#dude there’s so much wrong with me 😂

[rosicheeks]

I'd feel like the luckiest man alive to buy a beautiful girl like yourself a bunch of flowers! What are your favourite kind of flowers?

[713-4th-ward-g]

.

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't ���🏻��♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

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[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought. 

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side. 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self. 

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?” 

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry. 

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.” 

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat. 

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance. 

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home�� type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.” 

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on. 

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.” 

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train. 

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

 But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. 

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort. 

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.” 

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home. 

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself. 

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.”

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building. 

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name. 

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock. 

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?” 

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort. 

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous.  “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look. 

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.” 

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all. 

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly. 

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull. 

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all. 

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.” 

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes. 

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain. 

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted. 

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful.  But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart. 

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched. 

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?” 

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed. 

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed. 

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.” 

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…”  You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.” 

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?” 

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?” 

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded. 

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?” 

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time. 

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority. 

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers. 

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder. 

And then, you were asleep. Completely out. 

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to. 

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?��

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind. 

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again. 

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears. 

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward. 

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you. 

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream. 

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…” 

“Kombucha,” you whispered. 

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.” 

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep. 

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already. 

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

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Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot  @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll l @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi i @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

[luffyvace]

Undertaker wants to Court you! ~(Headcanons)~

Can’t wait for the public school arc who’s with me?!

this dude is so silly 🗿 enjoy some hcs of this ridiculous little man

Undertaker is funny. He uses that to his advantage when courting. Well, it actually depends on what type of humor you have- most of his are usually those jokes that are kinda funny but at the same time your like ‘That’s outta pocket! 🤦‍♀️😑😂’ yk?

he always wants to hear jokes. He asks you randomly and no matter what type he laughs at them. Rude humor? Hilarious! Dad jokes? That one really tickled his fancy! 😂 why did the chicken cross the road?? To get to the other side? 🤣🤣💥

now usually I feel he has a specific sense of humor but with you everything’s just kinda funny. It’s that moment when your with someone who you can laugh at the most unfunniest stuff ever and still be cackling at it anyway 😭💕

he’s always telling them as well. Might I say, at the worst times 😏 you just watched someone run over a stray animal? Oh he’s got a joke for that hear him out- LIKE BRO 😭⁉️

HES THE TYPE OF GUY WHO MAKE YOU LAUGH BEFORE EVEN TELLING YOU THE JOKE BECAUSE YOU KNOW ITS GONNA BE STUPID 👍

Let’s also talk about hiiiis…! weird side! (I’m saying ‘side’ like he’s isn’t always weird..) This is pretty much him just being a creep? Ish? Like that scene where he was in the barrel licking salt…🤨 or how he’s always in coffins (which tbh seems more normal for a grim reaper but still..) either way this dudes’ real weird and he doesn’t tone it down, even around you despite the fact that it may or may not (you decide) push you away

He’s a very mysterious dude, so how ever you met him I guarantee it was eerie and somewhat strange. Therefore you were likely intrigued by him, so when you went on your first date it was, well, very interesting! There’s so many layers to unravel with this guy! Ngl even now you’ve only semi unraveled this incomprehensible man but at the least you do learn more as you get to know him :P

his past is….complicated is an understatement- gimme a new word.

literally no one but him knows his full past all the way up to this very day. Looks like no one has stuck around long enough! Since you will I guess you’ll be the first to figure it out! ;)

now I’ll say this, he won’t sit down and just tell you everything, no. That won’t be any fun! 😄 you’ll have to have the intelligent to sit down and decode it piece by piece with the tidbits of information he gives you randomly. Yes! It’s going to be comical seeing you try and put this whole thing-a-ba-jig together! (^_−)−☆ 🤣

his nonjudgmental yet opinionated personality is scary if you don’t like folk who come off too strong. Or if your sensitive- 😄 he’s a ‘tell-it-like-it-is-and-I-don’t-give-a-ship’ type of guy. Buuuut! If your similar to him in that sense you’ll probably understand him a lot more. Him being nonjudgemental is perfect for peeps of all types so that’s a plus!! 💗

ranting about his fascination with humans during your dates comes with the package! ☝️He just does, it’s always one of his topics, and ngl it’s nothing boring either, he’s got quite a few stories to tell with even more jokes in between, which is sure to make for a lovely date <3 plus at some point all species in black butler experienced being a human, and idk about y’all but the study of human nature, psychology and how the brain works is a very interesting thing for me! I’d definitely be able to keep a conversation like that up for some time, me personally.

He puts up a front of a funny weird guy when there’s more to him if you read between the lines. Which, don’t get me wrong that certainly is a part of the real him, he just makes sure to highlight it so you don’t look at the rest 😃👌

he’s a real creepy fellow..even towards you 😭 (on purpose) and whether he’s trying to court you or not there’s no escaping it- if it starts to push you away he’ll find a way to incorporate laughter into it to make it more appealing, but no, he won’t change his ways 😭

WHY DOESN’T HE WASH HIS HAIRRRR

(yes it’s canon 😞)

you force him to wash his hair 😘💋 pls he needs it. or at least do it with him so it’s more fun. It’ll probably be easier to convince him that way

Time to talk about his work as a grim reaper!!! :3 (retired anyway) if you are reaper you get to follow each other around doing tasks! human? You both go your separate ways to work, whatever that may be. A demon? The same as a human really! Just this time you might have a contract with somebody. Buttttt!! A perk of all three is getting to work in the funeral parlor with him ;3 it’s a good disguise if your a demon/reaper and also some good quality time for you and your reaper 😘 (i mean, I hope you don’t mind morbid stuff cuz he’s a mortician after all 😅)

his little Russian roulette with the phantomhives 🕺 (LOL) no seriously I have no clue what type of relationship he has with them besides the fact that he serves them for the price of top notch laughter 🧑‍🍳💋 but you might! I’d say he’s more willing to let you in then anyone if he’s trying to court you! That obviously means he wants to trust you with his heart! So yeah! You likely know a thing or two—more about Ciel than Vincent but any info will do at this point 😭 it’s a start right? 🤷‍♀️

whenever Ciel comes over you get to witness him or Sebastian try to make undertaker laugh, it’s not like they can kick you out, you work there! Perks 😏 You can pretty much tell the one time Ciel made him laugh himself it was just a whole bunch of tomfoolery 😂 (why did it take so long⁉️😭) Sebastian is also able to make undertaker laugh really hard immediately so I wonder what he does 🤪 guess you’ll get to see! 😋

undertaker opening up to you is a process that requires patience. And don’t be pushy!! I mean this for your sake, by the way. You’ll drive yourself crazy since you’ll never get an answer that’s not riddles or straight up jokes. 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

yeah overall his way of courting is really strange but when it comes to making things official he’s poetically blunt. The type of blunt where you have to process for a second like ‘wait what does that mean- oh. OH-’

Anyway I’m gonna talk about the actual dates now cuz I’ve pretty much just been mentioning the madness that comes with it this entire time :3 and yes as I said that’s a way of courting to him. He’s weird and blunt but doesn’t wanna do things the traditional way. So getting you involved in his antics is his way of saying ‘hey i like ya and I want ya to stick around’. And jokes. HAHAHAH 😂

dates with undertaker normally consists of tea, jokes, human psychology and gossip 🗿 ever since I saw ciel in wonderland I couldn’t get over the fact that undertaker was at a tea party and now I headcanons him to like tea LOLOLOL! I mean I know that’s how the plot goes in the actual slice movie and he was just playing the role of the character but, think about it—don’t it kinda fit???? Like?? Okok Hear me out hear me out- imagine sipping on some tea with Undertaker and gossiping on the latest drama from the underworld, ‘I heard a rare case is happening where blah blah blah *giggle* *giggle* chatter chatter..’ ETC! like idk how to explain it but do you see the vision???

