#either way though I’m tentatively optimistic

[hopepetal]

Hi! It's been a while, hasn't it?

@applestruda, @periwinklemoonlight, and I have been working on arc three of the boatem knights au for quite a while now. We hope you enjoy it :)

At the moment, the second chapter is not ready for posting, so it won't be out for a while.

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

His nightmares hadn’t gone away.

Feathers rustling in the wind, Grian gazed up toward the night sky. Sighing heavily, he glanced back toward Pearl’s tent. She had offered for him to join her many times– avians were highly sociable after all, and often slept in the same nest– but he’d refused. He wouldn’t want to wake her up as well.

It didn’t make sense. 

Dreams of a desert, of cold silver skin, of red eyes and names and flowers and blood. And every day they’d gotten worse. More vivid.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something Grian had the energy to figure out right now. He needed sleep.

He stood up and walked back to his own tent, and settled down for what would be another restless night.

And he hadn’t woken up the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

Or the day after that. 

The first day Grian slept through, Pearl hadn’t been too worried. With how bad her brother’s insomnia could get, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to not get enough sleep during the night and then make up for it during the day. She’d checked in on him, of course, and smiled softly at the sight of him curled up in his blankets, wings resting on either side of him as he smushed his face into the pillow. 

“He probably just had a rough night,” she mentioned to the others during lunch, “I wouldn’t bother him.”

Mumbo looked up, frowning slightly. “Hasn’t he mentioned having nightmares for a while now? Maybe that’s what’s been keeping him up.”

Pearl nodded, wings fluttering anxiously behind her. “Yeah. The last few months have been rough on him.”

“I think it’s from all the building we have to do,” Scar piped up. “Trying to finish the lodge has been a nightmare.”

“We’re almost done!” Pearl argued, optimistic as ever. “Just a little more, then we’re all set!”

Mumbo slumped back in his seat, letting out a soft huff. “Can’t we just leave it as is? I think it’s perfectly well done.” 

Scar raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “I think you just don’t like building, mister.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, though he was unable to hold back a grin. “Well, it’s certainly not my favorite activity. I’d much rather be–”

“–working on your redstone, we know.” Impulse chuckled, shaking his head. “Unless you want to be buried in snow by the time winter comes around, we probably shouldn’t be calling the lodge ‘perfectly well done’.”

Mumbo grumbled a little at that, much to the amusement of the others. “Look, I’ll do my tasks and everything, but I’m not happy about it!” 

Pearl laughed, leaning against the table. “You gotta weigh your options, mate. Either build the lodge now, or be wet and freezing during the winter. Which one would you prefer?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

The knights quickly finished lunch after that, making small talk as they cleaned and put away the dishes. The leftovers from lunch were stored away for later, placed in the shed they had built a while back so that the wild animals wouldn’t be able to get into their food.

“Same duties as earlier?” Impulse asked Pearl as they all made their way to the half-finished lodge. 

Pearl nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t see why we would change them. I’ll take on Grian’s duties on top of mine, though I can’t promise I’ll be as fast.”

“Good thing we’re so ahead of schedule, then!” Scar piped up. “It’s a lot easier to focus on one thing instead of a whole bunch of tiny tasks.”

Pearl laughed, her wings fluttering in amusement. “That, and we’re all insanely fast builders. Who would’ve thought?”

Impulse grinned. “Well, I’m just naturally good at everything I do, so I’m not surprised.”

Laughing and joking, the four went about completing their tasks. The sounds of construction filled the air, conversation occasionally popping up alongside it. As the day progressed, it began to get hotter and hotter, construction slowing down as it did so.

Finally, the sun began to set, and their long day of work was called to an end by Mumbo. It was just routine at this point– the knights would work until the sun began to set and then they’d all gather at the west end of camp to watch the sun go down. Mumbo was always the quickest to put away his tools, and today was no different. Impulse and Scar went to join him, while Pearl slipped off to go check on her brother. Just as she had expected, he had barely moved from his sleeping position, only shifted slightly in a likely effort to get more comfortable. She pulled up one of the ottomans, settling down next to his bed. 

Reaching out, Pearl gently brushed some hair out of her brother's warm face, smiling slightly. “Heyyy, Griba,” she murmured, softly so that she wouldn't startle him if he wasn't fully asleep, “you doing alright, mate? You've been asleep all day.” No response. He must've been really out of it. “Well, I brought some food and fresh water. It’ll be on the side table for when you wake up– you must be pretty hungry.” She sighed softly, leaning back. “Well, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, Griba. I love you.” 

Standing, Pearl quietly left the tent and joined the other knights to watch the sun finish setting. She settled down next to Scar, leaning against him with a sigh. The grass was soft against her skin as she sat and tried to relax, breathing in the fresh air and exhaling the anxiety that was building in her chest. Her whole body ached from the exertion of a day spent building, and the cool night air that brushed against her skin and wove through her hair was a welcome relief from the end of summer heat. 

Scar glanced over at Pearl, giving her his signature crooked smile. “How’s our sleeping friend holding up?” he asked.

Pearl sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly. “Still sleepin’ the day away,” she answered. “I dropped off some food and water in case he wakes up and needs something. I'm glad he’s getting rest, though. I think I’m gonna keep him from helping us work on the lodge for a bit, though. It can’t be good for him to be exhausted and pushing himself like that.”

“Agreed.” Impulse stretched before running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding his horns. “It’s hard work we’re doing here, man. Kinda wish Skizz could’ve stayed a little longer to help out, but I guess a man’s gotta do his job.”

“And Tango’s been busy,” Scar added, “apparently he's workin’ on a super secret fly-ification project, whatever that means.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Pearl laughed, Impulse nodding along in agreement. Mumbo’s attention seemed to have been caught by that, and he perked up.

“A project? Do you think he’d let me take a look? I know he had mentioned a few things about combining redstone and engineering and really, it was quite fascinating and we had a truly intriguing discussion on…” Mumbo trailed off, noticing how Pearl and Scar were just staring at him. “...well, Impulse gets me!” he flusteredly got out, and the others began to laugh. 

Impulse smiled, chuckling. The light from the setting sun reflected off his piercings, causing them to shine when they caught the light. “That I do, buddy. That I do.”

Mumbo blinked. “Well. Alright, then.”

Pearl stood as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, stretching her wings as the shadows began to grow over the land. “I don’t know about you, but I am absolutely exhausted. I’m heading off to bed. Good night!” She spread her wings and took off, flying low over the ground until she reached her tent. She landed softly, ducking into her tent and changing into her night clothes– soft blue pajamas with stars and little crescent moons. 

Sleep called her name, and Pearl felt the weight of exhaustion pulling her down. She climbed into bed, settling on her stomach and wrapping her arms around the soft pillow. She’d just barely closed her eyes before sleep descended like a soft blanket, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

When Pearl woke, her limbs still somewhat sore from the day before, she went to check in on Grian before she started her morning chores. He wasn’t up, which meant he hadn’t woken up during the night and stayed up until dawn (again). Pearl was still a little concerned nonetheless, and rushed through her morning chores so that she could go check on Grian. 

When she peeked into his tent, her worry increased at the fact that he hadn’t touched his food or water, and had barely moved from the sleeping position she’d last seen him in. “Griba?” she called softly, “Griba, hey. Are you up?” Upon receiving no answer, she carefully crept forward and placed a gentle hand against his head. 

Oh, no.

Grian had a fever. 

“Griba.” She gently shook him. “Griba. Grian. Grian. Wake up.” Her voice became more frantic as her brother continued to be unresponsive, anxiety spiking in her chest as she tried to wake him. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t do this, Grian. Please.” 

Still, nothing. 

Pearl’s gaze went to the side table, and she stumbled over, grabbing the pen and some blank paper that had been sitting there. Quickly, she wrote down a message to Cub, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she did so. 

Cub,

I’ve been sending quite a few letters lately and I hate to bother you once more, but Grian is sick. He isn’t waking up, and he slept all through yesterday as well. When I checked on him this morning, he was burning up. I’ve tried waking him up, but he hasn’t even responded. 

Please come as soon as you can. 

Pearl

She began folding the paper as she ducked out Grian’s tent, almost running into Scar as she did so. “Ah! Oh, mate, careful!” 

Scar laughed softly, pressing his hands to his chest. “You scared me, Pearl!” he retorted, taking a moment to calm himself down. He caught sight of the paper in Pearl's hands. “Sending another letter, are we?” he asked. “More moth mail?”

Pearl, despite the anxiety she was currently feeling, had to smile. Rolling her eyes, she responded, “We’re not calling it moth mail, Scar.” She closed her eyes and breathed out, pushing her magic into the paper. It took the form of a moth, glowing with enchantments, and flew off. She was quiet for a moment with Scar as they watched it fly off, before sighing. “Grian’s sick,” she told him, “and he’s not waking up. I was just sending a letter to Cub to ask him to come up and check on him.”

Scar frowned, humming thoughtfully. “And this isn’t just Grian being Grian?” he asked, but Pearl shook her head. 

“He’s not waking up, and he’s running a fever. Which, if he was even responding a tiny bit, would be fine, but he’s not even– it’s like he can’t hear me at all. Normally he’d at least have woken up a little and smacked me away or something, but…” Pearl shook her head. “Nothing. He was just… sleeping.” 

“Should we let the other two know?” Scar asked, gesturing with his head over to where Impulse and Mumbo were. They were working on the lodge once more– Mumbo, struggling to walk with the heavy materials and Impulse, carrying as much as he could and encouraging Mumbo on with a smile and kind words. 

Pearl nodded, already starting to walk toward them. “Absolutely. C’mon, mate!” 

Scar jogged over until he was walking by Pearl's side. “Hey! Mister Mumbo Jumbo! Impulse! Hey!” he shouted, waving his arms over his head. “Over here!”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head slightly. “Scar, no need to shout. They’re right there.” Her wings fluttered anxiously behind her as they approached Mumbo and Impulse. “Hey, you two.”

Impulse set down the logs he had been carrying, and Mumbo did the same before collapsing into the grass. “Heya Pearl,” Impulse greeted, “what’s up?”

“Not good news, unfortunately.” The mood sombered up as soon as those words left Pearl's mouth. “Grian’s sick, and he’s not waking up. I sent a message to Cub, but I’m gonna run to the village real quick to grab some general medicine and such. I meant to get some on the next trip, but…” She trailed off. “Clearly, we need them now.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Impulse offered, to which Pearl shook her head. 

“I’ll be flying. It’s faster that way.” Pearl glanced over at Scar, who had joined Mumbo in the grass. “Can you three keep watch over Griba and the camp while I’m gone? Oh, and keep an eye out for a response to the letter I sent to Cub– it’ll be coming back as an enchanted moth, you know what they look like. I don’t think he’ll be sending you a response this quick, but better alert than caught sleeping.” She coughed slightly. “Uh. Excuse the irony of that wording. It’s just a phrase.”

Impulse nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, Pearl. We’ve got things handled here. Go and get the medicine.”

Scar stood, helping Mumbo up as well. “Yeah! We’ll stop working on the lodge for a bit while this whole thing is goin’ on. Grian’s more important than a building, anyway.”

Pearl heaved a sigh of relief, smiling softly. “Oh, thank you all. This means a lot.” She stretched, spreading her wings and fluttering them slightly before relaxing. “Right. I’ll be off then. Stay out of trouble, ya hear?”

Scar saluted. “Aye aye!” 

With that, Pearl took off, flying over the camp and toward the village. Worry settled uneasily in her stomach, squeezing her chest as she tried to not spiral into an anxiety attack. It would not be good to do that while flying, she figured. 

Grian would be fine. Grian would be– he was fine, he was just sick and once he got rest everything would go back to normal. They’d continue building the lodge and get it done before winter and then they’d move on to their next adventure. 

Yeah.

Everything was going to be fine. 

In a house surrounded by much more greenery than the canyon that it sat in, Cub was working on a very dangerous project. 

Well, it wasn’t dangerous– as long as he took proper care when he was around it and made sure to wear protective gear, of course. A mask fit snugly over his mouth and nose, and he wore elbow long gloves with his lab coat sleeves tucked into them to make sure there was zero possibility of the subject of his experiment touching his skin. 

Holding up the blue-green mold (sculk, the book had called it) up to the light with a pair of tweezers, Cub squinted. It appeared to almost have a sort of heartbeat, he noticed, as it pulsed rhythmically. It might’ve grossed some out, but it made Cub grin. This was so exciting. He had only heard of sculk before, from ancient books and harrowed miners who had narrowly escaped death. To be able to study it like this, up close… it was a dream come true.

Cub jotted down some more notes with one hand, holding up the sculk with his other hand. His attention divided, focus solely locked in on the things he was writing, it was no wonder he got startled by the enchanted paper moth that landed on his desk. He dropped the tweezers with a loud swear, the sculk landing in his lap. No matter– he simply picked it back up with his gloved hands and put it back into its container, sealing it away. He then carefully unfolded the moth, recognizing instantly Pearl's handwriting. 

He frowned as he read the letter, before sighing heavily. “I really can’t leave them alone for five minutes, can I?” Glancing back down at his desk, Cub bit his lip, weighing his options in his head. He really had to finish this current experiment in a certain time frame, and Grian was a healthy man (and a Watcher, besides!). He’d be fine if he had to wait for a little while longer. 

He went and wrote a response on the back of the letter Pearl had sent, chuckling slightly at how his handwriting compared to Pearl’s. 

Pearl,

I’ll be there as soon as I finish up what I was doing. I assume it’ll take me quite some time, so I’ll head out early tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on Grian, give him some medicine and try to get some fluids into him. 

Don’t panic. Remember what I’ve been telling you in our letters– take a deep breath, calm yourself, and try not to let your thoughts spiral. You’re doing a great job. 

Cub

He carefully folded the paper back up, watching as the magic Pearl imbued into it activated, and the moth sprang to life before fluttering off in the direction it came from. Cub’s sharp eyesight caught the moment it burst into purple sparks of magic and sped off into the distance– “moth mail” always fascinated him. It was clearly a concept Pearl had either made up or been taught, and he’d have to ask her some more questions about it later. 

But for now, the sculk called his name. 

It took a little longer than expected to finish up the experiment, but Cub always stayed true to his word. The next day, he woke up with the gray light of dawn and gathered his things, taking care to lock his door before leaving. 

The sun began to rise as Cub started down the familiar path to the camp.

You know how this story goes, by now. 

Grian didn’t wake up the next day. 

Pearl did her best to follow the advice in Cub’s letter– give Grian fluids, take deep breaths, try not to spiral, try not to spiral, try not to–

She was fine. She was fine. 

…which was why she ended up breaking down into tears when Scar asked her how she was feeling, and felt his arms wrap around her and pull her close. “I’m– I’m sorry, I just–” She gasped for air, squeezing her eyes shut tight as hot tears cooled on her skin. Her hands were trembling as she wrung them together, trying to lean into Scar’s calming presence. 

Scar gently shushed her, carefully patting her back between her wings as he tried to soothe her. “It’s a stressful situation, Pearl,” he murmured, his voice quiet and comforting. “It’s okay to be scared. Did you wanna send a letter to Jimmy or something? I’m sure he would be more than willing to come on up for a little bit to help out.” As he spoke, he pulled away from the hug and summoned Jellie, setting the furry blue familiar on Pearl’s lap. “Pet the Jellie. You’ll feel better.”

Pearl smiled weakly through her tears, beginning to gently stroke Jellie’s fur. She felt the tension begin to leave her body as Jellie started purring, her breathing evening out as the cat curled up on her lap. “No… no, Jimmy worries more than I do, I don’t think it would be good to stress him out over this… because it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.”

Scar nodded. “Right you are, Pearl. It’s gonna be just fine. G’s just taking a big ol’ nap right now, sleepin’ off that nasty fever of his. Give him a little longer and he’ll be just like new. Cub will help him out and then he’ll get rid of that darn sickness in no time!”

Mumbo, who was sitting nearby, leaned forward. “Scar is right, you know. This isn’t the first time one of us has come down with a nasty illness of some sort. Grian just needs a little care and rest, I’m sure!”

Pearl nodded, taking in deep breaths as she continued to idly pet Jellie, wiping stray tears from her face. “Thanks, Scar. Mumbo. I needed that.”

Scar smiled reassuringly, giving her a thumbs up. “No problem, Pearl.”

Mumbo simply nodded, smiling. “Of course, mate.”

It wasn’t long after that Cub finally walked out of Grian’s tent, his expression kept carefully neutral. “Hey, you three. Pearl, could I speak with you?”

Pearl nodded, anxiety spiking once more as she prepared herself for whatever Cub was about to tell her. “Yeah. Of course. Scar, do you mind…?” She gestured toward Grian’s tent with a slight nod, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Scar in the grass and handing him Jellie.

Scar jumped up as well, brushing off his pants before taking Jellie and quietly dismissing his familiar. “Of course, my dear Pearl! I’ll keep a close eye on G.” Scar ducked into Grian's tent, going to take a seat on the ottoman that had remained pulled up next to Grian’s bed. He settled himself down, letting out a soft sigh and leaning forward. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Y’know, G, this isn’t funny anymore.” Scar swallowed dryly, licking his cracked lips. “I’m all for pranks and stuff, but this is going too far. Pearl’s upset, Mumbo is worried, Impulse is trying to keep the other two calm, and I’m…” He shook his head. “C’mon, G. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word. “Please.” 

No response. Of course. Grian was asleep, why would he respond? 

“I mean, really. It's like you’ve been cursed or something,” he weakly joked, before the thought really hit him. Could Grian have been…?

Scar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shifted into his vex form. 

The smell of magic, powerful and wrong, was so strong Scar nearly gagged. He stumbled back, eyes widening as he realized that the magic was coming from Grian, wrapping around his body and curling around his throat. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Scar approached Grian and knelt by the bed. Reaching out, he carefully opened one of Grian’s eyes with his hand. 

Purple. 

Grian’s eyes were glowing purple. 

Scar felt the magic suddenly recede, drawing into Grian like the water being pulled back into the sea. With a sharp inhale, he stumbled back, shifting out of his vex form as he burst out from the tent. “Guys!” he yelled, “guys, something's wrong with–!”

Grian’s magic exploded outwards.

Pearl screamed, lunging forward as she shifted into her Watcher form, wrapping her arms around the only person close enough for her to protect– Mumbo. The two fell to the ground, surrounded by a translucent magic shield that glowed in blue and silver hues. All around them, purple magic swirled and raged like a storm, and all they were able to do was watch as Impulse and Scar collapsed. 

Cub was pushed to his knees, vex form flickering as his own shield began to crack around him. The magic howled in a screeching voice, swirling around Cub’s shield in an attempt to break through and take him as well. 

“Pearl–!” Mumbo cried out, clinging to her tightly. He was pressed against the ground and could hardly see past Pearl, but what he could see terrified him. Pearl’s shield was beginning to give under the incessant pushing of Grian’s out of control magic, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Pearl bit out a sob, holding Mumbo close. The strain of fighting against her brother’s magic had her gasping, grabbing for any and all energy she had to pour into the shield around her and Mumbo. Raising her head, guilt and fear filled her chest as she caught sight of Impulse and Scar, limp on the ground. She could only pray that they were okay. That they were alive. 

The magic like raging wind reached a peak, screaming so loud Pearl’s sensitive ears ached. And just like that, it was over.

Pearl, Cub, and Mumbo were the only ones awake when their shields came down.

All across the realm, Grian’s magic reached out and pulled others into a deep sleep. A king and his hand, alongside his best soldier. A huntsman. A time wizard, armorer, and a friend of the nearby innkeep. A man who guided others through the mountains. An avian, netherborn, and a man who sold flowers. 

One by one, they were surrounded by purple magic, angry and screaming and wanting. And one by one, they all fell asleep. 

Grian woke up to impossibly familiar faces and one objective: survive. 

He pushed himself up from the ground, shaking his head slightly to clear the fuzz as he looked around at the gathered group. “Welcome to Third Life,” he greeted in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, with words he wasn’t sure how he knew. “You all have three lives. Once you lose your last life, you are out.”

Confusion and concern echoed from those around him, and Grian raised his voice. “When you are on your last life– your red life– you will become hostile. All previous alliances will be broken.”

A deep breath.

“Good luck.”

[moonfurthetemmie]

This part got way out of hand. It ended up sounding like a proper fic, as I had even more thoughts about how shit's going back in the Dreamswap MV as I was writing. Sorry (no im not)

How the Meme Squad got involved (mostly be accident)

So, back in DreamSwap, JR isn’t technically completely gone. There were quite a few people who’d been elsewhere–out on missions, people off work who didn’t live in the castle, that sort of stuff. Ink and Finch survived! Mainly because I feel merciful at present. But it’s a very, very tiny fraction of what they were.

News of JR’s demise gets out some hours after it literally exploded. It hits every news network in the multiverse, and the Meme Squad gets to see a live report from a shell-shocked reporter who’s just barely able to keep their composure. 

What the hell could’ve destroyed the entire castle? Jesus Christ…

Nightmare casually pats himself down and goes “well. I’m alive. So Dream’s alive. So that’s good, I guess?”

The news continues on. There’s a handful of JR people just standing in the background in shock. One of them wonders if “Lord Dream” is under the rubble. 

Over the next few days coverage of the disaster continues, and several teams from across the multiverse–as well as almost every surviving member of JR–start digging through the rubble. For those few days, there’s hope of finding survivors. They still think Lucidity is stuck in there, too.

But by day four even the most delusionally optimistic of them has given up.

No one who’d been in the castle survived. They’d either died from the fall as the whole building collapsed, or they died from the rubble falling on their heads. And by now, anyone who might have survived the disaster and gotten stuck under the rubble was most certainly dead. 

It’s almost impossible to tell how much of the fine gray sand is rubble or the remains of a monster who’d worked there. All they could do is look for clothes and pray their families would be able to identify them. 

But on day five, an investigation team arrives to try and figure out What In The Actual Fuck happened. The team consists of the multiverse��s top experts in magic, ballistics, explosives, various forensic specialties; anything and everything they could think of that might help them. The reporters follow them as closely as they can.

Eventually the explosives and ballistics guys go “Yeah, this was. Definitely a bomb. No clue what kind of bomb could do all of this without making the whole area radioactive as frick, though. In only slightly less surprising news, we found the origin of the explosion.”

The science nerds confer. Everyone names every type of bomb or missile they can think of and the explosives engineer just shakes their head. “No. There’s nothing I know of in the entire multiverse that could do this.”

Then the magic expert goes “...Hey, does anyone know if this place had a lot of ambient magic before this?”

A passing JR employee very calmly informs them that yes, there was some; all positivity, probably because Lord Dream was living here for so long.

The magics expert pulls out a little device. “By any chance, would you know how much? Or know anyone else who’d know?”

“Eh…Not really? As far as I know, no one bothered to like…take readings on it.”

The magics expert turns on the device and it beeps a few times before screeching about dangerous levels of magic in the area.

The device calms down a little as they (very quickly) get away from the epicenter, but it still is heavily encouraging evacuation. 

They make all the teams clear out and the magics expert calls some of their friends who specialize in treating magic overdose.

The next day the magics expert is sitting with the reporter near what look like medical tents, with the rubble that was once JR far in the distance. 

After the reporter reminds their viewers that there was an emergency evacuation of the whole area, and tells them where they are now, the magics guy takes a shaky breath. “There’s toxic levels of positivity in the area around the castle. Further out than the obvious physical effects of the explosion. We only know it’s positivity, because since getting out of there everyone’s become significantly more distressed. Several of the teams have been camping out in the area for the past few days. Those who’d left each night to go home weren’t as affected, but no one was really keen on leaving. Some, who’d seemed in good spirits for the most part, were almost combative when we told them we needed to evacuate. It took a lot of poking and prodding just to get them to agree to a check-up. In a few hours, every single one of them started to have emotional breakdowns. …Including, unfortunately, our reporter friends. They’ve had to stay here so we can keep an eye on them.”

“Most of us are recovering well,” The reporter says. Now that the magics guy has said something, they do look a little shaky. “The team of experts that arrived only yesterday were mostly unaffected. My cameraman and I may not be in top shape, but that’s not going to stop us from making sure everyone knows what’s going on here.” A muffled voice from behind the camera says, “I’ve had to improvise a camera stand, because they won’t let me hold the camera for too long. They’re not sure if there’s any lingering physical effects on our bodies, so we’re playing it safe. The, uh…the stand might not be super steady, though.”

The reporter nods, and turns to the magics guy. “Lord Dream is, as far as we know, the only being in the multiverse who has this kind of magic, correct? What does this mean?”

The magics expert just shakes their head slowly. “I have no idea. I’ve conferred with the rest of my team, and…well, several of us are wondering if Lord Dream really did die in the explosion. I…I guess the only way we can know is to keep digging, but…I’m afraid to find out what would happen if anyone stayed in the area too long. Until we can find a way to protect against the ambient magic, or neutralize it, we have to quarantine the area.”

“Forgive me, but this…this sounds almost like the aftermath of a nuclear weapon.”

“The explosives engineer said the same thing. ‘An emotional nuke’, I think they called it.”

A JR worker, just off screen, asks if they can say something. The reporter gladly gives them the stage.

They take a shaky breath. 

“I don’t think it’s common knowledge outside of the justice division of JR, but…the reason Nightmare has been able to stay at large for one hundred years is because Lord Dream can’t kill him. If he did, he would die, too.” The chatter around the three ceases. 

“I think he called it a ‘destiny bond’. He’s been trying to find a way to break it all these years, but we never had much luck.” They hesitate. “I…I think it would be a reasonable guess to say that if Nightmare dying would kill Lord Dream, then the reverse is true.”

The reporter’s eyes widen. “So if Nightmare is alive, then Lord Dream likely is, too.”

“We’re- we’re not asking him for help, right?” Someone in the background says. “Right?”

