4m black linen tape (I still can’t believe I used it all but just 7cm!! I totally guessed the length I needed) and folded it in half and pressed it.

Exciting picture, I know. Next, I machine stitched the boning channels shut by sewing very close to the edges, to keep bones from poking out after a few wears. I’m not entirely sure this did the trick but I’ve never done this step before and I’ve always had boning poking out, so... I thought I’d give it a try. (Spoiler, I’ve worn it a few times now and all the bones are still secure!) Then, I tried to pin the binding to the bottom of the stays as well as I could and began hand stitching it. It required a lot of precision to stitch the top and bottom side while having the stays sandwiched in between, that’s why I had to do it by hand. But sweet baby Jesus it took so long. I worked just on the binding for three days.

I also cut off all the edges and excess that was in the way. I made the mistake of cutting the tape in the first few corners and I deeply regret it. Thankfully, you can barely see it as it’s black on black but I should’ve left it in one piece and taken the time to really place it properly instead of taking "the easy way out", which obviously doesn’t look as good. But you learn from your mistakes, don’t you.

Once the binding was done, I just had to attach the straps and I was good to go! I sewed them on in the back, just like it was on the original, and machine stitched some eyelets in the front. I also added some eyelets to the front of the stays and used some corset lacing to secure them.

(Oh shoot, I just realized I completely forgot to ever mention that I added eyelets to the stays... Oh well, I machine stitched them and used a rusty old nail (would not recommend, but it was the only thing that worked for me) to poke a hole through. It’s generally better to spread the fabric rather than cut a hole in it, it won’t tear as quickly.

I also never said I hand felled the seams on the inside... I did that too at some point.

Wow I think I really missed to write an entire update. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyways, I added the back lacing and I was ready to wear them!

I took some pictures on the mannequin so it’s better to see the details:

The work was so worth it, I’m so happy with the result! I don’t think I really love the way it doesn’t have any boning at the very front, it feels weird wearing it because the boning everywhere is keeping your body in shape or shaping it in some kind of way but not there. Maybe it was meant to be worn with a stomacher? But other than that it is super comfortable, it gets the job done, so yeah I can’t really complain at all!

[ubernoxa]

The Sip: A Modern Day GNR AU

Chapter 3: The BBQ

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

“Is this the place?” Sandy asked me as we pulled up to the house I was at only this morning. The white exterior paired with the large black garage doors were the spitting image of the ones that I saw earlier today. The nerves of seeing Duff again quickly returned when we pulled into his rather spacious driveway.

“Yup, this was the place,” I replied as she parked next to a car that looked at least three times as expensive as Sandy’s.

“We got in the wrong business. We should have become rockstars,” Sandy’s eyes

“I have never been so nervous getting out of a car before in my life,” I joked back as I gently opened Sandy’s car door paying extra care to not hit the very expensive muscle car that she parked next to.

“God, I feel like such a peasant,” I couldn’t agree more with Sandy as I sent Duff a message that we made it. There was no way I was heading in there without knowing where he was. The place was most likely packed to the brim and the fewer awkward interactions I had, the better.

He quickly responded with instructions to head through the back gate which was thankfully unlocked.

The backyard was lined with trees, shrubs and a large fence for what I assumed were put there for privacy. A large pool sitting in the center filled with only a couple people was calling my name. Despite living in California I couldn’t remember the last time I went swimming.

“Wow this place is beautiful,” Sandy said as we walked through the backyard, and I couldn’t agree more. The grass was the greenest grass I had seen in a long time. To my surprise, the place wasn’t as packed as I expected. When we walked in I immediately saw Duff who was original by the grill chatting with Slash. The butterflies in my stomach swarmed into chaos as he walked over towards Sandy and I. Everything about him looked effortless. His blonde and brown hair looked barely styled, but still somehow managed to frame his face perfectly. He looked so causal as he walked over without a shirt on.

Don’t stare Alanah, don’t stare.

“Hey, glad you guys made it! Hopefully it wasn’t to bad of a drive. Want some beers?” I was about to say no due to the fact I was still hung over, but Sandy immediately interrupted me and said yes.

“Where is the bathroom?” I turned in panic towards Sandy was she spoke. She couldn’t just leave me alone with Duff! What if there is a like awkward silence or I say something stupid?

Once he gave her directions she whispered in my ear, “Go get him tigress.”

What the literal fuck. I love her to death, but what the fuck?

“What type of beer do ya want?”

“The alcoholic type,” the words left my mouth before my brain processed what I was about to say. Jesus Christ, he must think I’m such a weirdo.

I felt relief flow through me as he laughed and shook his head.

“Trust me, the only type of beer we have here is the alcoholic type,” his damn smirk shined again as he opened the cooler.

“Pick your poison,” my eyes darted from beer to beer trying to decide which one I should get. A purple tinted one caught my eye and I reached down to grab it.

“BlackBerry...interesting,” I looked at him and he still had his damn smirk on his face. I felt like he was a psychologist or something, studying me.

“Don’t mock it until you try it,” I shrugged before twisting the cap of and followed Duff to some chaise lounges.

“Feel free to keep your crap here, we have towels if you want to go for a swim. The water is actually heated which is kinda refreshing in the Fall. It’s a bitch in the summer though because you feel like a damn lobster being boiled when one of your band mates decides to leave the heat on overnight and doesn’t tell you,” As he spoke I placed my bag on the lounge and took my shirt off revealing the top piece of my bikini. No one else was swearing a shirt so why should I?

I definitly spent an hour or so digging through my dresser trying to decide which bikini to wear. I wasn’t trying to impress Duff, I just wanted to look good...I wanted to look good when Duff saw me...so maybe I was trying to impress him, but that doesn’t matter. I settled on this cheetah print one thanks to some advice from Sandy on how I shouldn’t look like a total slut in front of him just yet. Plus who doesn’t like a good animal print?

I felt his eyes on me as I took another sip of my beer and now it was my turn to smirk. So the rockstar was a fan of cheetah print? Good to know.

By now I assumed that Sandy had found someone else to occupy her time, probably someone of the male variety, so it was just me and Duff. Fuck.

“So..is this your place?” I asked him before taking another sip of my delicious beer. Who knew that alcohol could taste this good?

“Yup, it was my first big purchase!” I smiled at him as pride shot through his features. I figured this place must have been a huge upgrade from his last place.

“Well it is very very nice and puts Sandy’s and my place to absolute shame,” I made hand gestures in attempt to dramaticise how much nice his place was.

“So what does one do to have a not as nice place to live,” his playful tone caught me off guard.

“Well you saw my Instagram page when you DMed me, so you know the answer to that,” If he was going to play, I was going to tease right back.

“Social media influencer is one of the broadest job titles in the world,” he laughed back making my heart skip a beat. I loved his contagious laugh.

“Hmm and you didn’t look at ANY of my photos or click the link in my bio?” I continued my teasing efforts making sure that a smile stayed on his face.

“Are you asking if I stalked you on social media?” His voice was almost a whisper as he spoke. I could barely hear him above the music that filled his backyard.

“Now that’s not fair I asked you a question first,” I finished my drink placing it down on the ground next to me as I spoke.

He laughed again, and asked another question I assume to avoid answering mine,”what do I do?”

“Okay, there is no way in hell knowing what you do is comparable to you knowing what I do,” I laughed back at him. He definitly stalked me on Instagram. I knew it because he accidentally liked one of my photos from a couple months back. Was he too proud to admit it?

“What would you define as what you do then, just pretend we live in a world without social media,” whenever he spoke, his smile never faltered. I thanked God for the beer that calmed my nerves.

“Well that sounds like a scary world, Rockstar,” I teased back. It would mostly be a scary would because I would be unemployed but that is besides the point.

“Ohh so my name is Rockstar now?”

“Why yes it is Mr Rockstar!”

“Alright YouTuber,” he teased back before finishing off his own beer.

“So you did look,” I smiled as he finally admitted it.

“Prove it!” He challenged back.

“You just did,” I winked before standing up and looking around for somewhere to place my beer.

“Do you remember meeting the guys last night,” he raised an eyebrow at me as I shook my head not. If I was being honest I remembered jack shit from last night.

“Come on then, let’s go meet the guys,” he grabbed my hand and I followed him over to where Steven was chatting up some girl.

“Stevie, this is Alanah from last night,” I couldn’t help but smile as he pulled me in for a hug.

“How could I forget my karaoke partner?” He cheered earning some laughter from Duff. It was clear that he was trying to hide it but horribly failed.

