#guys how long does this list need to get before i organize it

[marklease]

♡ masterlist! ♡ about me ♡ info

───────────────⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊────────────────

NCT Dream Texts insecure about your nose (9-4-2023) left something at their place (9-5-2023) sick in their car (9-6-2023) jealous dreamies (9-7-2023) calling them d@ddy (9-8-2023) when you’re sick (9-9-2023) gamer!dreamies (9-10-2023) accidentally sent a live photo (9-11-2023) bf jisung texts (9-12-2023) bff dreamies flirting, soft (9-13-2023) fwb gamer!hyuck (9-14-2023) reader is bad at cooking (9-15-2023) love languages (9-16-2023) hickeys (9-17-2023) crushing BFF dreamies (9-18-2023) when a guy is rude you (9-19-2023) bf!renjun texts (9-20-2023) princess treatment (9-22-2023) BFF dreamies hate your bf (9-26-2023) clingy bf and separate beds (1-7-2024) bff walks in on you changing (1-14-2024) 🆕✨

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Coming soon...

🌕 bf!renjun texts🌕 princess treatment🌕 bff dreamies hate your boyfriend 🌕 brother’s-bestfriend!jaemin 🌕 accidentally confessing to bff dreamies 🌕 coming over to comfort you 🌕 fwb!dreamies

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000

link: alpha!geto

link: 1k followers event!

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Slasher Handler Part 11 - Slip Lead

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Read on AO3

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Implied stalking/surveillance, implied kidnapping, physical injury, deception/emotional manipulation, physical violence, injury with knife, genuinely not enough information, hidden weapons

Something about stabbing him, about meeting Price, has resulted in you being able to stray a bit farther from Simon’s orbit. You’re still on a rather short lead, there is a list of unspoken rules between the two of you as long as your arm. But you’re going out alone more. You don’t feel Simon’s eyes on you every moment he’s out of your sight. It’s weird.

But when it comes to Simon, it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So you start a routine of going to the cafe down the street twice a week or so to work and see other human beings. It’s surprisingly difficult, some days. More than once, you’ve felt too exposed and retreated back home. These days, you have more good days than bad. As long as people don’t talk to you too much, you’re fine.

So it’s a bit jarring when someone clears his throat while you’re wrangling spreadsheets.

The man is in a light jacket, tee shirt and jeans. Looks like he works out. Kind of a stupid haircut, but he’s at least committed to it. Very distinct looking, Simon’s voice says in your head, easy to track. Unlikely to cause problems.

Something about him makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

“D’ya mind?” he gestures to the chair across from you. At your skeptical look, he rushes to assure you, “ Jus’ fer mah coffee, ‘n t’read,” holding up a thick paperback. He gestures to the rest of the cafe. “Wouldnae bother you, but this’s the only open chair.”

The shop is unusually crowded. You frown up at him. “I’m really busy.”

“Willnae hear a peep from me,” he promises, setting down his coffee and pulling out the chair across from you. He turns the chair so he’s facing more of the room instead of the corner you’re in. And he opens his book.

You watch him for a minute, but he doesn’t look up. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something is wrong, but you do need to work. With a last wary glance at him, you settle your headphones over your ears - transparency on - and get back to organizing a data set that reminds you of a ball of duct tape.

It’s time for a break before you know it. Your companion, true to his word, hasn’t said a peep since he sat down, more than an hour ago. He barely looks up as you close your laptop before turning back to his book. He does look up when you flag down one of the servers.

“Lunch,” you say, inanely. To the server, you say, “Can I get the chicken sandwich today?”

“Chips ‘n a lemonade, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They turn to your table mate. “And for you?”

“The same, ah guess?” He raises his eyebrows at you, like he expects you to give him permission or something. He looks back at the server. “Yeah, a chicken piece for me, as well. ‘Nd a juice?”

“Separate checks?”

“Aye, ta,” the guy says. When the server leaves, he blanches. “Hope you dinnae mind.”

You do mind, but it’s not like he can sit anywhere else right now. “It’s fine.”

He sets his book on the table, and your eyebrows shoot up. Whatever you thought he’d be reading, Jurassic Park wasn’t it. He grins. “Ah ken. It’s old, yeah? But it’s a damn sight better’n the movie.”

“Isn’t that how it goes,” you say, vaguely. 

But you’ve already fallen into his trap. He turns his chair to face you, crossing his arms and leaning into the table. His eyes are unnervingly blue - somehow even bluer than Simon’s - and bright with interest. “’M serious. It’s not just that a character yells in the movie and speaks softly in the book, aye? In fact, the movie made Dr. Sattler older, aye? Great choice, emphasize ‘er expertise.” 

Aging up a woman character? You’re reluctantly intrigued. “She was a less important character in the book?”

“Nae,” the man scoffs. “She’s probably the first o’em to realize how shite the whole thing is. Notices things. Stuff the other’s aren’t payin’ attention to because she’s the plant expert, an’ naebody pays attention to plants.”

You find yourself drawn in, in spite of yourself. Johnny, as he introduces himself, has obviously been waiting for a chance to talk about it, but he’s not pushy. He excitedly pulls a pen from his pocket to doodle along with his explanations. By the time your food has arrived, he’s convinced you to at least try the audiobook.

“I cannae pay attention stuff in mah ears,” he says with a grin as he starts to dig in. “But I hear good things, if you don’t ‘ave time to sit an’ read the text.”

As you nod along, you look up and almost choke on your next swallow. Simon is outside, looking at you through the window with raised eyebrows above his usual black surgical mask. His eyes flick to give the man at your table an obvious once over. And then he turns away and walks out of sight.

“Ye alrigh’?” Johnnys’ eyebrows are up near his hairline when you look back at him. “Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y-yeah,” you say, torn between staying seated and the urge to run after Simon. You can’t help but look at the window again, but he’s gone, there’s nothing for it. “Sorry, I thought… Sorry. Yeah, I’ll get the audiobook.”

When you get home, Simon is on the couch, the TV on with the volume low. He watches you, like he always does, as you take off your shoes and shuffle around to put away your things. When you finally join him on the couch, you find that he’s watching a nature documentary. A crocodile slides under the water with barely a ripple.

“He was only sitting with me because there wasn’t anywhere else,” you rush to say.

Simon turns to cock his head at you. “You get ‘is name?”

“John. Johnny,” you answer. “He told me about his book, but I left as soon as we were done eating.”

“Good,” he says with a nod. He lifts the arm closest to you, pulling you close as you settle into his side. “’S good to have friends, Precious.”

“He’s not a friend. Just some guy out to lunch like everyone else.” 

“You let him stay,” Simon points out. He squeezes you in a rough approximation of a one armed hug. “Been nervous around people, but you’re gettin’ better.”

This isn’t what you expected. You can’t help but side-eye him. “You’re… proud of me?”

Simon’s lips press gently against your forehead. “’S long as you pick better this time, I don’t mind you ‘aving friends. Can’t keep you all to myself forever. ‘Sides, you’ve marked me proper, ‘aven’t you? Got me as your little pet. Johnny’s not gonna be a problem.”

The little pink scar around his ribs is little more than a raised line. You slide your fingers under his shirt to pet at it. Among all of his scars, it’s one of the smallest. You’d cried the first time he’d let you see under the bandages.

“You’re not a pet,” you grumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re an alligator who won’t leave my house.”

“Your alligator, now,” Simon agrees. He focuses back on the television, seemingly done with the conversation.

You could leave it at that. But you turn to face him, instead. “You’re not mad?”

“Not unless ‘e ‘urts ya.” Simon presses his lips against your hair. “An’ I wouldn’t let that ‘appen.”

The following week, though, he stands over you with an exaggerated grimace at how crowded the place is. “Och, d’ya mind?”

Johnny is there the next time you go to the cafe. He waves from his table, but ducks back into his notebook without waving you over. So you work from your own table in peace. When you take a break for lunch, he’s gone. Two days later, it’s the same. It’s easier to concentrate, now that you’re less worried that he’ll take the conversation from the other day as an invitation. 