“We don’t need him to help,” the worker on camera says. “We just need to know if he’s alive. If he is, it’s only a matter of time before someone spots him.”

“Or Cross and Error can come out and say he ‘randomly’ dropped dead,” someone else mutters.

“I’m…I’m not sure that any of them would come right out to say anything,” the worker on camera says hesitantly. “But it would be the safest way to find out if Lord Dream is alive.”

“What if this ‘destiny bond’ doesn’t affect Nightmare if Lord Dream dies?” The reporter questions.

They shrug. “Then Nightmare can come out and say it. I’d be very surprised if those three weren’t keeping an eye on what’s been happening here.”

They look at the camera.

in their house the Meme Squad choke on their tacos

Nothing else of interest–at least, not to us, or to the Meme Squad–comes up in the report.

The Meme Squad debates whether or not they should say anything.

They decide the funniest thing to do would be to avoid direct contact with anyone, be super sus and totally obscure their identities with masks and sunglasses and hoodies and shit whenever they go out, and just make it really unclear whether or not he’s alive. They “drop hints” but no one has any fucking idea what they mean, especially since some of them seem to contradict each other. They do however confirm that if Lucidity died, Nightmare would too.

This goes on for several weeks. Eventually they realize that the Meme Squad is just fucking with them, but no one can figure out if this means Nightmare’s alive or if he’s dead and Cross and Error are enacting minor vengeance by confusing the hell out of everyone. Both options seem equally likely. It doesn’t help that they’ve started going out only in pairs or individually. If anyone recognizes any of them, it’s only Cross or Error, and they’re only seen with one person. 

They’re laughing hysterically at everyone trying to figure out what the hell is going on. The JR survivors keep saying shit like “i don’t know why we expected anything else” and “of course they’d do this. God damn it”

Right around this time, they decide to just go out together for once. They use slightly different disguises, and Cross and Error do a much better job of disguising themselves; before this, ‘getting caught’ on camera was part of the fun. But now they want to go hang out, which means they gotta put more effort into it if they want to keep up the charade.

They end up in a very strange town. They poke around a little. Nightmare notes that everyone in this place is really anxious and miserable.

They poke their heads into a store that’s showing recent news, and what do they find but Lucidity! 

They go “...the fuck??? Why is he- did he just get isekai’d to another multiverse?? The hell?????”

They assume he’s trying to rebuild JR here, and likely hasn’t come back because he’s stuck. They’ve heard theories of Lucidity orchestrating the whole thing, but they never believed it. They had no idea what happened or why Lucidity was missing, but they knew he’d never. He put too much into that place to just wreck it like that. Everyone from JR would loudly argue with anyone they heard saying that shit. This? This makes sense.

But before they slip out the door, they actually catch some of what the news anchors are saying.

“...estimates that Dream has single-handedly doubled the amount of damage, to both property and life, that Obsidian and the rest of his team had been able to do, even after recruiting Jet. We still have no idea where he came from, nor what he wants, but we strongly urge that, should you notice Dream in the area, everyone follow their universe’ protocol for Obsidian’s presence.”

“,,,,huh”

They gently tap someone on the shoulder and go “um. Hey. this might sound weird, but I think we’re in the wrong multiverse? Can you tell us what the fuck that was.” The person stares at them like they’re insane. “...You’re kidding.”

“No. We’ve never heard of…well. Two of those names. We know someone named Dream, who looks the same, but he isn’t…like that. He’s got this big thing about punishing criminals and making the world ‘better’ and shit. Also a stick up his ass about negativity even though the negative spirit of our multiverse hasn’t really done anything except like. Theft. Never heard of a Jet or Obsidian.”

“...Oh dear. I’m so sorry. Uh��good lord, where do I start?”

The stranger doesn’t really believe them about the multiverse thing, but they can tell that these three believe what they’re saying, so they assume they’ve hit their heads or something.

Also several people have turned to the trio and they are not so eager to be asking questions

They’re informed of how dangerous Obsidian is. And his team. And Jet. And they’re given very thorough descriptions of everyone who wasn’t on the news just now. They seem to be holding something back about Obsidian, though.

“...Three months ago?”

The first person they’d talked to nodded. “Yeah. It’s…it’s scary how much he’s done already.”

“...Our version of Dream disappeared three months ago. His…his organization was wiped off the face of the earth. Everyone thought he was dead, but…”

Nightmare pulls his hood a little tighter over his head. “There’s…there’s someone we know who would die if our Dream did. And he’s still alive.”

“Night, you are not about to go talk to him.”

“What? What’s he gonna do, kill me? Even if he has lost his fucking mind, he knows better.”

“Wait, are you the-”

Cross ignores the confused strangers. “Whether that’s our Dream or not, it sounds like he and those two asswipes have been hanging out a lot. Even if Dream doesn’t kill you, who’s to say Jet or Obsidian won’t try?”

“Or that they’d stop even if Dream asked?” One bystander murmurs. “Obsidian doesn’t take kindly to anyone telling him what to do; including Jet and Dream. And Jet seems to enjoy being contrary just for the fun of it.”

“...Well. Dream’s magic could probably kill them in about sixty seconds if he wanted, and if they try to fuck with me too badly he’ll probably fry their asses to a crisp.”

“Night, you’re going to die.”

“Nah. They won’t catch me.” Error folds her arms. “The last time you said that, we had to bail you out of a federal prison for tagging a courthouse.” “Did we die?” “ightmare.”

Nightmare puts his hood up again. “Look, I’m going to find Mr. Chicken Wings whether you come with me or not. I don’t know what the hell is going on, and I’m not leaving until I get some fricken’ answers.”

“...I’m not sure if you’re brave, or just stupid,” Someone says, laughing in disbelief. “After everything we just told you, you’re still going to go look for them?”

Nightmare shrugs. “I mean, I’ve survived 100 years being hunted down and harrassed for the crime of being born a certain way. And most people didn’t know that Dream would die if I did, and tried to kill me themselves. I think I can handle a couple of evil, self-important bastards. I can definitely handle Dream.” 

“He’s stupid,” Cross informs their acquaintances. “Those two are corrupts. They’re going to sense you, like, immediately.” “Yes, but they’re corrupts, which means I’ll sense them from a mile away. I can’t sneak around them, but they can’t sneak up on me either.”

“...I guess we’re doing this,” Cross sighs.

“You guys don’t have to come,” Nightmare starts, but Error holds up her hand. 

“Yeah, we do. We’re your friends. We’re not going to let you get yourself killed.”

“...Thanks.”

“You owe us both some fucking chocolate though when we get out of this.”

“Naturally.”

And off they go, leaving the citizens of JMV to question what the hell is up with those three.

They do eventually find Lucidity. He is, in fact, out with Nightshade and Shale. They’re terrorizing the populace, shockingly, but they’ve spread out to cover the area. The Meme Squad doesn’t have much trouble with getting to Lucidity before less savory characters find them.

Lucidity turns on them just before Nightmare can call out, and then stops. 

“...Nightmare? What on earth are you doing here?” He sheathes his sword, to their great surprise.

“What the frick are you doing?? Did you lose the last of your marbles?”

The three are looking at the carnage around them. It’s…horrifying. 

Lucidity folds his arms and looks Nightmare right in the eye. “You’ve heard about what I’ve been doing, haven’t you?” It’s not really a question. “Surely you didn’t come just to hear it from my own mouth?”

“...Jesus Christ, he has lost his mind,” Cross whispers. “What the fuck.”

“It’s been, like, three months, and you have done an aggressive moral 180. Are-” Nightmare hesitates. It feels stupid to even ask. But he does anyway.

“Are you okay?”

Lucidity doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Any sudden personality change is concerning, but you now hanging out with a couple of mass murderers is especially concerning,” Error says.

“...I assume you’ve heard about what happened to Justice Reigns.” His voice is quiet. Pained. 

He didn’t do it. Of course he didn’t.

“Y-yeah. It’s…it’s practically radioactive now, with how much radiance is in the air. People–not me–are starting to think you did it, because you’re the only one anyone knows of with that kind of magic and you’re MIA.”

Anger flashes in Lucidity’s eyes, but he takes a deep breath. Okay, so he’s not completely gone. 

“I have been…busy.” He looks at some of the bodies around him in distaste. “I would ask that you three stay out of this.”

They blink. “Wh-”

He looks back at Nightmare, and for a moment, his face softens and Nightmare could swear he sensed affection. “Having realized that I was gravely wrong about radiance, I have decided that I neither need nor want to hunt any of you down. I have no interest in harming you.” 

The last ‘you’ seemed to be pointed directly at Nightmare. Then his face hardens again. “But If you try to interfere, I will make sure you don’t get another chance to.” 

Nightmare studies his face for a moment. “...What happened to JR wasn’t an accident, was it?”

Lucidity’s expression remains unchanged, but the wave of fury and pain that suddenly comes off of him makes Nightmare decide that they need to leave, NOW.

Lucidity is a little surprised. Then he glances around and decides that that’s fair. He would also probably run if he was in their shoes. Well, anyways; back to what he was doing.

Error and Cross ask why Nightmare noped out of there almost immediately after asking that question. Did…did he…? Were they wrong?

And Nightmare shakes his head vigorously. “No! I mean, I don’t think so? He…he was angry. Angrier than I’ve ever seen from him. But…there was more. A lot more.”

They unanimously decide to listen to Lucidity’s advice and stay the hell out of it.

They can still smell the blood. Hear someone laughing maniacally in the distance as people scream. The sight of Lucidity, who’d always presented himself as a paragon of justice, covered in blood and surrounded by the bodies of innocent people he’d cut down. And he didn’t once try to defend it.

Nightmare is especially freaked out. 

They’re not surprised losing JR screwed with him, but…This…?

After a few weeks Nightmare decides he’s gonna stick his nose in after all. He’s worried. Cross and Error try to talk him out of it, but he swears he just wants to look for records on what’s been happening in that multiverse. News articles, videos, photos, anything.

They learn far more than they were initially told. 

They start compiling and sorting through all this information, though they have absolutely no idea what they’re going to do with it. They’re intrigued by the fact that certain offenses by Shale seem to have stopped entirely since Lucidity arrived. By now they’re rather familiar with Shale in terms of him being a prideful, arrogant bastard with a temper and a surprisingly fragile ego, and they’re laughing hysterically imagining Lucidity standing behind him with his sword drawn, because Shale Thought About It, and Shale just sweating buckets. 

They’ll be delighted to know that that kinda did happen a few times. 

Eventually they may try to find the resistance themselves and see if they can help. They likely won’t find out they blew up JR otherwise, unless Lucidity for some reason tells them. If they do go find the resistance, though, they’re going to try to keep it really hush hush about the destiny bond thing. They don’t know how desperate these people are. They really don’t want them to try to kill Nightmare just to get Lucidity out of the way.

And honestly someone probably would try. They are getting desperate. On the bright side, if Dot’s around she’ll probably stop it. If only because she can’t believe that a potential solution, one which would seem to be very easy, just walked right up to them. If she is convinced that it’s true she’ll still probably hesitate. On the one hand, Nightmare, as far as she knows, hasn’t done anything wrong. She can’t in good conscience kill him just to get rid of Lucidity. On the other hand, the longer they delay the more people are getting hurt. Is it worth it to spare Nightmare, over countless others?

Who knows how that’ll go. Not me (yet)

[hdrobby]

their bodies are sinfully close to one another’s now, & robby swears he can feel an electrical current sparking between them ;; one that has a magnetic pull, but is powerful enough to cause damage unless they’re careful. that’s the question though. are either of them equipped enough for the chaos that this could cause ? while he’s optimistic about it, the fact that the pair of them are exerting the same amount of carnal energy is both thrilling, & dangerous. maybe it’s the fact that they’re concealed within the walls of a public rehearsal space ;; maybe it’s the fact that sungho is inexperienced in this game & he’s asking robby to teach him the ropes ;; maybe it’s the fact that their mutual attraction is so immense that it’s hard to fully contain ;; maybe it’s a combination of all the above. whatever it is, robby feels ready for it, & as his hand is taken in sungho’s, he grins & licks over his lips — gazing upward at him as he speaks. the words that flow from such a kissable mouth entice him in many ways, & he hangs on each one of them with passionate investment ;; offering his senior his undivided attention. ❝ well, that only tells me that you don’t know me very well, but luckily for you, that can change... ❞ he replies in a cheeky tone, grinning enough for his dimples to be on full display ;; effortlessly charming.

with their hands becoming acquainted within one another’s, robby strengthens his grip on the older’s palm ;; adoring how strong it feels within his grasp. ❝ i guess you can say that i’m on the surprised side, sure, but only because i wasn’t expecting this sort of vibe from you, if you know what i mean. ❞ it’s a teasing remark, & he emphasizes his tone by winking playfully in sungho’s direction. ❝ it’s a good surprise, though... trust me. i’m not complainin’ at all. in fact, i’m really lookin’ forward to what other surprises may be in store for me tonight... ❞ the flirtation is strong in his tone, but he feels it’s appropriate now that their true feelings are out in the open. why be ashamed or hide his intentions anymore ? all he can hope is that sungho feels comfortable enough to follow his lead with that, but it’s made clear to robby that he is when his free hand wantonly grabs at his waist. it’s this contact that reminds him of the numerous times they’ve fallen into this position before, albeit rather innocently in the past. now, though ? the innocence is replaced with something else entirely.

wanting to kick things up a notch, he brings their pelvises together ;; simply wanting it to be known that he’s perfectly fine with the physicality that sungho still seems tentative about. it makes sense to him why he’s acting this way, but as the leader, of sorts, robby feels like it’s his job to take the reins when it comes to certain things ;; sensuality being one of them. ❝ i think all of that sounds fantastic, & i’d love to see your place. somethin’ tells me it’ll be way more comfy there, especially for all the things i’m thinkin’ we’ll get up to. ❞ then, he watches as sungho lifts his bag to his shoulder, & despite hating the new distance between them, he mirrors his moves ;; gathering his stuff before pressing himself back to his senior’s side once more. he doesn’t say anything, but instead begins to lead the way to their destination.

—

after they arrived, robby insisted that they wash off away from one another. he figured doing so would build eagerness & anticipation in sungho, which is a good thing in his opinion. besides, he wants to take this time to properly clean himself. nightly showers are important to him ;; he truly believes that he needs to wash the day he had off of his physical being to truly start anew. the entire time he cleans up he wonders if sungho is thinking about him — if he’s curious about what’s on the other side of the wall. an impish grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, & when he feels properly rinsed off, he halts the water ;; steam beginning to rise from his body. he takes a deep breath, then reaches for his towel — patting himself completely dry before wrapping it around his waist. then, he ambles to the locker room to change.

though, before he drops the cloth concealing his body, he turns head to peer over his shoulder & gets an eyeful of sungho—wow. offering a sly smirk, he pivots around to face him. ❝ feelin’ good ? ❞ robby asks, licking over his lips. ❝ i know am... ❞

Sungho traced Robby’s smile with a sweeping glance, catching moments of his charms. He was a picture painted with strokes of fervor. He was deceivingly warm too, since at first glance all he could do was concentrate on his fiery hair, his crystal sharp eyes; then it’s the sound of his voice that has him trapped. It boiled through Robby, adding a seamless attitude to everything he did— it made him undeniably attractive. Robby was dangerous for Sungho, he knew that but he stays anyway, steps closer just the same. Until the younger was within grasp, and he plays with the idea of taking his hand, gently brushing his against Robby’s. Whatever was forming between them, he was deceptively ready. He wonders then if he was as easy to read as he felt. Granted he had a favorable touch, but you learn so much about others from the things that can’t be said, only experienced, a language all of it’s own… There, sizing up his hand with a stroke of his thumb, he hoped to learn this touch was alright. “I do, a lot. I’m sorry for not asking sooner. You make me nervous, I won’t lie, and I didn’t expect… This.” A chuckle escapes him, curiosity living in Robby’s tone, fervor worming through his crafted grins, even down to his speech— Sungho was a fool and didn’t hold back from blurting out his truth, certainly a chink in his armor. 

His jaw clenches, favoring the sound of Robby’s voice then his own suggestions, and the shower comment couldn’t go unnoticed. Sungho immediately favored Robby’s idea, put the training to the back of his mind, and started to fantasize of a night with him. “Does that surprise you?” How coy of him, when he’s confessed already to this being a first for him. Still, he as curious about how the other must be feeling, he didn’t want to confuse Robby, or neglect his feelings. And even with the closeness, the distance still felt too great. So he embraces the idea had already been made up, about Robby and how they were definitely leaving together that night. “I’m starting to really like how that sounds. Yeah, let’s do it.” He didn’t just say it, his other hand reaches out for Robby’s waist as an answer, before lips open to speak. His touch was still somewhat apprehensive, as he towered over Robby. 

“We should hit the city; if it gets too late, you’re welcome to crash in my space. We’ll be alone.” Sungho says, low, and just for him. Robby was tucked away presently, specifically for Sungho, and he liked the idea of having a special person. He was making his case, but this moment could be better felt under the steam of showers… Sungho doesn’t want to seem too commanding, but it’s his turn to make a move. He slung his bag over his shoulders, and by the hand, pulled Robby to him so they can get there together. “C’mon. You said something about, showers? Right?” His heart pounds fast, racing against itself — he wanted Robby, a little selfishly and compulsively as if hoarding the person the whole world wanted to give attention to. 

[sodamvelvets]

“it’s not you i want- part two”

bae joohyun x fem reader, park sooyoung x fem reader (platonic)

highschool!au (everyone is 18) + fake dating

warnings: swears, a nonconsensual kiss, violence

summary: your feelings become muddled as your best friend’s plan begins to come to fruition, just not in the way either of you expected. 

word count: 11,504

part one | part two

a/n: apologies for taking longer than i intended to with this part, i ended up rewriting a lot of it, but i think it was for the better. thank you everyone for your kind reception to the first part, and for waiting so patiently. additionally, i’m sorry about the length  the original 7k word count i projected was heavily off, whoops. regardless, please enjoy ;)

Frustration fills you as you sulk to class, Sooyoung by your side and matching your every stride, and for once, she’s not the cause of your bad mood. Theoretically, you should be fairly pleased right now, there are only a few days left until your project is over, and better yet the end of your relationship with Sooyoung, but even those manners can’t manage to cheer you up, your thoughts too focused on tomorrow’s volleyball game, the first of a tournament that could eventually take you to regionals if you win all your matches. However, this doesn’t seem likely to you based on your teammates’ frequent blunders and overall incompetence during practice lately. Unlike you though, Sooyoung seems optimistic, reminding you often that the number of practices has doubled over the last week, leaving the team stretched thin and exhausted, which is why much to your displeasure, she’s canceled practice today. 

“Seriously, Y/N?” Sooyoung calls to you as you purposely quicken your pace, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips as she jogs to keep up with you. “You know it was the right call.”

Still, you ignore her, not even acknowledging her presence until you’ve reached your classroom and headed to your seat, carelessly dropping your bag on the floor, but still remaining standing as you turn to face your best friend with crossed arms. “We’ll see if that stays true tomorrow.”

Sooyoung grins, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re finally talking to her again or she’s just that sure of herself. “It will,” She assures. “Hey, have you asked her to the game yet?”

You fight back the urge to groan. Sooyoung has only become more determined over the past week and a half, especially after your study session with Joohyun, which after much pestering from her end, you had recounted to her in its entirety, well mostly. Your skin still warms at the memory of Joohyun’s lips on your cheek and while it might be important for your best friend to know, you thought it best to keep it to yourself for now as you remained unsure of Joohyun’s intentions. Plus, the fresh memory of last weekend and the transformation of Sooyoung’s dejected grimace to a hopeful smile when you had tentatively brought up the reason for her break up was still ingrained in your mind, the moment repeating itself tortuously every time you considered telling her. 

“But ‘I think so’ means there’s some part of her that’s unsure about whoever she likes,” A soured expression crossed Sooyoung’s face before she continued optimistically. “That means I still have a chance.”

“That’s one way to look at it, “ You shrugged, ignoring your internal guilt for your doubtfulness as you concerned yourself with watching Sooyoung’s two younger sisters, Jiyeong and Minji, both of who were spitting images of your best friend and just as devious, while they played with the family dog at the nearby park, their elated squeals cutting through the humid spring air as they chased poor Haetnim in circles. 

You had always enjoyed babysitting Sooyoung’s siblings with her, having a well-known soft spot for the two that often resulted in them convincing you to buy treats for them, and the pair of Melona wrappers in your hand made no exception to that, much to Sooyoung’s scolding. 

“You’re such a downer Y/N,” Sooyoung groaned, poking your side, but the upwards curl of her lip told you she didn’t mean it.

“I try,” You deadpanned, prodding her back. Your eyes widened. “Shit! Minji!” You shouted after the younger girl as she lobbed something (that you could only hope was mud) at an unsuspecting Jiyeong, resulting in a loud cry as you ran after a giggling Minji trying to catch her before she could get into more trouble, while Sooyoung followed behind you, laughing the whole time. 

“Y/N?” Sooyoung snaps her fingers at you, and you blink at the recollection, bathing in it. It felt nice, the mundaneness of it all, like everything was normal again. You promise yourself to savor the feeling. “Did you hear me? I asked if you-”

“No,” You reply shortly, cutting her off, your gaze flickering to the doorway to see if Joohyun is coming. “Not yet.” You can practically feel your best friend roll her eyes as she lets out an irritated sigh.

Bae Joohyun. Aside from Sooyoung and your volleyball team, she’s become your other problem lately. You’ve gotten to know the older girl quite well over the past two weeks, even better than how you previously knew her after your library study, and you’re not completely sure how but she’s managed to get you to open up too, something she seems fairly proud of, especially so when you told her you hadn’t made a friend since Seulgi. Truthfully, you’re surprised at how different Joohyun is from how you perceived her, she’s nowhere near as mature and reserved as you once believed, but rather bold and playful given the chance. She’s told you more about herself than you ever knew there was, and you’ve vowed to remember every part, from her favorite color being purple, to her hatred of coffee and chicken. 

You feel almost guilty for not knowing this side of her already, despite orbiting in the same circles for a brief period, you never made an effort to get to know her, much to Sooyoung’s disappointment. You didn’t talk with her much you realize, not because you didn’t like her, but simply because you weren’t interested, you had a feeling she would be just another passing figure in Sooyoung’s life, so why bother with the formalities and fake conversations if they wouldn’t matter in three months. You never ignored her completely though, in fact occasionally during the times when Sooyoung would invite you along on a date with her and Joohyun in an attempt to get you to talk with the brunette you’d carry out short conversations, most of which were meaningless and all of them painfully uncomfortable. Looking back on it now, you regret not being more amiable. 

But none of those moments were relaxed like the moments you have now. It’s nice having someone besides Sooyoung to share your life with. Yet it’s somehow also stressful, what was once a rarity now seems to be a commonality, the weird, inexplicable feeling you get around her during your average conversations to your most intimate moments. You’re not sure what it means, after all, you’ve only been truly in love once and your baseline idea of love doesn’t quite feel the same. This time it’s different, instead of a simple sense of euphoria, there’s now a constant buzzing deep in your chest too, and warmth in your heart. You don’t know what to call it currently, but you know you can’t tell Sooyoung about it, so you’re left alone to ruminate in your own thoughts, and the only thing you’ve become certain of is that it’s impossible not to get lost in everything about Joohyun. At least, you finally understand, just a bit, why everyone around you is so in love with her, and why Sooyoung is trying so hard to get her attention back. 

“Why haven’t you invited her yet?” Sooyoung questions, reminding you of her original inquiry. 

“I forgot,” You say honestly. “I’ll do it today.”

Sooyoung nods, accepting your answer, and the two of you begin talking about random things until Sooyoung obnoxiously clears her throat, motioning behind you. Rolling your eyes, you lightly punch her in the shoulder, before turning around to see Joohyun. She’s dressed more casually than usual today, wearing a loosely fitting sweatshirt and high-waisted jeans with her hair down in mused waves, a large contrast to her typical button-up blouse or knitted sweater. You can’t help the smile that briefly appears on your face as she approaches the two of you, her expression unexpectedly blank. 

“Hi,” Joohyun looks between you and Sooyoung, who’s moved her hand to wrap around your waist. Joohyun’s jaw visibly clenches. “Sorry for interrupting,” she says, her voice taut.

You frown, tilting your head. Recently, you’ve started to notice the small things about Joohyun, like how she smells nearly everything she touches or constantly tucks her hair back while talking, and it certainly hasn’t escaped your attention that recently she’s become tense around Sooyoung, acting almost if she was upset by something your best friend was doing, or maybe it was you. The thought makes you deflate slightly. 

Beside you, Sooyoung smirks, seeming to observe Joohyun’s reaction as well. “It’s fine, we were just finishing up.” Unexpectedly, your best friend’s lips are suddenly pressed against yours, and you’re barely able to register it before she pulls away, wearing a sickening grin on her lips. Your eyes immediately go to Joohyun, who’s staring at the two of you in disbelief and something else you can’t quite decipher. You find yourself numb to the anger you should be feeling, more consumed with worry as Joohyun’s gaze meets yours, and you swear you see a glimmer of hurt in her brown eyes before it’s gone, replaced by neutrality. 

“No problem,” She says, her tone pleasant. “Let me know when you’re done,” She calls, walking away to go meet Jisoo. 

“What the hell Sooyoung!” You exclaim, the shock wearing off as you pull out of her grasp, struggling to keep your temper from flaring now that Joohyun is gone. “Why would you do that?” 

But Sooyoung doesn’t hear you, she’s far too caught up in celebrating Joohyun’s reaction to care about your annoyance. “She’s totally jealous.”

“Sooyoung, do you hear me?” You hiss, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at you, but you let go as soon as you notice your classmates’ eyes on you. “Why would you do that?” You repeat, evening out your voice. 