I can also see him doing that dramatic anime thing where they sip they’re drink majestically then say something intelligent sounding (☝️🤓) (about psychology, for him) as the wind blows 😂😂 YK? LOLL even worse if your in a outside background and his eyes shows (cuz the character who never shows they’re eyes always show them when they get serious 🤣)

i love how shameless this guy is

why don’t we know this guys’ real name⁉️ Can’t even give him a nickname because ‘undertaker’ isn’t nickname material!! What am I supposed to call him???? Taker’ ⁉️😭🗿

ENJOY @doudouma HERE’S YOUR SURPRISE~ 🤗

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A  knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

[redsrooftopprincess]

hey so how do you think Mikey’s brothers would deal with him being the first to get a girlfriend and she’s a human one at that. Cuz they clearly never thought any of them would find someone and it’s their baby brother who did the miracle of finding someone? 😂

Hi there! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but you're here so I assume you want my Mikey. Hope this is okay. 😅

Turned Tables

Michaelangelo x gn!Reader

Warnings: Queerphobia

4am and it's last call in The Village.

He's moving swiftly over rooftops, his usual route, a master of speed and momentum, moving through the city like water. He loves it. The rush. The flow. Moving around obstacles like they mean nothing. He is a turtle after all. Water is kind of his jam.

But not tonight. Tonight the heartbeat pounding in his ears has nothing to do with the thrill of movement. Tonight he's wearing his hoodie with the hood up. Tonight they're with him. And if he's spotted, there will be problems.

There have been whispers about suspicious gang movement in the area, and Leo wants to make sure that certain alliances aren't being made. They usually don't come out here. They have designated areas of the city to cover every night. It's smarter to stick to the same areas so that anything out of place will be more noticable. Which means tonight his bros were on his turf, and that scared the shit out of him.

He follows his brothers over storage sheds and HVAC units, keeping an eye out for anything out of place, occasionally glancing down into the streets below, knowing you'll be heading home after the party. Even if he can't say "hi" tonight, it's worth it just to look at you, even if just for a second. You're so damn pretty.

"Hey! Back off, incel!" the shout comes from the street below and he freezes. His brothers manage to get three buildings away before they notice he's missing.

By the time they make it back to the rooftop where he left them behind, he's already put himself, openly, between a group of four drunk bros, and several sparkly queers.

You and your crew had been on your way home from a party. Ironically enough, you'd just been missing your bright-eyed boyfriend, but understood when he said his brother needed the whole team tonight. You knew the score when this whole thing started. Superheroes gotta superhero.

And damn if he doesn't look good doing it.

Hood still up he glares at them, a low growl backing his words, "Wrong neighborhood, my dudes." Mike says evenly.

The look on the drunk bros faces was enough to know they were thinking maybe they'd had too much.

"Fuck it. Not worth it anyway. Fucking queers."

The dude-bros stumble off and Mike turns to face his very relieved friends. "You guys okay?" He says.

"Yes, thank you, papí," says a Drag Queen in red sequins, she walks up and gives him a kiss, leaving red glitter lipstick on his cheek.

"You know I got you, mamí," Mike says brightly, with a wink, making no effort to wipe the lipstick away. At this point they're most likely watching everything from the rooftop, so it didn't matter anymore.

"We missed you at the party," you say with a smile.

His gaze falls on you and his showman smile morphs into something softer. "Hey, Angel."

You look back at your friends.

"Let me guess," says a man wearing gold shorts and matching cuffs/collar, "you'll catch up?"

You grin and they sigh dramatically, teasing you, as they hug Mike goodbye, thanking him and insisting he show up at the next party.

You step forward and grab his mask tails, pulling him down into a kiss. Usually it's enough to melt the tension away. Not tonight. You pull back and look at him curiously before your gaze moves past him and you see black shadows cut out against the light polluted sky. You meet his eyes again and you can see the underlying panic.

"They were gonna to find out eventually," you say, quietly.

He presses his forehead to yours, "I know. I just..." He sighs.

"I know..." You say, touching his face gently. He'd told you about his brothers, and you understand their need for secrecy, you all do. He'd told you if they ever found out, there was a chance they would refuse to let him see you. Keep him from you completely. But there is no way in hell you're letting him go. You'll fight his big bad brothers yourself if you have to. "Go talk to them. Maybe it'll help to know there are people who aren't afraid." You twist the mask's tail around your fingers and tug, pulling him out of his own head, "Do you want me to come with?"

He shakes his head, "I gotta do this alone. Explain some things. But I think you meeting them at this point is unavoidable." he smirks down at you. You've been asking to meet his family. You haven't said anything, but all the sneaking around is starting to get to you.

He's quiet for a few moments, and shifts his weight, stalling. He must be really scared. "Now or never, Sunshine," you say, tugging on his mask tail again. He gives you a nervous smile and kisses you again, sweetly, before walking across the street backwards, just to look at you a little longer.

When he makes it to the alley, he looks at the ladder to the fire escape and sighs. There's a chance this could go well... right?

When he reaches the roof, they're all standing there, staring at him. Mike swallows. "Hey... So yeah, couple things..." He hauls himself over the edge of the building and stands to look up at his eldest brother, arms crossed, waiting. "So... that's Y/N," he says, as if reciting a list, "and those are my friends..." he gestures a bit further, "and -"

"Parties?" Leo's even voice cuts through the air as sharply as the blades on his back.

Mike glances at Donnie and Raph who look at him with a full spectrum of emotion, from betrayal to hope.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Just... A few years."

"Years!?" If Leo had eyebrows, they would have disappeared into his hair... if he also had hair.

"Leo -" Mike tries.

"Years. Parties. For years."

"Leo, if you'd just -"

"People know about us, Mikey. A lot of people. Don't you think that's kind of a big deal? You're putting everyone in danger here. If just one person -"

"Leo they're queer." Mike interrupts solidly. That shut him up. Leo stares at his brother, taken entirely off guard. "If anyone is used to having to hide their and everyone else's identities for fear of literal murder it's them. We protect our people."

"... We?" Raph asks after a moment.

Mikey gives him a look, "I'm a turtle attracted to humans, what would you call it?"

That shut all of them up, and Mike gives them a moment for that paradigm shift.

"Anyway, yeah, I've been doing a quick run through The Village before coming home every night, just to keep an eye on things."

"That's why you've been coming home late? I thought you were just smoking out somewhere." Raph says.

"That's because that's what I wanted you to think," Mike replies. Duh.

"And your friend? How long has that been going on?"

"We're more than friends," Mike shoots back immediately, a fire in his eyes as they meet his eldest brother's. They could come for him, he was used to it. Not you. His brothers eyes widen and they look at each other before landing back on him, "and we've been together for six months, two weeks, and five days," he checks his watch, "Six days. You want the hours, minutes, and seconds or are we done?" He says.

He pushes past Leo, and makes it almost to the edge of the rooftop before hears Donnie speak softly behind him. "... why would you keep this from us?"

Mike sighs, coming to a stop, "Because... I don't know..." He turns around, "I guess I was afraid you'd try and take it away," He looks at Leo almost defiantly. Raph smirks, kinda proud. "Or maybe... that they'd like you more than me." He looks down at you with a sigh, having rejoined your friends. You're laughing. It's his favorite sound in the universe.

Turning around, you catch him watching over you like a guardian angel turtle. You proceed to blow several kisses his way using each hand, before making a heart with them and spinning back around. The last six months have been the best of your life.

Mike can't help but smile, his brothers look on in awe as Michaelangelo's more-than-friend skips on down the sidewalk.

"Look," Mike says, his eyes returning to his brothers, "I'm safe. You're safe. They're safe." He assures, gesturing in each direction in turn, "We're a pretty tight group, and there's a protocol," he looks at Leo pointedly again, "that we follow with new people before anyone even learns I exist. I've saved the sequined ass of just about everybody in this neighborhood. They know me here. We're safe here... ish, obviously."

They're all speechless.

"I don't like this, Mikey." Leo says after a moment.

"You don't have to like it, you just have to accept it," Mike says without any question in his voice.

Leo sighs rubbing his forehead, "Well, at this point I suppose it's too late for damage control." He looks back at Mike, proud and resolute. This Michaelangelo has only made a handful of appearances in their lives, but Leo knew what it meant. He wasn't backing down. This decision had been carefully thought out and every angle considered before it was made. Mikey may play the fool, but he's far from it. A gifted strategist and the best of them at thinking on his feet, if he says it's safe, it is.