“Karaoke?” Dear god, how much of a fool did I make myself out to be.

“Yeah, is recommend leaving the musical stuff to the professional, and sticking to your day job,” Duff teased back.

“What’s your day job?” The girl next to Stevie asked.

“I don’t know Duff aka Social media stalker, what is my job?” I turned towards Duff unable to hid my smirk. He was going to admit that he stalked me on social media. It was only a question of when.

“Well Duff that’s another thing us band mates got in common,” I turned towards Stevie to glare at him for him ruining my setup to making him admit he stalked me, but I couldn’t. His smile was too contagious.

“Well I hope you’re better at it than him. This newbie here accidentally liked a picture of mine from a few months ago?” I looked back at him to see him laughing and shaking his head.

“If you knew, why did you want me to admit it?”

“I like watching you squirm,” it wasn’t a lie. It was kinda funny to see the big famous badass rockstar squirm.

“You down for shot hill tonight?” Stevie asked before Duff and I were going to leave to probably go meet someone else I had completely forgotten about.

“You know that ain’t a question. We can use the plastic ones in the basement. I actually bought them for this. I don’t want to be cleaning up glass again. Make sure to tell Izzy and Axl. They have to chose which one of them is setting the game up,” Duff replied before we left. What the hell was shot hill. Did they just stack a bunch of shots on a hill and drink them?

“Shot hill?” I quizzed Duff before we met another one of his bandmates.

“It’s a game of shots, just make sure when we play it you’re fully dressed because we will probably be on a team together,” I felt him quickly look me up and down, but before I could make a sarcastic remark back I heard someone yell that dinner was ready. I guess my questions will have to wait.

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Week 23 Roundup!  

We have exactly 450 fills so far in this round of the BBB, which is just AMAZING!  Make sure to leave some love for our wonderful participants!

Title: Guarding You - Chapter 8: Guardian Angel Collaborator: Fighting_for_Creativity, Purple_ducky00 Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Letting go (for Ducky) Ship: WinterIronHusband Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Shooting, Violence, AU Bodyguard, AU College/University, College Student Tony Stark, College Student Rhodey, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Dorks in love, Falling In Love, Fade to black sex, slices of life, Mention of alcohol, creep tries to creep on Tony, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Pining, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau/Nick Fury, mentioned dog, betrayal, Violence, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Injury Recovery, Clint Barton Trolls People    Summary: Though he was fired, Bucky saves Tony's life. Word Count: 12,353

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Title: Laying in wait Collaborator: kalee60 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - First Time Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Implied Sexual Content, Puns & Word Play, Light Pining Summary: When Bucky’s sister gets engaged and has a destination party, he’d never imagined that they’d overbook the hotel and he’d be stuck sharing a bed with his best friend. Which of course wouldn’t have been an issue, not at all, except that pesky part where Bucky had been in love with Steve his whole life. But maybe, just maybe this rooming oversight might just be the push he needed to see what was right in front of him the whole time. Word Count: 1599

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Title: You better make sure you put me in my place Collaborator: call-me-kayyyyy Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U3 - Till Death Do Us Part Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: art, no serum bucky, no serum steve, wedding Summary: No-Serum AU where long-haired mechanic!Bucky and skinny artist!Steve tie the knot. ❤️

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Title: Here come the champs Collaborator: abitnotgoodiebag Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C1 - Paintball Ship: BuckySam Rating: Gen Major Tags: art  Summary: Paintball isn’t just recreation for these two, it’s a lifestyle.

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Title: Perfect Soldiers Collaborator: phoenixgryphon Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U3 - BAMF Bucky Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art, Jurassic Park AU Summary: A Jurassic World crossover; Russians had interest in purchasing the Indoraptor, what if those Russians were the Russian branch of Hydra? Hydra took immediate interest in the specimen, it was strong, fast had no metal arm and deadly, making for a fine counterpart to work alongside their existing Asset. Of course there was the whole issue of making it comply, but to Hydra that’s nothing a little programming can’t fix.aka you don’t get any more bamf than TWS working with a dinosaur.

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Title: Guarding You - Chapter 9: Guarding You Collaborator: Fighting_for_Creativity, Purple_ducky00 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Forgiveness, Ducky Y3 - Take the Shot, J_Gun_I Ship: WinterIronWar Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Shooting, Violence, AU Bodyguard, AU College/University, College Student Tony Stark, College Student Rhodey, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Dorks in love, Falling In Love, Fade to black sex, slices of life, Mention of alcohol, creep tries to creep on Tony, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Pining, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau/Nick Fury, mentioned dog, betrayal, Violence, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Injury Recovery, Clint Barton Trolls People Summary: The boys do what they have failed to to so far, talking it out. Word Count: 13,650

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Title: gentle and soft Collaborator: plutosrose Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - Kink: Gentle Sex Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Gentle Sex, slightly pwp, Established Relationship Summary: Bucky tries to understand why he wants Steve to be so gentle with him. Word Count: 1288

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Title: Missed Dance- Second Chance Collaborator: fightingforcreativity Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - Surprise Dancing Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Soft, Fluff, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Soft Tony Stark Summary: A mission delayed Bucky's plan to go out with his boyfriend. Thankfully said boyfriend was nothing if not resourceful. Word Count: 980

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Title: I Thought You Were Smaller Collaborator: ariasfandom Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - Free Square Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Smut, WWII era Stucky, dirty talk, size kink Summary: It’s the first night Steve and Bucky are together since Bucky was shipped out months ago, and Bucky wants to make up for lost time, and show him how much he loves his partner and his new body. Word Count: 1975

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Title: Kill List Collaborator: shadow-ravin Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Kill List Ship: Bucky & Steve, Bucky & Natasha Rating: Mature Major Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, 5+1 Things, Friendship, Killing, Character Death, But only bad guys die, Torture, Revenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: 5 times Bucky killed someone and one time he didn’t have to. Word Count: 805

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Title: Snowed In Collaborator: steves-on-a-plane Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Sharing Body Heat Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: not listed Summary: The last person that Reader wanted to be paired up with on a mission is the quiet and elusive Bucky Barnes. When the pair get snowed in together during a mission they have no choice but to warm up to each other. figuratively and literally. Word Count: 1373

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Title: bruises make for better conversation Collaborator: nightwideopen Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - AU: Supernatural Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: Blood/Gore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comics/Movie Crossover, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Clint Barton, Pain Kink, Lovers to Lovers    Summary: “Jesus Christ, Barnes, what the hell is that?” Bucky let Clint feed off of him last night, and it got kind of… intense. To say the least. But he can’t exactly tell Tony that because he doesn’t know where Clint’s at with their whole… sexual blood sucking thing. Also, no one knows that Clint is a vampire. Word Count: 4331

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Title: Speed Dating Collaborator: arrowsandmixtapes Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y5 - Speed Dating Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: A few poorly placed easter eggs. Summary: Your desperation pays off when you meet a handsome man at a speed dating event. Word Count: 820

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Title: Vacation Gone Wrong Collaborator: jurassicworjd Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - Going On Vacation Together Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Teen Major Tags: swearing Summary: Marvel meets Jurassic World. Bucky knew from the beginning it was going to go wrong when Clint told them that he bought tickets to the famous Jurassic World theme park. Yet somehow, he allows his boyfriend to drag him out there anyways. Word Count: 3183

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Title: You Alone Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 1: C2 - IMG: Tony working on Bucky’s arm Chapter 2: U4 - Take the Shot Chapter 3: U5 - Abandonment Issues Chapter 4: Y2 - Kink: BDSM Chapter 5: Y3 - Last TImes/Farewells Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, single parent tony stark, Omega Tony Stark, Alpha Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, Protective Harley Keener, Meddling Kids, First Dates, First Kiss, Past Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone, Panic Attacks, Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Anal Sex, Light BDSM, Multiple Orgasms, Knotting, Weddings Summary: Life as a single parent isn’t easy, but Tony is proud of what he’s accomplished over the last fifteen years. He has his own electronics repair shop and has managed to keep his son Harley away from his toxic ex. So what if every alpha he sees puts him on edge? Most of his customers are omegas, anyway, and he’s content never to date again if it means never again having to go through the shit that Harley’s sire put him through. Bucky is more than intrigued by the smart and beautiful omega who’s repairing his arm, but Tony smells like fear, and Bucky doesn’t want to make things worse. He has to put a lot of effort into making sure not to trip Tony’s triggers -- made doubly hard by the fact that Tony doesn’t want to talk about them -- but he thinks it could be well worth the effort in the end. Word Count: 14,938