The pleased grin Sooyoung wears fades at your words as her lips turn upward in an uncharacteristic sneer. “Why would I do that?” Sooyoung echoes, more mockingly than seriously. “You know exactly why, and I don’t see why you would suddenly care about it now. What, do you like Joohyun too?”

You're sure she didn’t mean the last part, but you still turn away unable to look your best friend in the eye. “No,” You reply firmly. You can’t like Joohyun. You can’t betray Sooyoung like that.

“Then what’s the problem?” 

You glance at Sooyoung, shaking your head and breathing out deeply. It occurs to you how badly you’d like to slap Sooyoung and truthfully it takes everything in you not to, as you force yourself to ignore the nagging voice in your head telling you to strike back for once, but as usual, you manage to control yourself, focusing on the calming thought that in three days this arrangement will be over. There’s no point in arguing with Sooyoung when you’re so close to the end. You can acknowledge the problem you have was not with this kiss itself, but the effect of it. Still, you push down that thought, silently choosing to keep your word and continue with Sooyoung’s games, hoping that after you can fully resolve the seemingly ever-growing pile of issues with her. 

“You should leave,” You mutter finally, biting your tongue to prevent the temptation of saying anything more. 

“Why?” Sooyoung asks incredulously, practically bristling. 

“You just should,” You say, your gaze shifting to the back of Joohyun’s head as Jisoo mutters something to her. “Please,” You add flatly. 

Sooyoung stares at you, and you can tell she’s trying to figure something out, perhaps why you’ve chosen to be so cordial, but eventually, she gives up and leaves. You let out a huff of air as Sooyoung disappears into the hallway, sighing as you make your way towards Joohyun, and nodding gratefully to Jisoo as she quickly excuses herself upon your arrival. 

“Hey,” You greet, sitting down next to Joohyun. She doesn’t look at you, and admittedly you’re hurt by this, but you choose to ignore it as you continue. “I'm sorry about my, uh, girlfriend.”

“It’s fine,” Joohyun insists. “I don’t care, remember?”

“Right,” You say, ignoring the feeling that she said that more to console herself than you. “Well even if that’s how you feel, I’m still really sorry, and if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you let me know.”

“How about a date?”

You choke. “Sorry?” 

“I’m joking,” Joohyun says with a laugh, poking your stomach. “Free tickets to your game would suffice.”

You dip your head to hide your flustered state, before sinking a little further into your seat, cursing the universe and its way of making unwanted conveniences materialize. “I can get you two,” You say finally. “But don’t let anyone find out or my coach will kill me,” You add lightly, a soft smile crossing your lips.

Joohyun grins. “Well, we can't have that can we?” 

“No, we can’t.”

Joohyun’s mood seems to improve greatly after that, especially when your teacher announces they’re leaving early and you can have the rest of the period as a free block. Soon enough you find yourself accompanying Joohyun to lunch, your fingers thrumming gently against the metal of the cafeteria bar and tapping out an uneven beat while you watch Joohyun distractedly reach for a pre-prepared meal as she chatters in your ear about relatively meaningless things. 

Unwilling to interrupt her, you gingerly take hold of her slim wrist, feeling her almost unnervingly soft skin briefly tense at your touch before she relaxes, glancing at you with an inquisitive look that makes your breath catch in your throat and your hand quickly jump to the back of your neck. “That one's chicken,” You mumble abashedly, looking anywhere but the brunette. “It’ll make you sick.”

Joohyun tilts her head, eyes squinting subtly as the corner of her mouth curves upwards before she wordlessly grabs a different packaged lunch. “Not chicken,” She declares proudly, holding it out for you to inspect. 

“Not chicken,” You agree, an adoring smile subconsciously appearing on your lips before you turn away, browsing for your own lunch until eventually settling on an unpopular soup and rolling your eyes when Joohyun begins to playfully berate you for your choice, only stopping when you lightly hit the crown of her head, prompting a melodramatic yelp but nothing else. 

“Aren’t you going to go be with Sooyoung?” Joohyun asks as you hover behind her, absentmindedly picking at the plastic wrapping on your spoon while she finishes swiping her meal card. 

You puff your cheeks, paying for your food and peering over at your usual spot where your best friend waits with the rest of your teammates, the empty seat next to her clearly meant for you, despite your earlier spat. Common sense tells you it would be best to sit with her, to resolve any tensions and keep up your charade, but the way your heart cracks when you notice the glimmer of hope in Joohyun’s eyes at your hesitation leads you in another, less rational direction. 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine without me for one day,” You say, and the beaming grin Joohyun gives you is immediately worth it as you allow the older girl to take you by the arm, and lead you to the school’s senior longue, where a handful of other people appear to be waiting for her and a few others, the only one currently there that you recognize is Jisoo, who seems surprised yet also pleased to see you.

“Y/N,” She greets with a nod, a smirk plastered on her lips, her amused gaze meeting Joohyun’s and causing you to glance between the two as Joohyun only shakes her head, drawing out an unexpected chuckle from Jisoo before she delves back into a conversation with the girl on her left, leaving you confused and looking to Joohyun for clarification.

“Don’t worry about it,” She says, pulling you down to the ground where you take a seat, back against the wall, a millimeter of space between you and Joohyun. 

Admittedly you feel out of place as you eat your lunch, unable to remember the names of any of Joohyun’s friends, save for Roseanne, the blonde who showed up later, but you only knew her from hanging around Joohyun so much, recognizing her to be Jisoo’s girlfriend that you’d met twice before at a group study and you’d gotten on well enough with her. Still, you opt to only listen as the brunette talks with her friends, watching her reactions with interest and every once in a while you’ll politely chime in when Joohyun pushes you to, but for the most part, you’re content to just silently follow along and observe. Eventually, Jisoo and Joohyun’s friends disperse, heading back to their classes, leaving the three of you behind, having no interest in returning to your classroom to carry out the rest of your free block.

“I like having you as my partner,” Joohyun says softly after a few moments of silence, and you can’t help but notice Jisoo watching you two in the least subtle way possible. 

“I do too.”

“You’re not going to ditch me when this is over, right?” Joohyun asks, gaze meeting yours, and although her voice is laced with a joking tone you can tell it’s all but that. “We’ll still talk?”

“Of course,” You say. “I’ll never leave you.”

Joohyun nods in contentment, leaning into your side, her head moving to rest on your shoulder as her hair tickles your cheek and for once, you register, your body doesn’t go rigid at someone else’s touch. However, that doesn’t mean you’re not surprised when her arm hooks around yours, clutching it as her eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh escaping her lips. 

“Tired?” You murmur softly in question, looking down at the smaller girl as she turns to hide her face in your neck. 

You can feel Joohyun’s lips curve into a smile. “A little.”

You swallow, ignoring the sudden chill you feel. “We have a bit left, you can take a nap if you want?”

“Will you wake me up?” She mumbles.

“I will,” You say, offering her your pinky which she takes with a laugh. “I promise.”

You begin to feel wary as you notice Joohyun’s chest rising and falling slower while she sinks into a deep sleep, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the girl sitting across from you. You’ve always felt off around Kim Jisoo, not because you didn’t get along with her, but because you always had an odd sense that she knew more than she let on. Like you, she’s clever and perceptive and her smirks and glances begin to replay in your mind as you watch her type something into her phone. You can’t help but feel leery, an inkling of paranoia filling you as you wonder if perhaps she has figured Sooyoung and you out or at least come close. If anyone were to figure you out, it would be Jisoo, and the realization doesn’t exactly console you. 

“You two would make a good couple,” Jisoo hums suddenly, making you jump. Her stare is fixed between you and Joohyun, her trademark analytical look back on her face and you’re sure she’s judging you, but for what you’re not sure. “I approve.” 

Your eyes widen. “I don’t like her in that way,” You say adamantly, ignoring Jisoo’s arched brow. “And I have a girlfriend,” You hastily add on, cringing at how your last sentence came out as more of an unconvincing afterthought than anything. 

“Right,” Jisoo chuckles, and you swear there’s a hint of knowingness in her voice as she continues. “But if you didn’t.”

You open your mouth to respond but you falter, realizing you have nothing to say and Jisoo seems to take that as an unspoken answer, going back to what she was doing as if nothing had happened, as if what she’d said wasn’t threatening to unravel the very thin veil you’d crafted between yourself and a forbidden thought you had long ago, pushed away into the deepest dredges of your mind. 

But if you didn’t. The words ring in your head. If you weren’t fake dating Sooyoung, and if up until recently you weren’t so sure Seulgi was the only one for you, if you had just gotten to know Joohyun without your best friend’s hovering and constant check-ins, then what? What would your life be like? You look to your side, at Joohyun, whose gentle breaths brush against your neck. You reach to push a strand of her hair aside and when you look up, Jisoo is once again watching you.

“I-” You begin, but Jisoo interrupts you. 

“I know,” She says. 

You’re unable to hide your shock in time and Jisoo notices it donning an enigmatic smile, for a moment you contemplate playing dumb, but you know there’s no point. “How?” You ask finally.

Jisoo tilts her head, looking at you like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. “Because,” She gestures between you and Joohyun, “You never look at Sooyoung the way you look at her.” 

An hour later, you’re walking down the halls towards the exit, your bag hitched on your shoulder as your own thoughts consume you. Joohyun didn’t wake up until you tenderly shook her awake just minutes before the end of the day, and the tired grin she gave you was enough to make your heartbeat quicken. You’d half expected Jisoo to blurt out your secret then and there, but true to her word she said nothing, and you hoped she’d keep her promise as she drove home with Joohyun. In a way, it’s freeing knowing that someone else knew of your charade, but at the same time, you feel guilty, the weeks of deceit catching up to you in one single stride as you think of Joohyun. You don’t like lying, even if it’s for the sake of your best friend. You resolve to tell Joohyun everything once everything is over, and the weight on your consciousness feels subtly lighter. 

“Hey! Y/N!” A voice, which you’re easily able to recognize as Sooyoung’s, calls from behind you, followed by heavy footfalls and eventually a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you stop?” She huffs, not exactly out of breath, but clearly a little affected by the exertion. 

You raise a brow, unamused. “Do you really want me to answer that Sooyoung?” 

“No, ” Sooyoung sighs, going silent and allowing a growingly palpable tension to settle in between the two of you. “I’m sorry,” Sooyoung says a few beats later. “About earlier.” 

You glance at Sooyoung for a moment, before looking away, not responding as you continue to walk, twirling the keys to your car on your finger in thought. Truthfully, you’re no longer upset with her, at least not as much as you were previously, but you’re still hurt. You’ve come to the conclusion that over the past month, Sooyoung has changed into someone you no longer know, her obsession with Joohyun taking up her life and leaking into yours as she drags you along in this stupid plan, and you can’t help but wish you hadn’t let yourself get into this. And maybe you’re naive to think this, you realize as you notice Sooyoung beginning to leave, but you can’t help but hope that in two more days it will all go back to normal. 

“Hey, Sooyoung?” You call, causing her to turn around. “I’m sorry too.”

Sooyoung smiles softly. “Thank you.” 

///

Your fingers run over the hem of your volleyball uniform, anxiously fidgeting with your shirt before you take a deep inhale, beginning to stretch out your legs and arms. You notice that more people than usual line the stands today as you glance over to the crowd and despite your growing unease, your gaze instinctively skims through it, searching for the comfort of a certain brunette, but much to your disappointment, you’re unable to spot her. 

“Feeling alright?” Sooyoung asks, her words startling you out of your distracted state as she places a consoling hand on your shoulder making you tense and she quickly lets go of you with an apologetic look. 

You reach for your neck. “Yeah,” You say unconvincingly, and your best friend arches a doubtful brow. “You?”

Sooyoung shrugs, her eyes falling towards your teammates, an unimpressed hum escaping her as you witness Seungwan overshoot her serve. “Could be better,” Sooyoung remarks, crossing her arms.

You shake your head. “I’m sure we’ll do fine.”

“Hey,” Sooyoung peers at you, her lip quirked upwards. “Since when are you the optimistic one?” She teases, nudging your side.

“You’re insufferable,” You groan, rolling your eyes and letting out a huff while you try your best to appear unaffected by her provocations, but after years together it’s hard to hold back your amusement around Sooyoung and the smallest of laughs manages to worm its way out of you. 

“See? You don’t really think that,” She declares, attempting to hug you but you push her away and she feigns insult, grasping her arm theatrically. 

“I definitely do,” You assure her flatly.

“Sure,” Sooyoung concedes, although her tone is still playful. “By the way,” She starts casually after a few beats of silence. “Have you seen Joohyun?”

“No,” You resist the urge to frown, the reminder of Joohyun breaking you away from the normalcy of the moment, and tearing you back into the reality of your stress-filled charade. It’s bittersweet, how you find your heart aching for a time one month ago when your relationship with Sooyoung wasn’t so strained and centered around someone else. But at the same time, you also find yourself realizing that you could never let go of your precious memories with Joohyun, a twinge of yearning making itself known at the mere thought of losing her. You grimace, it reminds you of how you felt when Seulgi told you she was leaving. 

“But I thought you invited her?” Sooyoung asks, shoulders slouching. 

“I did,” You reply, looking over to the crowd again and you’re almost embarrassed by how hopeful you are that you’ll find the girl that is quickly becoming your favorite person, or, you peek at Sooyoung, second favorite. 

“She’s over there,” Sooyoung murmurs, elbowing you and jutting her chin towards your left.

You follow her directions with a raised brow, spotting Joohyun alongside Jisoo. She laughs at something, the amusement reaching her eyes while she joyously claps her hands, and even from afar her presence relaxes you. As if sensing your stare, Joohyun’s dusky eyes suddenly meet yours, her smile widening as she waves softly at you, eagerly pointing at her shirt which you see has your school logo on it and sending you a thumbs up. You sheepishly return the gesture, before her attention returns to Jisoo, who is pointing at Sooyoung and whispering something into Joohyun’s ear, the brunette reacting to whatever was said shyly and ducking her head. Inexplicably, a burning flash of nausea sweeps through you, leaving you momentarily shaken, before you recenter yourself.

You turn to Sooyoung, expecting her to celebrate Joohyun’s acknowledgement and you’re confused to be met with an inquiring expression, her gaze flickering between the two of you, but she seems to shrug it off, an easy-going grin returning to her lips, and you find your unknowingly tense shoulders loosening. 

“Did you see that?” Sooyoung asks, an ecstatic tone to her voice that reminds you of the energized way her younger sisters speak to you. 

“Yeah,” You blink. “I did.” 

But you don’t get to say anything else as your coach calls you and Sooyoung over, the two of you sharing a glance before jogging off to meet them and the rest of your team, your anxiety returning as you remember with a grimace what’s at stake. 

The game goes well enough, with your team winning by a sliver of a point difference, something you’re not too pleased by but accept nonetheless, after all a victory is a victory, and you’d be lying if you said you played your best, your eyes frequently wandering towards Joohyun in between sets, effectively distracting you a few times and garnering you a few blunders as well as ugly stares. But the worst part of it all you realize with a grimace as Sooyoung trots up to you after the match wearing a wide grin, is that you have to admit that she was right, or at least acknowledge it. For once it seems, Sooyoung made the right decision by canceling practice yesterday. 

“I told you,” She teases, jostling you playfully once the two of you have started cleaning up the remnants of your match, your teammates having been dismissed earlier with the rest of the crowd as you and Sooyoung took responsibility for what was left. You’re slightly disappointed to notice that Joohyun hadn’t stayed behind, but you brush it off, telling yourself you shouldn’t care, but even the voice in your head doesn’t seem too confident. 

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes, not wanting to give Sooyoung the satisfaction of admittance to defeat, but that seems to spur her on even more, her mockery only increasing while you ignore her unamusedly, until finally you take your water bottle and squirt her in the face with it, which manages to shut her up as she sulks soaked through the rest of your duties, while you on the other hand, suddenly feel quite cheerful, even beginning to hum softly under your breath. 

“Are you sure?” Sooyoung asks you five minutes later, her hesitance clear after you’d told her she could leave without you.

“Yeah, it’s fine Sooyoung, you go ahead.” You urge, lifting your jersey pointedly with a crinkle of your nose. “I don’t think I can wait until I get home to take this off, I’ll be seconds behind you.”

Your best friend seems to contemplate this before letting out a defeated sigh. “Alright,” She says, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “Just let me know when you get home.”

“Will do,” You promise, watching her as she leaves, before you split off towards the corridor to the locker rooms, stopping to turn off the massive rows of lights illuminating the gymnasium first and securing the doors behind you.

You twirl the keys on your finger as you walk, your steps echoing through the empty halls and your thoughts begin to drift off, more specifically to Joohyun and the sickening feeling you’d gotten when she had smiled at Sooyoung, even just remembering it makes you feel unwell. You grit your teeth, looking up to the ceiling and taking a deep breath. 

A long time ago you’d felt that same feeling when Seulgi had convinced you to go out with her to a concert, her begging words impossible to say no to and while you’d enjoyed it, the night was forever tainted in your memory by the exact same rumbling discomfort in your chest you’d felt earlier, because coincidentally, Seulgi’s ex, Lisa Manoban was there too, and watching them reunite left you queasy as they reminisced and discussed commonalities you and Seulgi didn’t have, like her passion for dance. You’re not a jealous person, that had always been Sooyoung’s role (and her ongoing scheme proved it), but for the first time in your life, you felt truly jealous, even if only for an unreasonable second as you’d later find that you got on quite well with Lisa who you recalled had semi-jokingly told you to her call if you and Seulgi broke up. 

But that situation was different from today. You were dating Seulgi, and for a moment your insecurities got the best of you, but with Joohyun? You were just friends, not to mention that you two had only begun regularly talking two weeks ago even if it felt like a lifetime with the amount of things she had coaxed out of you so easily, things that had taken your own best friend over a decade. Joohyun was special to you, in a way you’ve never experienced before, but so was Sooyoung, so why were you so annoyingly jealous of her, when in reality you should be happy for her, pleased that at least this stupid plan was coming to some form of fruition. But Jisoo’s comments from yesterday echo in your head once more, and you curse the girl. 

For the first time, you allow yourself the tantalizing admittance that maybe you like Bae Joohyun before you rapidly lock the thought away in a box and shove it under a metaphorical rug in your mind, cringing at yourself and feeling guilty for even formulating such a taboo notion, thinking of your loyalty to Sooyoung and hastening your stride, focusing on doing what you had to do and going home, where hopefully you can forget everything, but those musings quickly fade as you notice someone lingering outside the changing area, your eyes narrowing and body tensing but when the person turns to you, you relax as you’re met with the very girl who has your brain tying itself in knots.

“Joohyun?” You call, managing to compose yourself before you speak, confusion lacing your tone as you approach her. “How long have you been here?” 

“A bit,” She shrugs looking at you with a smile that makes your chest seize up, your earlier revelation returning to you and you swat it away, reminding yourself of Sooyoung, which seems to ground you.

“And what if I hadn’t shown up?” You can’t help but tease. 

Joohyun crosses her arms, tilting her head. “I would’ve found you eventually,” She answers confidently.

You bite your lip, secretly quite charmed by her as you attempt to mask how flustered you feel. “Right then,” You mutter under your breath, suddenly taken by the sight of your shoes, and Joohyun appears to be entertained by your behavior. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” She clarifies, sparing you from yourself and you think you catch a hint of nervousness in her voice. “If that’s okay?”

You swallow, forcing yourself not to read too much into Joohyun’s request and centering yourself. “Is there something I should be worried about?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” You concede, “Do you mind if I change first?”

Joohyun suddenly coughs. “Not at all,” She mumbles.

You're surprised when she follows you into the locker rooms, having expected her to wait outside, but admittedly you don’t mind the company, once again drawing comfort from her. However your jaw locks when you’re greeted with another unexpected shock, but unlike Joohyun, it’s wholly unwelcomed as your narrowed gaze falls upon your least favorite teammate who stares back at you with a grin.

“Jennie,” You greet tersely. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry Kwon,” Jennie replies, knowing the use of your last name irks you. “I just came back to get something I left behind,” The younger girl looks between you and Joohyun with a smirk that makes you feel uneasy, and you sense Joohyun shift uncomfortably beside you. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it!” Jennie declares cheerily with a wave before walking off and you find yourself holding your breath until you hear the door slam shut. 

Silence settles between you and Joohyun, neither of you wanting to address what just happened, and you too tired and figuring she wouldn’t care, begin to change right there. Joohyun seems to watch you intently as you pull your uniform shirt over your head before she registers you’re observing her reaction curiously. She rapidly turns her gaze away with a choked apology. You think she’s blushing but you ignore the thought, continuing with your routine until you’re done and tapping her shoulder to let her know she can look again, but when she turns she just stares at you. 

“You’re very pretty, you know?” The brunette breathes out suddenly with a hum and for a moment she appears to be dazed by her own words as if she hadn’t meant to say them aloud, but she seems to shrug it off and it’s clear her usual self-assuredness has returned as she reaches to cup your cheek. Her touch makes your skin prickle and your thoughts short circuit.

“Surely that’s not what you wanted to tell me,” You manage to respond eventually, albeit unsteadily.

“What if it was?” Joohyun challenges before she shakes her head, dropping her hand. “Sorry,” She sighs, glancing beyond you. “You’re right. I wanted to ask you something.” Joohyun pauses for a long second, “Just promise me you won’t lie.”

“I promise,” You say, but there’s a seriousness in her tone that makes you shift your weight, highly aware of a building sense of anxiety in your stomach, and you’re certain that whatever her question is is going to change things between you two, and you can only pray it won’t end negatively, your heart not able to even take the thought of losing Joohyun as you begin to brace yourself

Joohyun chews her lip, a fleeting look of hesitation crossing her face and she takes a deep breath, her expression evening out as her eyes bore into yours. “Why are you pretending to date Sooyoung?”

For a moment you’re stunned, your thoughts halting in place as you’re unable to process anything, and everything seems to spin rapidly around you. You feel ill, struggling to hold yourself up while a sickening wave of nausea surges through you, everything incoherent as you force yourself to speak. “What? That’s-” You choke on your words as even more panic rises in your chest. “That’s not-” You squeeze your eyes shut, your head pounding. 

“Y/N,” You can feel Joohyun grip your shoulder, steadying you. “You promised not to lie,” She reminds gently, her voice sounding far away yet you can still recognize an underlying hurt in it that makes you crack.

“I’m sorry,” You manage to murmur, opening your eyes but refusing to meet her gaze and your mind begins to straighten out as you calm yourself, shame still searing through you. “I’m so sorry,” You repeat, hoping Joohyun knows you’re apologizing for everything, every lie and every millisecond of deceit. “I just wanted to help Sooyoung.”

There’s a long beat of silence, and you force yourself to glance at Joohyun, who remains frozen, until suddenly her arms are wrapped around you pulling you into a hug, her fingers running through your hair while you continue to utter a stream of apologies and you’re certain it’s not real, that you’re imagining it in place of how she really reacted, until you hear her whisper against you, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” 

An overwhelming sense of ease washes over you as you squeeze her back, and for the first time in weeks, you feel relieved, overjoyed to no longer have to lie, the guilt washing off of you. “How did you know?” You ask minutes later, and Joohyun shocks you by laughing, the air around you instantly lightening. 

“I didn’t,” She answers honestly, pulling back from you, her hands still resting on your shoulders. “I just had a feeling something was off and Jisoo told me to act on it,” Joohyun grimaces. “I promise I wasn’t expecting it to work out how it did.”

“Shit,” You groan, thinking back on the past couple of weeks, and realizing while you and Sooyoung’s act might have been believable for those who didn’t truly know you, it was painfully suspicious to those who did, and as short as the period was that Sooyoung and Joohyun had dated, they still shared some level of intimacy that would’ve allowed Joohyun to notice the oddities in Sooyoung’s behavior, which even you realize, was much different from how she usually acted in relationships. It was foolish to ever think you had a chance with someone as perceptive as Joohyun or even Jisoo mingling with you, and it occurs to you, in an almost satirical way, that Jisoo, although pushing Joohyun in the right direction, had kept her promise and not told Joohyun.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Joohyun questions.

“Sure,” You say, registering that it doesn’t matter anymore now that Joohyun knows, you can tell her anything and in a way, it’s freeing.

“Why did Sooyoung want to do it?”

There’s a beat of silence while you wrack your brain for an elegant answer before you give up, realizing there is none. “She wanted to make you jealous,” You respond simply, and in hindsight, you cringe at your best friend’s poorly formed plan. “She thought you’d get back together with her if you saw us dating.”

The older girl hums thoughtfully. “Well, at least one part of it worked.”

You snort at her, thinking she’s making a joke, the thought of Sooyoung’s scheme working is quite amusing to you, but when you look at her, expecting her to let out a chuckle, you realize she’s being genuine. “You’re serious? Then why aren’t you with her?”

“I wasn’t jealous of you,” Joohyun laughs, staring at you incredulously. “I was jealous of Sooyoung.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly, your mind making the connection, and suddenly Joohyun’s past behaviors make more sense to you, the kiss on the cheek, her discomfort around Sooyoung, the joke about the date, and it makes you go numb, overwhelmed by it all, yet you also buzz with elation. Your own buried feelings break through the chains you had long since latched them in, breaching the surface and you know you can no longer hide them anymore, maybe if they were for anyone else, but when it comes to Bae Joohyun, you know it’s impossible. For once, you’re certain of something, and that’s that you like Joohyun, a lot. 

“Y/N, I like you. I know I said I didn’t care, but I do care, a lot,” Joohyun says, reaching to hold your chin, a vulnerability in her dusky eyes that you’ve never seen before and she shakes her head, smiling awkwardly. “You don’t have to like me back though, I just wanted to tell you because-”

 “Joohyun,” You cut her off tenderly, the pain in her voice is too much for you to let her continue. “I like you too.”