Leo sighs again, "Okay," he says, and Mikey can finally breathe again, "but we all need to be in on these protocols, and Don should look over security."

.....

He's just gotten back from his nightly run, and came home smelling like strawberry daiquiris and you... He may have stopped for a minute.

He's just stripping off his gear to hit the shower when Raph appears in his doorway, knocking softly. "Uh hey," he starts, uncomfortable, "You got a sec?"

Mikey tosses one of his hand wraps into the basket in the corner and starts unraveling the other one, a small burst of glitter explodes into the air with the first layer of cloth. Mike snorts and swats it out of the air. "Sure, bro. Sup?"

"I just..." He struggles, looking at the floor, trying to find the words. He's embarrassed he even wants to ask, but he has to know. There's a chance now... A real chance at meeting real people... maybe... maybe even a chance at... "What's it like?" He asks, looking up at Mikey.

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific," his other hand wrap joins the first.

"Yeah. No. Stupid. Sorry," he laughs nervously, shaking his head and looking at the floor. His hands are actually shaking, he clenches them into fists.

"You okay, bro?" Mike asks, changing tone and pausing to look at his older brother, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assures, "I, uh..." He sighs and takes a deep breath, psyching himself up. "What's it like... being with someone who isn't scared of you...? Who actually wants you there?" He can't even say the word. He feels stupid for needing to know this damn badly, but he needs to know that it's real. Possible.

A slow smile blooms on Mike's face, his biggest brother would the one to ask. When they played as kids, he's the one that used to ride off into the sunset with the girl. White (well, green) Knight was his default, and a lot of where the anger in him came from as a kid. He had no choice but to live his life watching the world get their happy ever afters, until he died, alone, at the end of a blade. Michaelangelo sees something in Raph's eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. It's faint, and swimming in doubt, but definitely there: Hope.

He takes a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, "Well... It's kinda like..." He pauses, thinking, "Do you remember that old rusted pipe we used to skate on when we were kids?"

"The one that almost killed us? Yeah."

Twelve years old and Donnie had just souped up Mike's board and Raph's skates with some "prototypes." They were supposed to stick to the tunnels near the lair to test them out, but the second they stepped out, Mike made a beeline for the pipe.

The prototypes worked well. Too well. The speed and weight were too much for the rusted metal and it crumbled beneath them, sending them careening down a series of pipes and tunnels with no idea where they were going to end up, or what state they'd be in when they got there.

They skated as best they could, trying to stay on their feet, or even their shells, but everything was moving too fast and there were too many twists and turns. They couldn't keep track of where they were or where they were going, at one point some unidentified substances were involved, and at times it felt as though they would break apart.

When they finally emerged, battered and bruised in an unfamiliar tunnel a little over a mile away, they just sat there for several long moments, stunned.

When they finally met each other's eyes... they lost it. Laughing hysterically with tears streaming down their faces, they could barely feel the sting of cuts or the ache of bruises.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, and at more than one point they thought they were for sure going to die. It had been the most incredible experience of their young lives. They promised only ever to do that once (it 100% should have killed them), but both of them remember, to this day, exactly where that pipe is, just in case they ever want another go.

"It's like that," Mike says, tossing his belt in the corner and walking past Raph to grab a shower.

...

The next evening, before patrol, he receives a visit from a rather concerned looking Donatello. He doesn't bother knocking, but walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

Don spins around to look at him, and raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm concerned."

Michaelangelo looks up once he's finished pulling up his shorts. "Okay...?"

"Have you and Y/N had sex? Of any kind, I mean."

"Dude."

"I'm serious," and he meant it. He was wearing his serious face. "Any exchange of fluids beyond kissing?"

Mikey looks at him, Donnie is really, actually worried, and now so is he, "Yeah... why?"

"How often?"

"Dude."

"At least... tell me your wore protection."

"I'm not exactly worried about them getting pregnant, so no."

"Are you worried about them getting regular injections of your DNA?"

This made Mikey pause, why would he... Oh, Gods... He looks up at Donnie, eyes wide and terrified. "Shit, I didn't even think..." He sits down on his pillow pile, thoroughly rocked. His hands cover his face as the possibilities overwhelm him. Mike looks up at his brother with pleading eyes, "are they gonna be okay...? They're gonna be okay, right?"

"I don't know... but I'm going to need a few hair follicles for testing."

"Done," he says quickly, snatching a small baggie from his nightstand and shoving it in his pocket.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I really am a fucking idiot.

Michaelangelo throws on his gear as fast as he can, booking it out of the lair.

He's back in less that 45 minutes

The next few hours are spent with him panic pacing, while Donnie is running tests. Finally, he straightens from over the microscope, one last visual check to confirm what his readouts were saying, and Mike stops, waiting for whatever news comes next.

"Nothing, they're clean. No mutagen detected." Don turns to smile at his brother.

"Fuck, me..." He sighs heavily, breathing hard. The rush of relief makes Michaelangelo so dizzy he has to reach out and catch himself on the wall. Even so, this is definitely something the two of you need to talk about, just in case.

"I'll want to check in periodically, just to make sure it stays that way, but things should be safe enough for now." He pauses and looks uncomfortable for a moment. Emotions are tough for Donnie. They've never made much sense to him, especially when expressing them to others. He knows what they feel like inside his head, but he's never been entirely sure what to do with them. Like he was never given the manual. Even so, he knows that this is important. "Hey, so, um... the probability of something like this happening... one of us actually finding someone, is... Astronomical... Now it’s... slightly less so," he says, thoughtfully, with a soft smile, "so thanks for that."

.....

The eldest of his brothers finally shows up after almost four days. He stands in the open doorway, chagrined, and knocks on the frame.

"Hey, Mike." Leonardo says, taking a few steps into the room.

Michaelangelo looks up from what he's doing and stands, expecting another argument against all of this. He's ready.

"I'd like to apologize."

Okay, he wasn't ready for that.

"I was caught off-guard, and I reacted poorly," he says, "I was worried. I still am. This whole… thing scares the hell out of me. It means there are more pieces on the board, more people to keep safe."

Leo sighs, "It also means that maybe... there can be something more than… this. And I... I don't know if it's worth it yet, the risk, to us or them. I wish I did. This is new... territory for me. I'm used to understanding how things are supposed to work, at least when it comes to us, but this..."

"Hey," Mike says, interrupting Leo's word vomit. Leo tended to keep things pretty close to the vest, even among the five of them, so it didn't happen often, but big things. Important things. Emotional things, could send him spinning out until someone stops him, or he tornados himself into a panic attack.

Leo takes a deep breath, as Mike grins, "How 'bout you let me teach you a couple things, for once."

He smiles back at his youngest brother, chuckling nervously, "Thanks. I would actually really appreciate that." Leo steps further into the room now that things seem settled between them, and pulls a pillow from the pile to sit on, settling in. He dismissed his brothers explanations earlier, he owed it to him to listen now. "So... what are they like?'"

Michaelangelo spends a good amount of time telling him about you, his friends, and how this whole thing got started. By the end, Leo isn't exactly more comfortable about the situation, but he sees the potential, and despite himself, he's just a little excited.

.....

At this point he's pretty sure his brothers are cool with everything. Less cool in one particular case, but he's working on Leo. Michaelangelo's father, however, is an entirely different story.

Leo had told him that morning, after they'd gotten back, and for two days he remained in silent meditation. By the time he emerged on day three, Michaelangelo was afraid to even be in the same room as him.

He knows this is a big deal. He knows his dad has been meditating on his own feelings on the matter and the best way to approach them with his youngest, and this could either go really, really well, or blow up in his face, but if there's one thing he knows about the old rat... he can't be avoided. Not forever.

The fated knock comes on day five.

"Hey," Leo says, "dad wants to talk to you."

Mike takes a deep breath and heads down to his father's room.

"Have a seat, Michaelangelo," he says, gesturing to the empty cushion across from him. There is a low table before him with a chipped pot and two steaming cups of tea.