With a sigh, you clear some space for him. But just like last time, he keeps to himself, reading and occasionally jotting things down in his notebook. It’s not until just before lunch that he breaks the silence.

“D’y’ve a boyfriend then?” You can’t keep yourself from cringing fast enough, apparently, because he laughs. “Sorry, sorry, shouldnae asked.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumble.

“Aw,” he coos. “Don’ worry hen. You’re right bonnie. Ah’m sure they’ll come around, whoever they are.”

That would be sweet, if it wasn’t so painfully off base. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Oh, you’re right done wit’ me,” he laughs. “Ah ken’t I shoulda kept mah mouth shut. Ma always said runnin’ mah mouth would get me into trouble. I won’t bother ye again.” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t push, and you’re grateful. But when it comes time to pay for lunch, he insists on paying. It grates on your nerves. A gift from a guy is never just generosity, you learned that long before Brandon. But you clench your jaw and pack your bag up a bit more roughly than usual and say your goodbyes.

“They didn’t have the brownies you wanted,” you announce as you return home from the grocer, two days later. “I think it was a limited edi…tion…”

You notice Simon watching through the window, but he’s there and gone before you can get a read on his expression.

There’s a smattering of blood on the entryway carpet.

You don’t drop the bag with the eggs, but only because your muscles are locked up. Did someone break into the apartment? Was Simon here when they did, or next door? Did they leave? Did he take them?

A sound makes you gasp before you bite your tongue hard enough to taste blood. And then again, a muffled groan, close, from the direction of your couch. 

It’s not Simon’s voice.

You gently set your bags down and reach behind the coats for the blackjack Simon insisted on leaving there for security. There’s a rustling. Another groan. You stoop low, trying to make yourself a smaller target, and creep around the edge of the couch.

When you see Johnny, bound and gagged, shirt covered in blood where he lies on the floor, your stomach drops so fast you feel dizzy.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you whisper, dropping the jack with a thump. You crawl over to him, looking around frantically. Simon is nowhere to be seen. But he did this. He had to have done this. Right?

Johnny twitches, groans again, eyelids fluttering open. When he sees you, his eyes go wide, and he frantically tries to sit up.

“No, don’t! I don’t know where you’re hurt,” you hiss. You reach around his head to untie the cloth that’s gagging him. “Oh my god-”

“We gotta get out’f here, bonnie,” he grunts, leaning into your hands as you help him upright. He spits blood on the floor. “No tellin’ when that mental bastard gets back.”

“Oh god,” you whisper again, touching the front of his shirt. It’s dark and sticky in a bloom across his chest. “Where are you hurt? Did he stab you?”

“Ah’m okay,” he grunts. “A bit banged up, but ah’ll live.”

You swallow down the urge to vomit. “There’s a lot of blood, Johnny.”

“S’nae all mine,” he answers. “C’mon, untie me, before Simon gets back.”

You’re shifting to reach behind him before your mind catches up. You can feel the blood drain from your face. “W-what? What did you say?”

“We need to get out of here!”

“No, you said his name, you called him - ”

“Simon? That’s what ye called him when you came home,” he hisses. 

“No, I didn’t,” you whisper, body stuttering between frozen and electrified. You never call Simon’s name where others can hear. “And - and I - you - you were unconscious.”

Shining blue eyes stare into yours from two inches away. Johnny’s bloody mouth curls into a smile. “Oh, he’s trained you up good, he has.”

You scream when he lunges forward, huge arms grabbing at you. 

His weight crushes the air out of your lungs when your back hits the ground. You twist under him, using the arm he hasn’t trapped to grab his hair and yank. He swears, and loosens his hold just enough that you’re able to free your other hand and jab him in the throat.

You expect the way that he chokes, but the hand he’s twisted in the back of your shirt stays locked tight. He coughs out a frenzied laugh as you twist. Your heart races as he prevents you from getting your knees up between your belly and his. But he doesn’t expect you to hammer the heel of your boot against the back of his knee, or how you use the leverage against his leg to roll away onto your belly. 

He doesn’t let go of you, but that’s fine, that’s okay, as long as you can reach under the edge of the couch. Johnny pounces, body curling around you without quite pinning you down. His fingers twist into your hair in an echo of how you wrenched at him. But he doesn’t stop your hand, grabbing the leg of the couch and then reaching under and up and-

“Try again, Bonnie,” Johnny chuckles into your ear when your hand meets nothing but cotton and wood.

Your heart doesn’t have time to stop. The grinding pain between your hip bone and the floor makes you pop up your pelvis and reach down. The tiny knife, Little K, jumps to your hand. It’s so easy to flick it open, you think you almost cut your own belly as you heave. Johnny rides you for a moment, then pops up onto his knees to let you roll freely.

You don’t have time to decide, gut or femoral, you just swing. Denim parts, pressure - 

Johnny yelps.

His weight is suddenly gone, and the arc of your arm slams the back of your hand and your elbow onto the carpet. It’s a shock, almost hard enough to make you drop the knife. You flick your eyes around, nearly blind with tunnel vision, and see Johnny standing over you. His jeans are slashed, outer thigh almost to crotch, but you can’t see blood, fuck.

He sways, oddly. Is your vision swimming? He doesn’t descend on you again, though, just laughs and wiggles. One of his feet isn’t on the ground, his injured leg is dangling, did you get him?

You imagine you can see Simon’s face, a little angry and a little amused. If you die here, Johnny will live to see his own intestines, you know it. Even if you survive, he won’t. Simon might gift you another skull. The thought almost has a laugh bubbling out of you. 

“You stupid motherfucker,” you hiss. 

“Oh, now you’ve done it.”

Simon’s voice startles you into action. You’re off your back and scrabbling backward in and instant as he manifests behind Johnny. Except, you realize, that Simon is holding Johnny up, one arm snaked under Johnny’s and hand around the back of his neck. That’s why Johnny looks off balance, it’s because he is, because Simon is here, he’s going to save you-

“Did real good, Precious,” Simon says with a grin. “Knew you’d get along.”

What? “What?”

Simon says something else, but you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears. But you hear it when Johnny laughs. You see when Simon releases him with a ruffle to his mohawk and a shove toward the armchair. Before you know it, Simon’s scooped you into his arms and taken his usual seat on the couch. He pries the knife from your hand and snaps it closed. 

“Told you I was thinkin’ of gettin you a dog,” Simon rumbles, sitting you in his lap so your back is against his chest. Before you can protest that no, he never once mentioned a fucking dog, he continues, “This’n’s mostly ‘ousebroken, already. Soap needs a firm ‘and, but you c’n ‘andle him. 

Soap? What the fuck does soap have to do with anything? What kind of a name is…

"Oi!” Simon barks. “Off the furniture.”

Your stomach drops as you remember John Price, two months ago now. “Soap’s supposed to be my troublemaker, not you.” Soap.

When your wide eyes swing to him,  Johnny’s face is split into a toothy grin. He tips his head back against the seat of the arm chair. One of his hands touches the blood blooming through his jeans and brings it up to his lips. He laves his tongue over his fingers. “Ah’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know you, Bonnie.”

A part of you wants to get up and slit his throat. The rest of you slumps back into Simon’s chest and bursts into tears.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field // epilogue

summary: seven years later.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. this part is quite tame! idk, discussion of the games as a concept is pretty messed up? obviously r & coryo are both delusional but whats new??

a/n: this is it :') thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

~ seven years later ~

"You've got this, Darling. It's going to be perfect." Coryo insists, kissing your temple as you relentlessly adjust your hair, trying to tame any imaginary flyaways in your flawlessly straightened hair.

"As long as it's not a disaster..." You mumble, giving up on your hair and refocusing on making sure you have all your papers.

Arena map? Check. Tribute and mentors list? Check. Schedule?

"With you in charge, I do not doubt that it will be anything short of flawless. I know you. You wouldn't have it any other way." Your husband assures you, taking your spot in front of the large mirror to adjust his red coat, matching to yours.