Joohyun appears shocked at first, her expression wide-eyed before it transforms into a delicate grin, her fingers shifting to gingerly stroke the messy hairs hanging in your face to the side, and she leans closer to you as your mouths nearly brush against each other, her hand moving to gently trace the shell of your ear. “Can I kiss you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, blood pounding in your ears as you manage a nod, and she leans in, pressing her lips to yours. They’re plush and soft, drawing you in deeper as both you and her pour thousands of unspoken words into your kiss, your heart thundering, while you allow yourself to get lost in her alluring scent and overwhelming touch. Everything within you seems electrified as you move against each other, Joohyun’s arms wrapping lovingly around your neck, the weeks of your denial and her building jealousy finally forcing its way out of the two of you and molding itself into something new, beyond the simplicity of love and passion. Nothing else existed, nothing else even mattered, except for Bae Joohyun, and she knew, drawing you in further and further, to get more and more lost in her sweet taste and soft skin as her fingers teasingly sweep up and down your abdomen, leaving trails of burning fire in their wake. A gasp escapes you, but Joohyun smothers it, pressing closer to you with a spur of intensity that sends you reeling, the only coherent thought on your mind being of her.

“You’re the one I left her for,” Joohyun says breathily as she finally pulls away from you, resting her forehead against yours, her brown eyes sparkling with adoration. 

“What?”

“I couldn’t be with her knowing I liked someone else,” She murmurs, caressing your cheek. “You’re the reason why I broke up with Sooyoung.”

“Sooyoung,” You echo, the once far away thought of your best friend coming rearing back as a feeling of panic rises in your chest causing your legs to collapse, your body unexpectedly slipping from Joohyun’s comforting grasp as you sink to the ground, head in your hands. “She’s going to kill me Joohyun,” you whisper. “She’s going to hate me.”

“She won’t hate you Y/N,” Joohyun says, sitting next to you and moving your head to press against her breastbone as she begins to draw soothing patterns on your back, whispering honeyed words into your ear and patiently guiding your sporadic breathing back to normal. 

“How am I going to tell her?” You ask.

Joohyun looks down at you, her expression not exactly hopeful. “I don’t know, but she’s your best friend, she’ll understand,” Joohyun assures. “It will work out.”

You nod slowly, choosing to believe her words as you lean further into her, trying to forget your problems and focusing on Joohyun’s assurances, which you repeat to yourself even a half-hour later, as you arrive home and pull your phone out to text Sooyoung with a pang of guilt, leaving her message on read when she questions what took you so long.

“She’ll understand,” You mumble to yourself half-heartedly, already beginning to think of how you could ever explain this to your best friend. 

///

Your parents aren’t home, having gone out to a corporate party that would last well into the night when Sooyoung shows up at your doorstep. Her hair is slick with rain, matted down and stringy as small drops of water drip off her, and when you blink you’re reminded of a night that was so long ago, yet somehow feels so fresh despite the immeasurable changes that have occurred since now and then. When Sooyoung was standing on your porch soaked and shaking and you pulled the newly heartbroken girl into your arms, murmuring consoling words into her ear as you held her tighter than you’d ever held her before. But this time isn’t like that you register, observing the blankness in Sooyoung’s brown eyes and you resist the urge to step back when you catch the angered twitch of her lip.

Possibilities for her fury begin to run through your head, recalling the way she had looked at you with gentle worry just two hours ago, a clear cut contrast to the venomous way her gaze bores into yours now, but you realize there’s no point in sifting through possibilities. There’s no point in pretending to be ignorant or remaining in denial. You know why she’s here. Possibilities didn’t matter anymore, not when you had a definite involving the now shared center point of both your lives, Bae Joohyun, and you knew that this was the last straw. You and Sooyoung were two moons fighting for one orbit, and the only ending was disaster and collision, a deadly finale of an explosion you saw coming from kilometers away barrelling towards you. No Joohyun, you thought, her comforting words returning to you, things would not be okay. And suddenly only two questions remained within you, how had Sooyoung found out, and how would you tell her? 

You clear your throat. “Hey.”

But Sooyoung doesn’t bother to greet you back, instead, slipping past you as a growing dread begins to fill your stomach, and leaving you to silently close the door behind her and follow her into your kitchen, watching cautiously as she reaches into one of your cupboards for an empty glass, her familiarity with your home becoming less comforting and more haunting. 

“Did you know that Bae Joohyun kissed someone?” Sooyoung asks suddenly, her tone chillingly casual as she turns on your faucet. 

Your breath catches for a moment taken aback by her bluntness, before you manage to make it even out, still keeping an arm’s length distance from the older girl as you lean against one of the counters, forcing yourself to meet her gaze and not allowing yourself to be intimidated. Your jaw sets as you look into her rage-filled glare. “Really?” You ask, choosing to play dumb and buy yourself more time, foolishly hoping you can figure out a way to deescalate your impending doom, but the choice only makes the bubbling guilt within you rise as you realize your deceit, and you can feel bile rising in your throat. 

“Really?” Sooyoung mocks, arching a brow. “I just figured you would know,” She looks to you for an answer, sipping her water, and placing it down painfully slow but you remain silent, feeling more sickly by the second. “Since there’s this picture,” She continues. “And the person in it looks an awful lot like you.” 

Dazed by her revelation, you blink as your mind splits itself into multiple directions, before it hones in on a single passing moment finding your answer. Jennie Kim. She must’ve snuck back and caught you and Joohyun. You swallow, and for the first time, your resolve flickers, eyes widening briefly before you regain control of your appearance, but not fast enough to escape Sooyoung’s notice as she abruptly grabs your wrist, forcing you closer to her. “Was it you?”

You grit your teeth as Sooyoung’s nails dig into your skin, looking her dead on and you know you can’t lie to her, even if you did she’d see through it. “It was,” You admit, forcing your voice to reamain steady while your lie collapses around you, filling you with shame. “It was me.”

“I fucking knew it!” She exclaims with a harshness that you’ve never heard before. Sooyoung releases her grip on you, her hands jumping to hold her head as she starts to pace the room, seething and throwing volleys of insults your way while you observe, taking it quietly until she turns on you, her expression dark as she laughs. “You’re the one she left me for.” 

“You just figured that out?” You bite back, unable to hold your tongue any longer, your meekness cracking, choosing for once, to not let Sooyoung push you around so easily. 

“You don’t deserve her,” Sooyoung states. “And when she realizes that, she’ll leave you too, just like Seulgi.” 

The words are like a slap to the face, your insecurities on full display and flooding you with humiliation that rapidly transforms itself into a fit of raw, unfiltered anger you’ve never felt before. “And you think you deserve her?” You challenge, tilting your head. “After all you’ve done is treat her like an object, acting like she was just another trophy to add to your collection and not a real person! At least I have the decency to see her as a human being and not as you called her, ‘a future celebrity’ for you to show off!”

Sooyoung bristles, scoffing cruelly. “You are such a fucking liar Y/N. I never did any of that.” 

“Never did that?” You echo incredulously. “Then what do you call trying to manipulate her into loving you again with a fake girlfriend? Is that not treating her like an object?” 

“Oh quit acting so high and mighty,” Sooyoung sneers, pressing a finger into your chest “You agreed to help me!”

“Because you’re my best friend!” You shout, pushing her away from you, glowering and suddenly every tightly wound string within you finally snaps, breaking apart like a ball of rubber bands as weeks worth of resentment rushes from you, oozing through your blood and turning it cold. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy Sooyoung,” You breathe, exasperated. “And I thought this would help, but it only made everything worse. I know I agreed, but the difference between you and me is that I regret it every day and I swear I will spend my life trying to make it up to her if I have to. But you?” The rage in your voice only seems to grow. “You’re a selfish brat that doesn't give a single shit as long as you get what you want!”

Hurt seems to flicker in Sooyoung’s eyes as you finish speaking, but only for a split second as they abruptly quickly turn dark, dangerous almost, and you’re stumbling backward as she shoves you hard, seizing you by your shoulder as you make impact with the countertop behind you and punching you square in the jaw, your head whipping to the side with a groan. Sooyoung seems to recognize the gravity of what she’s done as she releases you, her expression bewildered as she backs away leaving you to prop yourself up. The metallic taste of blood begins to fill your mouth and you wipe your lips staring at Sooyoung with a similar look of shock, and suddenly she no longer looks like the Sooyoung you know. You tenderly reach to rub your aching jaw, the hit not having been hard enough to cause serious damage, you note thankfully, but the pain is still agonizing.

And it occurs to you that you were wrong. Things between you and Sooyoung will never be the same, or at least not in the way you wanted, even if you were to forgive her right now. You always thought she needed you, and she did, but in a way that was different from how you needed her. Maybe it was your fault, for choosing to remain blind to the growing fracture of your relationship, you were no longer the two young girls who begged their mothers for extra sweets, but rather two strangers divided, and perhaps it was meant to be like this. Perhaps you never followed the same paths you thought you did. There comes a point when something is too broken to be fixed, too poisoned to be cured, and is that not where you are now? The shattered pieces of your relationship are too small, fine, and fragmented to possibly find them all, nonetheless glue them back together. No, it could never be the same. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sooyoung finally utters, her voice cracking. 

But you ignore her because for some inexplicable reason you don’t care anymore, you’re numb to the pain in her tone. All you can think of is yesterday. Yesterday when you promised Joohyun you’d always be there, and you know that no matter how much you may want it, you can’t have both Joohyun and Sooyoung. You have to choose. And as you look at your best friend for the first time without clouded vision, you can finally see that you don’t know her anymore, and you haven’t for months, maybe years. 

You look at Sooyoung with a grimace. “Get out.” 

///

Joohyun’s delicate arms wrap around your waist, her body leaning against your side with her head resting in the notch of your collarbone as you watch the final ribbons of daylight begin to retreat over the pink and orange dappled horizon, your appearance content. The two of you blissfully stand amongst the slowly dispersing crowd on the plush fields behind your former school, a palpable jubilance dancing through the air while your classmates linger around you, some of them beginning to split off towards their own celebrations while others stay to talk. Not too far away from you, your own family sits alongside Joohyun’s chatting cheerfully, and you smile at the sight.

“They’re probably talking about when we’ll get married,” Joohyun jokes, her gaze clearly having followed yours as you wave to them. 

You glance at her amusedly. “You think?” 

“Definitely,” She sighs. “I can already hear them asking me tonight,” Joohyun pauses, clearing her throat in preparation to imitate her mother. “Joohyun,” She mocks, and you struggle to hold in a laugh at her awful impression. “Now that you’ve graduated don’t you think it’s time to settle down?”

“But mom,” You play along. “I’m only eighteen!”

Joohyun pinches you, making you yelp. “I don’t sound like that,” She chides, her expression serious as she tries to be intimidating, but the affection glimmering in her eyes only causes you to grin dopily. 

It’s almost strange how blissful you feel around Joohyun, the feeling only having exponentialized over the past four months you’ve been dating. Bae Joohyun, you’ve concluded, is what makes you complete, and you’re determined not to let her go. But amongst the pleasurable moments, there also laid the darker ones, where with a panging ache, you remember your former best friend.  

You haven’t talked to Sooyoung since that night, and there’s been no need for you either, not after you quit the volleyball team. You felt guilty, leaving them during your final tournament of the year, but you couldn’t face her, not after everything that happened, and especially not when word spread that you/d “cheated” on Sooyoung with her ex. You humiliated her, and you knew that if she didn’t hate you before, she surely did now. But truthfully, even without your best friend at your side, you’re happier than you’ve ever been. There are some emotions you can’t describe, and the way you feel about Joohyun is just that. 

Joohyun is everything to you and you haven’t told her yet, but you think you love her. And although you’re sure she knows it already, you still want to tell her so desperately, but the words are caged within you, because when you try to say it a haunting insecurity begins to swallow you, overwhelming you with a lingering fear that she’ll leave, just like Seulgi, that this is all an intricate yet delicate illusion that will crumble with a single misstep. But Joohyun always assures you it’s not, and when she cups your cheek and gazes at you with the same adoration you look at her with, it’s hard not to believe her, and suddenly you find the words are caught in your throat for a different reason. 

You remember calling her after Sooyoung had left, and the unbridled fury in her eyes as she saw the bruise forming on your jawline, swearing to you that she’d go kill Sooyoung there and then and you knew she would. But you begged her to leave the girl alone, to just let it go, and with reluctance she did, holding you close until your parents returned home with a barrage of distressed questions, none of which you answered. Despite what Sooyoung had done to you, you still wanted to protect her as much as you yourself didn’t understand it.

Many times you’ve realized, while lying wide awake late at night, staring mindlessly into the emptiness above, that as much as you despised Sooyoung, in a way you loved her too, and like anyone you love, a piece of her would stay with you forever. For a long time, your life was closely intertwined with Park Sooyoung’s and you knew that you’d forever treasure that, yet you also acknowledged the bitter ending, where the connection between you two began to waver and decay even as you forced yourself to remain ignorant to the fact, hoping that if you just pretended it was okay, it would turn out that way. 

For many months you’d hated her for everything, clinging in a macabre way to the stabbing thoughts of how she had used you or the pain she’d inflicted on you until one day you suddenly didn’t care anymore. You just felt tired, your resentment had drained you, and your exhaustion began to affect the lives of the people you loved, including Joohyun, as you went about things half-heartedly, your bitterness clear even if you never acted on it, and that was when you recognized it wasn’t worth it. So you just let go of it, and in your own way, you forgave Sooyoung too, remembering your own wrongs, as you came to the conclusion that the blame couldn’t be placed on one of you but both. Both of you had harmed each other in your shared desperation to reach your own goals, so you simply chose to focus on the happier memories you had with Sooyoung, which admittedly made your chest pang dully, but the poisoned space she had left your heart with was finally starting to mend itself slowly with your own acceptance and Joohyun’s nurturing touch. 

“Y/N?” Joohyun calls to you tenderly, gently grasping your chin and turning your face to look at her own, subtle concern flickering across her features. “Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling softly. “Of course.”

“You sure?”Joohyun questions, arching a brow, her gaze searching yours. 

“Yeah,” You hum, carefully untangling yourself from her grasp to face her, moving to press your lips against hers in a brief kiss as you reach for her hand, remembering a moment, months ago when you had promised you wouldn’t leave her and just like then, you hold out your pinky. “I promise.”

Joohyun shakes her head, the corner of her mouth curling upwards as she wraps her finger around yours before placing her arms around your midriff and pulling you into her. “You’re starting to rack up a lot of promises to keep Y/N,” She says with a teasing lilt.

“Really?” You ask breathily, still very much so affected by Joohyun’s closeness. “In that case, I also promise to never break a promise.” 

The older girl rolls her eyes at your words, pretending to be unimpressed by your sentimental behavior, but you can feel her hold on you subtly tighten, telling you how she truly feels as you contentedly lean into her, your head resting atop hers, each of you bathing in the other’s presence, however, the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you rapidly startles you out of your bliss, effectively cutting through your delicate moment with Joohyun as she looks over your shoulder, her jaw tensing.

“Joohyun?” You murmur, confusion lacing your voice as you remove yourself from her, turning to see what’s upset her and suddenly your posture stiffens, your gaze leveling with the familiar face of your former best friend, her stance mirroring yours despite her having sought you out. Joohyun protectively steps to stand beside you, her hand moving to the small of your back and her eyes saturate with resentment as she glances between you and Sooyoung.

“Y/N,” Sooyoung greets curtly, glancing over at Joohyun, and you’re quick to catch the flicker of sourness in her expression, your nearly two-decade friendship not forgotten as you easily read her, and you’re sure it’s mutual. “Joohyun,” She adds hollowly. 

 “Sooyoung,” You address her cautiously, your voice surprising you with its steadiness, a stark contrast to how you feel internally because no matter how much you’ve missed her, you’re still clouded with a wariness of her, remembering the taste of blood on your tongue.

“I wanted to say congratulations,” Sooyoung speaks calmly, but her fingers anxiously running through her hair betray her neutral appearance. “To both of you.”

You’re taken aback by her admittance, your mind already analyzing the possibilities of her intentions while you observe Sooyoung’s features, which seem to be emotionless, with an arched brow. But she gives nothing away, clearly having recognized her earlier mistake.

“Thank you,” Joohyun replies politely, surprising both you and Sooyoung as you peer at your girlfriend with widened eyes, noticing, however, that as she finishes speaking her lips are pressed together. 

You nod, shaking yourself out of your stupor as you lamely add, “Congratulations to you too Sooyoung.” 

Sooyoung stares at you for a long second, as if she’s committing this moment to memory, before she excuses herself, walking away from the two of you. Your chest aches, because when you blink you see a million memories, reminding you of what feels like a far off dream, and for just for a second you remember a time that seems so long ago it can’t possibly be real, when Sooyoung and you weren’t so far apart. And you’re so desperate because you can feel her slipping, and you know today is your last chance to grab hold of her once again before she floats away forever. But you can’t seem to yell out to her, your heart cracking one last time over Park Sooyoung, the girl you once considered your closest friend turned stranger, as you finally realize the inevitable, your rose-tinted fantasies crumbling into ashes. 

Your chapter with Sooyoung is over, and there’s nothing you can do to extend it, there’s nothing you can do to fix it, no matter how many times you’ve relentlessly combed over hundreds of solutions, playing them out in your head despite secretly knowing the answer. You don’t mourn the loss of the perfect world you wanted with Sooyoung and Joohyun, but instead, you embrace your new reality, accepting that you were fortunate enough to have grown up with Sooyoung, and the only thing you can hope for is that she’ll eventually be okay, just like you will be, as you allow her to walk away, one final time.

“Sooyoung,” You call, and when she looks back at you, a thousand unspoken words travel between you two, and for the second time in your life, you see her cry, tears pricking in your own eyes. “Good luck.” 

Sooyoung bows her head at you with a soft grin, and for a moment, it’s only you and her, soaking in bittersweetness together, the past versions of yourselves swirling around you and you can practically hear your shared childish laughter in your ears before it fades, you and Sooyoung standing at the start of two divided paths, your grasps on each other slipping. 

“You too,” She answers and the connection is severed as she glances between you and Joohyun one last time before continuing on, and with one final pang of your heart, you watch her fading form disappear into the crowd.

You turn to your girlfriend, your mouth upturned in a melancholic smile that you’re sure better resembles a grimace, and Joohyun reaches to you, her thumb gingerly brushing away the remaining teardrops on your cheek. “I’m proud of you,” She whispers, pulling you into a hug that slices through your resilient facade, and the sobs you’ve been holding in for weeks suddenly escape you, your body quivering in Joohyun’s firm grasp.

But each pained whimper that leaves your lips carries a portion of the immense weight you’ve been sustaining on your shoulders and lightens the pressure on your tired soul. It’s almost therapeutic, as all your compartmentalized emotions flow from you freely, dispersing into the air and by the time you let out your last cry, you feel anew. 

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, embarrassed, into Joohyun’s shoulder, shifting to look her in the eye, and wiping the wetness from your face. “I didn’t mean to cry.”

Joohyun shakes her head, her arms remaining around your waist. “Don’t apologize for that Y/N,” She rests her forehead against yours as she chuckles softly and this time she reaches for your pinky. “I have one more promise for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll never apologize for crying.”

You stare at Joohyun for a moment, savoring the presence of the person you love, and not for the first time, it occurs to you, that while Joohyun might be the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen, what makes her so enthralling to you isn’t her looks but her caring and delicate deposition, and while you adore her confidence, you know that hidden under it lies a gentle girl with a timid touch who wants to be cared for as much as she cares for you. 

“Of course,” You say, and she doesn’t know it, but when you speak, you’re silently making her another promise, to always treasure her, and make sure she feels your adoration, a new determination to never let her go filling you, and suddenly the words you’ve wanted to say for so long are finally ready. “I love you,” You breathe out.

Joohyun beams, tightening her grip on you, and you yelp as she takes you by surprise, the older girl is shockingly strong as she lifts you into the air, twirling you for a brief second before placing you down, your body overwhelmed with affection. “I love you too” Joohyun murmurs, her expression pure bliss as she begins to repeatedly place feather-light kisses on random parts of your face, making you giggle.

She stops when she feels you reach to caress her cheek, and you watch her intently, her eyes practically glimmering while she leans into your hand with a soft sigh, and you can’t resist the urge to surge forward and press your lips against her, capturing them in such an intimate kiss that it makes you swoon, pouring all your love for her into it until you’re sure it’s tangible and you’re completely lost in everything that is her.

When you pull apart, Joohyun’s smile is wide, though you’re sure yours is wider, and you’re suddenly certain that loving Bae Joohyun is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. 

[nuatthebeach]

Movie!Hinny Positivity Post

Scrolling through my posts, I realize I tend to shit on Movie Hinny, Ginny, and Harry a lot lmfaooo, so I thought I’d make a Movie!Hinny positivity post to prove to myself I really can be optimistic about a mostly pessimistic adaptation if I try. Feel free to reblog and add more to this list if I missed any!

1. The MOVIE SOUNDTRACKS HOT DAMN. The songs “Ginny” and “When Ginny Kissed Harry” has to be in my top 3 movie songs (right after “Snape to Malfoy Manor” aka the title theme song to DH1). They are just so angelic and beautiful that it makes their kissing scenes way more palatable to watch imho.

2. The intense, piercing, soul-searching way Harry looks at her in the last three movies (though mainly HBP). Even though they don’t really speak to each other much in HBP, their heated looks manage to tell a story of their own that I don’t even think Romione does until some parts of DH1. Seriously, Harry doesn’t look at anyone in the heated way he looks at Ginny, not even Cho, Romilda, Luna, or the waitress diner girl at the beginning of HBP, whom if they were given noncanon romantic looks were nowhere near as searing as the ones he gave to Ginny. (The only time he gets even close is to Hermione during the noncanon dancing tent scene but I’m trying to keep this post positive lmfao so let’s move on…). For instance, even if you don’t like these scenes there’s no denying the actors - especially Dan Rad - mastered the great art of eye-fucking. Think about it: the looks when Harry gazes up at her while she’s at the top of the Burrow all-Repunzel-Flynn-Ryder-style with the song “Ginny” playing in the background, when Harry finishes that tension-filled hug also at the Burrow, when he’s listening to her brothers tease Ginny about Dean in Fred and George’s shop, when Ginny walks in late during Slughorn’s dinner and he stands up and stares at her, when she walks in the RoR in DH2 and the hard set of Harry’s jawline and eyes go soft when they see her, when SHE ASKS TO ZIP UP HER DRESS AND THE UP-AND-DOWN LOOK HE GIVES LITERALLY RIGHT WHILE HES DOING IT OH MY FFFFING LORDDDDD 💦💦💦🌊🌊🌊. Anywho.

3. The hug Ginny gives Harry after Dumbledore dies. A beautiful addition to the books that actually contributes to the strength of their relationship. In the books, Ginny is the only one to pull Harry away from his beloved mentor and idol’s body, but in the movies, she stays with him and holds him through his pain, really emphasizing her role as his greatest source of comfort. Both versions of course were cute, but this was not bad either.

4. When Ron says “you know why I listen to the radio every day? So I don’t hear Ginny, or Fred, or Molly” and Harry goes “you think I’m not listening too? You think I don’t know how this feels?!” Okay, I know that the focus of this fight in the movie was not on Hinny but at least it shows that Harry was thinking about her even if not all of his actions in the tent scenes did.

5. Right before the Golden Trio Disapperates from Fleur and Bill’s wedding and Harry shouts “Ginny!” while running to protect her but Lupin holds him back and pushes him toward his friends. (Which btw is very much reminiscent of when Lupin holds him back from running to Sirius right after he dies AND as we see later in DH2, when Arthur holds Ginny back from running to “dead” Harry as she shouts “No. NO!”). An uncharacteristic thoughtful small scene written by the man himself, Steve Kloves, everyone, who would’ve thought.

6. When they kiss in DH2 spontaneously and Ginny goes “I know,” which many assume to mean that she knows that Harry was about to tell her he loves her. This was also their least cringey on-screen kiss, so extra points for that. ALSO FUN FACT which y’all might know already and I’m just slow but did you know that Daniel Radcliffe and Bonnie Wright actually improvised that kiss scene? There’s an interview online in which DR talks about it (he says something along the lines of “I could die any minute now, Ginny. We should probably kiss” in that very awkward, dry way that he’s known to talk in interviews lmfaoooo.)

7. when Hermione says “how does it feel like, when you see Dean with Ginny?” and after the whole Angry Bird™️ live action moment she performs, Harry goes “It feels like this.” I’m not a huge fan of this scene generally for other reasons but something about this dialogue was very poignant and was a good summary of his feelings even if the actual acting/scripts for other parts didn’t always match up.

8. The deleted scene of Harry desperately clutching Ginny’s hand while marching toward the Great Hall in DH2. Also plot-wise, it makes a lot more sense if they had not removed it because otherwise one is left questioning how Harry showed up in the following scene in which he accuses Snape.

9. In the Epilogue scene where Albus falls behind and Ginny and Harry look at each other with the same cadence as an old married couple who just internally know each other and their child and how to console him. It just screams long-term intimacy and maturity, I love it. The glance happens for a millisecond but it’s definitely, obviously there.

10. In COS where Ginny runs away from Harry when they first meet is honestly the cutest thing in the history of forever. Plus the way Harry runs and I mean runs to her cold almost dead body and grips her hand when he finds her on the Chamber floor.

11. This is less of a Movie Hinny thing but a Movie Ginny thing but you guys. The sheer COMMAND my girl has on the Quidditch field in the match against Slytherin. Even though the focus is on Ron’s victory (another soundtrack song that ranks prolly #5 for me), if you pay attention to Ginny’s plays, she’s absolutely fucking fierce and impressive as hell. To the point that the strength of her Quaffle throw knocked a few Slytherins against the hoops too. Again, it’s subtle but unmistakably, purposefully there.

12. Another Movie!Ginny appreciative moment is literally almost all of her dialogue in GoF. (“I think you’re in love, Ron.” “I’m not wearing that it’s ghastly.” “Don’t be so rude.”) She’s hilarious and where was that sass and spunk in the later movies where they actually mattered??