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Title: The Red Star Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U5 - AU:Pirate Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Explicit Major Tags: m/f explicit smut, choking, public sex, exhibitionism, prostitution, name calling Summary: Pirate captain Barnes of The Red Star makes port and goes directly to the reader, his favourite prostitute, for some release. Word Count: 1305

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Title: (my hair) Through your fingertips Collaborator: darter_blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: C5 - “Kiss me.” Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - post Captain America: The Winter Soldier, hair washing, first kiss Summary: The asset left Steve by the river. Damaged. Broken.The asset himself is both of those things. But Steve should be neither.The asset needs to find Steve to makes sure he’s okay. Needs to right his wrong (just one of so many). And he needs to find Steve because he WANTS to, though he may not fully understand what wanting even means.Something inside him feels peace at the memory of Steve’s face (the only memory the asset can hold onto) and he maybe just wants to FEEL things again. Or for the first time…He just can’t remember… Word Count: 3651

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Title: Between a Rock and a Hard Place Collaborator: queen-of-the-avengers Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U4 - Rebecca Barnes Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: minor angst, crack fic, fluff and implied smut at the end Summary: ou and your two best friends are fighting, and you’re caught in the middle of it. The only person who will listen to you is your boyfriend, Bucky. Word Count: 1.1k

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Title: Aria in B♭ - Chapter 8 Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Square Filled: B4 - Alcohol Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, opera singer Bucky Barnes, nobleman Tony Stark, Prostitution, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dubious Consent, Pining, Dueling, Gambling Summary: Lord Stark has his faults -- a bit too fond of a drink, a little too reckless at cards, and entirely too happy to flout his good fortune in his rivals’ faces. But a man as wealthy and powerful as Tony Stark is bound to have a few peccadillos. What he is not, is the sort of man who would force himself upon another unwilling, unlike Lord Killian, who seems to have taken a particular shine to an opera singer in the troupe Killian is hosting. Tony rescues Mr. Barnes from Killian’s untender mercies, moves the troupe into his own home, and takes Mr. Barnes as his bed companion for the season. The arrangement provides protection for Bucky and the troupe from Killian’s spite, and tweaks Killian at the same time -- a win all around, as far as Tony is concerned. He wasn’t counting on Bucky being so utterly charming and wonderful, or for the possibility that he might actually, after so many years a bachelor, fall in love. Word Count: 28,643

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Title: Siren - Chapter 3: Roundtable Rival Collaborator: Writing_mermaid Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - language Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Mature Major Tags: Language, mention of injuries, Steve is an asshole Summary: Y/N is a mutant, a Siren, the last of her kind, with deadly dangerous powers and a hidden past. If most of the Avengers likes and get along with her, Steve doesn’t, and it’s getting worse when Y/N and Bucky become close. After all what can bring two broken souls together if it’s not a dark past. Word Count: 5564

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Title: Obnoxiously Perfect Collaborator: plutosrose Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Alpine Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Developing Relationship, Coffee Date, Brief Mentions of Grief, Self-Esteem, Finding Your Crush and His Ex on Social Media, Brief Mention of Past Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov Summary: After hooking up with Steve at a faculty reception, Bucky consults Alpine for advice. Word Count: 2899

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Title: It's Only a Paper Moon - Chapter 1 Collaborator: SierraNovembr Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Bucky/Tony Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Depiction of a mental asylum, established relationship, Edwin Jarvis Summary: Fighting aliens alongside Captain America? A loving, supportive fiancé who overlooks the many flaws of Tony Stark? Tony often thought his life was too amazing to be real.  He might just be right about that. Word Count: 831

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Title: We Shall Be Monsters - Chapter 2: Dead All Day Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y1 - Hallucinations Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: mentioned torture, Frankenstein inspired, reincarnation, rise from the dead, gross, dead bodies Summary: This is your 6:30am Rise from the Dead call... Word Count: 1370

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Title: Worth It Collaborator: darter-blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 - Pet rock Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Modern Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Romance, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Summary: Bucky is not having a great time here, speed dating was not the ‘opportunity to meet someone great’ he had been promised. This was just a faster, more efficient way for Bucky to get dumped. Until someone new sits down gracefully into the seat opposite him. Bucky’s looking up from where tight blue jeans around thick thighs have slid into the seat, up to a broad chest in a t-shirt that has to be two sizes too small, up to shoulders so wide they could carry a bus, and up, up, up to the most beautiful face Bucky has ever seen in real life. And he’s smiling. A real, enthusiastic smile.At Bucky. Word Count: 2051

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Title: Moments with You (Part 2 of 5) Collaborator: shield-agent78 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U1 - Confessions Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Mature Major Tags: angst, anxiety, stress Summary: Both you and Scott Summers yearn for a beautiful remembrance that cannot be reached. Scott, in the form of Jean Gray, and you in wanting Scott to move on with his life and realize that love can be found again. Word Count: 1285

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Title: 5 Times Bucky and Winter Courted Tony, and 1 Time Tony Realized He Was Courting Back Collaborator: newtypeshadow Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Steve Rogers Ship: Tony/Bucky/Winter Rating: Mature Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Domestic Avengers, Avengers Tower, 5+1 Things, Flerkin Shifter Tony Stark, Wolf Shifter Bucky Barnes, Symbiote Winter, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Courtship, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Rescue Missions, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead animals, fresh meat, Cannibalism, technically, flerkins and symbiotes don't understand why eating delicious human meat is bad, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, murder fluff, Crack Treated Seriously, Getting Together, First Kiss, Aliens, Alien Cultural Differences, Polyamory, Flerkin Tony Stark, Cat Tony Stark Summary: There's a dead bird next to Tony's coffee maker. Gross. Except when Tony shifts into a flerkin. Then it's a delicious gift. Doesn't explain why Bucky and his symbiote, Winter, left it in Tony's kitchen though. Word Count: 10,630

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Title: They Never Went Further, They Never Went Back Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Y2 - rescue mission (chapter one) C3 - free space (chapter two) C1 - recovering Bucky (chapter four) U4 - shoot first, ask later (chapter five) Y1 - hurt/comfort (chapter seven) Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: identity porn, vigilante Iron Man, polyamory negotiations, asexual Bucky Summary: Steve and Bucky’s truck breaks down while they’re out searching for the vigilante Iron Man. Fortunately, mechanic Tony is willing to offer them a place to stay for a few nights. Word Count: 26,893

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Title: Hallucinations Collaborator: ShakespeareanQueer Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B2 - Hallucinations Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Induced hallucinations, angst Summary: When Steve doesn’t make it back on the time travel platform, Bucky asks Wanda for a weird favor. Word Count: 3223

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Title: Better the Devil you know Collaborator: Kalee60 Link: AO3 Square Filled: C4 - Wings Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Bottom Bucky Barnes, POV Bucky Barnes, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, they should really just talk..., Demon Bucky Barnes, Angel Steve Rogers, Denial of Feelings, Misunderstandings Summary: Attending work conferences was never Bucky's idea of a 'good time' - especially when the rival company was Heaven and he happened to be a demon from Hell. Even more unbearable, he'd been tasked to present a seminar (against his will) - Bucky was more about doling out punishments, less about educating his peers.So of course, while Bucky is already down, Steve Rogers turns up, an angel Bucky had been trying desperately to forget for the last millenia… for an array of reasons. Bucky now finds himself in close quarters with his feathery nemesis, and after living multiple lifetimes, was maybe finally learning that there really was a fine line between hate and lust, and an even finer one tethering it all to love? Word Count: 19,912

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Title: Know Your Enemy, Know Yourself Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Mexican standoff Ship: Bucky & Winter Rating: Mature Major Tags: blood and violence, Winter is a separate personality, graphic depiction of violence Summary: The fight between Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier might happen in his head, but that doesn't make it any less real. Word Count: 771

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Title: Unshackled - Chapter 2 Collaborator: LiraelClayr007 Link: AO3 Square Filled: C1 - through a scope Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Amnesia, (of the short term), Sharing a Bed, Fluff, Angst, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Deaf Clint Barton, Hurt Clint Barton, Hydra (Marvel), Slow Burn. Will add more tags and characters as they come up, Escape Summary: Nausea roils in Clint’s stomach, and he’s suddenly glad there’s no food in his stomach. Mind control. HYDRA’s perfected brainwashing and mind control. He needs to get out of here, he needs to tell… But of course it doesn’t matter. Because he’s shackled to the wall across from the fucking Winter Soldier, deep within who knows where surrounded by who knows how many HYDRA goons, and he hasn’t eaten for...how many days now? Even if he could get to his bow, he’s not sure he’d have the strength to draw it.In other words, he’s well and truly fucked. Word Count: 5970