Mike walks into the room. He doesn't seem mad, but that doesn't mean anything. His dad is great at playing it cool. He sits across from Splinter, nervously.

His father asks for the whole story, and listens patiently as Mikey tells him everything. How saving a drag queen one night led to his being accepted and wanted by a whole group of people. Friends that have helped him in more ways than he can count. Definitely more ways than he could ever help them. And you. He tells his dad about you. How amazing you are, how kind and patient, and something he hasn't even told you yet: just how stupid in love with you he really is.

It takes hours.

When Mikey is finished, His father is quiet for a long time, processing everything. He'd received some of the story from Leonardo, and was fitting the new information into the appropriate places, while carefully considering the situation. Mike tries not to panic.

"I'm proud of you, Michaelangelo," he says, finally. Mike's head shoots up from staring into his tea cup to meet his father's eyes.

Okay, what?

"Not only have you done all things possible to ensure the care and safety of both your new friends and our family, but you had the courage to look for something beyond what we know to be safe. You had the courage to try. All that done on your own. And while next time," his father gives him a look, "something like this comes up, I would much rather you come to me first," he pauses to ensure the message sinks in, "I understand why you did not, and you have my deepest apologies for that." The old master bows his head, penitently, across the table.

A half-laugh escapes Mikey, tears of relief stinging his eyes. He was ready to fight for you. In fact, since this whole thing started he's basically been thinking about nothing but what the hell he's going to tell his dad. The last five nights, he's held you a little tighter, a little longer. Not to say goodbye, he'd walk away from them if he had to, if they made him choose. You're too important. But he didn't want to, and now he doesn't have to, and sweet relief pours, fizzing, through his veins

"Really?" Mike asks softly, it wasn't often he got rewarded for disobeying orders, especially when the reward was something this big. You. Holy shit they were letting him keep you. He wipes at his eyes as his father smiles, "I uh... thanks Dad." He says, unsure whether he's laughing or crying.

"I feel as though a new chapter of our lives is beginning, thanks to you," his smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes, "and I look forward to seeing where the tale will take us."

.....

The next morning, Leo, Don, and Raph are sitting around the kitchen table after patrol, when Mike storms in with a purpose.

He slaps a neon green paper down in the middle of the table for the three of them. It's a flyer for a party, happening at Mike's usual spot, tomorrow night.

They look at the flyer, and then each other, before their gazes turn to their father, standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of tea. Four adult turtles, nearly pushing 30, silently begging their dad for permission.

There is a subtle smile under his whiskers as he takes a sip of his tea, "Be back before sunrise," he says, and his smile widens as he sees his children light up with the promise of a new adventure.

They'll panic later, when the reality sets in that they are about to meet a large group of people and they have no idea what they're doing (Leo may already be screaming internally), but for now they're excited, and looking forward to tomorrow.

....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[rabbitsrants]

SHINICHI KUDO IS TOO MUCH

guys, i'm currently working on the "reasons why shinran is one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time" masterlist and i came across this part of the manga:

chapter 44

AND I AM LAUGHING MY ASS OFF

shinichi is absolutely RUTHLESS in this chapter. correct me if i'm wrong, but this has to be his angriest moment throughout the entire series? i don't remember him acting this way in any other chapter 😂 like... shinichi is the type of guy who saves murderers from suicide, it's a well known fact that he values human life more than anything, HE'S A DEEPLY IDEALISTIC PERSON, YALL, THAT'S THE MAIN TRAIT THAT DEFINES HIM AS A PERSON and he straight up tells this dude (whos about to slit his own throat btw) TO GO AHEAD AND KILL HIMSELF

this is the most unhinged i've ever seen him 😂

now, let me be serious for a second. obviously, shinichi strongly suspected that the culprit wouldnt go through with it - he spent the entire case trying to cover up his murder after all, that's not something a suicidal person does. still though. the fact that shinichi was willing to risk it says so much about his love for ran. cause that's what his rant is about. the culprit tried to kill ran on multiple occasions and almost succeeded a couple of times. if there's one thing that shinichi can not handle, it's ran being in danger. he'll lose his composure every single time and he will lash out, even at innocent people who are just trying to help:

chapter 640

this man is so devoted to ran, it hurts.

that's why im so shocked everytime the fandom implies that ran is an irrelevant character who doesnt contribute anything to the story. if (for whatever reason) ran stopped being in the picture, the story would end right then and there.

people seem to forget that shinichi has prioritized ran over cases on numerous occasions (that aspect of their relationship deserves its own post tbh, i'll hopefully get to it in the future), he completely loses his mind everytime there's even the slightest risk that she might get hurt and this case right here? chapter 44? that's the wildest shit shinichi has ever said 😂 the part about justice was spot on and very in character for him, but the rest? it was brutal... and very unlike him. which is shocking, considering that ran was completely unharmed. do me a favor and let that sink in: the end of chapter 44 was merely his reaction to the thought of losing ran - he completely lost his shit. now, if ran actually stopped being in his life? shinichi wouldn't just lose his temper, he'd lose himself.

for the record, this isnt me implying that he would go rogue or whatever. the reason why shinichi is so angry in chapter 44 is because ran is okay and tangible, so he still has something to lose. but if she was gone? if she stopped being his life? he wouldn't be angry, he'd be inconsolable. if the level of anger displayed in chapter 44 and 640 is what we get when shinichi simply worries about ran's safety, just imagine the level of heartbreak that we would witness if he genuinely lost her.

shinichi loves and needs ran so much, it's unfathomable for most people, including me. everytime i think i cracked the case and finally figured out how much shinichi loves ran, he proves me wrong. and while i think that most cold cases are a tragedy, i think im coming to terms with leaving this one unresolved. after all, love is the most mysterious force in the universe. and always will be.

visit the shinran library for more

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Please if you have any good opinions on Turgon let me know because I currently can’t stand the guy and I do want to at least somewhat like him.

Edit: Sorry sorry! 1/3, not 2/3. I’ve corrected the post.

But anyway, can we talk about Turgon taking 1/3 of the Noldor to Gondolin.

Like I can find it in me to like or at least understand pretty much every Finwëan. But Turgon? That guy makes me furious. As do the Noldor who decided to follow him. Literally what was the point of coming to Beleriand if they were just going to hide away. They literally abandoned everyone to Morgoth.

‘But Ulmo told him to!’

Ok fine. I get it. Turgon (and Finrod) were still somewhat faithful and wanted to follow through. But to take that many people with you? To let so many people come with you, knowing your brother and father aren’t gonna know where you are and if anything suddenly goes wrong, you’re not gonna make it in time and its goodbye remaining family.

(Also imo the Valar have an admittedly not malicious, but bad habit of choosing those they think are the smartest, strongest, etc, and taking them away from the rest of their people, leaving the rest to suffer. Making small temporary paradises that statistically can’t last forever. I’m counting Numenor here. But that’s beside the point.)

Anyway I am fully of the opinion that if Turgon’s not so little sect had decided to stay and actually take part, the Bragollach would have gone very differently, leading to a potential victory in the Nirnaeth, despite the betrayals. The entire battle plan would’ve been different.

Like think about it right. 2/3 of the Noldor left fighting in Beleriand. Those are cut down pretty badly in the Bragollach to the point I’d say a good 50% of the Noldor now reside in Gondolin. That’s the force they have to make a fight plan for the Nirnaeth. Turgon did turn up but like. Do you get what I mean? When you have that many more fighters, the entire plan could’ve been changed, but I’m getting too far ahead. Let’s go back to the Bragollach.

I have this thing talking about Fingolfin’s last, desperate attempt at Morgoth. If his son, daughter, and granddaughter, and a large bulk of his people had been there to help, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have gone. Wouldn’t have felt the need to go. Aegnor and Angrod might not have been killed. The Feanorions would have been displaced still, but been able to reclaim some of their lands with more elves to fight back.

Because say what you will, they successfully coordinated a 400 year long siege on Angband with Fingolfin and co, and that’s a two way deal. They can clearly band together to take on a larger enemy. As you know, I’m also of the opinion Fingolfin genuinely loved his nephews even if he didn’t get along with their father.