You sigh, tucking the large stack of meticulously organized papers into your bag. "I mean, does anyone honestly expect it to be perfect? It's my first games... There's a small margin for error, right?"

"No." Coryo replies sternly, turning to face you. He grabs your chin as you groan, forcing your eyes to meet his. "There's no room for error, but it will be perfect. So don't worry." He plants a gentle kiss on your lips. "And if you need anything, just call."

"Okay..." You hum, smiling as you look up at him. "I'm going to miss you, though." Your smile shifts into a pout, and he kisses your forehead.

"I know. I'll miss having my assistant around, too." He mumbles against the softness of your skin.

Your time working together under Dr. Gaul had been a dream. Why did everything have to change all at once? You've been together every day for years, and you had the most fun helping plan the games and pitching all your ideas to Dr. Gaul, staying up late over ideas due the next morning and too many cups of coffee, giggling over how funny it would be to see a games where the people of the Districts got to vote over who to send in.

"Do you think it's because that's kind of what happened to Lucy Gray?" You giggled in the dark, feeling Coryo's form shift under the blankets next to you before you felt his breath hit the side of your face.

"Now that you mention it..." He laughed quietly. "Yeah, it totally was."

You had always come up with Dr. Gaul's favourite ideas together. But now, she was gone. And it was just you. You honestly thought that woman was some kind of immortal beast, but clearly, no one is fully bulletproof.

She had offered the position of Head Gamemaker to both of you in her will. You and Coriolanus had worked well together, she had always said that about you. That the two of you were her favourite experiment.

"No, Darling. You take it."

"What? No, we've always done everything together." You protest, furrowing your brow. "She's offered it to both of us, we can do whatever we want, no more waiting for her approval. We can run with it! Come on, it'll be so fun, Coryo."

"That's your dream. Not mine." He smiled at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You frowned, focussing yourself on pulling the buttons of his shirt so they were perfectly aligned. "Are... Are you sure? I don't know if I can do it without you."

"You'll never do anything without me, you know that." He hummed, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "If you need help, just ask. I'm right here. Always."

"I'm not an assistant anymore." You laugh. "Technically, you're kind of my assistant now." You shrug, leaning down to pull on your shoes, white with bottoms red to match your coat.

"Okay, well, I wouldn't put it like that..." He laughs, shaking his head at you and holding out a hand to steady you while you adjust yourself to accommodate your heels.

You take it gratefully, standing up and brushing off your coat once more with your free hand. "Be honest, Coryo, do you think the bear is too much? I feel a little like it's cheating, they don't even really have a chance. Do you get what I mean?"

"Darling," He cups your cheeks in his hands. "No one will be able to look away. That's the most important part."

"I just... I want it to be something different. Something people will still want to watch."

"Everyone will be watching." He assures you. "Now, let's get going. You have a big day ahead."

"Yes sir, Mister President."

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, your favourite and only host of the annual Hunger Games on Capitol TV, and I have a very special treat for you all this morning before the beginning of the games." You gently remove your coat as you sit down across from Lucky, holding it out for someone to take before the cameras flit your way, though the live audience can already see you.

"For anyone who lives under a rock, this beautiful woman here with me is our lovely First Lady of Panem, and now, Head Gamemaker, Dr. Y/N Snow." He continues as your coat is taken away, and you smile across at him. "Thank you so much for squeezing us into your very busy schedule. Now, how are you feeling about today, Miss Snow?"

"Doctor is fine." You correct him politely, to which he utters a quick apology. "And I am feeling very good about my first games. Dr. Gaul left some big shoes to fill, but I've been working with her for years so I have some really exciting ideas that I just can't wait for the world to see."

"Yes! I'm certain you do." Lucky grins. "Now, I don't know how much of our audience will remember this, but the first time we met was during the tenth games, I was hosting for the first time and you and your husband were both mentors! Just young academy students with some big dreams, isn't that right?"

You laugh, nodding as he speaks and letting the cheers die down. "Yes, I remember that. All of us were kind of getting a feel for how things would work, and my husband was actually the one who came up with the ideas of betting and sponsorships. He has truly always been such a leader, and so smart. He was the one who asked Dr. Gaul if I could help him with his mentorship, and she agreed, and then she just really loved how well we worked together so she kept us around to study under her all these years. It has been such a fun and kind of... fulfilling journey for us both."

"And now, here you are." He nods at you.

"Here I am." You echo it back to him, waiting for another question.

"Now, we have to address what can only be described as the elephant in the room..." He starts, and you try and hide your confused look as you straighten your posture. If there was some kind of problem you should have been made aware before you set foot on stage. "That summer, after your mentorship. Tell us. What happened? Both of you disappeared off the face of the earth right after your success in the games, then came back with these shiny new internships under Dr. Gaul, how did you swing that?"

"Oh!" You laugh, partially relieved it wasn't about these games, but hesitant because everyone knows better than to bring up the tenth games in any sort of detail. "Well, that was the beginning of our internship with Dr. Gaul, and she wanted us to gain some life experience, so we did some touring of the Districts on our own to get to know the people of Panem better. Neither of us had ever left home before, so it was definitely a unique experience that I think was really good for both of us. It was a super secret thing, for some reason. We weren't even to tell our families."

"I see! Well, I hope you learned everything you sought out to?"

"We did." You nod. "And more."

"Okay, well, with that cleared up, tell us more about the games you have planned for us this year. Is there anything new we should be expecting?"

"Oh, definitely." You nod, smiling wide now that you can once again talk about your games. "But I wouldn't want to spoil anything, so everyone will just have to watch." You shrug.

"I don't know if you are aware of this, Dr. Snow," He leans in a little closer, smile on his face. "But one new thing that we know for sure is changing this year, is that the president, your husband, has made it mandatory to watch the games. Not just here in the Capitol, but everywhere in the Districts as well. He made an announcement just this morning, he wants everyone to see what you've worked so hard for."

"Aw." You blush, pressing your hands to your chest. "That's so sweet! No, I didn't know that." The audience eats up your reaction, and you try to keep your eyes on him instead of acknowledging all the clapping and shouts from below you.

"Well, that's just about the cutest surprise! He has a lot of confidence in you." He laughs, reaching over and patting your leg. "You've all heard it here, he's just as good a husband as he is a president!"

"It's true." You agree, hardly audible over the crowds enthusiasm.

"Speaking of your husband..." He says, turning back to look into the wing of the stage and nodding at someone. "He set us up with a little surprise for you, if you don't mind."

"Oh, please." You laugh, covering your face as your cheeks heat up. "Of course he did." You shake your head, whistles from the audience not helping your blush.

"Okay, you can look now. Don't hide!" Lucky laughs, and you lower your hands from in front of your face to be presented with a bouquet of white and red roses. It wasn't an extravagant gift from him, the amount of roses he has gifted to you since your return from Twelve together is astronomical by now, but it's a gesture you cherish nonetheless. You smile as you take them.

"Beautiful, as always." You grin, making a point of smelling them before handing them back to the assistant who's waiting with a vase for them.

"And we have one more thing here, I believe..." He hums, looking back again while you're distracted passing off the wrapped flowers.

When you turn back to look at him you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, fearless of whether or not you would smudge your lipstick. "Is that for me?" You ask, voice higher in octave from the excitement as one of the stagehands walks out with a small dog, fur dyed a soft shade of red with a matching bow around its neck.

"Indeed it is!" Lucky laughs as you're handed the puppy.

"Oh my god..." You smile, tears brimming in your eyes. "Hi there..."

"I think there's a note for you there too..." Lucky urges you and you grab the tag tied onto the bow. "Mind reading it for us?" He says, holding his handkerchief out to you.

"Thank you," You laugh, dabbing under your eyes with your free hand. "A new assistant to match your shoes." You read, laughing at the inside joke.