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Title: Aria in B♭ - Chapter 9 Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: I3 - Disability Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, opera singer Bucky Barnes, nobleman Tony Stark, Prostitution, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dubious Consent, Pining, Dueling, Gambling Summary: Lord Stark has his faults -- a bit too fond of a drink, a little too reckless at cards, and entirely too happy to flout his good fortune in his rivals’ faces. But a man as wealthy and powerful as Tony Stark is bound to have a few peccadillos. What he is not, is the sort of man who would force himself upon another unwilling, unlike Lord Killian, who seems to have taken a particular shine to an opera singer in the troupe Killian is hosting. Tony rescues Mr. Barnes from Killian’s untender mercies, moves the troupe into his own home, and takes Mr. Barnes as his bed companion for the season. The arrangement provides protection for Bucky and the troupe from Killian’s spite, and tweaks Killian at the same time -- a win all around, as far as Tony is concerned. He wasn’t counting on Bucky being so utterly charming and wonderful, or for the possibility that he might actually, after so many years a bachelor, fall in love. Word Count:31,979

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Title: [Art] Bingo Clusterfuck - Chapter 11: come on with it, come on Collaborator: call-me-kayyyyy Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Kink: Vibes in Public Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: art, semi-public sex, bottom bucky, top steve, fun-ishment Summary: Steve was done. He was absolutely sick and tired of Bucky riling him up on purpose in front of their tower-mates. Bucky loved making him blush with dirty comments during Avenger's meetings. Flustering him by "accidentally" brushing against his crotch in the community kitchen. Steve had had enough and it was time to teach Bucky a lesson. He sees his moment while their making out like teenagers in front of the big open windows in their apartment. "You like everyone watching Buck? You like it when I get all flushed and hard in front of our friends?" Bucky whined and kissed Steve harder. "Well lets see how you like it, huh sweetie? I'm gonna take you apart, right here where anyone can watch," he growled into Bucky's ear. "Rub your sweet spot till you beg for my cock. Let all of New York see how much you love being on all fours for me." Bucky was gonna learn his lesson alright, maybe twice.

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Title: Dog Days of Summer Collaborator: hddnone Link: Tumblr Square Filled:  K5 - “Oh, hell no” Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: temperature play with ice Summary: Summer was the worst season to have a metal arm.Fortunately Bucky had a boyfriend who would fix that for him. Word Count: 997

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Title: something like home Collaborator: nightwideopen Link: AO3 Square Filled: C4 - Canon Divergence Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: Graphic description of injury, mentions of brainwashing Summary: After the fall of the Triskelion, Clint retreats to his last refuge, the farm house in Iowa that he grew up in. On the way there, he finds an injured dog on the road leading to the Barton farm. Spoiler alert: it's not a dog.It's Bucky Barnes. Word Count: 13,048

[cyncity2000]

73 questions tag! tysm @goodlesson , can’t say i’ve ever had anything like this before but hey it’s not like I have anything better to do rn 😅 

answers under the cut! i tag @rene-royale @teenager-confused-tired @sawafilmtoday @onedoesnotsimplystormthebastille if you feel like it, but no pressure bc this is a LOT and took me a couple days to finish lol

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? um. could be worse, could be better?? so 5. 

describe yourself in a hashtag? no. twitter and all its shitty hashtags can go to hell.

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? weird question. nobody?? i wouldn’t want to??

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? not to be all dan smith on main but like...’come to this please’

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? uhhhh idk. i’m very open about most aspects of my personality i’d say

what’s your wake up ritual? stay in bed as long as possible and then YEET at maximum speed so i don’t waste the day

what’s your go to bed ritual? tell myself i should go to bed. pick up my phone instead. regret it in the morning.

what’s your favorite time of day? 2pm or 9-10pm 

your go to for having a good laugh? macdoesit or drawfee videos on youtube. truly the best.

dream country to visit? i wanna go back to england and france, also i’d love to visit literally anywhere i could

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? falling in love with my college roommate probably,, didn’t see THAT coming

heels or flats/sneakers? bitch i’m 5′10″ with size 12.5 feet. converse.

vintage or new? vintage looks cool. i am not cool. so new.

who do you want to write your obituary? idk man i don’t wanna think about that now???

style icon? if you knew me irl you’d know style is not a word in my vocabulary

what are three things you cannot live without? my cat, my friends/gf, and my cd collection 

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? i do not bake or cook, the real world is going to kill me immediately

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? i’d be too stressed to make food for people but i’d love to like. go OUT for dinner with...dodie, dallon weekes, and pj liguori. they’re all just cool people i follow and i wanna know what they’re LIKE. 

what’s your biggest fear in life? failure due to lack of confidence, motivation and direction in life :)))

window or aisle seat? i’d say window but i am long boi so aisle is usually nicer unless i trip someone by accident

what’s your current tv obsession? still supernatural, also brooklyn 99

favorite app? tumblr :D

secret talent? despite my crippling procrastination issues i’ve almost always been a straight-A student 🤷‍♀️

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? drove myself two hours to a concert in february, or maybe the time i did a really hard ropes course or went to the badlands?

how would you define yourself in three words? introverted, distracted, nerdy

favorite piece of clothing you own? maybe my waterparks sweatshirt bc i had a dream last night that i donated it and then went back to the store to buy it back lmao so subconsciously i must really like it

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? you gotta have that one pair of black jeans that goes with anything imo

a superpower you would want? flying. it’s the only recurring dream i’ve ever had and it’s my only answer ever

what’s inspiring you in life right now? all the people doing big or little things to help. the ones doing instagram lives or sending money or supplies to people in need or just giving me more faith in humanity

best piece of advice you’ve received? can’t remember any. why doesn’t anyone give me good advice

best advice you’d give your teenage self? do your laundry on time. don’t wear...whatever that was to school. just wash ur fuckin clothes. also don’t let it bother you that you’re single the whole time. you’ll get there.

a book everyone should read? they both die at the end by adam silvera. you WILL cry. but you will love it. 

what would you like to be remembered for? i have no idea. being a non-shitty person at least.

how do you define beauty? happiness.

what do you love most about your body? idk being tall is kinda nice

best way to take a rest/decompress? get a blanket. comfy clothes. my cat. put headphones on. put some music on or watch youtube.

favorite place to view art? on tumblr and instagram! i follow soo many wonderful artists it’s great

if your life was a song, what would the title be? Oh No (What Is She Doing Now?)

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano or guitar. i suck at both and if i could be good at ONE i’d be happy

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? been thinking about this tbh. somewhere on my arm definitely but idk where D:

dolphins or koalas? dolphins!!

what’s your spirit animal? a cat?

best gift you’ve ever received? for christmas my sister bought me a cute lil box meant for displaying concert tickets and it was the most thoughtful thing ever. also the AMAZING studio headphones i’m currently using that my mom got me like three years ago for christmas

best gift you’ve given? probably when i bought me and my best friend tickets to see the Sherlock S4 finale in a movie theater 

what’s your favorite board game? cards against humanity, one night ultimate werewolf/alien, settlers of catan

what’s your favorite color? porpleee 💜

least favorite color? hmm they’re all valid except for like. puke green.

diamond or pearls? neither lol

drugstore makeup or designer? neither 😜

blow-dry or air-dry? blow-dry but i never do bc it takes y e a r s

pilates or yoga? yoga!

coffee or tea? both but only hot tea or frozen coffee 

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? thanks to tumblr the word ‘defenestrate’ has entered my vocabulary and I do not regret it

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? either. chocolate is chocolate 🍫

stairs or elevators? tbh stairs, i’m just a lazy bitch

summer or winter? winter. cold > hot

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? i’d still get tired of it :( i need that variety!!

a dessert you don’t like? none. dessert is dessert and it is all valid if i can eat it

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing, working from home, playing the guitar

best thing to happen to you today? currently watching mike gross play old brobecks tunes :’) he also just saw my comment yay

worst thing to happen to you today? i had cheesecake for lunch. sounds good but it’s the only thing i’ve had today besides a piece of chocolate and my body is Not Happy

best compliment you’ve ever received? someone on fanfiction dot net once left me a comment saying they’d almost cried at my story and called me “a true writer” and it’s honestly one of the only thing that keeps me writing...i’m still mad they weren’t signed in so I’ll never be able to thank them for it.

favorite smell? lemon, cookies, fresh-cut grass

hugs or kisses? hugs!!

if you made a documentary, would it be about? somethin gay probably

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? honestly...probably “who the fuck is keith” fjadskljfd

lipstick or lipgloss? like peyton said chapstick is the only valid answer

sweet or savory? depends how i’m feelin, love both

girl crush? besides the obvious one (my girlfriend), honestly not many? there’s this one girl i follow on insta who’s big in the panic! fandom and jESUS SHE’S SO PRETTY. also the girl who plays kaia in supernatural is CUUUTE

how do you know you’re in love? has only happened to me once but for me...i already loved her platonically for months and then suddenly one day i was like oh. why am i getting the urge to kiss you rn. oh no.

a song you can listen to on repeat? anything by idkhow or bastille. never gets old.