You might be wondering ‘but what about Aredhel.’ I have generally mixed opinions, but don’t actively dislike her. The main thing is idk how many people followed her specifically, but I don’t think it was that many.

That said I do feel really bad for Fingon who’d lost Argon over the ice and now his remaining little siblings were gone who knows where, somewhere he couldn’t even help them if they needed it. I’m sorry you don’t just abandon siblings like that, especially in a situation which always has the potential to go suddenly wrong (as we see with the Bragollach.) This coming from a little sibling btw, maybe that’s why I have such strong feelings on this 😂

But I’ll make a Fingon specific post another time.

AS I SAID, please please if you have saving opinions on Turgon comment so I can like this dude. I haven’t read the Fall of Gondolin and generally don’t know a bunch about him, but our vibes ain’t vibing rn 💀

[miumura]

LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU

SYNOPSIS : BREAKING NEWS! Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and yet, you still don’t have a partner. This year was most likely to be just another one of being single, so you’re not thinking much of it. But what if your favorite gossip account proves you wrong, revealing that an anonymous admirer likes you? And what if that admirer turns out to be Yang Jungwon—one of your crushes? Will you believe it’s just a rumor, or think it could be actual love news?

PAIRING : classmate!jungwon x fem!reader

GENRE : smau, fluff, crack, classmates to lovers

FEATURING : all enhypen members; hanni — new jeans; yunjin — le sserafim; rei — ive; soul — p1harmony; sunwoo — the boyz (occasional mentions of other idols)

WARNINGS : swearing, use of kys + kms jokes, some lovey dovey action (some warnings will be mentioned on top of the chapters if any)

NOTE : this is all FICTION! this has nothing to do with any idols irl! + reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated so i can improve later on 🤍

AUTHORS NOTE : another jungwon smau yay!! heres a smau i thought of while i was procrastinating my other smaus.. anyways im really excited for this one so i hope you guys are too as well <3

STATUS : completed ! (DEC 24 2022 - MAR 4 2023)

LOVED LOVE NEWS? CHECK OUT LOVE ERROR, THE SECOND SMAU !

PROFILES . . !

gossip baes [yn] | love news club [jungwon]

LATEST NEWS . . ! (chapters)

article one - whats new?

article two - what if i press this silly “tweet” button 🤣

article three - SOMEONE LIKES YN??

— bonus : kim sunwoo im keeping my eyes on you fr.

article four - the dm

article five - niki scamming time

— bonus : nikis scamming (gone wrong)

article six - who? crush #45?

article seven - eye contact (written + smau)

article eight - SOUL PSYCHIC

article nine - THE BATHROOM DOOR

article ten - why she kinda

article eleven - who tf is he 😧

article twelve - idk…piss on it 🤔

article thirteen - okay what if…

article fourteen - niki DUPE

article fifteen - WON VICE PRES???

— bonus (1) : prez datez (real?!)

— bonus (2) : MF PARK SUNGHOON??

article sixteen - dude hes flirting 😂

article seventeen - overthinking ..

article eighteen - LET ME IN

article nineteen - feeling evil (written + smau)

article twenty - getting on my nerves

— bonus : her love news era 😍‼️

article twenty-one - cackles evilly

article twenty-two - just a silly move

article twenty-three - megamind 😱

article twenty-four - yn 2.0??

article twenty-five - twirls hair

article twenty-six - be mine?

article twenty-seven - confirmed <3

ENHA PERM TAGLIST OPENED !

@son4taa @luvhooniez @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @luveuly @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck

PERM TAGLIST . .

@ahnneyong @hanienie

WAITING FOR MORE UPDATES? JOIN NOW!

TAGLIST . . 💗 CLOSED 💗

bolded = can’t tag </3

@invusblog @wonvnz @xiaoderrrr @flowers4thalia @nyuukei @curly-fr13s @itsactuallylina @risseei @0310lvr @viagumi @luvdokja @sickvision @wanna-live-yn-life @rionah @dreamenvi @rinnqx @0i8ma @ksnu @sunoksunny @aki1e @adajoemaya @naddii @yourfavjwstan @meeznoi @neozon3nha @wonyoungsvirus @rionah @nokacchan @luvkait @kyanmeai @sserafimez @wonieleles @beomsbeanie @yabukkura @shynypeacekitten @en-minniesode @seungily @captivq @georgi-salva @nayuzaa @jjulliette

[rosicheeks]

Why do you reply to everything in the tags? Just curious. You do you. Just wondering what your reasoning is

😂

[tototalks]

Okay, I must apologise for the frequency and length of these posts, but SO 👏 MUCH 👏 IS 👏 HAPPENING 👏

These chapters have been such a ride 😂

- Big up Jord and Aimeric finally getting to do the horizontal tango… and Damen finally getting to interrupt the horizontal tango!!

- I am nothing if not a slut for wacky hijnks and tomfoolery, and am therefore loving this whole Metal Gear Solid mission. 😁

- A great amount of respect has to be given in recognition of the sheer WILLPOWER demonstrated in these chapters, because if I saw Mr. tall, dark and handsome rip bars off a window with his bare hands I’d wanna climb him like a tree too - Laurent you are a saint. 🫡

- OMG NICAISE’S EARRING! - Got to love Laurent playing the part, looking like a SNACC, and suddenly Damen is like “Y’know what, what’s a flogging? Didn’t even feel it. Pain? Don’t know her.”

- “He’s expensive” DAMEN YOU BITCH 😂

- Imagine being in the weirdest situationship ever while hand feeding the man who half beat you to death some gentrified artisan sourdough or some shit as he makes himself comfy on your crappy floor bed. Damen is honestly God’s strongest and most confused soldier. The enemies to lovers reaaaaally starting to kick in.

- “Pretty face and devious mind isn’t your type.” Captive Prince is a comedy actually.

- Honestly, haven’t met Jokaste yet, but immediately I cannot hate her as of right now. I support women’s rights, and more importantly, their wrongs associated with wanting power over people who don’t deserve it.

- I love the conversation they have by the fire, with Laurent admitting that Damen is a strong man. Such a great natural progression towards respecting each other as people before moving onto anything more. BIG FAN 🥺

- Idk how I’d feel if I was hiding on a balcony and heard the soldiers looking for me going “This isn’t our guy, this dude fucks.” 💀

- Charls’ horse earns MVP for lugging around Damen’s heavy ass cross country. Your sacrifice is noted lil guy. 😔✊

- Aight. I smell a fuckin rat in this camp and I currently live in fear of who it might be 😫

[robinbuckleysfringe]

you are in love.

tom blyth social media au

pairings: tom blyth x reader

warnings: accused cheating

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged rachelzegler & tomblyth

liked by joshandresrivera, tomblyth, hunterschafer, rachelzegler and others

yninstagram as promised, here's some more bts pics for tbosas. massive thanks to suzanne collins for letting me be apart of your universe 💚

View comments

rachelzegler not that photo of me 😭

↪️ yninstagram sorry babes 🫶🏻🫶🏻. forgive me?

↪️ rachelzegler always 🫶🏻🫶🏻❤️

tomblyth did me dirty with that photo when I know you took hundreds of nicer ones

↪️ yninstagram sorry not sorry, just giving the fans what they want 😘

hunterschafer it was so lovely to finally be in a project together ❤️

↪️ yninstagram here's to hoping there's more 🥂❤️

user is that y/n with tom in the 2nd pic?? they look awfully close

↪️ user back off and leave the cheating rumours alone. y/n confirmed that they were only friends during filming

↪️ user exactly!! leave them alone!! plus, they were probably just going over the script or something. it's not your business dude.

user these photos are everything

user everyone say thank you to y/n for listening to the fans and giving us more bts pics

user y/n stoppp, I can't fall in love with snow again

user can't decide if tom's hotter with blonde hair or brown

↪️ yninstagram I've been asking myself the same thing

↪️ user 😂 she's one of us!!!!