Everyone laughs, and you get from Lucky's confused expression that you should explain. "Uh, working under Dr. Gaul we would always joke that he was my assistant and vice versa." You laugh, wiping your eyes again before you continue. "I am so proud of you. Finally, the world will see you as I do. Intelligent, strong, and beautiful. Unstoppable. That's why I love you, you're as pure as the driven Snow."

The audience awe's, but you know none of them get it the way you do. "Another inside joke." You nod at Lucky, trying to hold back from crying so much you turn into a mess.

"I stand corrected. That is the cutest surprise." He points to the dog in your lap. "Both literally and figuratively."

"I don't know what I'll do with it." You laugh, shaking your head as the puppy jumps up against your chest, trying to lick your face.

"How about a name, to start?" Lucky prompts you.

"Oh, gosh. Well..." You giggle, lifting it and setting it back down so it will sit in your lap. It's so small, hardly bigger than your hands. It'll likely never grow larger than your lap. It's perfect. "What about Lucky?" You tease.

"Oh, you flatter me, Y/N. Come on, something better."

"I don't know!" You laugh. "I'm not good at naming... things."

Lucky laughs. "Our Head Gamemaker with no ideas? That seems unlikely."

"Okay, okay. You're just putting me on the spot here, I'm a little nervous." You laugh, stroking over the dog's head. "I tell you what, before the games begin this morning I'll come up with twelve names, assign them randomly to the districts, then whoever shall win the games will determine the name of my dog. Does that sound fair?"

"Ah! That's brilliant!" Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "And that's a good incentive for anyone who hasn't yet placed their bets or sent in donations for the tributes! Your donation may just be what gives the First Lady's dog its name. How fun!"

"It'll be interesting." You giggle, looking down at the puppy in your lap. It must have been white before the dye, it took so well. Maybe it will fade into a pink before it grows out its natural white fur- you wouldn't want it to stay red forever, but for show, it was perfect.

"Now, we really shouldn't be taking up any more of your time. You have a busy day ahead!" Lucky says and you nod in agreement, standing up and carefully tucking the small dog under your arm. "Thank you for making time for us, I know I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store for us."

"Thank you. I really hope you all enjoy the games!" You smile, holding out a hand for him to shake which he takes quickly, then allowing you to walk off the stage.

As predicted by a certain Mister President; Coriolanus Snow, your first games as Head Gamemaker went without a hitch. They were perfect in every way. Capitol citizens were buzzing- not just about the games, the mutts you incorporated into the newly decorated arena, or the most shocking kills, but also about your dog. The people loved her, and so did you. She hardly ever left your lap or your side for the duration of the games, which only lasted a matter of days.

The party your husband threw for you at the presidential palace, your home, at the end of the games was extravagant. Coryo couldn't help but broadcast his pride to all of the Capitol. He loved you; you were his, and he needed everyone to know. Not a soul in all the world was anywhere close to being on your level, and shaping you into the perfect wife and First Lady was what Coriolanus Snow considered his greatest achievement. As you stood next to him, his palm tucked neatly against your lower back, you were perfect. More perfect than you were the day you fought for a spot in the mentorships that he granted you, more perfect than the he first time he kissed you, and more perfect than both of the days he had killed someone for you. Without question, he would do it all again if it meant he would get to hold you even just one more time.

"I'm so proud of you, Love." He gently rubs your back, looking down at you while you overlook your garden from the patio off of your bedroom.

You smile, standing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Snow lands on top." You whisper, biting your lip when you see a shift behind his eyes.

"You bet we do." He hums with a smug smile, lifting you up and carrying you back inside.

And somewhere, thousands of miles away in the Northern shambles of a still recovering District Thirteen, while you and your husband are celebrating, Sejanus Plinth and Lucy Gray Baird share knowing, sorrowful glances when it's announced on the crackling radio that the winner of the Seventeenth Annual Hunger Games was a boy from District Two, and because of this, the First Lady of Panem's dog shall be called Sage.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

[cheolsfae]

𓆦 Skz when they aren't your bias

Requested: nope!

Genre: Fluff n stuff

Warning(s): Suggestive (?), slight possessiveness

Reblogs are appreciated! Requests are open! 🩵

Bang Chan:

He was absolutely thrown off. He didn’t understand why Minho was your bias. No, he wasn’t upset when you told him. Sure, his ego was bruised but that was the most he felt about it. At least, as much as he was aware of. You on the other hand knew better than that. He needed that reassurance. He had walked into the apartment seeing you on the kitchen table organizing your photocard collection (most of them of Minho). “Hey.” you piped up as he approached you. He greeted you back, he let out a groan as he picked up one of the cards. “Do you really need all the pictures of him?” You laughed lightly. No, you absolutely did not. In fact, the ones you should have should be of Chris. Or at least, that’s what he believes. “Yeah, I do. He’s so handsome! Don’t you think so?” He did not like that at all. He moved away from you and to the fridge pulling out a water bottle. His whole energy had changed. You were just teasing but today had been a rough day, you thought. He threw himself on the couch in the living room. You walked on over to him, sitting next to him, cuddling into his shoulder. It was silent for a few moments before you spoke up, “You know you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on?” Yeah, it was corny but if it made him feel better you were going to say it. He laughed lightly, “Didn’t you just say that about Minho?” You clicked your tongue. Never has that sentence ever left your mouth nor would it ever. Mostly because it wasn’t true! “I did not. I just said he was handsome, but you are the most handsome.” He pursed his lips and nodded, “Damn right, I am.” Back to his cocky self.

Minho:

Offended! He was very offended. Why was Changbin your bias? He was obviously better (in his own opinion). Changbin was almost the opposite of him. Minho was more “quiet” or at least that’s what he liked to believe about himself. Why would someone as quiet and innocent, like yourself, like someone so “chaotic and troublesome”? Well, you had many reasons why but you knew if you started to list them off, it would only make things worse with him. He was only going to get more jealous and possessive than he already was. As of now, you were not allowed to be alone in a room with Changbin due to this little fact he found out a few days ago. Prior to this, he was okay with it but after you had admitted it, he didn’t like it one bit. One of the other guys or himself had to be present. Yes, this was annoying. He needed to have a little more faith in you. Changbin wasn’t going to steal you away from him and he needed to know that you had chosen him over everyone. You only wanted him. At dinner tonight, that’s what you had told him. “I know that, but it doesn’t mean I like that he’s your bias and I’m not.” You rolled your eyes. It was going to be a long night with him. “Minho,” You grabbed his face in between your hands, squishing his cheeks. “I chose you. I’m with you. He isn’t going to change that. Nothing will. I’m forever yours.” With that being said, he smirked. “Mine? Prove it.”

Changbin:

Were you being serious right now? Was it really Hyunjin? How could you bias anyone besides your lovely boyfriend? No, he wasn’t the tallest man nor was he the most creative when it came to “arts and crafts”. But you know what? He was built like a brick house. He was a little intimidating with his big muscles so people wouldn’t mess with you. He could protect you! And he was funny! He knew how to make you laugh until you cried. What could Hyunjin do that he couldn’t do better besides the arts and crafts… “Honey, does it really matter? It’s just a silly bias.” It really didn’t matter, he was just letting his ego get in the way. He was letting something so silly get to him. “That’s not the point! Why am I not your bias?” You turned to look at him fully with the widest grin on your face. Him being so jealous was the cutest thing you’d seen. It was nice to feel that loved sometimes. “Because I know it gets on your nerves. Even though you know good and well, that I would never trade you for anything or anyone.” His face flared in red. He was completely embarrassed. He tackled you, “Why are you so cute? Who told you, you could be this cute?”