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? not to copy peyton but i would love to know what goes on inside my cat’s head

what are you most excited for about this time in your life? next semester of college!! i got into a super-competitive dorm and i’m gonna have my own room and live with nine other people and gahh i’m just so excited to be chaotic with all my friends again and meet new people :’)

[username-echo-is-taken]

Roadtrip~CNCO Headcanon

OMG GUYS THERES 300 OF YOU FOLLOWING ME LIKE WTF IM SHOOK!!!! In celebration of that I decided to finally finish a request I received MONTHSSS ago! But I hope you guys enjoy! I LOVE YOU ALL 🥰❤️

Requested: “headcanon about the guys going on a long drive with them being the driver” by @cedanana 3 MONTHS AGO ASLKGSHFL I’M SOOOO SORRY!!! I started working on this forever ago and welp here we are now, and it’s not even good 🙃and it’s not even what you really asked for sorry bby 😔

Warnings: horrible writing skills LMAO

Author’s Note: this is wayyyyy too long to post as one so I’m posting one half today and the other half tomorrow when I finish it! So sorry for the inconvenience!

Zabdiel: Sightseeing as much of Puerto Rico!-several hours and stops

It’s your first time visiting Puerto Rico and Zabdi is sooo excited for his amor to explore his island with him

Neither of you slept much because y’all stayed up late going over your route plan for the 10th time

He wakes up earlier than you to make breakfast

Brings it to you in bed like the gentleman he is...but you’re two bites in when he starts rushing you out of pure excitement lol

You ask him to pick out your outfit bc 1.) he knows the weather and activities so he can dress you appropriately and 2.) you want him to enjoy EVERY little thing about your trip...he thinks this trip is about you but to you it’s all about him, seeing him so happy and excited makes your heart melt UWU BITCH 😭

Your first stop is to get snacks obvio

He takes you to all the cool spots close to his house to get them out of the way *insert small photo shoot*

The next destination is about an hour away so cue the carpool karaoke!!

Of course he’s singing like an angel on Earth and well let’s just say you were not that impressive YIKES

You got videos of both but only the ones of him are posted so you can keep some of your dignity lol

Zabdi being Zabdi, he randomly pulls over to the side of the road, jumps out of the car, picks a pretty flower, and gives it to you, “una belleza pa’ mi bellisima novia”

YOU LOVE THIS MAN™️

Little do you know that he has been taking secret pictures and videos of you to add to the album on his phone so whenever he has to go away on tour he can always have a piece of his amor

By the end of the trip you are completely IN LOVE with the island, appreciating all of its beauty with the love of your life

When you get back, after you’ve had a shower and are in bed you get a notification that Zabdiel De Jesus has uploaded a picture….you look over at him and he has a tiny smirk on his face and he lets out a giggle bc he uploaded the LEAST flattering picture of you from when you caught him taking a picture so you made an ugly face at him

Butttt don’t worry he also posted nice ones bc he’s nice like that

Joel: Disneyland!-Hesperia to Disneyland-under 2 hours depending on traffic

It’s Christmas time and it’s your first year spending it with Joel and his family (ok but who wouldn’t want to spend it with them?! It looks so fun!)

They all find out you’ve never been to Disney and it’s like a bullet to the chest to them LMAO

Soooo Joey has taken it upon himself to take your Disney virginity lol

He likes to be very organized so of course he made a list of which rides y’all are gonna go on and in what order

He makes sure you’re all asleep at a good time bc he knows how you get if you don’t get enough sleep lol

You two wake up a little earlier to help his mom make sandwiches and snacks for the journey

Since there are so many of y’all going you have to take two cars, his mom driving one and him driving the other

He asks everyone for songs to add to the playlist he created and y’all jam tf out

The music is so loud his mom has his little brother call you and tell y’all to TURN THAT SHIT DOWN cause they can hear it from their car OOPS

When you make it there, barely alive bc Joelito decided to get distracted by some freakin birds...yea...birds... you’re a little worried if his plan will work because it’s PACKED, I mean c’mon what did he expect around Christmas

He knows it too and he has a sad little pout on his cute face making you sad too because who wants to see this baby sad???

He just wants this to be the best first experience

What he doesn’t realize is that you could literally just sit in silence with him and you would be over the moon

You spend the day, holding hands, walking around, riding the rides, just having an amazing time

You’re having sooo much fun you don’t even think about getting some pictures together but don’t worry his brothers and cousins have it handled lmao

Your favorite is a video of you and Joel dancing when he twirls you around and pulls you back into his chest for a hug, and you definitely feel like a princess

During the drive back home, everyone in the back seats are asleep and you whisper to Joel how much fun you had and how much you love and appreciate him for everything

Homeboy wants to cry deadass lol

He holds your hand while he drives and every so often he brings it up to his mouth so he can give it a kiss

When you get home he makes you a hot chocolate and you stay up for a while just talking and enjoying each other’s company before snuggling up to go to sleep

Richard: Universal Resort!-Miami to Orlando-3 ½ hours

This papi wants to take his 2 girls out for a fun weekend, and where can you have fun all day without getting tired..? UNIVERSAL!! (not that I would actually know bc i’ve never actually been LMAO)

The 3 of you are beyond excited, although you might be a bit more excited than Aaliyah, but shhh no one has to know

The night before, you sit in Aaliyah’s room, asking her about certain outfits before putting them in her little ‘going-away-bag’, before tucking her into bed, not noticing that Richard has been watching with a smile on his face, until you hear him walking towards his baby girl to kiss her goodnight OOF

Soft Papi Richard makes you swoon™️

You guys then move to your room to pack your stuff

We all know he would take longer to pack his stuff because “this shirt matches these pants, but so does this one...i’ll take both...but what shoes tho?”

Since you’ve been so excited you already mentally planned your outfits lol and maybeee,just maybe, you bought 2 new swimsuits that you know he would drool over

You’re already in bed by the time Rich is finally done, you’re halfway asleep when he gets into bed so he just kisses your forehead and plays with your hair

In the morning, you get up a few minutes earlier than planned so you can make a few sandwiches and a few other snacks, but you already know they’re gonna be gone within the first hour so a pitstop for food is a must lol

CNCO is playing the entire ride because Aaliyah wants to hear Papa sing, but who are you kidding, you want to hear your angel sing too

When you finally get to Universal you quickly get to your room and leave just as fast as you got there lol

Y’all spend the entire first day going on rides and just walking around admiring all the beautiful things

You and Richard are both half asleep on the way back to the room, and Aaliyah is asleep in his arms

The next morning (almost lunch because y’all wore yourselves out lmao) you have brunch in bed and watch a movie for a while before getting ready to go to the pool!

Let’s just say that your man’s jaw drops real quick, and he most def can’t keep his hands off of you

You spend a few hours at the pool, enjoying the water and the sun before heading back to the room to take a nap before dinner

Y’all were going to a somewhat fancier restaurant so you spent a bit more time doing your hair and makeup before putting on a beautiful dress

You then get Aaliyah into her dress and you do her hair all cute and shit while Richard is finishing getting ready

After dinner comes desert obviously so back to the park you go to find some ice cream!

You quickly but thoroughly enjoy it before heading back to the room to change into comfy clothes for the drive back home

[clevercatchphrase]

2019 year in review

So… The 2010’s are almost over. Huh. What a decade it’s been. Hard to comprehend how much has changed in 10 years. I can barely believe that I was in high school at the beginning of this decade, and now I’m a college graduate with 2 degrees who’s been working at the same job for the last 3 years. But trying to summarize the past 10 years in a single post is a good way to give myself an existential crisis, so let’s not do that! Instead, let’s just focus on 2019 because there has been more than enough shit that’s happened to me in this year to talk about.