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged robertdowneyjr, sebastianstan, chrisevans, gwynethpaltrow, anthonymackie & marvelstudios

liked by zendaya, tomholland2013, jacobelordi, tomblyth and others

yninstagram happy 10 year anniversary to my marvel debut (and also CATWS). huge thanks to @/robertdowneyjr for being the best onscreen dad, let's be in another project together soon pls ❤️

View comments

rachelzegler omg forgot that you were in the mcu!! iconic behaviour

↪️ yninstagram little me was really living the dream!!

tomblyth can't wait to see what the future of the mcu holds in store for you ❤️

↪️ yninstagram love you tom ❤️

↪️ user omg confirmed y/n return to the mcu??

↪️ user I hope so!! missed her character so much!!

zendaya happy 10 years to my favourite marvel character

↪️ tomholland2013 hey, what about me? :((

↪️ zendaya I said what I said 🤷🏻‍♀️

↪️ tomholland2013 no, but for real @/yninstagram, congrats on making it a whole decade in the mcu. it's awesome to be able to share a screen with you xx

↪️ yninstagram aww, thanks guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻. let's meet up next time I'm in town 💕💕

jacobelordi you used to be so cute. what happened? 😂

↪️ yninstagram shut up (said with love 🫶🏻)

user are you coming back to the mcu??

↪️ yninstagram you'll have to ask the marvel execs, sorry lovely. I wish I knew x

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted to her story*

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged tomblyth

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, tomblyth, joshandresrivera and others

yninstagram award show season was a blast 🥂💜

View comments

tomblyth stunning 😍😘

↪️ yninstagram no, you 😘x

rachelzegler obsessed with you 😍😍😍

↪️ yninstagram I expect nothing less 🫶🏻🫶🏻❤️❤️

joshandresrivera I wanna know what was said to make you pull that face in the 3rd photo

↪️ yninstagram probably someone bringing up that once again I wasn't nominated smh 😤

user mother is mothering 😍😍😍

user you were snubbed. you should've been nominated 😤

↪️ user for real!!!

↪️ user she defo deserves an award, but I don't think any of her projects last year (other than tbosas) was really award worthy. don't get me wrong, they were brilliant. but they weren't on the same level as the stuff that was nominated

↪️ user 100%

user you just know she's so fun to hang out with

↪️ user for real!! she emits such friendly energy

user what's the new project??

↪️ user wdym??

↪️ user she posted a story the other day with the caption "new project pending"

↪️ user it's probably stranger things season 5 tbh

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged greysabc

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler, camillaluddington, jessicacapshaw, caterinascorsone, taylorswift and others

yninstagram shoutout to the stars (and my schedule) for aligning and allowing me to make my greys anatomy debut. thank you @/shondarhimes for letting me step through the doors of Grey Sloane Memorial hospital 💙

View comments

tomblyth super proud of you ❤️❤️

↪️ yninstagram ❤️❤️

camillaluddington welcome to the family ❤️

↪️ yninstagram thanks for letting me join ❤️

rachelzegler watching you get your dream roles is the best thing in the world 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻. endlessly proud of you bby 💕💕💕

↪️ yninstagram stoppp, you're making me cry 😭💕💕

hunterschafer we better be having a watch party at your house

↪️ yninstagram of course!! ❤️

joshandresrivera iconic

taylorswift big fan of this news!! congrats lovely ❤️

↪️ yninstagram love you!!! ❤️❤️

jacobelordi how the hell did you manage to keep this a secret??

↪️ yninstagram it was a real struggle

zendaya insanely proud of you!! 💕

↪️ yninstagram 😘

user I hope you're in it for at least more than one episode

↪️ user same, tho I doubt she'll become a series regular

user omg!!!

user congrats!!!

user yes yes yes!!!

user ooh, who are you playing??

user this is so cool!!! love greys anatomy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

parts 5 and 6 will probably be the last parts to this social media au, unless there's anything you guys want me to write for this series

[scarletwinterxx]

start of something new - jaemin scenario

so.... i still can't believe he sent this on bbl😂 my whole tl was in chaos and now we're here

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

"Hey come look, do you think I should send this?" Jaemin taps his phone on your back, calling your attention.

You didn't even think twice before looking over at what he's showing, but it's Jaemin. You'd be a fool to expect anything normal from him.

"What the fuck, Jaem. Why would you show me that?"

"Why not?" he asks back

"I'd rather not know what you're sending to your latest conquests, thank you very much" you mumble, going back to what you were doing but failing to focus.

Only a fool would not notice the change in Jaemin's physique. He changed from being this lanky quiet guy to his sexy muscular mysterious dude.

Damn Na Jaemin and his sexiness.

But it's Na Jaemin, the very same Jaemin you've been friends with for forever. Sexy would be the last thing you'd call him.

"But I trust your opinion, of course I'd ask you. Isn't that what friends are for?"

You're seriously three seconds away from smacking him on the head, turning to look straight at him again. "Exactly, we're friends. Everyone already thinks we're sleeping together" you mumbled

He hears you though, turning his phone off to give his full attention to you. It's true he heard the rumors going around the two of you, even though he's seen in public with other girl or girls. A lot of your acquaintances still thinks something is going on between the two of you.

And he may or may have not also said you're the prettiest girl on campus. It happened during a party and Haechan asked the question to which he answered with your name loud and clear without even missing a beat. You didn't know about it until now, he'd probably never tell you because he's too scared to ruin what you have.

Does he think about kissing you? yes. Maybe once or twice, but that's still too many times to think about kissing your bestfriend than normal.

"Earth to Jaemin" you wave a hand infront of his face

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" he asks, crossing his arms. He didn't miss the way your eyes look at his arms for a quick second, smirking but quickly hiding it.

"What?"

"That people think we're sleeping together"

You choked on air, hitting your chest a few times while trying to process what he said. The words sleeping and together is not something you envisioned ever talking to Jaemin about.

"I- uh- like- the fuck am I suppose to answer to that?"

"Yes or no, I can tell them to stop if it's making you uncomfortable" he tells you

"And if I say no, what would that even mean?

He raises a brow at you, chuckling at your flustered state. "Alright, I'll stop now" he laughs, earning a hit on the arm from you.

"I hate you" you grumbled, throwing the closest thing to you which was a cat plushie he gave you.

From that moment on something changed. At first you thought it was just Jaemin being Jaemin but he's been more touchy with you. Of course he's still very respectful, but he would always have a hand on your back when you're in crowded places. Like that time you attended an event on campus, he was standing right behind you the entire time. At some point you felt his hands rest on your waist, choosing not to say anything about it.

You also noticed he's on his phone less, and if he is he's just talking to Jeno or Renun or texting you really. You haven't heard any new news about his latest conquest.

"Okay, something's wrong and you're not telling me" you told him

Currently, the two of you are in his room hanging out.

"What do you mean?" he asks, "You, something's wrong. Are you sick?" you ask back, putting your hand on his forehead

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you're not being very Jaemin right now, I haven't heard you speak about any other girl for weeks. Just last Friday night during the party you said no to that girl who was offering you a drink. The Jaemin I know would've charmed her pants off but you just brushed her off" you told him,

He smiles, resting back on the headboard as he listens to you

"What? Why are you smiling like that?"

"I was with you during that party, I got you drinks remember"

"I do remember, you won't leave my side. Are you sure you're okay?" you ask again, this time leaning closer to look at him straight in the eyes. Jaemin gulps at the close proximity. Right now your hands are resting on each side of him on the bed, he's trying so hard to keep his focus on you but he can't help but glance at your lips.

"I'm ehem I'm good"

You take one look at him again before going back to sitting beside him, Jaemin releasing the breath he was holding.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong right?" you ask, this time your voice was softer. Jaemin takes your hand that was closest to him, holding it in his. "Of course, I promise"

"I think he's in love with you"

"No he's not"

"Well either that or he's going celibate, because I have not seen that man with any other girl besides you. Like literally" your friend tells you, her statement making you even more confused.

If it really is the truth, you refuse to face it until he's literally screaming it at you. You'd rather live with the what ifs than make things awkward between you and Jaemin because of your wrong assumptions.