Hyunjin:

He wasn’t too happy to hear that Jisung was your bias. Yeah, Jisung was pretty funny but so was he in his own unique way. Hell, he could even paint. Anything you wanted! Hyunjin had his own good points. He was fully cognizant of them, he just was not sure if you were. Clearly not well enough if you had chosen someone else. Though, in your eyes, you hadn’t chosen someone else. There was no one who could replace or replicate Hyunjin in any way. He was the only one for you. So when you came home one night, he had surprised you with a fancy romantic dinner. You really didn’t know what was going on. Don’t get it wrong, it was very nice and sweet of him to do, it was just completely unexpected. “What’s all this?” You asked, clearly tired from the long day at work. “I thought you needed it.” He pulled out a chair for you. You took a seat and eyed him suspiciously, what had he done that he was trying to cover up? “Thanks, sweetheart.” you kissed his cheek. “Now, what’s the real reason you did all of this?” His eyes widened, he’d been caught. “Well,” he looked away. Very suspicious of him. This wasn’t like him at all. What had he done? “I did it so you wouldn’t leave me.” You gave him an incredulous look. What the hell was he thinking? “What? What makes you think I’m leaving you?” He shook his head, he wasn’t going to talk about this right now. Well, he didn’t want to. But if he didn’t want to he shouldn’t have brought it up because you were not going to let it go. “I’m not leaving you. Where the hell did you get that idea from?” His thought process was you biased Jisung therefore you were going to leave him for the younger. After he explained it to you, you just stared at him. “Well, are you? I understand.” You shook your head vehemently. “Never. I’m never leaving you. Stop thinking that way. It’s just a silly thing. It means nothing!” You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours, kissing it gently. “You’re stuck with me until the day one of us dies. You’ve got no choice.” He smiled, he was back to himself.

Jisung:

He did not blame you one bit. He also biased Felix he admitted. Felix was so adorable, who could resist him? Doesn’t mean that he particularly liked it though. You had been spending a lot of time with Felix lately. But that was mostly because the holidays were coming up and he needed help baking desserts for everyone as a thank you and happy holidays. But that wasn't the way Jisung was perceiving it. He thought you liked Felix better. When you came home from Felix's, you would tell him all of the silly little things that had happened while baking. Someone had mistaken the salt for sugar and you guys had to throw out a whole batch. Or when you had fallen and all of the cookie dough landed on the roof and stuck. Chris wasn't too happy about that but it was still funny. "Why don't you go with me tomorrow? We could always use more hands." He scowled, "No thanks, I'd rather not see my partner and best friend flirting." you clicked your tongue, hitting him lightly. "We aren't flirting. Come with me." He didn't say anything for a second. "It's clear you've had your eye on him since the very beginning. Remember? He's your bias." You knew you shouldn't have said anything to him about that. It was bound to start an argument one way or another. "And? I'm with you and he's one of my friends. You're the only chipmunk I want. No matter how good of a baker he is." You teased, trying to lightly the mood. "Chipmunk?" You nodded, "I'd better be."

Felix:

Devastated wasn’t even the word to describe what he felt! He was annihilated! Completely destroyed. How could you bias anyone but him? Was he not cute enough? Honestly, it was a matter of him not feeling good enough for you. The man was more than enough for you, you just happened to bias Seungmin. This had happened way before the two of you had even met. Seungmin has been your bias pretty much since day one. This wasn’t something you chose, your bias had chosen you. That was the way you had explained it to Felix, at least. The explanation didn’t make him feel any better though. He felt like he was not good enough to attract you in the first place. Which was the furthest thing from the truth! He was more than enough for you! “If that’s true then, why Seungmin?” You really didn’t know how to respond to this. Yes, you had reasons for biasing Seungmin but it would sound like you wanted to be with him more than you wanted to be with Felix which was not the case! You were afraid he would misunderstand you like he already had once before. You weren’t going to lie to him either, though. “Because of how he takes care of you when I’m not around.” Which wasn’t a lie. It was true, Seungmin did take care of Felix for you, it was the biggest reason why. “Really?” He asked, close to tears. The poor baby had taken it to heart! You nodded your head. His smile was slowly returning. You patted his head, “Feel better?” He nodded, cleaning up some of the tears threatening to fall. “Good, now come here!” You shouted before tackling him and smothering him in the affection he deserved.

Seungmin:

Jeongin? Really? Jeongin? Over himself? This was kind of surprising. He wasn’t expecting it to be him. Maybe Minho or Felix. Felix would have made the most sense, he was adorable. But no, you had chosen Jeongin. Maybe it was because he was the baby of the group? Nonetheless, he trusted you and knew you wouldn’t leave him for anyone else. He had his full trust and faith in you. Jeongin on the other hand was a different story. Mainly, because he knew the youngest would give him hell for it. He wasn’t going to be living this down anytime soon. Anytime Jeongin had the chance, he lept on it to mess with Seungmin. The whole thing was more of an inconvenience than anything else. “You have to tell him you don’t bias him anymore. I don’t know how much more teasing I can take from him. Not to mention, it’s the same joke 80 times in a row. It’s nothing he hasn’t said before.” You laughed at your partner who was flopped over on the couch. “Is it really that bad or are you just exaggerating?” He gave you a blank stare. Of course it was that bad, he wasn’t one to exaggerate like that. “Okay, if it’ll make you feel better then I’ll tell him someone else is my bias. I’ll say I switched lanes.” You giggled. “Oh? Are you going to tell him it’s me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Pft, no. I’ll probably say it’s Changbin or something.” He glared jokingly at you before groaning and laying face down in the pillows, “Why does my partner hate me?” You laughed and patted his head, he was going to live through this just fine.

Jeongin:

He very well understood why but that didn’t mean that he liked it. Chris was strong, talented, and very caring. There were good characteristics about him that your partner understood why you’d biased him, he just flat out didn't like it. Whenever Chris would come and talk to you while I.N. was doing something else, he'd watch you and make sure nothing funky was going on between the two of you. Nothing was ever going to happen between you two and he knew that, but he couldn't shake his paranoid feelings about it. One time, you had reached your limit with it and you marched over to him with a stern look on your face, "Do you not trust me? Do you not trust Chan? What is it?" He was taken aback by the suddenness of the confrontation. "I trust you both." you sighed heavily, "Then why are you watching us like a hawk?" He went silent for a few seconds. "Because I- I don't know. He's your bias and it makes me nervous." You furrowed your brows, "I'm not leaving you for him. Your stuck with me." You pushed your index finger to his forehead, giving him a light push. He smiled apologetically , "Good."

[skzhua]

a price i'm willing to pay | part 14 - the sparklers.

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, alcohol.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

"Wonhee will be there!" you exclaimed as you tossed your phone away.

Both Hyunjin and Minho looked at you curiously. "Who?" Hyunjin asked.

Minho was quick to hit his arm, causing the man to wince at the touch. "You've met her before, don't act like you don't know who she is."

"I would but I genuinely have no idea."

"Y/N's sister," Chan informed as he joined the three of you with a clipboard in hands. "We saw her at the bar last time we went."

"Right," Hyunjin hummed with a frown.

"Alright," Chan continued. "Hyunjin, we still have the pictures with Lix to take and then your part will be over. Jisung?"

The assistant hurried to his boss and smiled. "Here."

"Could you and Changbin change the background?"

Your best friend let out a grunt. "Again?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you said with a glare and it was plenty to shut him off and make him join Jisung at the task.

Things were advancing well with the campaign. You had much more positive feedback, even if many still believed you had tried to poison your clientele. Nonetheless, people were loving seeing you and Chan interact in such ways that they would have never thought of seeing ever. Still, he remained very unpleasant towards you, but you weren't any better so it was a fair game.

"Hair and makeup done!" Felix cheered as he walked in the studio, his GoPro pointed towards himself. "Y/N has chosen beautiful colours as you can see," he showed his eye makeup. "And, of course, Chan's new cream was used for my skin."

"Do you ever stop filming?" Jisung rolled his eyes.

"And we have our beloved Jisung who seem to be pretty grumpy this afternoon."

They continued to bicker in the background which made you chuckle as you moved on with sorting products out. You peeked at your checklist to make sure you had everything you needed and began to check the items. It wasn't long after that Chan leaned next to you on the table. With his rolled up sleeves of his black buttoned shirt, he perked an eyebrow as he watched you intensely. You did your best to ignore him but the man was not budging.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" you said between your teeth.

"Busy doing something totally unnecessary. Might I say, Y/N, I am disappointed," he said in a cheeky way.