13. Again, again, again, the friendly but awe-encompassing looks he gives her in OoTP when she beats the shit out of that dummy with her Reducto spell and when he compliments her Patronus (“Excellent, Ginny!”). You can definitely see that the movie producers, director, and whatnot are trying to get viewers to see her at least as powerful and contributive, if nothing else.

What Movie!Hinny positive moments did I miss that you appreciated?

[tuesdayintheservantshall]

2 downton 2 abbey: THOMAS THOUGHTS

I had to restrain myself from LITERALLY shouting “Thank God, it is my boy!” when Thomas first walked out in his brown suit. (Though there were some talkers in the movie and I vaguely regret not just going for it. But there were some other people who weren’t talking, so I wouldn’t want to add to the talking they heard.)

I was surprised by how emotional I got actually seeing that this time Fellowes had integrated Thomas’s romance plot with the rest of the story. I don’t often get emotional about steps forward in Representation(TM), but this one made my heart squeeze in my chest.

I really liked how they showed how fed up with Downton Thomas was. Would I also have enjoyed if they had gone another direction and had him building happiness there? Definitely! But this felt very real, and I was surprised to find how grateful I was that instead they made the full arc from season 6 to here be Thomas clinging to Downton out of desperation, then being optimistic to change how he relates to it, and then gradually discovering that it’s certainly better but it’s still the same basic place it was and that’s not a place that’s good for his thriving, even with his Bold New Attitude.

I uh, not to be overly whatever, but I feel really represented by that. I’ve developed a Bold New Attitude so damn many times because I believed that sticking it out and not “giving up because it’s imperfect” were the right choices or the healthy choices or the strong choices, and while I can’t say for sure that what I learned from doing that wasn’t worth it... what I learned from doing that was largely that it doesn’t work. And, perhaps more importantly, that other ways of continuing to try are better. A therapist once told me a really great reframing that I don’t goddamn remember the words of, but the gist of it was like “choosing to do/try one thing over another is as much about the thing you’re choosing as the thing you’re setting aside for it” definitely said way better but like. Okay in sum the idea that Thomas “gave up” by leaving Downton is complete anathema to me and it was the complete opposite of giving up, it was trying again.

That being said, it would be nice if, in addition to showing how frustrated he was with Downton, they showed him actively enjoying something about the filming process.

It would also be nice if they had given him a scene each with Baxter and the kids. (I only thought I’d care about the kids, but it turns out I cared about both.) Why Andy scene with kids instead of Thomas?! >:| >:| >:|

I didn’t hate Mrs. Hughes’s approach as much as when I watched it in the uploaded scenes. Big difference is, on the big screen her delivery of “And that’s... sad?” came across pretty differently. It felt more tentative, rather than almost... skeptical. Like perhaps she doesn’t want to assume that’s the sad thing or why. Which in turn made me parse the “brave but lonely” line as more comforting. (Though still, in my opinion, a bit scolding (not quite the right word but I still can’t think of the right one) - I think, honestly, if Mrs. Hughes is judging one of Thomas or Richard as making a worse choice, it isn’t Richard.)

While I still think that definitely wasn’t The Breakup Letter (if nothing else the line “I know it shouldn’t be (sad)” seems nonsensical if it is), I’m open to the interpretation that it was the... nail in the coffin letter. I think his sadness could be read either as sadness about the world and the lives men like him and Richard aren’t allowed to live, or as being about a final door being closed in regards to his and Richard’s romance. However I still think I prefer the first.

In context I actually do understand more why people were frustrated Guy wasn’t working class. The way he was specifically contrasted with Myrna, his ability to play the gentleman as opposed not just to her rudeness but her - rudeness. In the older sense. It made his middle-classness, and the distance between that and working class, seem more salient.

Also hm! Thomas’s reaction to the “Anything? That seems like a tall order,” now in context I’m not positive he understood it was flirty? Because he and the others had just been dealing with Myrna’s bossiness/rudeness, so it could have been an uh-oh moment of “Is he gonna be a Difficult Customer too?” rather than an uh-oh moment of worrying about how Guests go about their flirting. Of course, I still like the second interpretation better for reasons I’ve laid out. But I think they are both plausible.

I really liked Thomas’s hesitancy with Guy, that he takes a while to relax! More than I did, I think, in the collected clips. That being said... their romance was in fact the one plotline that did feel a bit rushed. I do wish we knew how long Guy was there - more than the initially estimated month, but by how much?

I still really like that they settled starting the “working friendship” part of things before starting the romance, to see them start both at once would feel really rushed, but I also still feel that I was cheated out of a kiss dammit.

And lastly: there were people in the theater who didn’t know Guy was into Thomas until the lapel touch. They “ooh”ed. Heh. I wonder how that reveal came across if you hadn’t realized.

[interxstitial]

mconlight​:

it’s not as though it matters that julien discovered haneul’s little secret, it’s how. frankly, julien would’ve discovered haneul’s (scientifically journaled) background soon enough, but it’s… haneul thought it would be nice for him to tell someone for a change. it would’ve been really nice to have someone get to know him organically, rather than though an internet search or news headline. haneul might be liked because… he’s haneul, and not because he’s a psychological rarity. oddity. freak.

“no,” he answers. it wouldn’t change anything, despite the way haneul sinks a little more where he sits. the creature in his lap still makes him a little nervous, but it’s gentle now; the weight of a small, fluffy thing in his lap is welcomed now. his hand is tentative as he pat pat pats the snowball’s forehead. no, haneul supposes. it doesn’t change anything. why does he feel so heavy? “are you asking because you care?” —it’s not malicious, truly. it’s honest— “or are you asking because you’re studying me?”

“i was just curious about your reaction,” comes the answer, easily. julien still has yet to lift his gaze from the novel, though he knows exactly how everything will play out. there is little joy in this tale, but there is a healthy dose of comedy among the ceaseless suffering of a blind optimist. it would do everyone well to remain wary of the company they keep. for that reason, he has nothing to fear in the presence of song haneul. “you might be surprised by the things people will say when you know too much.”

or maybe he wouldn’t, given his history. it doesn’t matter much to julien either way. what he does care about is the routine of their outings. kumo will grow restless from quiet affection and lazing about soon, so they’ll need to take a turn around the park to help her work out the energy. “i’m not studying you, haneul. you know i’m not a scientist.” taking note of the current page number, julien silently shuts his book and turns to regard haneul properly. a pleasant smile sits on his lips as he reaches to scratch behind one of kumo’s perky ears. “would you like something to eat? ice cream? sweet potatoes?”

[wonder-kid-pugh]

They are Always with Us - (Christen Press X reader)

Everyone was anxious this camp. Of course they were. The World Cup was only a few months away and roster selection was only around the corner. Which meant that every camp mattered. You needed to come and prove that you deserved a spot on that roster.

But that wasn't the only reason everyone was anxious

"Is she here yet?" Ali asks in a quiet whisper to the table which consisted of me, Ash, Pinoe, Becky, Alyssa and Alex.

Pinoe shakes her head slightly. "No. She and Tobin are arriving soon. Tobin flew out to her so she could keep her company and so they could come together".

Alex let's out a low sigh as she runs her hand through her hair. "Gosh. I wasn't sure if she would come or not. I don't know if I would be able to do it if I was in her shoes".

Ash stabs at her food as she shrugs, "I mean the World Cup is just around the corner. Every camp matters at this point".

"I know but we would all understand if she wouldn't come to this one. I mean she just lost her mom..." Alex says before trailing off at the moment end.

It was the sad reality of the situation. It's only been a month since Christen's mom passed away. We all knew how close she is with her family especially her mom. And to be honest we didn't know if she would come to this camp. It really killed us all to see the usually happy smiley and optimistic forward so sad. I remember attending the funeral with Tobin to offer support for Christen. It was crippling watching Christen leaning into her dad and sisters so devastated.

"Do we know who she's rooming with?" Ali asks again trying to move on the conversation quickly not wanting to dwell on the sad truth.

Everyone shakes their head and shrugs before I voice quietly. "I am". Everyone's head snaps to me in mild surprise. I guess they all thought she would be rooming with Tobin.

"Just make sure to give her the space she needs this camp. And maybe just keep an eye on her" Ali advises me with a small smile while I just nod. And with that the conversation swiftly moved onto talks of the World Cup.

After finishing up my food I throw away my trash before deciding to go to my room for a nap. But my eyes widen when I see one of my best friends standing there in front of me. "Tobin! Hi I didn't know you were here yet".

She gives me her signature big grinned smile as we both hug. "We only got here a short while ago. Was about to go get food. Christen said she was tired and went to take a nap in her room".

I nod as I bite my lip fiddling with my phone in my hands. "How is she?"

Tobin sighs letting out a huge huff of air as she scratches the back of her neck. "Didn't speak much to me on the flight or anything. I think she's still trying to come to terms with it. I think she just wants to busy herself now to distract herself". Tobin gets a cheeky smirk on her face, "She did say how she really wanted one of your big bear hugs though".

Of course Tobin knew about my crush on Christen. The three of us hang out all the time and caught me staring at Christen.... multiple times. That and Tobin was practically my sister of course she knew.

I can already feel my face burn as Tobin winks at me. "Shove it Tobs". She laughs a big belly laugh as she nodded her head towards the room. "Seriously though I think she would really like to see you".

I nod as I move towards my room, "Sure I'll see you later Tobs". She nods as she walks into the elevator, "See you later Lover girl".

I throw a middle finger back at her over my shoulder as I hear her cackle before the lift door's close. As I opened the door to our room I peak my head in, smiling when I see Christen was already passed out on the bed. But it's soon replaced with a frown as I see how exhausted she looked with subtle tear tracks on her face.

I move to plop down on my bed next to hers. But freeze when she starts to shuffle on the bed. She flips over onto her side so she's now facing my bed. A few loose strands falling into her face. I carefully and gently go to brush them out of her face and smile as I see her subconsciously smile before nuzzling her face into the pillow cuddling further into the blanket draped over her.

I climb back onto my bed ready to take my own nap. I stare at the ceiling for a bit. Usually if I was roomed with Christen I would be a nervous wreck. Worried I would let slip my feelings for her. But right now I can't focus on that. Right now she just needs me to be there for her. And as I drift off the last thought on my mind was that it didn't matter.

Cause Christen Press is way out of my league

---

I yawn tiredly as I stretch my arms over my head until there's a loud pop from my back. Media days sucked. They were always long and tiring.

And as much as I love Alex being paired with her both was awesome and sucked at the same time. Cause when I'm paired with her most of the questions get directed towards her with allows me to just sit quietly and answer a few questions as I wait for time to pass. But it almost meant everyone wanted to talk to her and so it always over ran and took forever.

So when I was finally released from media hell I couldn't wait to just curl up and crash for the night. Or maybe talk to Christen.

I would have been perfectly happy with either or.

Cause we haven't been able to fit in a proper conversation since she was already down in the meal room when I woke up from my nap. So apart from a small smile and a hug we haven't gotten the chance to really catch up.

As I'm digging around my sweatpants pocket for my room key I'm pulled from my task as I hear someone call me from behind. I turn to see Tobin and Mal walking towards me. "Hey guys".

Tobin grins at me, "Looks like Media has you dead on your feet". I just give her a blank 'really?' look causing the two to fall into giggles.

"Yeah well then your paired with Alex it seems like it's never ending media" I sigh. "Honestly I don't know how Alex does it. I'm pretty sure she answered the same question in about 6 different ways".

Mal scrunches her face in a small grimace. "Ouch. Media days are always kinda sucky. All we did was play Mario Kart all day".

I pout while the others once again laugh at my misfortune. "Lucky for some". My eyes flicker to my door as I swallow already feeling the heat from my cheeks. I clear my throat playing with my hands as I drop my voice slightly. "So uh have either of you seen Christen yet?"

Mal just shakes her head simply while Tobin gets a wicked grin on her face her eyes filling with mirth and glee. "No. But last I heard was that she was going to the roof".

When she winks at me I know I've been caught and rub the back of my neck shyly at Tobin let's out a big laugh while Mal looks between us confused. Swallowing back my embarrassment I shake my heat hoping the blush would die down quickly. "Uh I'm going to go check on her. Make sure she's okay".

But obviously Tobin sees through that as she winks at me. "Go get her Tiger".

I narrow my eyes at her and slap the back of her head as I walk past get towards the stairs. But wince and speed up when I hear Mal.

"Wait what?"

It takes a second before I hear Mal gasp and release a small "No!" Along with Tobin's hearty laugh. I mentally groan at the fact now Mal knows about my crush on Christen. Mentally working it out in my head how long is it going to be before the rest of the youngins as well as the entire team finds out.

Many many many stairs later and I'm finally on the roof. But now we come to the difficult part. What many people don't really know is.

I may have a 'slight' fear of heights

So when I look to see Christen leaning over what looks to me as a really rickety railing I can already feel my heart start to pound and I haven't even left the doorway.

So instead on focusing on how high we're up at the moment cause the thought alone makes me feel dizzy, I focus on Christen. How she has her arms crossed leaning on the silver metal railing. How she's wearing a pair of shorts and a loose and baggy shirt. Which upon further inspection I realize is mine. I smile thinking how many of my clothes she must had stored away somewhere.

Any time I bring it up she would always unapologetically smile at me as she wrapped her arms around herself and argue that my clothes were always warmer. But that's probably to do with the fact that I'm taller than her and my clothes are always bigger and baggy on her which makes her ten times cuter.

She had her long curly hair tied back in a ponytail keeping her hair out of her face and splayed out on her back. Except for these small strands near her face which are flying around due to the wind.

For a split second her elegance and beauty had me in such awe that I forgot about my fear

"Are you okay?"

I instantly curse myself out in my head. Of course she isn't okay. How stupid could I be. I physically wince at my stupidity but Christen just looks at me from over her shoulder and sends me a small smile before looking back out over the railing.

I gulp and pull at the neck of my jersey hoping that would help me breathe but it doesn't. Swallowing hard I take tentative steps towards Christen. Once I make it beside her I grip the railing hard with what could only be described as hanging on for life or death grip. With the railing in both hands I force myself not to look down and just breathe.

I only open my eyes when I see Christen sigh and step back still holding the railing but moving so that she now has her chin on her arms against the railing peering up at me through her eyelashes

Oh sweet Jesus

"How was media day?" Her voice is soft and light but still slightly strained.

I shrug being as brave to tap my thumbs against the railing in an attempt to distract myself. I fail. "You know. The usual. Long. I just let Alex do the talking mostly. Which is easy cause who would want to talk to me with her in the room?"

I meant it as a joke but obviously she doesn't find it funny as she frowns at me. "Your still important too Y/n/n".

I blush and make the mistake of looking out over the railing and then settle for looking at my shoes. "I...I know Chris. Just...". I sigh, "Who would want to talk to me when you have Alex Morgan in the room?"

I can see from the corner of my eye that she pouts at my statement before leaning her head against my bicep making me tense. "Well no offense to Alex but I much rather talk to you all day than Alex". She gives me a cute smile as she looks at me sideways. "Especially if it means I get more if those special bear hugs".

I bite my lip and look down but in doing so I accidentally ended up looking over the railing and down all the way to the ground. I felt like I wanted to keel over and just barf. My vision was starting to go wavey. The only thing keeping me upright was the fact that I knew Christen had other things on her mind to be putting up with my shit and the fact I was holding onto the railing so tight I was surprised there wasn't a dent in it.

There's a small silence. It was peaceful. The only noise there was the wind and the slight flapping of out clothes. And while I was trying to figure out what was best to say I guess Christen could see right through me.

"I miss her" she says softly distracting me from the urge to spill my guts over the railing. Her voice cracked slightly at the end. Accompanied by a tiny sniffle at the end. And I could see her look up and blink rapidly no doubt fighting back tears. "I miss her a lot".

I frown as I watch the person I love so much start to crack and crumble slowly. I open my mouth hoping to provide some sort of comfort but nothing comes out.

I sigh as I run my hand over my hair before I gently put my hand on hers. "I know Chris. I know". I close my eyes and take a deep breath before deciding to disclose something that not many people know about. "Have I ever told you about my family?"

I wait as I watch her think for a second before shaking her head. I dig around in my pocket for my wallet before I pull out a small picture and hand it to her. I smile as I watch her handle it so delicately. "I know everyone thinks Tobin and her family are my family, which I suppose is kinda true. Cause in College Tobin and her family practically adopted me into theirs". I point at the picture. "But that's my real family".

I can see Christen furrow her eyebrows in confusion as she looks at all the different people in the picture.

I look at the picture over her shoulder and smile fondly remembering the day it was taken. "This was taken the day I got my first call up to camp". I take a deep breath before I look away knowing what her reaction is going to be. Cause everyone has the same reaction when I tell them. "I came back from practice one day to see the entire orphanage had thrown me a party to celebrate".

And just as I expected her head pops up in surprise and her eyes widen

I can see how her mouth opens and closes several times but no words come out. I mean I understand that's usually the reaction I get from people. That and pity.

I shake my head smiling softly at her. "I didn't tell you to get sympathy or anything like that. It wasn't that bad. I mean it had it's moments and money was pretty tight most of the time but I have pretty awesome brothers and sisters". I wait a second as she continues examining the picture. "Did you know your mom knew?" I ask quietly.

Now that gets a reaction as her head snaps towards me and she stands up properly. "Really?"

I nod with a smile. "Yeah. Once I told her I wasn't related to Tobin she asked where my parents where and I told her the truth". I chuckle a bit as I rub my thumb over her knuckles. "She didn't treat me differently at all. All she did was hug me and she always invited me over for the holidays". My smile drops slightly, "I wish I had taken up at least one of those offers now. She truly was amazing".

"She never told me" she whispers quietly. She looks as if she's replaying all the conversations she had with her mom trying to think if she ever mentioned it.

I squeeze her hand. "I asked her not to tell you. I always thought she would but I guess she kept her word".

Christen looks down. "It was always important to her. Keeping her word".

I smile brushing some of those fly away hairs from her face and behind her ear. "It just made her even more incredible than she already was".

Christen looks down as she clasps her hands on a long beaded necklace. It takes me a second before I recognize it to be her mother's. "I really miss her".

And it seems that was what breaks the dam as her voice breaks and tears start to leak from her eyes. She starts to curl in on herself before she burrows into me. I hug her with one arm the other still holding tightly to the railing. But as I feel her tears start to wet my shirt I chide myself and ignore my fear and throw my arms around her holding her securely into my chest. I whisper small coos and reassurances in her ear as her sobs eventually start to die down.

As she stops crying she nuzzles her face into my chest making me let out a content smile. "Sorry".

I rub my hand in small circles on her back as I squeeze her tighter into me. "It's okay. Nothing to be sorry for". She looks up at me gives me a teary smile before her hands stop on my chest and she scrunches her face. "Y/n/n? Your heart is pounding. Like it's about to jump out of your chest?"

At that reminder my right hand goes back to clutching the railing while the other rubs the back of my neck sheepishly almost like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Well" I stutter. "I might...kinda...have a fear of heights and we're really high right now and-"

Christen's eyes widen before she chuckles and takes my hand pulling me away from the railing and back to the center of the roof well away from the edge. I can already feel my vision getting better. "Why didn't you say so? You would have comforted me just as well from here".

With red cheeks, I shrug shyly scuffing my shoe against the ground only looking up when Christen giggles.

"Well that was really sweet of you Y/n" she smiles before she bites her lip. "Honestly I thought it was maybe... because of me". She scoffs quietly. "Stupid right?"

I blink at her owlishly trying to register her words before they finally click. Did she just....?

"What? No! I-I mean I..." I stop stumbling over my words and take a deep breath as I see her smile clearly amused at me. "I mean yes my heart was beating fast because of how high we are up. But I do like you and if we weren't this high up and there was a threat of me getting throwing my guts up right now you would definitely have my heart racing. I just always thought you were way out of my league. I mean your....you".

She bites her lip as she smiles and shakes her head at me as if I'm telling some bad corny joke. I gulp hard as she steps closer to me as I stay frozen in my place. "You never give yourself enough credit Y/n. I never understand how you can't see how amazing you are. I mean you came all the way up here, even though your terrified of heights, just to check on me". I see her eyes flicker down to my lips, "I think that's amazingly selfless of you".

And before my mind can catch up she leans in and kisses me softly at first as her hands lean up again my shoulders. As my mind slowly starts to comprehend what's happening my hands slowly move to her waist as I kiss back.

She pulls back only to come back for another kiss moving even closer so there's practically no space between us. Her hands move down and untuck my jersey from my joggers. I gasp as the kiss starts to get more intense and I have to hold myself back from letting a moan slip through my lips. Everything is better than I could have ever imagined. But while every part of me screams to let this continue. I know I can't keep letting this happen.

I pull back breathing heavy and I can see Christen inch in for another but using my grip on her hips I hold her back. Her eyes furrow and scrunch in confusion and concern as she searches my face for any tells.

I sigh screwing my eyes closed for a second trying to prepare myself. Not wanting to fall for those green eyes before I open my eyes. "Chris I would love nothing more for us to continue this. Like you don't know how much this pains me". I look into her eyes sincerely, "But I know your not in the right place right now. Your still getting over your mom and probably stressed about the World Cup and everything".

I can see her features ease at that but she's still slightly hesitant. "I promise you I would love nothing more to keep doing this. I just want to give you a little time to make sure this is something you want and not because your sad and want something to distract you. I don't want to take advantage of you like that".

With that Christen nods and smiles while on sigh glad I was able to convince her of my intentions. "Your too good Y/n".

I just smile down at her as I take my hand. "I just want what's best for you Chris....even if you decide that isn't me".

I move her hand to my chest directly over my heart. "But just so you know that I was being serious". I let her feel how fast my heart was beating. Even faster than when I was over at the ledge. "See? No where near the edge and you will have my heart racing. All systems were ready to go. And when I get back to our room I'll definitely need a cold shower".

I smile brightly as Christen bursts out in giggles trying to hide them behind her hand. "Gosh you make me laugh even when I think it's not possible anymore".

"I will make a fool out of myself everyday if it means I get to hear you laugh" I tell her honestly giving her hand a small squeeze. She smiles and gives me one small chaste kiss.

I smile into the kiss before we break apart and lean my forehead against hers. "Just remember. The ones who love us never really leave us". I point to her heart, "They'll always be in here".

She opens her mouth and scrunches her nose at me trying and failing to hide a smile blooming on her face. "Did you just...."

But before she could finish I nod. "Quote Harry Potter? Yes. Yes I did".

She giggles at me and gives me one last peck before pulling me by the hand back to our room.

"C'mon you dork I want some special bear hugs when we get back to our room".

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 24, Post #1 by @be11atrixthestrange

Title: I Love Wine Author/Artist: Be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: In Vino Veritas / Songfic (Difficult by Peppermint Ollie) Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): N/A

(Please note that one lyric has been changed - "Football" is now "Quaffle")

I Love Wine

You can talk to girls who aren't me. 

It's fine, no, I said it's fine. It's not like you're just mine

I'm not jealous,

wait...

Are you still mad at me?

When Hermione opens the hospital wing doors late one March evening, she pokes her head into the room to look before entering, scanning for anyone she doesn't want to see.

It's become a habit lately, especially knowing she might run into Ron. A true extrovert, Ron is never alone. It used to be Hermione always glued to his hip, but not anymore. Nowadays, it's Lavender, and Ron hasn't spoken to Hermione in months. Usually, her run-ins with Ron are accidental, but not this time. After nearly losing him to a bottle of mead, she'll do anything to get him back in her life.

As she had assumed, the Hospital Wing is empty save for Ron, who's sprawled out on a twin-sized bed. Madam Pomfrey has left for the night, and it's after visiting hours, so Lavender wouldn't be here anyway. In fact, Hermione shouldn't be, either, but school rules seem less important now.

She approaches Ron, noting that the hospital wing beds are too short for his lanky frame, and his pale, freckled feet dangle off the edge. The blankets don't reach that far, and goosebumps are forming on his skin. He must be cold. She almost reaches out to tug the blanket over his feet but stops herself. It's a loving gesture, but in the wrong way. It's definitely something Mrs. Weasley would do, and the last thing she wants to be associated with is his mother. Seeing him with another girl has made at least one thing crystal clear — her feelings for Ron are far from familial.

Hermione's gaze travels from Ron's feet to his head, cocked to the side, halfway on a pillow. His neck is bent, his mouth open, and each exhale brings a faint, raspy snore. His entire positioning looks so awkward. She tries to take comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, proof that he's alive, but even still, she can't seem to shake the fear that she's lost him forever.

What if she has? Just because he's alive doesn't mean he'll want her back in his life, not after the way she's treated him. He clearly doesn't need her; he has Lavender. Hermione's jaw tightens at the thought of her pretty, flirty, popular roommate, Ron's girlfriend. Four months of insisting that she's fine with their relationship, and no, she's not jealous have caught up to her. Her throat tightens, and her eyes sting, threatening to cry. Again.

Ron's breathing remains steady, his eyes locked shut, and it seems unlikely that he'll wake up. It was probably a stupid idea to come; he needs his rest. If she wakes him, he might be even angrier at her.

But fresh on her mind is the memory of his first moment of consciousness after being poisoned. The words that slipped from his mouth…

Er-my-nee.

He was dazed and confused, and hardly aware of what he was saying. But it had to mean something, right?

Hermione takes a seat in the chair next to his bed. She'll wait just a few moments to see if he wakes. It would be worth it to hear him say her name again.

She glances toward her bookbag, a bulging puddle of canvas on the floor. Wedged between her quill set and a stack of textbooks is a fresh bottle of wine, a gift from Dobby, plucked right from the kitchen. The bottle's nose pokes out of the top of her bag. Hermione distinctly remembers her anxious trip to the Hospital Wing as she tried to keep the bottle hidden under her arm, moving slowly and cautiously to prevent the liquid from sloshing around and alerting the authorities to her contraband. She could have lost her Prefects' badge if she had been caught with it. Even though it was offered to her by a Hogwarts employee, she should have denied it. Dobby isn't exactly keen on school rules. Or aware of them, for that matter.