Just then you get a text from him, speaking of the devil. He's telling you to come over for dinner and to help him with some coursework.

"Is that him?"

"What? It's just Jaemin. He texted" you mumbled, gathering your things

"Yea exactly, you have this smile on whenever he texts you"

"No, I do not"

"Yes you do, but we can argue about it later after the two of you finally kissed then I can tell you I told you so" she says then bids you goodbye.

You then make your way to Jaemin's apartment, knocking a few times and when he didn't answer you punch the code in letting yourself in.

"Jaem?" You call out, when you didn't get an answer you walked to the kitchen to get yourself a bottle of water. After you closed the fridge door, your soul felt like it left your body

"What the fuck" you shouted, getting scared by Jaemin

"Sorry" he laughs, holding both hands up "I didn't hear you, I was in the shower"

You can tell, he's literally shirtless in front of you. Your eyes wander before snapping back to his eyes, "Shirt, is that not a thing now?" you ask him, passing by to sit on the living room couch. Jaemin laughs before walking back to his room to get a shirt.

"What are we doing again?" you ask when he takes the seat beside you

"I just need help revising my paper, then we can get dinner then maybe make out"

"Sure sounds good- wait what?!"

You look over at Jaemin, seeing the big smile on his face. You hit him with the pillow a few times while he laughs, "You're so dumb" you grumble, slumping further on the couch.

To be honest Jaemin didn't mean to say it outloud but he missed you today, you're wearing your usual casual clothes but you look so pretty in his eyes. The overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss you is winning, disolving any remaining restraint he had.

Not like he was putting up a fight anyways. The moment he knew he liked you more than a friend, he surrendered. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn't even know.

"How about a kiss on the cheek then?" he asks,

"Did you even need help or am I here so you can mess with me" you frown at him and Jaemin almost grabbed you by the face to kiss you.

But instead he just smiles, shaking his head "No, and a little kiss won't hurt anybody"

"Friends don't kiss, Jaemin"

"Then I don't want to be your friend"

"What?" you whisper

From the playful vibe, it's now more serious. Did you really hear him say that? Or was it the voices in your head

"I said maybe I don't want to be just your friend anymore"

"Maybe?"

"Let me rephrase that. Fuck being friends, I want to kiss you and hug you and hold you. I want to do all things friends aren't suppose to do" he says while looking straight at you

"But why??" was all you could reply

"What do you mean why? Because I like you, I've liked you for a while now but I didn't want to say anything because we're friends but I don't think I can keep telling myself that's all I'll ever be to you"

"But you can have any girl you want, any girl would kill to be in this place" you tell him, he shakes his head before answering you

"I don't want any girl, I want you"

There isn't really any manual or textbook that taught you what to say when your friend confess to you. Nothing really prepared you for this moment. Hell you never thought this moment would even come.

"Jaemin, do you even know what you're saying?"

"Yes, and I know it's hard to believe with my trackrecord and all that but I swear I haven't talked to any girl in like months. How could I even try when you're all I can think about. At first I though I was going crazy then I realized I wasn't, I was just falling inlove with my bestfriend. Maybe I am crazy" he mumbles the last part making you laugh lightly. This made Jaemin smile

"Do you hate me now?" he asks

"No, I just don't know what to say. I knew something was up with you I didn't know it was this"

"Just me being in my feels for you" he says, this made you laugh.

"So.. can we make out now?" he jokingly asks, "Ha you gotta take me out on a date first and I don't even know if I'm good at kissing you might not want to go out with me after"

When he didn't reply, you look at him again only to see him staring at you. "What?"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I think I've told you before but I kissed a total of two guys, like one way back in high school then that dude from that party way back. Don't make me say the whole story again, it's embarrasing"

"So like technically I'll be your first kiss?" he asks

"I don't think that's how it works"

"We can make it that, I bet it's not because you don't know how to kiss they just didn't know how to kiss you"

You can feel your cheeks get red upon hearing his words

"Shut up"

"Kiss me then" he tells you, turning sideways to this time he's facing you

"What?"

"Kiss me"

"Didn't you hear me, I don't know how. This is em-" you didn't finish your sentence because his lips are on yours. One hand on the back of your neck while the other holds you from behind, pulling you closer to him.

Jaemin waits for you to kiss him back, each second making his heart drum harder in his chest. Just when he's about to pull away, he feels your lips move against his and he swears you just sent him to his own heaven.

He lets you lead kiss, whatever you're comfortable with. When you pull away from him, he takes this chance to pull you on his lap. Your hands automatically going on his shoulders

"See, that wasn't so bad. They just didn't know how to kiss you" he whispers while staring at your lips, this time it's you who kisses him first. From the quick pecks, the kisses turn into something more. The two of you getting breathless but he can't bring himself to stop. It's like you're his air.

When you pull away to catch your breath, Jaemin takes this chance to kiss your jaw down your neck. Grasping your waist to hold you down, you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

"Okay we need to pause for a sec or else I'm not going to stop" he tells you but he also still had his lips attached on your skin. Like it was torture to pull away. With one more kiss on your lips, he leans back to look at you.

"Go on a date with me?" he breathes out, you smile at him. Nudging your nose against his and giving his lips another peck, "Only if you say please"

"Pretty please"

You smile down at him then you kiss him again

"Since we're not friends anymore, I'm gonna kiss you again"

[olderthannetfic]

Obvious Disclaimer that this is not about any specific anon in particular, not about OTNF themself, but that my following rant might *slightly* punch down on people who ARE, well, older than net fics are.

But my honest opinion is that I really don’t like it when us old heads tend to sorta…talk down to? “Adultsplain”, if that’s even a thing? To The Gen Zs, by being like “damn kids! back in my day we never used our real name or posted selfies or posted about our personal life at all!” Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people who never posted the real me — but not because I was anonymous and cared about online safety, because I was a liar 😂 That being said, there ARE older people who definitely over-shared or “doxxed” themselves and still do, and there’s younger people who don’t!

I also feel like being “ha, these stupid KIDS who post about their FANDOM LIFE on TIK TOCK under their REAL NAME AND FACE where IRLS CAN SEE THEM, how STUPID” is not doing anyone any favors. Is that, technically, a smart thing for kids to do? No. Has it become normalized? Yes. And does that suck for people who might be bullied or outed or whatever cuz they genuinely are dumb and don’t know better and then someone they don’t like sees their stuff? Yes.

We all talk about how there’s no more kids spaces on the internet and how that’s a shame, but then five seconds later we’ll reblog that one “At any time I’m at risk of seeing a 14 year olds opinion and that’s why I hate it here” post. There’s really so few kid spaces on the net now, that’s true. We should extend empathy and let the teens be obnoxious and pretentious in peace, rather than making it a point to “ratio” or “roast them.” Idk personally I’d be completely unbothered if some 14 year old insulted my fic or my ship or whatever. I’d just block and move on, no need to try to argue with them.

And also, not all kids are even pretentious or obnoxious! I’m not saying we all need to take the kids under our wings, but we should be careful about not hating them just for being in their teens years, you know?

Also… telling a teenager to not post PII or not get into discourse or not have social media or whatever will NOT work the way you want it to 😭 kids are by default a little bit oppositionally defiant so telling some rando teen to Get Off Your Lawn (blog) rather than just blocking them, will encourage said teen to Stay On Your Lawn.

I just hate how it’s become normal for adults to talk down to teens online. I was harassed by adults online as a kid, then years and years and years later i went through my own “Older Than You™️”phase where I myself was a shit to teenagers, and I truly regret that so much. To this day I still need to make an effort to be careful. I saw on Twitter where an adult posted a DM from a 13 year old, mocking them. The DM said “I’m 14 next year, can I follow you? Please don’t groom me.” And the adult OP was laughing at how stupid the dm was. A few years ago, I would’ve been one of the people retweeting that and rolling my eyes at the child. Now im disgusted by the people who WERE laughing at them.

And again I’m obviously not saying we should be “nice” to the teenagers who mock us for our ships or who virtue signal too hard. But we also don’t need to make fun of their CARRDS or call them Puri-teens or rag on them just for being 17 or younger, yk?