"I prefer double-checking and being organized, is that so wrong?"

He shrugged. "I just think you're wasting time. Besides, the guys have the makeup on already. What's the point in checking?"

"In case we forgot, we can still put it– Why am I even bothering to explain this to you?" you groaned, dropping the list on the table and walking off.

This might have been the tenth encounter of this sort that you'd had with him today and knowing he was still going to be around until late at night, this was not encouraging in any way. Perhaps backing out and staying at home was a better option.

But having Wonhee as a sister meant she had to force you to come along, especially since you were the one to invite her technically. After you had went back home, washed up and changed, you were walking to the club with your arms linked. Jeongin was the one to change the destination, arguing that it would be more fun than a regular restaurant with alcohol on the side.

"So how many are we going to be exactly?" Wonhee questioned you as you were getting closer to your destination.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you counted in your mind. "Let's see... Well, Bin and Minho obviously so them plus us is four. Jeongin, that makes us five. Chan and his staff, so that's now eight... And with Hyunjin and Felix, that makes us ten," you smiled.

Your sister, however, looked at you doubtfully. "Chan's staff... Does it mean..?"

You chuckled. "Yes, Seungmin will be there."

She stopped on her tracks right away. "You didn't think of telling me that?"

"When I said everyone would be there, I thought it obviously implied Seungmin."

"Y/N, I can't meet him like this!" she shouted while looking down at her outfit.

"You look fine," you rolled your eyes.

Forcefully, you dragged her all the way to the club as she babbled about how ugly she looked — though she was very much adequately dressed for the occasion. As you walked in, it didn't take long for you to spot the tall Hyunjin who was chatting with the one you dreaded to see once again. Chan had, for once, decided to let go of his usual dark attires and wore a tight white shirt with oversized pants. His hair was slicked back and he adorned his ears with silver jewellery. You couldn't deny he looked fine as hell, especially with the lighting that emphasized the veins on his arms. The way he was leaning on the table and taking a few sips of his drink was insanely attractive.

"You're staring," Wonhee commented and you glared at her.

"I spotted Hyunjin, that's all."

She definitely did not believe you and was about to make another remark until her eyes fell upon Seungmin. Instantly, she froze on the spot with a gulp.

"Who's staring now?" you laughed and it was her turn to glare.

"And the Ko sisters have arrived!" Jeongin exclaimed as he came to join you along with Minho, engulfing you two into his embrace. "I managed to reserve a table for everyone."

He led you to where you had previously stared at and didn't let you say a thing before sitting you down next to Chan. You were about to get up and yell at your friend but a hand grabbed your wrist to pull you back down. Again, you were seated and Chan's grasp moved from your wrist to your shoulder.

"What-"

He put a finger on your mouth, shushing you. "There are people around, we're a couple right now."

As you scanned the club, you saw how some people had stopped to greet Hyunjin and Jeongin while others took pictures. Right, you were surrounded with well-known models. You hesitantly snuggled into his embrace before he placed a small peck on the top of your head. It took everything in you to not puke right there and then.

"Get a room," Felix joked as he sat on your other side. "Since when do you kiss her?"

Chan sighed. "It wasn't a kiss. Don't you have more important things to do instead of judging me?"

"I do, you're right. So? Who's paying tonight? I need to get myself something to drink."

Seungmin joined in and took his credit card out. "I don't mind paying this time."

This caused Wonhee's eyes to glow and she rushed to the man. "Seungminnie, could I get something too?"

"Of course," he said with a smirk.

You noticed Minho — who had watched the interaction with much displeasure — rolling his eyes with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his newly bought cocktail. Poor guy.

"Could you please order my drink as well, Felix?" you asked the man as he snatched Seungmin's card out of his hand.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

To this, Chan's eyes darkened at his friend. Before you could give your answer, he spoke for you. "I'll pay for her drink, you may go."

Felix gulped, getting slightly scared of his friend, but nodded before walking to the bar. You scoffed at your fake-lover and removed his arm that laid on your shoulder.

"You really are a pain in the ass," you grunted.

"I should be the one paying for you, don't you think?"

"I can pay for myself."

He scoffed. "You say that now but asked for Felix to get you something with Seungmin's card. You had no issue with that."

"It's Seungmin, not you."

With that, you stood up and headed towards where Minho was as he was the furthest away from the man you despised so much. As he saw you approaching with fuming ears, his eyes widened.

"Woah, don't be mad at me, I did nothing," he hurried to say with his hands up.

"Where's Changbin?"

"No idea, he disappeared when we arrived."

You groaned out of frustration. "Great, it's always when I need him that he disappears."

Minho faked being hurt. "Am I not a good enough? You really prefer Changbin over me?" he cried.

You deadpanned at him. "Shut up, I'm pissed and he's the only one who can calm down. Besides, you're pissed as well, you wouldn't be much help."

"I'm not pissed," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me seeing my sister all over Seungmin doesn't fill you with anger."

That shut him up real quick and he pouted while sipping on his alcohol. From afar, the two of you looked miserable. You watched people on the dancefloor with a bored stare. It took only a few minutes for Chan to find you again and you couldn’t help but groan again.

“I’m going to find Changbin.”

Minho nodded at your statement as to say “good luck” and you took off. It was hard to walk through the sweaty crowd but, eventually found your best friend discussing with a woman who had definitely drank more than she could handle. He was quick to meet eyes with you and abandon the lady upon seeing how displeased you looked.

“What did I miss?” he asked while you stole his beer, drinking it in one go. “Woah, take it easy!”

“I won’t when this bastard is up in my ass.”

He sighed. “You can’t be saying this here.”

“Why? Because we are in public? Weren’t you the first one to disagree with this?”

“I was but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about how a small thing can ruin you again.”

You scoffed. “I’m only speaking the truth. Now, where can I get a shot?”

Changbin didn’t want to comply to your demands as he knew you would get yourself so drunk to the point you wouldn’t be able to stand. At the same time, you were so stubborn that it was impossible to get in your way sometimes. Felling guilty already, he brought you to the nearest bar and ordered four shots for the two of you. You chugged them not even a second after getting a hold of them. Wincing at the strong liquor, you still ordered one more, and one more after.

“How many has she had?” Jeongin asked in a concerned voice, watching you dance clumsily with Changbin.

“Who?” Chan said as he hadn’t really been observing what was going on.

“Your girlfriend,” Wonhee laughed as she pulled her phone out to capture the moment in a video. “Oh, she’s so going to hate me for this.”

Chan’s head shot up from his nearly empty glass to try and find you. When he did, his eyes widened at the sight. With your rosy cheeks, you were smiling admirably to your best friend who was trying his best to keep you up on your feet. He was glad you were not alone but the way you were holding to one another didn’t look as if you were only friends. It bothered him. Only because of your arrangement, of course. Before he was thinking, his body got up from his seat and he walked towards you. Without saying a thing, he separated you from Changbin and took over with holding you. You were probably too drunk to even process the change of dance partner, but Changbin only removed himself silently. He wouldn’t bother with protesting anyway; Chan’s eyes were enough to make him want to pee himself right there and then.

“How many did you drink?” he said into your ear, and you shivered.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you had too much.”

You pouted at him. “It’s your fault.”

“Mine? You were the one storming off.”

“Because you were annoying,” you cried, which made him sigh.

He dragged you all the way back to the table where the others were drinking reasonably. He sat you next to your sister, but she wasn’t much of a help. If anything, she was only laughing at your physical state and taking pictures. Sighing again, he took it upon himself to get you water to sober up. You already seemed to be a little better.

“They’re selling cakes with sparklers if it’s your birthday!” Felix said enthusiastically while pointing at the corner of the club. “We should get some.”

At this, you pushed the glass of water away from you and clapped. “Oh, for sure!”

Chan mentally cursed at himself before glaring at Felix. “Do you really want to fake a birthday only to get some cheap sparklers?”

You slapped his chest and his eyes widened from the contact. “They’re pretty.”