And why would Ron want to drink wine when he was almost killed by a bottle of mead? She hadn't been thinking straight. She should just go back to the common room...

An abrupt snore pulls Hermione from her thoughts. It's followed by silence, and Hermione looks tentatively at Ron's face to see if he's woken up. His eyes are still closed, and his mouth agape, a glistening river of drool runs down his chin. She smiles— years ago, she would have thought it was gross, but now, she wouldn't hesitate to wipe it off with her thumb. Oh, how things change.

She should stop staring. How would he react to know someone was watching him sleep?

Unless he's used to it. The knot in her stomach coils further at the thought of Lavender and Ron. Has she ever watched him sleep? They're always kissing in the corridor, entangled on the common room sofa, tugging each other down the hallway in search of empty classrooms. She probably has.

Hermione reaches for the bottle of wine in her bag, if only for a label to read, something to get her mind off of Lavender sharing Ron's bed, giggling as he snores, wiping away a trail of saliva with her thumb, or even worse, her lips.

"Hermione?"

Ron's raspy voice pulls her back, and her cheeks sting with heat. It's not the drowsy, longing, 'Er-My-Nee' from before. This time his tone conveys confusion. Disapproval. He's probably wondering why she's here instead of Lavender.

She chances a smile at him, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his piercing blue eyes.

"Hi, Ron," she says, forcing a cheerful, optimistic tone. "I—I brought us some wine."

Ron's eyes narrow as he studies her. He's still mad at her, isn't he? He's going to tell her to leave and go get Lavender instead. She clutches the bottle tighter when it begins to slip through her sweating palms.

Then, unexpectedly, a grin breaks across Ron's face, and Hermione exhales the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"As long as it's not mead."

Let's stay in tonight. Just you and me and a bottle of wine

We can talk about our feelings; everything will be just fine

"I promise it's not mead!" she says, almost too eagerly.

"Good. Don't think I can ever drink mead again! Hand it here?" Ron reaches for the wine.

He's smiling, looking almost giddy to see her. It doesn't make sense. He's so relaxed, as though they haven't spent the last four months fighting. How?

Ron pops the cork with a nonverbal spell, and Hermione lifts an eyebrow at his wandwork. Has she ever complimented him on his charms ability? She makes a mental note to do so more often — considering that they become friends again, of course.

Ron brings the tip of the bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig. Hermione's cheeks redden at the sight, and she hopes he doesn't notice.

He swallows a mouthful of wine with a heavy gulp and hands the bottle back to Hermione.

"You don't mind sharing?"

"Why not? It's just spit."

She prickles at his response. The Ron she knew, pre-Lavender, wouldn't have had such a nonchalant attitude toward spit. Sharing a bit of saliva must be no big deal to him anymore. Great.

Hoping her blatant jealousy isn't written all over her face, Hermione takes a sip, disappointed by its bland, almost metallic taste. She was hoping she'd be able to taste him.

But the wine warms her right up. Hermione doesn't drink often, never, really, and she knows she'll feel the effects quickly. Maybe too quickly.

"So. We have a lot to talk about," says Ron, as soon as she finishes her sip.

Or maybe, not quickly enough.

She nods and looks down at her hands. He's looking down too — she doesn't have to watch him to know that his eyes aren't on her anymore.

A few moments pass in silence, and Hermione figures she'll have to speak up first. How much does she have to explain? How much should she reveal? It seems like the best possible time to share, to tell him everything she almost said over the last four months. Everything she should have said before. They're alone here, why not clear the air?

She takes a deep breath. "I asked you to Slughorn's party as my date, and you said yes."

Ron's scoff confirms what she feared — her statement came off as an accusation. She hadn't meant it that way.

"I know that now," he says.

"But you didn't before?"

"No," he says, reaching for the bottle. "You're pretty subtle. Until you're not." He flashes his forearms at her, still covered with scars from her canary attack.

Her eyes sting with tears again, and she's suddenly sick to her stomach. "I shouldn't have set those birds on you."

"True. You shouldn't have."

No 'sorry's' or 'I forgive you's', just facts, not feelings. It's how they've always communicated, and it's still infuriating.

With a deep breath, Hermione continues, "I was angry at you for kissing Lavender."

A feeling. Not a fact. Maybe he'll follow suit.

"Why?"

Is he really going to make her say it?

"Because I was jealous, Ron. And jealousy makes people do irrational things."

"Well, don't do it again."

Is he asking her not to set birds on him again? "I won't! If you don't—"

She snaps her mouth shut. She almost told him not to kiss Lavender again. She can't ask that of him.

"Don't what?"

"Nothing," she says hastily, burying her expression with another sip of wine.

She watches as a smug smile spreads across Ron's face. "You were going to ask me not to kiss Lavender again, weren't you?"

Hermione keeps her mouth shut and passes the bottle back to him.

"You know it's not fair to ask that."

"I didn't ask that," she says, her jaw stiff. "I stopped myself."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "So you're still jealous?"

"Ron, stop." He's just gloating now. "Let's not talk about Lavender. I just want to be friends again. I'm not asking for anything more."

"Don't you want to know why I kissed her?"

"No—"

"Because I was also jealous."

His answer hits her like a brick. He was jealous. Does that mean…?

"Why were you jealous?"

That's until we start throwing knives. It's amazing how time flies.

Hermione waits for Ron to answer, watching patiently as his cheeks turn crimson. His eyes flit between her and the bottle.

"I was jealous because Ginny said you snogged Krum."

He averts his gaze when he speaks.

"She did?" asks Hermione. "That was two years ago."

Ron shrugs. "Made me jealous."

"So that's why you kissed Lavender?"

Ron nods.

"Even though I had just asked you out on a date?"

"Hermione, I didn't know you meant it as a date! I assumed it was a pity invite."

"You should have talked to me!" she protests. "I was completely blindsided."

"I should have told you how I felt?"

"Yes!"

"Why? You didn't! You just hinted at it, then fucking attacked me with birds for misreading your nonexistent signals!"

Hermione was about to respond, but his retort snaps her mouth shut. He's right. It doesn't matter who started it, but she's the one who got violent. As she searches for a response, their argument pauses, and the air thickens with tension. She can feel Ron's eyes boring into her again, and she pointedly looks away. Why can't she just swallow her pride and say she's sorry?

It's not that easy.

"Maybe I'm better off with Lavender," he says, barely an audible whisper. "She treats me well."

Hermione's heart sinks into her stomach, and her eyes water again. She looks away, willing herself not to cry in front of Ron. She's pushing him away again, and she knows it. His implication cuts deep — he deserves someone who treats him well, and Hermione doesn't.

She can change that; he just has to trust her. But that's a lot to ask, isn't it?

"You're right. Maybe you are better off with her," she says, dejected.

'Cause you're more difficult than trying to fold a fitted sheet

And I'm more difficult than trying to throw a quaffle (at least for me)

You know without you I'd be lost

To her surprise, he grins again. "So that's what you want? For me to stay with Lavender."

Does he really need her to answer?

He hands her the wine, and she stares at it, wondering if another sip would benefit her. She's already feeling the effects.

Eh, why not? She takes another generous sip, enjoying its warm trail down her throat.

"It's a simple question, Hermione."

"Is that what you want?" she asks.

He narrows his eyes and smirks at her, a dangerous combination. With Ron, there's a fine line between anger and flirting, or at least, she thought there was. Before Lavender.

But, Lavender's not in the hospital wing drinking wine with Ron. Hermione is.

She bites her lip to keep from grinning.

"No. It's not." He blurts his answer as though the words have been trapped, waiting to escape. His ears turn pink at his admission, and he eyes the wine in accusation. With a shrug, he continues. "You know what I want."

She's buzzing from the wine — the muscles in her face soften, and her pent-up anxiety about the approaching topic seems to melt away. It feels like there's a clump of wriggling flobberworms in her stomach.

At least, she'd be more willing to play dumb if it saves her the heartache of being wrong. Why can't he just say it?

"I think we want the same thing," she says, summoning her Gryffindor courage, "but I want to hear you say it."

Ron lets out a groan. "Is every conversation we have going to be this difficult?"

Cause you're more difficult than peeling onions without crying

Or pulling on freshly washed skinny jeans

No, I'm not lying; I'd be lost without you

Despite his groan, his shoulders are relaxed, he's sporting a goofy grin, and his answer is clear and direct, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Thank Merlin, the wine is hitting him too. "I want you."

I want you. The words are like music to her ears.

"Still?" she asks. "Even after the birds?" If the roles were reversed, she'd definitely be holding a grudge.

"I don't understand it, but yeah. Still."

She reaches for the bottle — she'll need another dose of courage before continuing. Especially since his next question is easy to guess.

"So," he starts, suddenly sheepish, "do you want me too?"

Hermione sets the bottle down between them and tries to mimic his serious stare from before, but she can't stop from smiling. "Yes. Still."

Silence overtakes the space between them, and Hermione can almost taste the tension in the air. What next? Her daydreams never got this far.

"Then why are you still sitting there?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

He inches to the side and motions to the space between them in clarification.

Oh, she understood.

His invitation is so tempting, and she almost gives in and crawls into the bed with him, but something stops her. Lavender. He's still someone else's boyfriend.

"Because you have a girlfriend."

"I'm not so sure I do anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Do you really need to ask why, Hermione?" At her confused expression, he continues, "or should I call you Er-My-Nee."

"Lavender heard about that?"

Ron nods, and Hermione knows she should feel sorry for her but… she doesn't. Not one bit.

"So?" he repeats, glancing down at the space beside him.

Hermione rises to her feet and crawls onto the bed, very aware that she's holding her breath. The bed is so small that she can't put a few inches of space between them, so she settles against his shoulder. He reaches for her hand, and their fingers intertwine.

"Is this okay?" asks Ron, caressing her hand with his fingers.

"Yes."

It's another moment she's imagined for years — holding Ron's hand. Not in a 'let me help you up' kind of way, but in a loving, flirtatious, non-platonic way. She's surprised by how easy it is; how comfortably she fits there.

Hermione rests her head on Ron's shoulder, and the bottle of wine in his other hand catches her eye. If only they had shared that bottle four months ago, things could be so different. She pushed him away, and he pushed right back. She could have lost him, yet somehow, he's still right here.

The hurt is still here too. She can tell by the way his breath is shallow and anxious, and the stiffness of his arm against hers that he won't kiss her tonight. Even holding hands is clunky, awkward, and almost too much, and definitely too soon. Yet somewhere in all its dysfunction, it's perfect.

You're for me and I'm for you, you know it's true

The best dysfunctional team that this world has ever seen

The bottle is nearly empty — they've kept drinking but stopped talking. She only notices the stark silence between them when she can hear her own breathing and grows self-conscious that he can hear it too.

She opens her mouth to speak just to fill the silence but freezes. Her lips are too loose from the alcohol, and she better not say anything. He doesn't need to know what's really on her mind. Three little words could push him away, and she just got him back.

It's definitely too soon for that truth.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she asks.

He lets go of her hand and wraps his free arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to lean more of her weight against him. "I love wine."

Hermione laughs. His tone is playful. Knowing. Her stomach flips when he gently squeezes her shoulder as he says 'wine'. If she were sober, she wouldn't dare read too much into those words. Tomorrow, she'll probably wake up and second guess this whole conversation, but right now?

"I love wine, too."

And I love you

[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

[cinnaminsvga]

body of mine | Seokjin (M)

→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…

{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}

→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut → warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink?? → words: 16.9K → a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie​ PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)

Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.

It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.

You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.

You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.

“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.

“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.

“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.

Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.

You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.

Speaking of learning to shift—

“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”

“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.

“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.

“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–

Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.

“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”

“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”

“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”

Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”

You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…

You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.

“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.

The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”

You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.

You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”

Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.

He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”

Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.

And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.

x x x x x

[December 3, 11:39 PM]

Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.

Usually.

Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:

“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.

Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)

“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”

You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.

Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.

Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.

“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”

You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.

“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”

“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.

“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”

Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”

He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.

He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.

You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.

You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?

“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.

When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.

Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.

“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?

Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.

from: joonieboobie to: y/n

hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO

Shit.

You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…

“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–

No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?

“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?

“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?

You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.

A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.

x x x x x

[December 4, 9:14 AM]

It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.

“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”

Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.

Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.

He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.

Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.

You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.

Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.

“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.

With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.

You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.

Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.

Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.

It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.

“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.

“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”

At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”

With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.

“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.

You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”

There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”

You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”

Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”

You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”

“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”

Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”

“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.

“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”

“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.

Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”

You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”

For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.

You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.

He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”

What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…

“Seokjin—”

“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”

You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.

Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.

Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”

“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”

“Such as?”

He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.

“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.

When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.

“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.

“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.

“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.

“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”

“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”

You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”

But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”

You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!

“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.

It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.

Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”

“And why is that?” you say lamely.

“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.

“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.

“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”

After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.

“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.

“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”

That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.

Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”

“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.

“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.

Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”

“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”

Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”

“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”

“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”

For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”

“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”

“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.

Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”

“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”

“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”

You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”

Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.

“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”

“I’m not even wearing any socks.”

“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”

Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”

Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass. 

(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)

“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.

“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”

“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.

Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.

“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”

“Don’t you mean mutual pining?” 

“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”

“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”

“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)

After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings. 

“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?

You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”

“Why not?”

“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.

“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.

“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”

“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”

You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”

“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."

Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"

"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.

As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)

You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.

"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?

“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.

You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically. 

You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.

When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.

"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."

"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."

"You literally just complained though?"

You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."

Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."

"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.

"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"

"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.

"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."

"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."

Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"

"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.

No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?

"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"

You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.

"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."

"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."

"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.

You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.

By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.

"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.

"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.

"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.

"Really? How does it work?" 

"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"

Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"

"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."

"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."

To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.

When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."

Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"

"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."

"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.

It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.

Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.

“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever. 

Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.

“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.

"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)

He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.

"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight.  "You think I'm cute, too."

Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.

“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.

“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.

He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.

I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.

He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.

Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.

“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.

“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”

Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”

You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”

His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”

“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”

Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”

“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”

You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.

“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.

“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.

It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”

Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”

“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”

Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something. 

You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”

You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”

“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”

“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.

“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.

“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”

“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.

“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”

“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.

“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”

“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”

“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”

“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”

You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”

“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”

You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.

It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.

There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.

Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life. 

Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.

“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.

“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”

“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”

He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.

“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.

You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.

(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)

With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere. 

“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.

“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”

“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”

“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.

“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”

Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”

You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”

Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”

“Squeak!”

You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.

You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.

“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.

You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”

You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.

“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.

“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.

“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.

You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.

Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”

“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.

“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”

When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.

“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”

“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.

“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”

“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.

You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.

Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—

“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.

“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”

“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”

The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.

“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”

“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.

“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”

Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”

“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.

You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.

“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”

“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”

He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.

“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”

“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”

“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”

Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.

“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”

“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.

A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.

You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want. 

“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.

He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”

“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”

“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”

Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.

The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.

“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”

“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”

Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.

You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”

He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it. 

He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.

“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.

“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.

Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.

“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”

You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”

“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”

“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want. 

There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.

“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”

It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.

Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.

“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.

You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.

“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”

“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”

You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.

Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”

You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.

Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”

“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”

“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”

“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”

You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all... 

I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”

Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.

[ladyfogg]

King of Wands

King of Wands

Fic Summary: When you first started with the show, Jimmy asked for a reading but you turned him away because it wasn’t time. Now that he’s sitting in front of you and the cards are all laid out, it’s time to tell him exactly what his future holds. 

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jimmy Darling/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just, lots of smut. 

A/N: Look, thought of this and wrote it in the last two hours. Just needed to get this gem out of my brain. 

You’re a reader. 

A tarot reader that is. 

It started when you were a child and your grandmother passed away. She gifted you the set that belonged to her mother and hers before that. Your mother never bought into tarot cards and had refused the family heirloom. The moment those cards were placed in your hand, however, everything changed. 

You were obsessed, pouring over the little instructional book day after day, memorizing each card and what they meant. It wasn’t until you performed your first reading that you realized the obsession went far deeper than you ever realized. 

You began to see the cards just by looking at someone. You couldn’t explain it. It was subtle at first, just the card name floating through your mind. But then it became visual, sort of like when photographs were overlaid over each other. You knew exactly what card you would pull before you even started shuffling. And you were always right. 

It scared people. 

At first, you were labeled a fraud; shamed for a gift you had no control over. Then you were hated. People tended to get a bit cranky when you revealed their spouse was cheating on them or that you knew about the little money laundering scheme they had going on. But they were furious when you told them the depths of their character. They didn’t like when you peered into their soul and made them face the parts of themselves they kept locked away. 

One day, they stormed your house, ready to run you out of town. You barely had time to grab your grandmother’s cards before fleeing into the darkness. 

That’s when you met Elsa. And everything changed. See, she had heard about your gifts and had come to check you out herself. She was The Moon. You saw it the second you laid your eyes on her. Fear and anxiety, but full of intuition and illusions of grandeur. You liked her and you knew that you would be safe with her and her show. Though, you warned her that if she didn’t deal with her past trauma it would come back to bite her in the ass. 

She laughed at your boldness. 

That first night you slept more peacefully than you had in years. You were given a trailer, one that would act as your home and your workspace. For the first time in your life, you had a home that was all yours and you cherished it just as much as your grandmother’s cards. The house you lived in before with your parents never felt like home. Not since you started reading cards. 

You didn’t meet everyone until the next morning at breakfast. Bette and Dot certainly were an interesting pair. Dot seemed indifferent to your appearance, Bette was nice and overly curious about your cards. Ma Petite was the sweetest person you ever met and Eve was an Amazonian vision. You met the others as well, but they were the ones who took you under their wings and showed you the ropes. 

Well, them, and Jimmy. 

Jimmy Darling. 

From the moment he walked into the food tent you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those deep brown eyes, curly hair, strong arms...he drove you to distraction. At least, that’s what you assumed it was when you didn’t see a card for him. You saw one for everyone else. In fact, the others insisted you read for them so they could see what you could do. 

You humored them, mostly because you wanted to impress your new friends but also because you wanted the practice. 

“What do you see?” Bette asked as drew three cards and laid them out before her and Dot. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bette,” Dot said with her signature firm voice. “Tarot reading ain’t a skill. These people are just very perspective and use the cards as a way to swindle you.”

“You’re wrong and right,” you told her, still staring at your cards. “It’s a skill but most people do use it for personal gain. I however have nothing to gain other than getting these damn pictures out of my head.”

“What sort of pictures?” Bette asked. 

“The cards. I can look at a person and know exactly what card I’m going to pull.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You tap the first card. “The Sun Reversed. Means overly optimistic and feeling down. You need to let your inner child come out and play. Have some fun in your life, honey.”

Bette smiled while Dot rolled her eyes. “I try,” she said. “But she won’t let me have any fun.”

“If I let you have the fun you want, we’d get pregnant,” Dot said. 

You chuckled as you kept looking. “Next card is The Lovers Reversed. You don’t love yourself or respect yourself.”

At that, Bette's face fell and she pursed her lips together. 

“You’re facing a tough choice with significant consequences,” you continued, now looking directly at her and not the cards. "Stop punishing yourself. Whatever you did, those consequences are behind you now, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened.”

You tap the last card, still maintaining eye contact as you watch the card of Death appear behind Bette's head like the backdrop on a stage. “Something will be coming to an end. There’s a transition on the horizon and if you don’t deal with what’s in here,” you tap her chest where her heart is. “Then you’ll be blind to the opportunities in front of you.”

“Horseshit,” Dot muttered. “All of that was general. Nothing specific that would apply to either of us.”

“Those cards weren’t for you,” you told her, tearing your eyes away from Bette who was chewing on her nail in thought. “Those were for Bette. I don’t draw cards for people who don’t want them.”

“Well fine then, draw one for me,” Dot said, her voice tinged with challenge. “What card do you see for me?”

“Five of Swords.” You draw the next card in the deck, laying the Five of Swords right in front of her. “The recent battle you fought cost you more than you realize. It cost you trust, respect, and dignity. Moving forward is going to be more difficult than you thought. You should probably decide whether your point of view is so important to you that you’re willing to put your closest and ONLY relationship in jeopardy.”

Dot is unimpressed while Bette covers her smile with her hand. “Obviously you stacked the deck,” Dot accused. “I bet if another card were chosen you’d say something completely different.”

“Well, obviously. But another card won’t be chosen.” You shrugged and gathered all the cards, tucking them back into the deck which you then handed to her. “Shuffle yourself.”

With Bette's help, Dot shuffled the deck, twisting cards multiple times and being a lot rougher with the ancient set than you were comfortable with. You winced at the way she treated them, making a mental note to buy a set that your clients could handle instead of using your personal one. 

Dot slammed the deck down on the table and waited. You smirked and gestured for her to draw a card. 

The Five of Swords gleamed in the light of the tent. Dot's face hardened and she abruptly stood. “We have practice to get to. We don’t have time to sit around listening to a charlatan,” she declared. 

Unfazed, you scooped up the deck and gently shuffled. “Whatever you say, grumpy.”

She stalked off, barely giving Bette a chance to wave goodbye. 

Jimmy took her place at the seat across from you. he looked incredibly amused. “Day one and you’re already making friends,” he teased. “That was some reading. I saw the others you did too. Seems like you know your stuff.”

You smiled at him but your smile faded when you suddenly realized, you couldn’t see any card. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. All you saw was him. 

Jimmy placed his hands on the table expectantly. “Alright, tarot reader. Tell me my future.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” You had never met someone who didn’t have a card and you suddenly worried that something was wrong with you. 

“Ah, hey, that’s not fair,” he said. “I deserve a reading just like everyone else. Come on, doll face. What do you see?”

You considered the situation as you shuffled the card, with such ease and skill it was like the cards were floating between your hands and fingers. “It’s not your time for a reading,” you declared. “Sorry, Jimmy. Maybe some other time.”

As you stood up, Jimmy leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “Playing hard to get, sugar? That’s alright. I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

The circus became the place where you finally belonged. Everyone became family and over the years, your talent and act grew. Soon, your grandmother’s cards were only one of the twelve sets you used. You did most of your work while people were waiting for the show to start. Your trailer was set just next to the main tent so those in line or waiting could come in for a reading. You made decent money too, which of course went right back into the circus to help everyone. 

Your powers grew as your act did. Soon you could see and learn things about someone that you couldn’t possibly know otherwise. The cards helped get things started but once you were deep in a reading, everything else came right from your own mind. 

Every time someone tried to find a way to indicate you were cheating them, you made changes. At first, they said it was because you stacked the deck, so you started having them pick which one they wanted you to use. Then they said you cheated because you could see which one they picked right away and somehow used that the cheat, so you wrapped every deck in the same identical black silk cloth. 

The table was left bare. No books or anything else during readings. You didn’t need the books anymore anyway since you knew each deck by heart. The person would sit and you saw the images just as clearly as you saw them. 

Except for Jimmy. He was the one and only person who never had a card. It annoyed you but eventually, you came to cherish it. Because when you two were together, all you saw was him. You never got distracted by the pictures. Over time, you and Jimmy became close friends. 

Often after a show, the two of you would sit outside and look at the stars, talking for hours. Your feelings for him grew, but you kept them to yourself. He was the first friend you ever had and you didn’t want to mess up the friendship by telling him how you felt. 

Of course, the universe had other plans. As it often did. 

It was nearly five years later and you were in your trailer, cleaning up for the evening when there was a sharp knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you frowned and peeked out the curtained window before opening the door.

Jimmy stood on the steps, hands on his hips and jaw clenched. You immediately knew something was wrong and stepped aside to let him in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, heading to the small kitchenette to pour him some tea you had just made yourself. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Being called freaks and getting shit thrown at us,” Jimmy grumbled as he paced. “I get so fucking tired of it. We deserve to be treated with respect just like everyone else. And no matter how hard we try they never fucking see that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I know how much this weighs on you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Why do you stay with us?” 

His question made you look over at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could go anywhere you want. Do your act for yourself. Why do you stay here?”

For you.

“This is my home and my family, where else would I go?”

He collapsed into your kitchen chair. “You deserve more, you know. Someone—” He caught himself and paused. “Something else. Something better.”

You turned around to tell him that you had no intention of going anywhere when your vision was assaulted by bright lights and the image of the King of Wands. It was so sudden and unexpected that you gasped, letting the teacup slip from your fingers and shatter on the floor. The moment you staggered backward, Jimmy was out of his seat with his arms around your waist to catch you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, doll face. Don’t wanna bump that pretty head of yours,” he said. “You alright?”

Grabbing his biceps to steady yourself, you shut your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

This was the first time in your entire friendship that the two of you touched. Sure there was an occasional handhold or pat on the knee, but he had never put his arms around you and, in truth, it was the best feeling in the world. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the embrace, burying your face in his neck. Jimmy held you tight, his nose in your hair. You were so close you could hear his heart racing and when his hand made a slow trail down your spine, you shuddered. 

“Take all the time you need, darlin’. I ain’t complaining.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s time for your reading.”

He quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “That what the kids are calling it nowadays?”

Laughing, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms and patted him on the chest. “I’m serious. I can finally see your card.”

“Hot damn. Must be my lucky day.”

You stepped over the broken cup, too focused on other things to care. As you took your seat, you waved to the shelf with your cards. “Take your pick.”

No longer angry, Jimmy looked incredibly amused at the change of events. “You’ve got a strange definition of foreplay, but I’ll play along.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he walked up to the shelf, hands shoved in his pockets. He was as handsome as he ever was. His looks only improved with time and the white sleeveless shirt and finely tailored pants helped a great deal. Often you had to stop yourself from just staring at him. Unless he was on stage. Then, you tucked yourself in the back and watched him with shameless love and affection in your soul. 