--

Teens aren't 'puriteens' just for being young, dude. They have to also be puritanical bullies.

I find the stuff about real names hilarious because, actually, if you're really Internet Old™, then you probably did use your real name... it was right there in your university e-mail address! Or your random early ISP address if your stepdad got it for you and thought the university format was the default. Thanks, stepdad.

I've done every single dumb thing from going to meet my internet pen pal at an Alice Cooper concert to flying to Ireland from Japan to stay with a fandom friend I'd never met without telling anyone where I was going and without a credit card or enough cash to flee if I had to. I remember sitting on the plane thinking "Man, this is such a CSI episode topic".

The really funny part was that despite what she'd said before I visited, we ran into each of her parents at different times and ended up going to a play courtesy of her uncle, and all of them were like "So how do you know each other?" and "But you'd met before, right? RIGHT?!"

The level of panopticon is horrifying now. Teens have my sympathy. That part really is worse, and I think it's driving an entire generation nuts and we're going to see even more shit about people wanting to run away and live in a cabin in the woods with no internet. But in general, I don't think we're so different.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

HI RAVEN!!!! 🤔 kinda a random thought not really but would you consider ace and sebek to be like? RIVALS? or to have a strong dislike towards eachother compared to other first years/students? 🤔🤔 haven’t read much sebek stuff or book 7 so maybe it’s just the way I interpret things……..

🤔🤔 for me at least I feel like ace brings up sebek especially a handful of times? and to bash on him too or at least poke fun at him. can’t think of a lot off the top of my head but in ace’s birthday jacket vignette he picks at sebek specifically when going thru dorm choices. WHICH LIKE……. I DUNNO ITS GIVING VERY “I BEEF W HIM” VIBES. I figured it could just be because he’s a fellow first year but ?? jack or epel don’t get mentioned when he was talking about their dorms so i’m not sure 🤔

👁️👁️ but I wanna hear your take on it!!! are ace and sebek ACTUALLY beefing or was it all just a headcanon??? 😭😭 hopefully I didn’t yap too much. btw

Sorry for the lack of screenshots; I don’t own all the relevant cards in EN and didn’t want to include screenshots sporadically 💦

But!! I did my best to cite where I’m pulling my information from (main story, vignettes, etc.) and directly quote from the official localization. Hope that’s okay!

I mean… Sebek is pretty much always pissing off his peers because of the condescending way he talks to them. It’s no wonder why he rubs people the wrong way. As for Ace, he has indicated that he finds Sebek to be a pain in the ass. I don’t know if I would personally call it “beefing” though?? I see it more as Ace just wants Sebek to shut up and chill out (though Sebek would definitely shout at Ace and fight him) 😂

Point is, I don’t see Sebek having a particular disdain for Ace (he is abrasive toward everyone), but I do see Ace having a particular dislike for Sebek. They aren’t “rivals” in the same way that Ace and Deuce are, as Ace and Sebek don’t really compete for anything or get into many instances of bickering—at least not from what we see. That might just be a product of Sebek being formally introduced later than the other first years, but even counting vignettes and event interactions, it’s still pretty one-sided; often we see Ace commenting on Sebek but not the other way around.

According to Ace in 7-11, he knows Sebek because they’re in the same Magic Analysis/Enigmics (EN writes this class as both of these so it can get confusing) elective. He also implies (in 7-34) sharing other electives with Sebek. This means Ace has regular direct experience with Sebek compared to the other first years (except maybe Deuce?)… ie more opporunities to be annoyed by Sebek’s arrogant loner attitude.

Ace reports (again, in 7-34) that “[Sebek] insults people like, all the time. He even says stuff right to my face when we're in the same group, like, 'Don't you dare slow me down, human!' And he always finds some way to make every subject about Malleus, then drones on and on about how great he is." In regards to those intense feelings about Malleus, Ace says "[Sebek] takes it to a whole other level [...] I can see why people would idolize [Malleus]. But, like, you don't have to make it your entire personality, y'know?" Ace repeats these ideas in his Birthday Boy vignettes. “[Sebek]’s always yelling something or other about his precious Malleus. Oh yeah, and he talks down to us for being human. Dude's a total fae fanboy.”

In Sebek's School Uniform vignette, Sebek yells at Ace for running in the halls. Ace responds by calling him an "uptight nag" whose yelling will disturb other students. Ace also points out how pathetic Sebek comes across as after witnessing him trip over himself to apologize to Malleus. “Dude, nothing you say's gonna impress anyone after that sorry sight.” When Ace tries to leave the scene to make it to class, Sebek shouts at him. “You wait just a minute! I'm not finished! COME BACK HERE!” It should be noted that Ace is someone who always tries to find shortcuts or ways to get out of work whereas Sebek is strict and diligent. Their mindsets and values naturally clash.

This, I think, is a very good summary of most people's problems with Sebek. Ace is just saying what's on everyone's mind--and this makes sense for Ace's character, as he has consistently been the type of guy to call others out. He also encourages Yuu to do the same (in his Birthday Boy vignettes). This detail at least implies Ace finds it amusing on occasion to tease Sebek for his shortcomings.

We see Sebek’s behavior in class for ourselves in his Dorm Uniform vignettes. Ace actually appears in them too, remarking that Sebek is a “loudmouth”. This is something he echoes in his Birthday Boy vignettes; “Loudmouth doesn't even begin to describe him.” When Sebek starts arguing with his group members (some mobs) and refusing to work with them while simultaneously extolling Malleus, Ace says “Here we go again with Sebek and his ‘liege’… Man, imagine being grouped with that guy who […] All he had to do was play nice and let [the mob students] help. He CHOSE to make things harder. How does that guy even function in society?” Side note: In Ace’s Suitor Suit vignettes, he calls Sebek the “number-one worst contender” for a groom. Ace clearly thinks Sebek is unfriendly and annoying in areas extending beyond academics or school life. This is, of course, in addition to Ace finding his loud voice grating.

Later in the same vignettes, Ace and Deuce are forced to sit close to Sebek in the crowded cafeteria. Sebek insists to Lilia that his classes are going well, to which Ace starts snickering and reveals the truth: “Dude... No problems whatsoever? You've got nothing BUT problems, bro! Haha!” Deuce pitches in: “He got into a loud argument with some classmates during our defensive magic lesson. He called his groupmates ‘burdens’ and insisted on doing their entire project by himself.” Ace then says Sebek must think highly of himself and gets annoyed when his words are taken literally. “Do you not understand sarcasm either?” He tells Sebek to fix his attitude, but it doesn’t seem to work. Ace sighs and says he’s just wasting his breath on this.

Sebek’s Dorm Uniform vignettes illustrate Sebek’s general struggles to get along with all of his classmates, not just Ace or Ace specifically. Deuce notably also calls Sebek out for causing trouble for his peers, even stating “[…] as an aspiring honor student, I can't condone your behavior. Having confidence is fine and all, but you shouldn't make things harder for others. That's just being obnoxious.” Sebek pisses off the other first years in 7-34 too, calling them “shallow” and making a terrible first impression. Ace, who is also present, says that no one wants to be chummy with him anyway—not if he’s going to act like that.

In conclusion, Ace has explained his rationale for disliking Sebek many times over. Rather than saying Ace has a problem with Sebek, I think it would be more accurate to say that Ace has a problem with Sebek and is simply relaying the opinions that everyone else holds directly to Sebek’s face. (He gets annoyed that Sebek takes none of it to heart though.) As for the other party, Sebek chides Ace no differently than he would anyone else stepping out of line, not appreciating Malleus, or… just existing as a human 💀 He doesn’t seem to have issues with Ace other than his lax attitude (which could also apply to many other characters such as Leona).

In my opinion, Ace and Sebek are not rivals (at least not major ones), nor do they have specific beef with each other outside of one-off instances or whenever Ace is in the mood to lay down The Truth and embarrass Sebek. I see Ace and Deuce as your classic rivals and Sebek as like… a villain of the week who cameos here and there after his first appearance to cause shenanigans.