“So am I and you have me for free.”

Felix and Seungmin held back a laugh while you simply shrugged. “I’m getting some whether you like it or not.”

Before he could stop you, you were off with Felix, Seungmin and Wonhee to get sparklers. Who the fuck were selling these things in a club anyway? It was bound to be a disaster. He wondered if he should at least follow to keep an eye on you but the decision was quickly made when he saw you stumble on your feet, almost falling.

You felt a pair of arms holding you and you frowned. "Why do you have to act like I can't do things on my own?" you whined.

"Y/N, you almost fell face first."

Grumbling disapprovals, you still grabbed onto him for safety until you were at the cake counter. Felix was the one to discuss with the girl in charge of the cakes and they argued a bit as she noticed it was none of you's birthday. As they keot on bickering, Chan rolled his eyes as he knew he had to step in.

"Excuse me?" he cleared his throat grabbing the woman's attention.

The moment she saw he had just spoken, her posture straightened. "Mr. Bang," she almost whispered. "What an honour to have you here!"

"I understand my friends do not fit into your criterias for the cakes but I swear they only really want to play with the sparklers."

"I'm sorry, sir, but sparklers in a club-"

"I'll take them outside for when we lit them up, I promise."

By magic, this did the trick and the woman gave you about thirty of them. Seungmin went to get the others and you all went outside to lit them up. You, Felix and Jeongin were the most excited about them while Chan and Changbin were the most worried. Nonetheless, you took Minho's lighter from him as soon as he took it out of his pocket and hurried yourself to lit your sparklers up.

You admired them for what seemed to be an eternity until you ran out of them. Hyunjin declared this was enough for the night as he still had work to do the following day. The rest ended up agreeing and you all walked home.

"I'll take her," Chan said to Changbin who was not willing to let you go.

"I'm the assigned person to take her home."

"It'll be weird if a man other than her lover does it."

Changbin, for once, didn't budge. "Listen, Bang. I get you two have this thing for publicity but she is in a vulnerable state right now. While I do get your point, you're not the one who has known her for eight years and been there when she needed someone the most. Don't think because you are supposedly her boyfriend that you get to take this from us."

And he left with you.

This might have come from a deeper place than simply getting you home but Changbin had had enough. He couldn't risk you getting hurt by this man. Especially not when he had noticed how you were warming up to him.

taglist: @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @taetertotsv | @luvscrazy | @lethallyprotected | @foxinnie8 | @jisuperboard | @jihanlovic | @soobin-chois | @jinxwhore28 | @purplelandsworld | @yeojoongiee | @smugrogerina | @jaehyunicecream | @urmomlikeslinotoo | @syprosight | @thesassy-mia | @chaotic-world-of-the-j | @heartsforlevi | @miyakoa | @seungincore | @skzsilentcryy | @owotalks | @hanjsquokka | @evermourning | @bangchansbae | @qweebarse | @linosllvr | @kpopsstuffs | @tinyelfperson | @jabmastersupriseee | @imsiriuslyreal | @chrizzztopherbang | @ilovejeongin_007 | @lixie-phoria | @syds-dead | @yukichan67 | @farfromsugafanfic | @realrintaro

Copyright © 2024 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[99hook]

home for the holidays

your friends get together to help tyler surprise you at a christmas party

a/n: i just wanted to write something with some of my fav comfort characters so here we are. it turned out way sillier than i thought so it’s not gonna collect dust in the drafts. enjoy babes 🫶🏼

“Something smells delicious in here” Jack says as he walks into the kitchen. He reaches for one of the brownies on the counter before Anna smacks his hand.

“Not until everyone gets here.” She sends him a pointed look. You glance up from the cake batter you were mixing and chuckled at them.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be helping with that thing.” Skye chips in from where she stood in front of the stove, stirring melted chocolate in a pot.

“What thing?” You asked.

Jacks hand stilled as he tried to make an attempt to sneak a brownie again. His eyes adverted between you and Anna.

“Uh, the decorations.” Anna blurted, smacking his hand again before she turned him around and pushed him away from all the food. “Go help finish decorating.”

Jack nods before he walks out, and you caught the look Anna sent Skye right after. You dropped the spoon in the bowl to get their attention.

“Okay, you guys are being weird. What’s going on?” You asked. You said it harshly but you couldn’t help it. You tried not to be, but you were still sad that Tyler couldn’t make it home in time for this Christmas party.

“Nothing.” Skye shrugs, avoiding your stare. You look at Anna instead. She’s focusing solely on organizing the chocolate covered pretzels on a platter.

“Anna” You raise your brows at her.

“Hm? Nothing. We’re just trying to get everything ready before everyone gets here. We’re running short on time, is that cake batter almost mixed?”

You look down at the bowl and nod, grabbing the pan she’s handing over to pour it in.

“So what’s next?” Skye asks as she brings over the melted chocolate to pour over some more pretzels.

“Let me see” Anna scans the counter. “I think we forgot something but I can’t place my finger on it.”

“The oreo pie” You muttered as you used the spoon to smooth out the batter in the pan.

“Fuck you’re right!” Anna throws her head back. “What time is it? Six? How long does that take to make?”

“Don’t worry about it” You tell her. “I only put that on the list because Tyler wanted it when he thought he was going to be able to come. We can leave it out. I think we have enough sweets.”

“No, we should make it.” Skye says. “I like oreo pie.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, me too.” Anna nods, opening the fridge to grab some ingredients.

You placed the pan in the oven and set the timer before you turned around to help. Just then, Julia and Willow both walked into the kitchen, their arms filled with bottles.

“Sorry we’re late.” Willow says as she sets the bottles down on the table.

“It’s fine, the eggnog mix is in the fridge.” Anna says as she crushes a bag of oreos on the counter.

“Feels tense in here. And why is Tyler-“ Julia gets cut off by Anna shooting her a glare and Skye was quick to talk over.

“What time is everyone else getting here?”

“What time is it now?” Anna asks.

“Six-fifteen” Julia says as she starts preparing the eggnog with willow.

“I told everyone seven. So we need to hurry the hell up.”

“Wait, Julia-“ You looked up at her. “Why is Tyler what?”

She glanced at Anna and Skye both. She got the memo but she definitely let it slip her mind.

“He’s on the phone with Jack, I was just wondering why he isn’t here with you.”

“He couldn’t make it. His flights not until tomorrow morning.” You shrugged.

“Oh, damn that sucks.” She says as she and Willow place some glasses of eggnog on a tray.

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” Skye nudges your arm with her shoulder. “She has her girls here.”

You smiled at that, but the smile fell when you finished the toppings on the oreo pie.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. If Jack tries to steal anything one of you slap him.” Anna directs before she rushes out the kitchen.

You placed the pie in the fridge and grabbed a sponge to scrub the melted chocolate off the stove. It wasn’t long after, Anna came back to the kitchen and announced that people were starting to show up.

———

Two hours had gone by and you found yourself back in the kitchen where the food and Jack of course was.

“Don’t tell Anna I dropped those.” He points to the trash and you glance over to see a whole sheet of her sugar cookies laying at the bottom of it.

“Dropped what?” Anna asks as she comes into the kitchen. Jack throws his head back and you raise your hands up and step away.

“You wasted all my sugar cookies?!”

“It was an accident! They were so good I just got too excited and they fell out my hand, I don’t know.” He shrugs as he stuffs his mouth with the chocolate chip ones.

“You know what, c’mon-“ she grabs his arm and pulls him away from the food once again. “It’s time for secret santa, everyone! Let’s go to the living room! Secret santa time!”

You followed them and everyone started filing towards the living room. Skye caught up to you with two glasses in hand.

“Here, you’ve been so sad all night. You need this.” She says, and you take the glass even though you questioned what was even in it.

“Why is it green?” You asked.

“Christmas colors.” She cheersed her glass with yours. “It’s just dyed eggnog.”

You shrugged and sipped it. It wasn’t bad.

“Who did you get for secret santa?” She asks as she sits down on the couch next to Kyle, and you sit down on the armrest next to her.