It took him a while to pick a deck, but when he did, he gingerly plucked it off the shelf and sat down with it. 

“Unwrap the cards and shuffle,” you told him. 

“I love it when you get all bossy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, just shuffle the damn cards.”

He chuckled, placing the cards on the table and carefully undoing the ribbon that bound them. When the cloth fell away, you found yourself staring at your grandmother’s cards. They almost never were picked nowadays. Truthfully, you were the only one to use them in the last two or so years. 

“So what card do you see for me, doll face?” Jimmy asked, shuffling the deck. His hands fumbled a few times but eventually, he got the hang of it. 

“The King of Wands.”

Jimmy smirked. “I know I’m good in bed but damn, I didn’t know I was a king.”

“Not that wand, Jimmy. Well...maybe that wand but I don’t know yet. Just shuffle and draw a card.”

“Why now?” He kept his eyes on you as he shuffled. “We’ve known each other five years and you never gave me a reading. The one time I asked, you said it wasn’t time.”

“You know it’s because I didn’t see a card for you.”

“Yeah, but why do you see one now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Jimmy placed the deck down and drew a card. 

The High Priestess. No. No, that’s not right. You’ve never been wrong in your entire life. A chill ran down your spine and you frowned as you looked at the card. Jimmy’s card wasn’t the High Priestess. 

“Looks like you were wrong, sugar,” Jimmy said. “That’s weird. I’ve never known you to be wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not. Draw another card.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay—”

“Humor me, Jimmy. Just draw again.”

Jimmy shrugged and drew another card, placing it next to the first. The Lovers. “Still not the King of Wands,” he said. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m sure after doing all those readings you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Draw one more.” Jimmy said your name softly but you just shook your head. “Draw again, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and drew another card and your heart lept. The King of Wands.

“There you are you sneaky bastard,” you said. “Now what the hell…” You cut yourself off when you realized what the cards meant. Images and sounds came rushing to you all at once and suddenly, you started laughing. Full on, deep belly, laughing. 

Jimmy looked bewildered. “Have you lost your damn mind? What’s so funny?”

“You just gave me a reading.”

“Come again?”

You point to him. “You, Jimmy Darling, just read MY tarot cards.”

“But I ain’t no card reader.” 

“Tonight you are apparently. See, this card is yours.” You point to the King of Wands before tapping the High Priestess. “And this one is mine.”

Jimmy looked down at the three cards. The High Priestess, The Lovers, and the King of Wands. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Well, shit,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

The both of you were out of your seats in the blink of an eye. When your lips finally met for the first time, it was like your world exploded. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and that only amplified times a thousand when Jimmy got his hands on you. He pulled at your shirt, tugging it out of your skirt so he could reach underneath. You gasped into his mouth the moment his skin made contact with yours and he groaned in response, palming your braless breasts with a rough squeeze. 

“Fuck,” you swore. “Jimmy, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, you’ll have me, doll face. All of me.”

He backed you against the wall of the trailer, mouth devouring yours like he was the hungriest man alive and you were the best meal he ever had. Teeth clashed together in your excitement and you were sure your lips were going to be swollen by the end of the night. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he went on, yanking your skirt up to bunch around your waist. His hands grabbed your thighs, giving them an excited squeeze as he yanked you against his chest. “You drive me damn crazy, woman. Always have. Seeing you walking around with this body and this mouth. The things I’ve wanted to do to you. Lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

You whimpered at his words, wet with arousal and lust. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulled back to give you that damn irresistible smirk of his. “Kinky. I like that.”

You tugged on his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops. “You have no idea, baby.”

Jimmy growled deep in his throat, giving you another kiss before taking over the task of ridding himself of his pants. God, he was magnificent. Long and thick and begging for your touch or mouth. Or both. Jimmy placed a hand on the wall by your head, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he started stroking himself. You wanted to look since that was the whole point, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from those dark brown ones. 

You’d never seen eyes like his. They pierced into your very soul and saw you for who you truly were. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he panted. “You said you wanted me to show you. The least you could do is look.”

So you looked. 

Fuck it was hot. Seeing his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off for you, was more than you could handle. You dropped to your knees, pushing his hands away and taking the tip of him into your mouth. 

Jimmy’s hand fell to your head and he swore out your name followed by a loud, drawn-out, “Fuuuuck!”

It took you a moment to get a good rhythm going. Truth be told, you were severely out of practice. Ever since you saw Jimmy, you hadn’t wanted anyone else. You flirted every now and then with a client, but it never went further because you knew none of them would match up to him. 

You sucked Jimmy off eagerly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the heady taste of him. He moaned and grunted, urging you on with words of encouragement. You always loved his voice and could listen to him sing for hours. But this was a different kind of song. This was one you knew you couldn’t live without. His hips thrust along with your mouth, burying himself as far into your throat as he could go. 

“Shit, doll face. Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this this whole time?” he groaned, tugging on your hair. “You better stop before this is over embarrassingly soon.”

Pulling off him with a pop, you dragged your tongue along the length of him before smirking. “Thought you would have more stamina than that, Jimmy-boy.”

He yanked you up onto your feet and shoved you back against the wall. “Oh trust me, darlin’. I have plenty.”

His mouth covered yours again as his hand disappeared under your skirt. Jimmy’s hands had drawn your attention but not for the reasons he would have thought. Even when he was self-conscious about them, you admired them. You had heard plenty of stories about his sexual exploits and wished that one day you would experience what he could do. 

He rubbed you through your panties, drawing a gasp out of you as he filled your mouth with his tongue before biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Jimmy wanted eye contact when he slid his hand under that soft fabric, his finger gently making contact with your clit before he pressed down hard. You shouted in surprise, lust coursing through your veins instantly. 

“You’re already wet, baby,” Jimmy cooed, placing the gentlest of kisses on your neck as he continued to draw hard circles around your clit. “Sure know how to stoke a man’s ego.”

“It’s all you, Jimmy,” you panted, already breathless and eager. “It’s only ever been you.”

He paused, gaze softening. “Ever?”

“Well, not ever ever but definitely since the day we met.”

A second later, his finger slid inside you and with a gasp you grabbed his shoulders, arching your back in a futile attempt to draw yourself closer to him. He smashed his mouth against yours, kissing away what little breath you had and making your knees buckle. Dear lord, he was magnificent. His thick finger stretched you better than you ever thought possible, certainly better than your own had. And if you were this worked up from his hand alone, you couldn’t wait for his cock. 

Jimmy rested his forehead against yours, watching your face as he pleasured you. Your eyes stayed closed but you could still feel the stare, sense his smile as your breaths mingled together. When he leaned against you, you could feel the hardness of his cock. Teasingly, you raised your leg to press your thigh against it and he groaned as precum leaked onto your skin. 

“Fuck me, Jimmy,” you begged shamelessly. 

“Oh, I will, doll face. Once you cum first.”

It didn’t take long for him to make that happen. Just a few more deep strokes and you convulsed against him, still trapped between his body and the wall. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and as you threw your head back, Jimmy latched onto your neck, sucking greedily. He was still at it when you came back down from your high. 

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” you slurred, reaching down to grab his wrist so he’d give you a second to recover. His finger slipped out but he kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft flesh. 

“That’s the plan.”

Laughing softly, you dragged your eyes open when he pulled away, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a disheveled and red-cheeked Jimmy Darling. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you said. 

“I take it you don’t own a mirror. Because you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“Actually, I do. In the bedroom.” You smirked and nodded over your shoulder to the beaded curtain that separated your sleeping space from the rest of the trailer. “Wanna take a look?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that for years.”

Giggling like school children, you grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pulled him into the room. He stepped out of his shoes and pants along the way, leaving them behind. Your room could barely be called that. It didn’t have space for anything other than your bed and a few decorations on the wall. One of which was a large ornate mirror you had found at an antique shop some time ago. Its bronzed frame shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the tiny window.

Jimmy admired it briefly, staring at your reflection as you climbed onto the bed. “Clothes off, doll face,” he said, yanking his shirt off. “Let me finally see all of you.”

You stripped slowly and deliberately, taking off each layer with careful movements if for no other reason than to give Jimmy the show he deserved. When you were finally, naked, he let out a strangled moan, reaching down to touch himself again. “Fucking hell, you’re just a pretty as I always thought you were.”

“I’m even prettier up close.” You spread your legs for him as you settled against the mound of pillows behind you. 

Grinning, Jimmy climbed onto the bed, crawling towards you with catlike grace. As you leaned up for a kiss, he granted your desire, cupping your cheek to hold you there for a moment. A second later, his hand grasped your neck and he shoved you onto your back before burying his face between your legs. 

His roughness thrilled you right down to your core, which he drank from excitedly. Those lips. That mouth. You knew he had a quick tongue but fuck you never knew how quick it was. He had you soaked from his spit in no time, his tongue switching between flicking at your clit and licking slow stripes along your seam. The teasing didn’t last long. He was too worked up and ready for more. His finger slid into you again as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. 

“Jesus, Jimmy!” you exclaimed, clamping your thighs around his head and burying your hands in that wonderfully curly hair. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He drew back just enough to smirk up at you. “I’ve got some idea.” 

His fingers and hand were drenched in your arousal and you weren’t even the least bit ashamed about it. After all these years, to finally be able to touch him and have him touch you was too much to handle. You were never one to play coy and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. 

“Fuck me already!”

“So damn impatient,” Jimmy teased, still fingering you as he kissed your inner thigh. “You really want it that bad, don’t you?”

You yanked his hair so his eyes met yours. “You do too. I know it.”

Eyes dancing with lust, Jimmy’s hand slipped out from between your legs. He crawled up the rest of your body and pulled you into a harsh kiss. You could taste yourself on him and a sense of possessiveness washed over you. It disappeared and was replaced by instant pleasure a second later when he pushed his cock into you. 

You both groaned so loud, you knew the others could hear you outside. 

Jimmy took you so hard, you could feel the trailer rocking along with his trusts. Not that you minded. Nope. Quite the opposite. You wanted more. You wanted all of him, everything he could give. Five years was too damn long to hold back. You never felt so stretched and full before. The world around you melted away and all you were left with was Jimmy finally claiming your body for himself. 

“Perfect. Such a good girl,” he praised into your ear, his hips jerking against yours with a hard steady rhythm. “Always knew you’d take it well. All mine now, darlin’. No one else gets this sweet pussy but me, we understand?”

“Only you, Jimmy,” you cooed, more than happy to give yourself to him completely. On one condition. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. “And you’re mine.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

You pushed against him until he sat back on his heels and you were able to climb onto his lap. He slid back into you with ease as you rode him, his hands gripping your ass so tight you knew he’d leave marks. Jimmy turned his head and it was your turn to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. You saw how women looked at him, you weren’t stupid. When they saw the way you marked him, they wouldn’t look anymore. Not if they knew what was good for them. 

“We look good, doll face,” he panted, watching your reflections in the mirror. “Like we were made for each other.”

You pressed your cheek against his and also watched, your bodies grinding and writhing, begging for sweet release. “We were.”

You came not too long after, too tired and worked up to hold back. Jimmy fucked you through it, biting his lip as his own orgasm overtook him. With a groan, he threw his head back and came inside you, filling you up with his release until he was spent and both slumped against each other panting. 

Sloppy kisses were exchanged as Jimmy laid the both of you down. You remained in your sweaty, tangled embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away now that you could finally touch each other. Even when you caught your breath, you stayed there, you stroking Jimmy’s chest and him running his fingers through your hair. 

“You never told me what my card meant,” he said after some time had passed. His voice was soft from fatigue and he sounded more relaxed than he had been in days. 

“The King of Wands represents pure, fiery energy. He’s a natural-born leader, a visionary. But doesn’t go forward alone. He’s all about caring for those around him and enlisting their help to realize his vision. He’s someone who’s here to leave a legacy.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed in amusement. “I like the sound of that.”

“You create your own destiny. You create the outcome you want. Now, the only question is, what is it you want?”

Jimmy smiled down at you, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Already got what I want right here, sugar.”

With a smile, you kissed him. The both of you remained that way for some time, each kiss getting softer and gentler, until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

[oumakokichi]

So what do you think of Kaede and Kokichi's relationship? And if Kaede remained the protagonist how do you think it would change?

Considering it’s Kaede’s birthday today I think this is a really fun question to come back to!

Kaede is an absolutely amazing character, and I love how different her relationships with the rest of the cast feel from Saihara’s. She and Ouma have an especially interesting friendship in their FTEs together (one of Kaede’s FTEs with Ouma might be one of my favorite FTEs ever, really), so I don’t mind going a little more in-depth on my thoughts about their dynamic, as well as about how that dynamic and the story itself might’ve changed if Kaede had remained the protagonist!

Warning for spoilers as always, though I’m pretty sure most people know about the chapter 1 twist by now.

I think one of my absolute favorite things about Kaede is just how easy it is to get attached to her in such a short amount of time. She’s only around for the prologue and a single chapter, but despite that (or rather, because of the sheer length of the chapters in ndrv3, which tend to be much longer than dr1 or sdr2’s chapters), we still get to see so many different sides of her and just how complex of a character she really is. And I think that’s largely the reason for her continued popularity to this day: Kaede might not stay around for long, but we still really feel like we know her by the end of it.

And really, I think that’s pretty similar to how the actual characters feel about Kaede themselves. Despite how short her time is with all of them, she leaves such a powerful, lasting impression, even after her death. This is a pretty big change from previous DR games, where the chapter 1 culprits especially tend to suffer a pretty big lack of relevance or relationship to other characters in later chapters. Often times the victims are at least somewhat memorable (Maizono and the Impostor both at least come up a few times in their respective games), but characters like Leon or Teruteru just don’t feel like they have much of an impact on the other characters or the plot itself after their trials are finished.

This is totally different from Kaede, whose positive outlook and outgoing attitude already makes her fairly likable to most of the others, but who also openly invites the others to rely on her once she establishes herself as a leader figure fairly quickly in chapter 1. Most of the other characters latch onto her almost immediately, either because she seems so reliable and helpful (Saihara and Tenko in particular seem to like this about her), or because they can’t help but respect her and what she’s trying to do for the group (characters like Momota, who really values group cooperation, come to mind).

Personally, I think Ouma fell into the latter category. He and Kaede have something of a complicated relationship almost right from the get-go in chapter 1, but it’s still pretty clear that Ouma did respect Kaede a lot and recognized that she had the group’s best interests at heart, even if he didn’t always agree with her methods.

Likewise, I think Kaede was somewhat curious about Ouma and really wanted to get along with him, despite how difficult he could be. We see in Ouma’s introduction, both in the demo and the actual game, that Kaede clearly recognizes on some level that part of his annoying attitude is really just his way of teasing others, and that he doesn’t seem particularly malicious. More specifically, she describes him as “having a childish streak that makes him hard to hate,” which is a pretty spot-on description of Ouma in a nutshell. In short, she knew he was annoying and childish (on purpose, most of the time) but she definitely didn’t think of him as evil or cruel. This may in part also be because she didn’t live long enough to see him embrace the fake villain routine by the end of chapter 4, of course.

Ouma has a few teasing remarks throughout most of the game, but it’s not really until the death road of despair is discovered that he and Kaede butt heads for the very first time. This is because of a big, fundamental difference between their ideologies: while both of them very much have the group’s best interests at heart, they completely disagree when it comes to whether it’s worth it to cooperate as a team or not.

By the end of the game, Ouma is extremely paranoid, refusing to cooperate with absolutely anyone unless it’s out of some mixture of chance and necessity (such as working with Momota in chapter 5). He keeps all his cards close to the chest, and refuses to confide in or trust any of his remaining classmates, believing it’s fully possible any of them could be the ringleader.

But before the events of chapter 4, we see that he’s actually not opposed to the idea of selective cooperation. He strikes up a tentative collaboration with Miu early on, commissioning her to create some extremely useful inventions with the intent of using them to try and end the killing game. He also extends an invitation of cooperation to both Kaede (in one of her FTEs) and Saihara (in chapter 4, in the parlor of the VR world), though he goes about this in such a sly, underhanded, and off-putting way that both of them shoot his offer down flat. Even he’s not beyond the idea of teaming up with people he perceives as “useful” or “smart,” as long as it’s a much smaller, one-on-one effort rather than trusting or working with the entire group.

By contrast, Kaede is someone who believes that group unity is almost a necessity if they want to escape the killing game. This is very much in line with the role she establishes for herself as a leader. Unlike characters like Momota, who has always sort of longed to embrace a “hero” role, or Saihara, who is considerably more awkward and unwilling to be a leader because of how guilty he feels, Kaede’s role is much more about boosting and maintaining the group’s morale.

This is lampshaded several times by the classical music pieces that she references, often in an attempt to either clam the others down or fire them up at the idea of working together and escaping. It’s also a fantastic little clue that her own positive outlook is something a bit more crafted than it seems on the surface; she always tries to be optimistic about things and face her problems head-on, but that’s in large part because she tries to energize herself and present that reliable, dependable persona to the rest of the group. In short, she believes that if she reveals her own uncertainty or lack of faith in her plans, the rest of the group’s trust and morale will fall too.

Like I mentioned, this difference in their outlook is really what begins to cause problems for them once they discover the death road of despair in chapter 1. Kaede sees the tunnel as their one opportunity to escape without having to rely on the killing game itself; even if it’s extremely difficult and damn near impossible to get through it, the chance of injury is a risk she’s willing to take, no matter how many times they have to start over. But Ouma disagrees with this mindset and criticizes her in front of the entire group, pointing out how everyone else is already exhausted and even injured, and saying that she has no right to make that decision for the rest of them.

He even goes a step further and accuses her of strong-arming the rest of them by “denying them the right to give up in an impossible situation.” He claims that by positing herself as an inspirational figure, she has the “moral high-ground” no matter what the rest of them do or say, and clearly doesn’t think it’s possible for them to continue down the death road without someone getting seriously injured, or worse.

These harsh words really take Kaede aback, especially since most of the rest of the group seems to more or less agree with Ouma. She’s extremely hurt—not just by the fact that no one seems to really want to keep going with her plan, but also, I think, because she felt as if Ouma was right on some level. In my opinion, this is why she cries once she’s alone in her room later: because she did feel as though she’d forced everyone else to go along with an unreasonable plan. It’s the first time that we really see the cracks in her leader persona beginning to show, as well as the self-doubt that she carries.

I honestly think many people who dislike Ouma on their first playthrough of the game may have started here, right at this moment. Because so much of this seems to be fairly black-or-white initially—Kaede is presented as the unequivocally good heroine, trying to get everyone to work together and escape, and Ouma by contrast seems mean and unreasonable for arguing with her in front of everyone. We’re not supposed to linger on the fact that he makes several good points about everyone else’s safety and exhaustion because how he goes about it is off-putting and unlikable.

Not only that, but we as first-time players aren’t supposed to know about all the similarities that Ouma and Kaede actually have in common, despite their differences on the matter of group cooperation. We’re not supposed to know just yet that they both want to save the group, no matter what it takes, or that both of them are willing to go to extreme, sometimes morally grey measures in order to try and stop the killing game. We’re not supposed to know right away that Ouma can be every bit as self-sacrificing as Kaede, despite the selfish things that he says in front of the others, or that when push comes to shove, Kaede is willing to lie almost as much as he is.

We don’t know any of that, initially—which is why that scene hits so hard and sets Ouma up to be so unpleasant. But I think going back on a replay and evaluating it again is pretty interesting specifically because of all these similarities that I’ve listed. The fact that they clash here is especially interesting, given the sort of roles they embody to the rest of the group, with Kaede deliberately choosing to be someone that the entire group relies on and finds trustworthy, while Ouma later sets himself up to become a villain who’s hated by everyone. And despite this, their goals are largely one and the same: expose the ringleader and end the killing game.

I think it’s specifically because Kaede realized she couldn’t continue pushing everyone to do the things she wanted them to, no matter how badly she wanted everyone to cooperate and escape together, and that’s ultimately why she turns to Plan B when she hears from Saihara about the bookshelf hiding the ringleader’s lair in the library. And for all that she does want to trust and cooperate with everyone else, she actually goes about this plan in the most Ouma-like way possible: by doing everything herself and without telling anyone her real intentions, not even Saihara.

Something I especially like about Kaede as a character is just how nuanced she is. Because she is simultaneously the brave, trustworthy, outgoing protagonist that we see her as, but she’s also so, so much more than that. She’s fiercely determined and cares about everyone else, yes, but it’s also because she cares so much that she’s willing to do things like lie and attempt murder behind everyone else’s back.

If we look at the audition videos as any sort of clue as to what the characters might’ve been like before the start of the game, I do think there was a somewhat more skeptical, cynical side of Kaede deep down that didn’t quite trust other people—and that’s all the more reason she wanted to trust them and work together with all of them, because she knew exactly how hard it was to do so. It’s such an interesting contrast from Ouma, who could easily have used all his lies and charm to cooperate with people if he wanted to, but who instead continually pushes people away because of his skepticism, all the while pretending to act completely arrogant and self-assured in his plans. Deep down, I think both of them were much more vulnerable than they were ever willing to show in front of other people.

And I think by the end of chapter 1, Ouma became more or less aware of that side of Kaede, once she confesses everything she tried to do to end the killing game. Prior to this, I personally think Ouma still very much liked and respected her guts and her attempts at leading the group, but that he ultimately thought she was doomed by her reliance on trust and cooperation when they didn’t even know who the ringleader was within their group. But I think that after hearing just how far she was willing to go to stop the killing game, including but not limited to lying to everyone else and going behind their backs with her own plan, he couldn’t help but respect her even more. Despite his accusations that she was too soft or naïve for trusting everyone else, her actual attempted solution was far closer to his own outlook than he initially gave her credit for.

This is why, just before Kaede is about to be executed, Ouma drops all of his usual acts and facades with her and gives her a sincere goodbye, telling her that she “wasn’t boring.” And this is really the highest compliment someone like Ouma can give: she did take him by surprise and surpass all his expectations from her, and I do believe he was genuinely sad to see her go when she attempted such a huge sacrifice for everyone else’s sakes.

Truly, the only part of her plan that I think he disagreed with was the act of (attempted) murder in and of itself. He felt that despite her good intentions, she had “crossed a line” that shouldn’t be crossed, and that she fell into the ringleader’s trap the moment the idea of murder crossed her mind. Considering how much DICE’s “no murder” taboo guided Ouma throughout the game, it’s not surprising at all that this is where he disagreed with Kaede. Though ironically, he himself crosses the same line in chapter 4 when he decides the only possible solution to Miu’s attempt on his life is to kill her himself, and therefore winds up getting his hands dirty without ever directly committing murder, much like Kaede herself.

Questioning how they might’ve gotten along if Kaede had actually lived past chapter 1 and continued being the game’s protagonist is interesting, mainly because so many factors would change as a result. Kaede and Saihara are so fundamentally different as protagonists, and Kaede herself is much more in line with what we would expect from a Hope’s Peak protagonist instead. Kodaka himself has described her in an interview as being extremely similar to Asahina, and I personally think she’s something of a combination between Asahina’s outgoing attitude and Maizono’s carefully crafted façade (not to mention moral ambiguity). So it stands to reason that the game and its themes wouldn’t quite be the same if Kaede were still the protagonist.

On the one hand, I do think there would be interesting potential for a possible alliance between her and Ouma, especially given how similar they could both be. Ouma himself proposes such an alliance to her in one of his FTEs, though she does get angry and shoots him down, as I mentioned earlier. But it’s interesting to consider if Kaede might’ve been more willing to cooperate in smaller, one-on-one alliances if she had attempted her plan in chapter 1 and failed without getting executed for it.

There’s also the fact that Ouma claims to remember her and everyone else adamantly in his FTEs with her, even going so far as to claim that she and everyone else forgot about him, even though he never forgot about them. It’s unclear whether he’s referring to his memories from before the game still being intact (which is likely, since he’s pretty skeptical of the flashback lights right away), or if there’s some other explanation for it, but personally, I don’t think it can be dismissed as a complete lie. Even if Kaede herself accuses him of lying and making it all up, he goes uncharacteristically blank and claims that “even he’s not that good at lying.”

This adds huge potential to Kaede sticking around, as there could easily be an underlying mystery element. In addition to the trials themselves and the mystery of the outside world, it’d be very possible to explore their dynamic further, as well as why Ouma said the things he did and if he was actually telling the truth about knowing her and everyone else from before. Kaede is absolutely persistent enough that I feel like she would’ve pressed him for details about this, especially once it became clear in the main plot that their memories were unreliable.

On the other hand, it’s really unclear if Ouma would’ve still been willing to offer that alliance to Kaede once she had attempted to commit murder. Assuming the events of chapter 1 stay more or less the same and the only difference is that Kaede survives instead of getting executed, this raises some potential problems with Ouma actually working together with her or trusting her. She did, as he puts it, “cross the line”—even if her murder attempt wasn’t successful, Ouma claims that she was already too far gone the moment she even considered murder as a possible solution. This could definitely cause another clash of opinions between them, especially as Ouma is much too paranoid to work directly with anyone who he thinks might kill him.

Another potential source of conflict in my opinion is the Hope’s Peak flashback light in chapter 5. Unlike Saihara, who deals primarily with questions of “truth or lies” and is ultimately able to see through Tsumugi’s false ultimatum in chapter 6 with the choice of either the “hope ending” or “despair ending,” Kaede is, as I mentioned, much more in line with what you’d expect from a Hope’s Peak protagonist. She’s extremely smart of course, but she has a bit of a reckless, headstrong streak where she tends to act based on emotion rather than reason, and this could get her into quite a lot of trouble once Tsumugi started rewriting everyone’s memories in chapter 5.