PART 1 OF 2: 2019 AND 2020 GOALS AND RESOLUTIONS

Huh, looking back through my archives, I apparently didn’t make a tumblr post about my goals this year. I definitely had some, though. Lemme list ‘em off real quick, and then we’ll go through them point by point.

1)      Pay off all my student loans 2)      Finish some song comics 3)      Make art for my Redbubble account 4)      Finish the first rough draft/script of a game I wanted to make 5)      Practice ASL 6)      Sew some stuffed animals 7)      Finish some fan fictions 8)      Work on Ghost Switch 9)      AMVs 10)   Do some original writing 11)   Make illustrations for my fan fictions

Okay, first off, the student loans. I was actually SO CLOSE to successfully completing this one bUT THEN MY CAR HAD TO BE A WHINEY PISS BABY AND HAVE ITS ALTERNATOR DIE ON ME WHILE I WAS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THEN A BLOW OUT THREE WEEKS LATER.

GOD, if I had to summarize this year in two words, for me it would be “Car troubles”. I swear I spent more on auto repair in the first third of this year than I ever have just freakin’ OWNING a car. All four of my tires had to be replaced, my alternator failed and my car literally just SHUT OFF while I was driving, and I was barely able to coast into a gas station. Both my front breaks and rear breaks were worn down the metal and I only learned this when my car was barely able to stop after I had to slam the petal down full force!  I went in for an oil change, and they found some problems and then I didn’t get my car back for three days! I don’t even like owning a car! I hate driving! I hate my country’s refusal to provide universal, free public transportation! I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!

Oh-kay… number 2. Finish some song comics. I didn’t finish any. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work on them. I have made tiny progress, but that’s certainly better than no progress. One of these song comics I hope to be realizes is going to be a collab with one of my friends. It’ll be a long-time coming as it’s pretty low priority for the both of us, but if anyone else out there was disappointed with KH3’s ending, we’re gonna have ya’ covered… With SONG!

3. Make some redbubble art. I actually did this one! Not in the way I expected, but I added (technically) 3 new designs to my redbubble in the middle of the year. If you like butterflies and dragons, I got some product for you~!

Number 4, finish a script for a game I want to make. I… thought about this. I thought about this a lot, but I never put pen to paper, so… oops. It almost happened! I debated making this my main writing project for NaNoWriMo this year, but ended up having more inspiration for another story. Maybe next year? (god, I hope not. I don’t want to wait a full year just to write something)

Number 5, practice ASL. I just straight up didn’t do this and I only have myself to blame. Still keepin’ up that Danish Duolingo streak, though. 4 years going strong and not a day missed yet.

Number 6, sew some stuffed animals. Again, another one I just straight up didn’t do, but I have an excuse of trying to save money while my car crashed and burned in every other sense except literal this year. Hopefully 2020 will be different. I’ll definitely be able to pay off this last loan within the first half of 2020, and then I can start saving for whatever I want to buy.

Finish some fan fictions was number 7, and I did this! Well, I only finished, 1, but it was a story I’ve been working on for over 3 years, and it came out to over 200 THOUSAND words long, which is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of myself. Now that the big story is out of the way, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of working on Ghost Switch, maybe I can squeeze in some short writing sessions more frequently. (either that, or just wait for my car to break down again and then go on a writing spree in a pepboys. The lord and the fan fic discord know that’s solely why I finished my other fic this year)

Speaking of Ghost Switch, working on it was a goal this year too, and I did that! I kept it up all year and took a vacation in November and it was wonderful. While the major plot points have been in place since before I started drawing, I still need to script each arc beyond Snowdin, but hey, by the time we get there, it’ll be 2022 so I got time. (Note, don’t do this, kids. Script your stories and comics thoroughly before publishing. The road I’m on is paved with misery and pain and it will only end in tears unless I change lanes soon)

Number 9, amvs. Do people make AMVs anymore? Idk… the last one I made was... Jesus, 5 years ago? (it was a gravity falls/fall out boy crossover, if you were curious) I’ve been wanting to do 2 more for just as long, but in order for me to do that, I’d have to spend time re-watching the shows to find the footage, and then actually edit them together, and I just don’t…. feel like it. Maybe someday, but not any day soon.

10; do some original writing. I did this! For nanowrimo! I wrote the first draft of some original fiction I’ve been planning for a year or two now and it completely sucks! But it’s on paper now and I’m happy. Will I revise and edit it? Sure, but not for a while. I want to let it sit and forget about it and look at it with new eyes months from now so I can be sure I can make it better when time comes to rewrite.

11, make illustrations for my fan fics. Now that You Monster is done, I want to go back and add pictures to it. I didn’t do any this year, but I did keep a list of scenes I wanted to draw, so I have plenty of ideas to do as warm up sketches next year~ I kinda want to stream them~

So, that was 11 goals, and I successfully fulfilled 4 of them! That’s! Not a very good ratio… QmQ So, goals for 2020. Some I’m gonna keep from this year, some I’m gonna drop and some I’m gonna add. In short I would like to,

1)      Finish paying off that last student loan 2)      Put more stuff on my redbubble 3)      Illustrate my own fan fics 4)      Sew at least one stuffed animal 5)      Make an enamel pin 6)      Read one new book a month 7)      Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic 8)      Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make 9)      Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch 10)   Boost my patreon

Most of these I think are pretty self-explanitory, but I’ll go into detail just a bit because I’m on a roll and typing my thoughts helps me feel less alone in the middle of the night when you’re super tired and you know you should probably go to sleep, but the toddler in you is throwing a tantrum and doesn’t wanna go to sleep just yet, but you can’t fight the progression of time either way.

Number 1- I should be able to reach this goal by the end of March. End of June at the absolute latest. Once that goal is met, my secret new year’s resolution will be unlocked as well!

Number 2- I want to put more art of my OCs on redbubble. These OCs are tied to the game I want to make. There’s already some art of them up there, but I want at least one piece for each character.

Number 3- Mostly for You Monster. Embrace the cardinal rule of fan fic and apply it to fan art. If you want to read about see art about certain ideas, scenarios, or what-ifs, you gotta make it yourself.

Number 4- I have 3 potential ideas to sew. One is definitely leagues easier than the other two and will probably be chosen if/when I have the time and materials.

Number 5- This year I got really, REALLY into the idea of making enamel pins. Unfortunately it’s a pretty big investment (like, $350 to make 100 pins you  might not even sell). If this happens, it’ll probably be towards the end of the year, and if I get enough interest. I’m currently torn between making an original enamel pin and one based off Undertale. We’ll just have to see where this goes.

Number 6- Back in 2018 when I paid off one of my many student loans, I rewarded myself by spending over 200 dollars in used books. All these books had a theme; they were focused on dragons because I have a problem. I have not yet read a single one of these books I have bought, and I would like to fix that. I have, like, 20 unread dragon books, and even if I only read 12 out of 20, I would consider that an amazing accomplishment and money well spent.

Number 7- I currently have about 8 different WIPs I could work on. (well, I don’t know if I can even call them wips. More like, a general idea and a title written down.) I want to build good writing habits, and if I can write just 200 words a day, hell, even 200 words a week and just one of my 8 stories done, I would consider this goal met.

Number 8- I’m torn between making my game in unity or ren’py. I know jack shit about both. Ren’py is more user friendly, but unity will allow me more customization. (Lol, can you guess what kind of game I want to make yet?)

Number  9- I really just want the full story to be done and written incase anything goes horribly terribly wrong in my life and I find myself unable to continue making ghost switch in comic form. Then at least I can finish the story by other means, you know?