Saihara was able to see that both of the choices Tsumugi presented in the final trial were bullshit and would ultimately keep the cycle of Danganronpa ongoing, but I’m not entirely sure if Kaede would realize the same thing, or even if she did eventually realize it, I’m not sure it would’ve been in time to stop it. Because of her self-sacrificing nature, I personally think she would’ve chosen to be one of the sacrifices for the sake of “hope,” much like Amami presumably did in season 52. This ultimately means that Kaede sticking around might have ultimately led to a “bad end” of sorts, where even if the rest of the group went free aside from her and one other sacrifice, Danganronpa itself never gets dismantled and lives to see another season.

The only possible way I see for Kaede to avoid falling into this trap and making this choice is if enough of her classmates rubbed off on her or helped her see things in less black-or-white terms like “hope” or “despair,” and in more nuanced shades of grey instead. But considering how completely fooled almost everyone was in the actual events of the game, it’s difficult to say if this would happen. She would definitely need to talk and debate with someone who viewed the flashback lights a lot more skeptically, whether it was Saihara or Ouma (or maybe even Angie), before she could reach the truth about what Tsumugi and Team Danganronpa were really after.

This analysis has gotten pretty long by this point, so I’ll just wrap things up by saying that I really do love Kaede and Ouma’s friendship, and I think they had more potential of getting along than either of them might’ve realized in canon. Despite their fundamental differences, both of them were two characters who went farther than almost anyone else in trying to stop the killing game, and both of them weren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty if necessary. I think the fact that Ouma claims to remember Kaede and everyone else from before the killing game is super interesting, and I would’ve absolutely loved to see it touched on more if Ouma had lived longer.

All in all, Kaede is such an amazing, morally grey character who really helps to establish what we can expect from the rest of the game, and I think that’s part of what makes her so memorable. Maybe one day we’ll get some sort of DR:IF equivalent where we get a semi-canon look into a scenario where everyone lives, and hopefully there we could see not only more of Kaede being a protagonist figure, but also more of her interactions with Ouma and everyone else.

[laurenwritesfics]

The Pieces We Leave Behind

CHAPTER ONE: FRANK

Mary had buried herself in books again. She was a curious and intelligent young girl, but her love of reading was turning into obsession. So much so that Frank was beginning to worry about Vitamin D deficiency. She looked a little too pale. He usually hauled her out of her chair – met with screams and slaps of protestation – and took her to the beach or the park for ice cream, but today, he was piling her into the car to meet with the school principal. Mary had been accused of bullying, and Frank wasn’t going to let it stand.

“This is so stupid.” Mary huffed and crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know, just get in the car.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her backpack off her shoulder, throwing it onto the seat beside her. The engine of Frank’s 1974 sedan sputtered to life. Frank’s mother Evelyn called it a rickety rust-bucket, but it was his pride and joy – second only to his sweet, silly niece, who was currently sulking in the back seat.

That was the thing about Frank Adler. He didn’t fix broken things, he just knew when something was worth saving. He saw potential that nobody else could.

He was the first to break away from the family. He was tired, he said, of living a Stepford lie.

This was how he came to be Mary’s guardian. After the death of his sister Diane, the Adler family was irreparably splintered. In the midst of Evelyn’s grief, she had swept Mary up into a life she would never become accustomed to - piano lessons, private school, badminton, early bedtime and absolutely no television.

At just seven years old, Mary was wide-eyed and wise. A headstrong child who sometimes alarmed Evelyn with her ability to face the world fearlessly. Her teachers referred to her as ‘gifted’, which made Evelyn’s eyes light up. She was just like Diane. That was the beginning of the end of Mary’s childhood. Night after night, she would be tucked into bed with a book. As the months went by, childhood favorites were replaced with educational textbooks. Mornings started with a pop quiz. Her social circle grew smaller. She eventually found herself so frustrated by her restrictive life with Evelyn that she once threatened to run away, as children often do. But Evelyn knew that Mary meant it. So when it did finally happen, the thing that shocked her the most was not the act itself, but the fact that, of all people, Mary ran to Frank for help.

At ten years old, Diane scored her first grade A in mathematics. From that moment on, Evelyn decided to live vicariously through her daughter. She had devoted her youth to solving the Navier–Stokes problem (one of the unsolved Millennium Prize Problems), but had never been successful. Frank was the only one who saw her slowly disappear. Forced into a mold that didn’t fit her. He watched Diane suffer through countless socialite soirées, nodding politely, eyes glazed. He was the last person to call her. He found her. He blamed Evelyn.

She would never believe that the cause of death was suicide. Diane was so happy, she said. So intelligent. So perfect. Of course, perfection didn’t exist. She learned this a mere month later when her marriage fell apart.

Mary was the only piece of Diane that was left.

Frank knew that if Mary stayed in Boston with his mother, history would repeat itself. So he intervened. He sent care packages all the way from Florida. They called each other weekly. Six months into what Frank referred to as her kidnapping, he received a phone call in the middle of the night. She was uncharacteristically subdued. Whispering. Her voice trembled. She was trapped. Four hours later he was bundling her into a taxi. It wasn’t going to happen again. Not on his watch.

Evelyn would never forgive him, but he didn’t care. Frank loved his mother – he always would – he just didn’t like her.

The more time Mary spent in Florida, the more she began to dislike Evelyn, too.

It was an unspoken rule that Evelyn was informed of Mary’s achievements. She didn’t much care for the other things – the friendships, the slumber parties, the times she cried herself to sleep from stress and in fear of bullies – those were Frank’s problems. The only problems she cared about were mathematical. She didn’t visit on Mary’s seventh birthday, but she did attend the parent-teacher conference that came after it. Frank was sure that if Evelyn set foot in the principal’s office she would have a heart attack on the spot. So, here he was, driving Mary to school to correct the misinformed adults who believed that his niece was capable of hurting another child.

“Slow down!” Mary caught Frank’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “Mom said never go to bed or drive angry.”

“I’m not angry.” He said, almost flatly enough to mask his frustration.

“Yes you are.”

Frank tapped his index finger on the steering wheel. He counted to ten in his head, exhaling slowly.

“Fine, I’m angry.” He admitted. “These stuck-up bastards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t swear.” Mary chided.

“Sorry.”

A short woman with a thin, pinched face emerged from the principal’s office.

Mary was leaning against the window, chin in her palm, counting the trees that passed by, partly to keep herself occupied, partly to quell the anxiety that was swirling inside her. She was always quiet, focussed, and polite. She went out of her way to make friends with the other children. This was entirely unfair. Back in Boston, she had spent time in almost every school in the city – co-ed, prep school, all-girls, but she never stayed too long. She was either too inquisitive, too restless, or – ironically – too smart. Sometimes it felt as though she didn’t belong anywhere at all.

Weaving through the long line of cars in the school parking lot, Frank stopped awkwardly and swung himself out of the car, keeping tight hold of Mary’s hand as they made their way inside. The occasional echo of chatter and footsteps cut through the otherwise silent hallway. The closer they got to the office, the easier it was for Mary to breathe. It was going to work out. Frank would take care of it. He had a talent for charming people into submission.

“Who’s that?” Frank straightened his shirt, still stained with oil and sweat from an afternoon spent fixing up a boat for a local fisherman.

“Mrs Weston.” Mary half-whispered, shrinking in her chair a little. “We hate her.”

Frank huffed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes we do.”

Then, an interruption from a harsh, husky voice.

“Mary Adler?”

Frank turned to Mary, slapping the arm of the chair. “Looks like we’re up, kiddo. You okay?” He tilted his head in concern.

“I guess.” Mary shrugged, her shoulders sinking for a moment before she pushed herself forward and took hold of Frank’s hand again.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and roamed over the two of them. She pursed her lips, paused, and finally spoke.

“Principal Mitchell is unavailable this morning.” She said curtly. “Vice-Principal Madeline Weston. Come in.”

Rustling papers. The pronounced tick-tick-tock of the clock on the wall. An awkward cough. Frank shifted in his seat, a creak eliciting from beneath the adult weight it clearly wasn’t made to support. Leaning out of a slouch, elbows resting on his knees, he tented his fingers and waited for the inevitable stretching of the truth. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, locking eyes with the woman who clearly didn’t know Mary at all.

“Do your worst.” Frank muttered not quite far enough under his breath.

“I take it you’ve done this before, Mr Adler?”

“Once or twice.”

A judgemental hum. “Then I’m sure you know why you’re here today. Mr Adler, your daughter-“

“She’s my niece.”

Madeline crossed her legs and adjusted her lapels. “Your niece is disruptive. She is preventing the other students from learning.”

“How, exactly?”

“Interruptions. Selfishness. Questions in math class are answered almost exclusively by Miss Adler.”

“Yeah, probably because she’s the only one who knows the answer.” Frank scoffed.

“Do not insult the quality of education provided at this school, Mr Adler.”

“I’m insulting the students. Mary can do so much better than here. She’s so smart – too smart.” His voice deepened, even and impassioned. “If you just took the time to get to know her-“

Madeline cut him off. “We don’t get to know the children here, Mr Adler. We encourage their talents.”

Frank tried and failed to fight the push in his calves compelling him to stand up. He tapped Mary’s shoulder and made his way to the door. Whether she liked it or not, Evelyn was going to hear about this.

“This is bullshit. Mary, we’re done here.”

Launching herself out of her chair with a scowl, Mary followed Frank back into the hallway.

“So that’s the Wicked Witch of the West, huh?”

Mary exploded into laughter.

The sun beat down on the asphalt as they re-entered the parking lot, hands pressing against searing metal, the air thick and musty inside the car. Frank adjusted the rear-view mirror, turned the key and hooked his arm around the passenger seat as he pulled away.

“Buckle up, genius. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Read chapter one HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

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[renidrag]

I literally can’t stop thinking about how the finale is going to play out for Greta and Riley and was wondering if you could give me your theories if you have any.

Like we know that they’re finally going to talk to each other but who do you think is going to initiate the conversation? What’s going to happen that they finally breakdown and talk? Also, what do you think is going on with Luz? Do you think she’s the one that tells Greta about her and Riley or does Riley tell her herself? Why else would Luz be at the party though? I’m having such a hard time picturing how it’s all going to play out in this one episode. Like there’s so much that needs to be addressed will it even end on a good note for them?? If the season ends with them on bad terms and we don’t get a season 2 I’ll be devastated.

Sorry that’s a lot of questions but I just want to know how you think it’s all gonna go down. I’ve loved reading all of your other theories and analyses!

alright alright let me answer this question by question lmao but this is all speculation ofc because I have NO IDEA

because the pics we have of the conversation are in riley's room and because she's been the one to try to initiate conversation the past three times we've seen them talk - in ep 14 when riley yells at greta, the 'wow greta you look great' line (still can't believe she said this on a group facetime aljsfdjsald) and their final almost-convo in ep 15 - it seems most likely that it will be riley who pulls her aside so that they can be alone in a room together (for like the third time ever!!!) and so that she can finally hear the end of 'actually I wanted to tell you'

on the other hand I'm also thinking that maybe greta has had enough of being interrupted. she's been trying to have this out with riley for so long that maybe on this third attempt she just shuts them in a room together so that she can say her piece. if she's been thinking over this one conversation and all the different ways it could go endlessly for days then maybe she just hits the point where she can't hold it in for a second longer

from the sneak peek where greta says 'I can like someone, like really like them' the only thing that makes sense to me is her explaining that she is actually extremely into riley, that she can really like someone if she's connected with them and that that person is riley. in the hug at the end of the sneak peek greta looks like she's crying so I've seen people speculate that it's like a goodbye hug or something, but if I had finally spilled my guts to this girl that I'm all in on I'd probably be bawling too. maybe riley pulls her in to tell her that everything is going to be alright, and that she's valid and that riley still likes her so much no matter what?? they're always so tentative with touching each other and the only other time they've hugged it was pretty brief and awkward at x files night, so that hug honestly just looks like relief to me. it must feel so good for both of them just to hold onto each other like that - a mirror of the hug between chester and riley in ep 14. some people just make you feel correct

in terms of luz being there, the afterparty at riley's house is filled with a bunch of other random people from their school like the party in the pilot so it's not weird to me that she's there. maybe luz is regretting giving up on greta and is coming back for a second try, or maybe she's just there to either have a good time or start drama idk at this point

this dialogue from ep 15 has me really interested to see whether riley chooses to perpetuate her dad's cycle of dishonesty because she feels she has no choice, or if she decides to diverge from this doomed path that she thinks is set for her because of who her parents are

if they're doing it just for the drama then she's obviously going to keep it from greta and then luz will come along to ruin everything, but I think it would be much more interesting for them to queer this narrative of untruth and subvert those expectations that we have. riley's not stupid, she knows it's going to hurt greta but I would love if they let her realise that keeping this from greta now is just going to make things worse in the long run

she already has that threat of 'not yet' from luz hanging over her head, and it would be so cool and different for there to be this conversation between the two of them that is just completely honest and sets them up with a clean slate to continue their relationship on. not that I think it will happen really but I'd also love for greta to hear about the hook up and tell riley 'okay I understand that you were upset that night and that made you act in a way that you regret. I don't hate you, you're not a bad person and you're not your dad' rather than being some massive shocking revelation, like that kind of patience and acceptance of trauma is something that we never really see

I really hope that riley tells greta everything that's happening with her home life as well. the 'stuff I don't wanna tell you' line was so pointed and I need her to know that greta is literally just worried because she cares about her so much, and that she honestly does just want to hear what riley's struggling with so she can help her carry that load. we've had two specific instances in ep 1 and ep 9 (funny how the two halves of the season start with this) where riley and greta have been trying to check in and ask the other if they're okay and also get interrupted, so this is finally a chance to not only talk about their own feelings but everything outside of that as well

I really hope this season will end on a good note. obviously they won't be able to resolve everything but even just having a little moment of something at the end of the episode, like that quiet car ride with that tiny hopeful uptick that is bo replying to chester at the end of ep 8 is kind of enough for me as long as we get a season two. I've said this before but ending a season of a show about queer people on some cliffhanger of pain and misery and chaos just seems like the absolute wrong message for any creator who is also queer to send. like that's why we make art that represents ourselves, to tell kids that it does get better, and there is hope and light and love at the end of the tunnel

not to compare this show to euphoria because I think it’s reductive but there's this thing that sam levinson says about his show that I think really applies here too with how zelda and her dads talk about this show and it makes me feel at least a little bit optimistic about this final episode:

'It’s about how if you keep your heart open, there are people who can change your life, and it’s about love, and it’s a show about being seen and heard and known. It doesn’t cure everything but it sure as fuck helps.'

if you've gotten through this and you have twitter or instagram then go follow the official accounts, tweet something about how much you love this show and hashtag #renewgeneration so that we actually DO get a season 2 :-)

[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 4

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Sumamry: Mumbo was surprised to find that Grian was right when he said the egg was magical.

TW: Slight electrocution I suppose, and descriptions of lightning

Word Count: 2415

Notes: Again, the two farms are in the overworld, not in the Nether or End for the sake of the fic

Enjoy! And this one deserves a Read More because it’s long lol

——————

By the end of the next day, Mumbo had finished his first farm and half of his second farm. Much to his surprise, the egg didn’t bear any harm. It was strangely quiet recently but it didn’t bother him any. At the moment, it was in his inventory should anyone come by and see that he had it. It’d ruin his plans and he didn’t want to give up the egg just yet. Really, he could probably keep it forever. It had been completely safe and comfortable- or, as comfortable as an egg can be- since he stole it. Mumbo called that pretty responsible.

Who was he kidding, Grian would kill him eventually if he never found it himself.

He laid down the last of the comparators for the third row, focused more on finishing his farm than overthinking the egg situation. If all went well so far, they should be able to work on their own if he flipped a lever. The redstoner pulled the egg from his inventory and held it up to his face.

“I think everything looks about right so far, yeah?” He turned the egg as if there was a face to show his work. The egg quite obviously never spoke but it helped to explain the redstone and find the flaws in his contraptions.

Nothing seemed out of place. The first row’s test went swimmingly and by replicating that a few more times, all should go as planned when he tested them together. With his luck it may not happen but he could stand to be a little optimistic at least. Mumbo went on to build the last of the uniform rows and easily finished another quarter of the farm. All was down to just encasing said farm in a wall of glass to avoid the items spilling over the sides.

He stood back once more with his hands on his hips, the egg now by his feet. The redstoner was proud to say the least. He looked down at the egg which only sat stock still. Leaving the egg, he turned to dig in his chest for more materials.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the egg wouldn’t stay still for much longer.

“Glass, glass, where on Earth did I put the glass?” He mumbled to himself. He continued to rummage. Eventually, he pulled away from the chest with an internal cheer. “Of course it was next to the pistons.”

He swirled back around when he began to hear small pops from behind him. As he did, Mumbo’s eyes widened. Small purple sparks crackled every so often at the base of the egg and quickly began to grow in size. The egg itself launched into a fit of rapid vibrating.

“Oh! Uh-oh!” He dropped the glass next to him, shattering upon impact, and hurriedly jogged to the now terrifyingly lively egg. “Please tell me you're supposed to do that!”

The redstoner hesitated, going to touch it, then pulling away with a worried whimper. Mumbo didn’t want to touch it but he panicked as he was at a loss of what to do. The egg was calm for weeks before now. Even Grian would’ve said something if the egg had done something like this before Mumbo stole it.

Ah…Grian did tell him it was a magical egg.

Mumbo only thought Grian was joking to keep him from taking it. He’s never seen a dragon egg do that! It was just from the update, he suggested to himself. Eggs were just suddenly powerful and might destroy his days of work. He laughed nervously and pulled at his tie. It didn’t matter what he thought, the small sparks were now large bolts that shot their way into the ground. It singed the grass around it, turning it to a coal black. He had to back away from the egg’s ever expanding radius of energy.

“Oh what do I do- what do I do?!” Then, the obvious idea appeared and he palmed his forehead. “Grian!”

The redstoner fumbled to get his communicator from his pocket, almost dropping it several times. He miss-clicked several icons with petrified fingers and growled in frustration. Only when he finally opened the chat, the egg ceased its episode with an immediate halt. He looked up from the screen with caution and took another step away from the egg.

The area fell silent. Not a bird’s chirp or leave’s rustle broke the blanket of stillness that suddenly washed over everything. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, though.

He inched forward with small steps, clutching his communicator. Seconds passed, then a minute.

“H…Hello?” He said tentatively. He stuck a leg out, poking at it with the tip of his shoe then retracting his leg once more. A sigh escaped his lips. “Good, I guess that’s over with then.”

But it wasn’t. The egg was hardly finished as the bolts started again, much much larger than their already massive size they reached before it stopped the first time. Mumbo shrieked and attempted to retreat back to his chest. It took no longer than five seconds before a wave of the purple energy resonated through the ground and absorbed into the two farms. It knocked Mumbo from his feet and onto the grass, sending an electric shiver through his body.

He shielded his neck with his arms and waited. He only turned over when the sounds of roaring pistons caught his attention. But, that was hardly what he worried about as he watched in awe- good or bad, he wasn’t sure yet- at the effects of the egg’s sudden show of magic.

Both farms were activated and running faster than any farm he’d ever seen. Items upon items flowed down water streams and into stacks of chests. Some items avoided their intended route and simply floated in all directions above the farms. It was loud, incredibly loud. Mumbo nearly had to cover his ears as he initially cowered from the noise. However, he soon pulled himself to his feet and slowly approached the over-efficient farms.

A violet haze emitted from the redstone, replacing its originally reddish color, and from the cracks between each set of stone bricks. Each block crackled and hissed with energy, and it almost felt as if he were gaining some of that energy himself. Small bolts fizzled out over his suit. He lifted his left hand and turned it over, watching as sparks flew over and down his fingers to their tips.

To put it simply, it was a beautiful and supernatural sight. He wasn't sure how to react. His own heart was still racing- from the energy around him or his nerves, he also didn’t know.

While in the middle of the two farms, he glanced back at the egg which no longer twisted and turned, but sat with slowly flowing violet streams of energy penetrating the ground. Much like the hum of a conduit sounded from it. Now, it seemed very calm in contrast to its earlier fit. Mumbo assumed- for obvious reasons, really- that the egg powered the farms despite the contraptions having been able to power themselves via redstone. It was captivating and he couldn’t help but to become curious about what was inside the egg that would’ve given it so much power. That or had it already been created with it. Either way, he yearned to learn more about it. It could be revolutionary and improve efficiency immensely.

Although, the event was short lived as the egg’s energy flow sputtered and dissipated, leading to the farms shutting down with it. Mumbo looked up as items began to rain over his shoulders when they fell. But, he was hardly bothered. At this moment he realized a few things.

His farms worked, thankfully; The egg held an amount of power that could power several farms; Mumbo wanted to keep the egg for even longer to experiment.

Of course, he still wanted to eventually return it but as someone who couldn’t kill anything, the egg could help him for the time being...He already had many ideas popping into his head by the second. It only made him giddy for what was to come. He ran over and scooped up the egg with an ear-to-ear grin, holding it up to his face.

“You, my friend, are one wicked egg,” he complimented. Then, he put it in his inventory and prepared to fly home. He’d clean up the mess later.

As he rocketed off to his base, he noticed his red sweatered friend sitting alone on the roof of his house. Even when Mumbo flew by, Grian didn’t wave or nod up to him or really even look at him. Piquing his curiosity, though he should just go home and avoid confrontation, he landed behind Grian and carefully stepped down the slope of the roof.

“Hey! Haven’t heard from you much today,” he greeted. Mumbo was only met with silence. “Are you okay?”

After a second, Grian twitched when he realized that someone was talking to him. He turned his head to where Mumbo crouched down next to him.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking. This is my thinking roof.”

The redstoner hummed. “Ah, don’t wear yourself out then,” he laughed.

“You should try it sometime with that empty head of yours.” The avian chuckled dryly and looked back to the setting sun, the small smile falling from his face.

“Thanks,” Mumbo replied, initially with a smile himself but found himself meeting Grian’s frown. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. Then, he tapped his fingers on the deepslate. “So...what’re you thinking about?”

“A lot, honestly. It's still the beginning of the season, I’m sure everyone is.” He waved a hand dismissively then looked at Mumbo. “What about you? Have you been thinking about anything?”

Mumbo snorted, attempting to lighten the mood. “Thinking isn’t good for me. I overthink when I do and it hurts my brain.” He paused. “But, if you’d really like to know, I’ve been thinking about the egg.”

This made Grian perk up. “What about it? Do you know where it is?”

The redstoner hesitated. Not yet, he can’t give it up just yet. “What? No, not at all. But, I had a question.”

Grian deflated, then looked away with his chin on his arms, legs tucked to his chest. “Alright, shoot.”

Mumbo’s stomach twisted. “I uh- maybe now isn’t the best time actually. You know, while it’s missing and all.” He cracked a half smile.

“Yeah, while it’s missing,” the builder scoffed. “Just ask me, I’m sure I can answer.”

“Ah- um, sure. Why...why is the egg so special to you? I understand sentimentality, but it just seemed more…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I wondered maybe- maybe it uh… did something, you know? You said it was a magical egg. Maybe you could tell me about it?”

He heard a low chuckle from Grian. “It’s just some stupid egg, it’s not magical.”

“I- oh.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that was disappointing for you, wasn’t it,” Grian sneered. The two stopped. Grian pulled his head up and Mumbo furrowed his brows. “Nevermind, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Just stressed.”

Mumbo stood and tightened his jaw, ignoring the builder’s excuse. “You know, you’ve been real onto me about that egg. Why don’t you tell me about that instead or go bother Scar. Every conversation I have with you now is just accusing me of taking it.”

Grian thought back to what Aisling said, then his last thought before he came to the roof. “Because maybe I saw you sneak into my house and steal the egg. And maybe, I don’t know, it’s my stuff.” He stood and faced Mumbo with a finger to the redstoner’s chest. “And maybe it’s because you are an insanely terrible liar.”

The other was at a loss for words, opening his mouth then clamping it shut repeatedly. The tips of his ears reddened in embarrassment. Of course Grian probably saw him take it, anyone could’ve. But why didn’t he say anything before? Satisfaction? Did he want Mumbo to just admit to it?

It didn’t matter now, the jig was up and all of his plans for the egg were now down the drain.

“I- I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. “I didn’t think it was such a problem.” He looked down at his shoes. “You…have been acting differently since it was gone, I didn’t think I made you mad.”

The avian sighed in relief and put a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder. “I’m not- look at me,” Mumbo lifted his head, “I’m not mad. Really, I’m not. A little annoyed, maybe, but not mad.”

“But you just scolded me like a toddler!” The redstoner whined.

Grian laughed. “Because you have to do that when a toddler lies to you. But, I’m not angry at you, at Scar, or anyone else. I want to tell you why that egg is important, I do, but it’s not the time for that, yet.” He patted his friend’s shoulder. It was clear Mumbo had more questions but decided to avoid them. “So, where is it?”

“Ah- well, I should warn you first about something.” Grian’s eyes widened. “No, no! Nothing happened to it! But um- well, it’s not ‘just some stupid egg’, it’s one seriously powerful egg, dude. What kind of dragon did you fight?!”

“...Excuse me?”

“Yeah! It powered two of my farms at once, did this huge explosion thing with a bunch of lightning, and it was awesome, but the egg-”

Grian took a hold of Mumbo’s shoulders roughly. “Mumbo, did it do anything to you.” The builder was suddenly very serious, as if Mumbo would die if he said yes.

So, of course he lied. “No? I was well away from it.” Grian let go and crossed his arms with a raised brow. “I was! I ran away because I obviously didn’t want to die.”

The other sighed. “Good, I need it now, then.”

Mumbo pulled it from his inventory, hesitating to give it back. Then, he put it in Grian’s outstretched palm. With nothing more to say, he waved goodbye and glided back to his van. Grian watched as he did and once the van’s door slid shut, he looked down at the egg. While he inspected the egg, he noticed a new detail to its shell that made his stomach sink.

A cursive two letter initial, MJ.