Number 10- It always surprises me every month when I get that patreon email saying I got paid. Sure, I don’t even make double digits on it, but it still awes me enough to know that people out there like my work enough to throw me a tip. I can’t thank my patrons enough for supporting me and I hope to one day be in such a good place I can update my comic/song comics/writing frequently enough without need for goals or milestones. But until that magical day arrives, money is always a great incentive for anything, I suppose. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 ALRIGHT. PART 2 OF 2: SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN 2019

Cheesus crust what a year. This year started off great! Back in late January Kingdom Hearts 3 FINALLY released, and let me tell you a little story. Back in the summer of 2006 I was a 13 year old middle schooler with no way of making money other than by doing house hold chores at a rate of 25 cents a task. A few weeks ago, I had a sleep over at a friend’s house and they let me play this weird game called “Kingdom Hearts” and god, I was instantly hooked on it. That summer, I did over 800 chores, enough to earn myself 200$ and buy myself a playstation 2 (just in time for the ps3 to come out, gg me) The only games I had for the ps2 were KH1, 2, Re:CoM and Okami, and I beat them all… except Okami. Miffed that the PS3 wouldn’t allow for backwards compatibility, little 13-year-old me made a promise. I looked myself in the mirror and said “I will not buy the next playstation console until KH3 comes out, AND BOY that was probably a good choice for me to make with my level of gaming. I’m even less of a casual gamer than the average casual gamer, but I have been waiting 13 years for this piece of closure, and I even told my friends and family that “the day Kingdom Hearts 3 comes out is the day I will buy a playstation 4”. My dad apparently thought this was the funniest shit, because he literally took the day off from work that Friday to drive me on base to get the game and console (he thought it would be less crowded than a regular walmart, I suppose). I paid $400 on a ps4 pro while he bought me the game. Again, I have an impecible sense of timing seeing as the PS5 is now right on the horrizion, but just like before, I’m not buying a new console until the next KH game is released. See you in 2045, sony~. While I was at the gamestop on base, I also picked up Okami HD and The Last Guardian. For all of February and even early March, I took my time playing through KH3. And…! It was the best disappointment I’ve ever played. After a month away from gaming, I started The Last Guardian and finished it in a couple weeks. I love trico and would die for him, but trying to get 100% completion on that game is udder insanity. Okami, HD, however… again after a month break after finishing TLG, I started replaying Okami. I think I had only managed to get about halfway through the game before I just… stopped playing it on my ps2 version. I am currently SO CLOSE to getting a 100% on the ps4 version. In fact, I’ve beaten the game. I only (techinically) need 2 more trophies to be done; 1st, escape the water dragon without being eaten, 2nd, I need to beat that dumb stupid race with Kai, in order to get the last bead on my rosary, as well as the top dog trophy. I hate her so much. I hate this race so much. It’s awful and bad.

Flash forward to December! Earlier this month I was at Barnes and Noble, buying myself a planner for 2020. I exit the store and notice that there’s a gamestop across the street. For shits and giggles I go inside to look at their game selection, and I find KH 1.5 and 2.5. Now, my PS2 died a few years back (it just won’t read my discs anymore, I don’t know why) and I haven’t been able to replay any of my other kingdom hearts games since. If you had seen me the day I finished kingdom hearts 3, after the ending credits rolled, you would have heard me say “Man…. I wish I could play kingdom hearts 2 again”. AND NOW I CAN, ALONG WITH BBS which I had never even played yet, but knew the story of. I’ve restarted playing kh1, and I was so happy to hear that familiar music when I booted the game up for the first time. While at the game stop, I also picked up Rime and Tearaway, two games that had looked interesting to me. At the time of writing, I’ve finished Rime and am 25% done with tearaway. Rime was…. An interesting experience. I learned about it through Jacksepticeye’s channel a couple years back and thought the art style was enticing. For a super casual gamer like me, I found the puzzles just the right level of challenging and exploring was a blast! The music gave me VERY strong Princes Mononoke vibes, but the overall story left something to be desired. Overall I had fun, and enjoyed completing this game to 100%. Now for tearaway. Can I just say this game is super fucking adorable? I know the original was on the ps vita and the gameplay there was arguably more diverse and imaginative, but this game is just so fucking cute I don’t care?? ALSO, this game’s sound track is ABSOLUTELY incredible and I’ve only heard the first fourth of it! Listen to The Orchards, Pig Riding, and Gibbet Hill Pilgrimage for a taste of their wonderful beats and fantastic use of string and woodwinds! God, I’m so excited to get some more games in 2020. I’m proud to say I currently own more ps4 games than I ever did with my ps2 (and now the majority AREN’T Kingdom Hearts titles!), and I’m still hoping to play Journey, The Witness, and Abzu before everything becomes ps5.

What else happened to me this year. Oh, I went to a doctor for, like, the first time in seven years. I also had my blood drawn for the first time ever, and the nurse said the most disturbing thing to me while she did it. Now, whenever I get shots, I refuse to look. I did that here. So she thought it would be appropriate to say to me “Can you feel your blood leaving your body?” Lady… You can clearly see I am uncomfortable with what is happening here. Why, of all the things you could say, did you choose to say that. Unfortunately, while my doctor is nice, she keeps wanting to run tests on me, that I just cannot afford with my current salary, and my monthly insurance is about to go up to 200$ a month, so I’ve cancelled my next appointment with them, and don’t plan to go back until it’s absolutely necessary. Capitalism is fun, guys. Preventative healthcare is for wusses.

I started going to a chiropractor on a monthly basis. Story time- I don’t know when it started, but sometime late last November I began to notice that I had a headache that just... wasn’t... going away? And each day it was starting to get a little worse. It made it hard for me to find a comfortable position to sleep, it made it hard for me to be in bright areas or move fast. So I said to myself “Okay, if this headache persist through the month of december, then something is proooobably wrong and I should go see someone about it. And hoo-boy were thing wrong with me. By the time this January rolled around, I couldn’t even stay on my feet for more than a few hours without it physically hurting to just BREATHE. So I started going to this chain called The Joint (A+ name, I know). THey aksed me “How are you doing?” I said “I’m in pain” and they said “We can help fix that!”. I’ve only been to a chiropractor once before in my life a few years back after my freshmen year of college because I began to notice my hips weren’t able to support me? LIke, I would lie on my back, and I couldn’t push my hips up when my feet were flat on the floor. I also couldn’t climb anything steep, because my legs just couldn’t push me up if my knee had to bend more than 90 degrees when I lifted my leg up. (Turned out both my hips were apparently out of place). This time only one of my hips were out of place (which they fixed. they said one of my legs was an inch “longer” than the other because I had been leaning all my weight on one leg when I stand). But two of my ribs were apparently “Stuck” which was why it was hurting for me to just breathe, and one of my shoulders was missaligned too, causing one of my trap muscles to constantly be streched, which was pulling on my skull, and causing the headache. Anyway, after they popped all my bones back into place, I still felt terrible, but by god, that night was the first time in weeks I was able to sleep without a migrane. A chiropractor can’t magically heal your arthritis, or fibro, but I definately think they have merit to keeping your posture good and helping your body with things like circulation. 10 outa 10, would recomend. It’s all the fun of getting your neck snapped without the dying!

Earlier this month I got together with two of my friends and we baked Christmas cookies. It was a lot of fun, as well as a great learning experience. A member of my family has a gluten allergy, so we used rice flour for most of the cookies. We learned this is a bad idea! The cookies will just fall apart! A few member’s in one of the friend’s family have nut allergies. Other friend and I knew this and were careful to avoid cookie recipes with nuts, bUT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT ALMOND MILK AND ALMOND EXTRACT COUNT AS NUT. IN FACT, ALMOND EXTRACT IS PURE CONCENTRATED NUT JUICE AND WE FELT SO BAD FOR ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY POISONING THE FAMILY.

Earlier this year me and these same friends took a field trip to Hobby Lobby and just dicked around the store for a couple of hours. It was super fun, 11 outa 10, would recommend, a great date idea for your artsy S.O.

Back in May I went to a wedding for the first time in my life. (well, not true, but the first one I could remember) we left at 5am, drove 5 hours to get there, hung out at a zoo and spent the night in a la quinta before the wedding day. I slept on the bathroom floor because my mom was snoring too loud in the main room and keeping me awake, and the rest of the day was just spent me trying to keep myself together because I was pissed off and tired.

Other than all of that, nothing really major happened to me this year. I guess one more thing I’ve tried to do this year is started the process of breaking certain internet addictions so I can use my free time for more personal projects. Seriously, I found myself watching way too much youtube and following blogs that didn’t even make me happy. I had a personal intervention with myself where I sat down and asked myself, “why do you watch these videos and youtubers? Why do you follow these blogs? Do you really enjoy their content? Do you really care? If you stopped watching/following them, would you even notice?” After critically thinking it over, I’ve found myself unfollowing several channels and blogs and suddenly I feel so much happier. I thought I would miss it, but I realized I didn’t really care if I saw their content or not. I wasn’t missing much. And now I feel like I have more time to draw, read and write. If you think you spend too much time consuming and not enough time creating, I suggest you try and de-clutter your internet habits as well. It’s done wonders to un-fuck my headspace.

And… well, that about sums up my year. How are your holidays going? Anything fun, exciting, dramatic happen to you this year? I hope your new year is warm and safe! Good night, everybody!

[queenb-etty]

They already love you - Zabdiel De Jesus

A/N: Hey everyone! Okay so this is for @whippedforcnco‘s 700 followers writing contest. You deserve it honey, you’re amazing!! Also it happens to be my first writing ever and english is not my native language so please take it easy on me. Any kind of feedback and advice is welcomed. Hope you like it!

I used these two prompts to my story:

A top of head kisses // „Oh god, how can you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second”

Summary: Zabdiel finally meets your family which causes him feeling nervous but there’s no reason for it.  Later, his anxious behaviour turns into something very different.

Warnings: cuteness overloading and a little light smut at the end

Word count: 1873

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„I don’t think I’m ready, mi amor” Zabdiel says as he watches himself over and over again in front of the mirror in your bathroom. You two always complete each other: you are the one who’s always panicked and don’t know what to do in certain situations while he’s the chilled type, anything happens he always has a solution cause he makes himself time to think about things and he tries to help you everytime.

His bandmates and most of the fans also know that people can’t really make him lose his cool in 99% of the time no matter what. But today that one percent just win. After 5 months of dating you feel that your relationship is serious enough to take it to another level and your family’s been so curious about him for a long time. Plus, he isn’t that busy these days cause CNCO’s tour has ended.

You’re more than ready for him to meet your close family, after you’ve met his mother in a not so perfectly planned way. But what else could you expect from your boyfriend? You managed to go to their concert in New York cause you didn’t have to work the next few days. The only problem was that Zabdiel forgot to tell you that his mother, Noemi’s coming to the show as well. Don’t even have to say your eyes went wide from the news and you couldn’t even breathe properly. You were angry at him in that moment but he didn’t make a big deal of it as he enunciated each word slowly, chilly and guardedly: „She already loves you, you don’t have to worry about it, baby.” But with this, the pressure was even bigger on you, while he made fun of you being the candyass type, however at the end he comforted you of course. At least he was right, his mother and you got along pretty well from the first few minutes. She was so kind and interested in your life, to be honest you couldn’t have dreamed of a better start with her. Before she left, you also promised her that you’d visit her in Puerto Rico if you’d have time.

But now the tables have turned. This time you are the one who’s completely relaxed and chilled, laughing at Zabdiel who changes his clothes for god knows how many times already, being afraid of your family wouldn’t like him or his fashion choices or anything he does.

„They already love you, you don’t have to worry about it, baby.” you tell him smirking as you lean on the bathroom door and watch him rolling his beautiful brown eyes.

„I know exactly what you’re doing and I’m not laughing” he says offended and starts putting on his black tie. You would never ever think that he can be this elegant for a family meeting but at the same time it melts your heart cause it shows that this is so important to him. He also looks so handsome wearing black skinny jeans with a light grey button up shirt covering up his mildly muscular body and now he puts on the tie. He glances at you across the mirror and his pouting behaviour changes in a second.

„Maybe it’s too much with the tie, huh?” his face is shy and he doesn’t say it directly but he needs your help. With a light smile you walk towards him, standing between the counter and him. First you start to untie the black item and the next thing you do is caress his cheeks softly cause you know it makes him relax.  

„You don’t have to wear these formal clothes, you know. Just dress up as you want. Nothing’s hotter than being yourself!” this time you have to be the hyper and you know you succeed when he starts laughing like a child and lose all of his nervousness.

„Looking hot in front of your family is not my goal. It’s just I really want them to like me. Cause if they don’t, I have no idea what would I do or how our relationship would go” after a heavy sigh you pull him closer by his face and murmur into his lips.

„They will love you from the first look you give them with those warm and loving eyes of yours” and with that you kiss him gently while he snakes his strong arms around you. It’s pretty intimate between you two because of the shared glances. You know this is real and you love each other truly, both of you want this day to go well. In his previous realtionships Zabdiel never got to the point where he met the girl’s family or the girl being introduced to his family so it was special to him, and to you too. He gives you a lot of light kisses on your forehead and a long one on top of your head. These things are always easy for him to do because of the height difference and he knows it always makes you giggle.

   „Flowers, wine, Fifa… Okay, we can go now” Zabdiel says as he walks out of your apartment with the gift bags in his hands. This time he wears a simple white T-shirt with the same jeans earlier and some new Nike sneakers he bought the other day and they make his outfit more colorful. A few days ago you warned him not to buy anything but those words went from one ear to the other cause he „just wanted to give a good first impression to your family”.

On the first day when you met Zabdiel you thought he just wanted to have some fun so you didn’t take him seriously and just countered all his cheeky compliments. After 3 weeks, there came the confession which was he didn’t wanna be just your friend and asked you out to a dinner. You were surprised first because you weren’t awared of his strengthening feelings towards you, but you gave it a try anyway. In fact, it took you a lot of time to trust in Zabdiel and he had to wait quite a long time for you two got intimate but it’s worth it.

Actually, everything’s worth it. You know it as you watch him making your cute grandma laugh with his stories for a million times. He loves fooling around and your granny enjoys jokes so it is an easy way for him. Not to mention your brother. He sympathizes with Zabdi from the moment he sees what’s in the bag he got and they go for a few matches. Of course your brother easily outplays him, cause he plays fifa for years, and now he’s able to triy the newest edition thanks to your boyfriend.

But he has difficult times with your sceptic mother. It’s a much harder situation because of her doubts about Zabdiel’s lifestyle, trustfulness and everything that come with his fame, not to mention the girls topic. First you have to relieve the frosty and awkward atmosphere, but with time he convinces your mother with the love he talks about you, how he treats you and your family. She starts feeling the deep affection and trust you two have for each other and it almost makes her emotional at one point.

After the dinner which is full of happiness and laughter, your grandma persuades you two to stay the night and now your boyfriend watches your childhood photos with awe but you feel a little embarrassed by them especially the one where your face is filled up with chocolate while you’re having a bath. He just hushes you and starts talking about how adorable and beautiful baby you were which makes you smile like an idiot. Later he suggests you to take a shower together but you refuse immediately cause you know exactly where it would lead so you go first and then him. And the next thing you know is you lay in your bed in comfortable silence until Zabdiel begins speaking.

"Hey" he whispers softly in your hair as you lay almost on top of him tracing little patterns on his bare chest. You slowly lift your head up to look at him, a beautiful smile forming on his lips. The lips you love so much.

"They love me… I can’t believe it!" the shy disbelieving look turns into a huge grin and he cannot be happier in the moment. Your face light up too as you adore the man of your dreams in front of you. Maybe he has no idea how much it means to you knowing that your family accepted him, loved him and he was so over the moon about it.

"If they only knew all the things I do to you when we are alone…" his tone goes from sweet to cocky in the twinkling of an eye and you feel your face turning into red from just the thought of it. Of course they know you're not a virgin but they never imagine all those naughty things you two do in the bedroom. Or in the car. Or in a nightclub's bathroom. Or at his bandmates’ houses. Just literally anywhere. Despite the fact that you’re both shy and lowkey with your relationship around people, you always find the perfect way to please each other when you want. Your family met Zabdiel’s cute, nice, respectful and innocent side, but only you know his other, less virginal persona of his. The one where he ties you up to your bed and tease the shit out of you before he fucks you so hard that you can’t walk straight the next morning.

"Oh god, how can you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second" you let out a long and heavy sigh as the dirty thoughts fill your head. Zabdiel smirks at you as he knows he got you in the mood by just that one seductive sentence.

"Talent" he says pompously and hovers over you. "I know you need me now as much as I need you so you should keep quiet if we want your family to love me in the morning still.”

"Make me" and with these two words you evoke the dominant side of him which always turns you on so much. He kisses you with so much passion that you already feel it between your legs. You lead your hands to his hair and grasp his blonde curls lightly which causes him moaning into your mouth. This time he uses his two hands in different ways. One goes down between your thighs where you want him the most and starts pleasuring you. At the same time his other hand covers up your mouth cause he knows how you react when he slips his long fingers inside you.

After you reach your highs and says the heartmelting i love you’s, the silence mixes with your heavy breaths in the sex-filled air. Once you calm down, Zabdiel wraps his arms around you, gives a light kiss into your hair and falls asleep soon. But you already think about how you would hide your bruises the next morning from your family.