“Jack. Thankfully Anna helped me with it cause I had no idea what to get him.”

“Leopard print socks would’ve been what I got him.” She chuckles. “I got Orange. I didn’t know what the hell to get him so I went with a jean jacket like all his other ones.”

“Safe choice” You nodded as you sipped your glass.

“Okay everyone!” Anna clapped her hands together. “I know this is secret Santa and we should play by the rules but I have to go first cause my gift is the best. Sorry but it’s true.” She grins at everyone in the room.

She taps Jacks shoulder and he gets up from the chair he was sitting at next to the christmas tree. You watched him disappear down the hall but turned back around when Skye caught your attention again.

“Do you think this eggnog is a little strong?” She asks.

You looked down at your glass and shook your head. “If anything I think it could be stronger.” You shrugged before you sipped.

“Try mine. I can mix yours like this if you like it.” She says as she hands over her glass. You take it out of her hand, and then it’s taken out of your hand from someone behind you.

You looked back and saw Tyler standing there trying to hold back his smile.

“Happy to see me?” He asks as he steps around and stands in front of you. He handed Skye her glass back and cupped your cheeks, placing three soft kisses to your lips.

You looked up at him with eyes wide and a silly grin spreading across your face.

“Told you.” Anna pats herself on the back with a satisfied smile.

“I knew there was a reason why you guys were being so weird.” You shook your head.

“Shit, I almost gave it away.” Julia remarks from the other couch. “I saw him sitting in the back of jacks car like a weirdo and forgot he was supposed to be your surprise.”

“We had to hide him.” Anna defends. It was clear that she came up with the whole plan. “And it wasn’t easy since he kept trying to ruin it.”

“I was in that backseat for three hours” Tyler says as he slings his arm around your shoulders. “I just wanted to see my girl.”

“You were outside the whole time?” You asked.

“No, Jack had to stick him in the hall closet thirty minutes ago cause he said it was getting too cold in the car.” Anna tells you.

“It was getting cold in there.” He looks down at you.

“Wait, how did you even fit in the hall closet?” Willow chuckles.

“He had to sit criss cross applesauce. I was just gonna send yn back there and find him like that but Anna said no.” Jack adds.

“Not criss cross applesauce!” Kyle bursts out laughing. “This man is six foot tall. Why didn’t you just send him to one of the bedrooms?”

“Shut up, we had to think fast.” Anna snaps back.

“You’ll never catch me sitting criss cross applesauce in a closet.” Julia chuckles.

“I feel like that’s something you would do.” Jack chimes in.

“Who says criss cross applesauce? Are we in kindergarten?” Tyler looks around at everyone before he looks down at you with a smirk.

“Who sits criss cross applesauce in a closet?” Orange teases.

“Jack said if I ruined the surprise he was gonna be dealing with a pissed off girlfriend.” Tyler shrugs. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“Sounds like she didn’t buy you anything, Y/N.” Orange commented from the corner he sat in. Anna shot him a glare but everyone else in the room laughed.

You looked over at her and smiled when the laughter died down. “She couldn’t have gotten me anything better than this. Thank you Anna, you’re seriously the best.”

“I know.” She bashfully smiles before she sits down on Jack’s lap.

You feel Tyler’s arms sneak around your waist as he sways you side to side. He leans down and places a kiss to your cheek before he whispers, “I got you an even better gift, but I can’t give it to you here.”

A blush crept up to your cheeks as you leaned your head back against his chest, about to whisper something back before you were interrupted by Jack saying,

“I just heard all that. Please work on your whispering skills.”

“Yeah, I heard that too.” Skye chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Unfortunately so did I.” Orange mutters as he drops his head.

The room erupted in laughter and Tyler dropped his head to your shoulder to muffle a laugh of his own.

“Anyway, time for everyone else’s gifts. Good luck topping mine.” Anna pridefully announces.

As soon as everyone started passing around gifts Tyler determined that they were distracted enough. He turned you around and you recognized the mischievous look in his eye immediately.

“Sneak out?”

“The closets roomier than you think.” He shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

“Seriously Tyler, what the fuck” Jack called him out again. “My jackets are in that closet!”

You had to bury your face in his hoodie to hide the way your face blushed and when you pulled back he was doing all he could to hold back the widest grin.

“So sneak out?” You whispered.

“Sneak out.” He nodded.

———

taglist: @madhatterbri @730hook @multi-fandom-things730 @willowgreens @shawtys-things @justdamnpeachy @wickedval @730bliss @theworldofotps @madds-97 @gethooked @benjaminka @5secondsofmoxley @cypherpart15 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @littlemissbliss06

still getting used to adding the taglist and i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone. lmk if you wanna be added/removed!

[actual-changeling]

Aziraphale Does NOT Have Depression

or: Please Have a Look at the ICD

or: This Word Does Not Mean What You Think It Does

I cannot believe I even have to make this post, but here we are. Hi. Hello guys. Maybe I should start a series called "Alex fact-checks meta posts" because I have seen things that should have never been written.

A small excursion before we start: The way things usually work in academic circles is that the person making the claim needs to provide proof for said claim, which is then peer-reviewed by unrelated academic parties. That involves not only making sure that the results they are basing their claim on are replicable—meaning that if someone else were to do the same work, they would receive the same result—but also that their methods were ethical and functional.

If it turns out that their methods or any other part of the process are not replicable, functional, or otherwise waterproof, then the paper is marked as not being correct and that it should be disregarded.

While this is far from academic circles, these rules still apply to any kind of conversation or discussion, especially that last part:

If you make a claim, back it up, or it should be disregarded.

With that, welcome to the peer-review of "Aziraphale has depression" claims. Obligatory note that this is not about fanfiction or headcanons but people claiming that Aziraphale canonically has depression.

You may sit in front of your screen and think Alex, why do you think you can write this post? To which I happily respond that not only am I professionally diagnosed with both Dysthymia and Recurrent Depressive Disorder, I have also a) done my research offline with psychiatrists and psychologists and b) know how to read academic literature because my degree very much requires me to be able to do so.

If you want to go and fact-check what I am about to present—which you are explicitly invited to do in case you want to publicly disagree with me—you can find the entirety of the ICD 11 right here.

No paywall, completely free access.

For those who have never heard of it, ICD stands for "International Classification of Diseases", which is by now on its 11th version and written and maintained by the WHO/World Health Organization. It contains all kinds of relevant information, like diagnostic criteria, about all diseases. As you can see, this includes mental disorders and illnesses:

Let's get into it!

First things first, there is no such thing as "depression", that term is a colloquial reduction of a number of different disorders categorized under Mood Disorders -> Depressive Disorders. Said category also contains any and all diagnoses related to Bipolar Disorders.

"Depression" is nondescript, loose, and can mean a long list of things, and social media has diluted and romanticized its meaning. For the purpose of this post, we will have a look at the criteria for three diagnoses:

Dysthymic disorder (shortened here to dysthymia)

Single episode depressive disorder, mild ( // to single episode)

Recurrent depressive disorder, current episode mild ( // recurrent)

I assume people mean a crude mix of these when they say "depression". Both recurrent and single episode can be diagnosed with dysthymia, but they cannot be diagnosed with each other. Recurrent automatically excludes single episode as a diagnosis, which I think is obvious if you think about it.

Before we look at the symptoms themselves, here is something very important to keep in mind about diagnoses: There are two requirements that pretty much every listed disorder and illness in the ICD has.

The first is that the symptoms are not related to something else—whether that's another mental disorder, a physical illness, or simply a cultural influence. It needs to be clear that they are due to something outside of what is already known and not circumstantial.

The second one is that the present symptoms are causing significant distress and impair a person's functioning in at least two different areas of life.

Or, to put it bluntly, a disorder needs to be disordering or it isn't one.

Additionally, the severity of the displayed symptoms needs to be taken into account. If several of them are not causing any negative impact on someone's life, they are not symptoms and cannot be counted.

Now, I will very much reduce the information the ICD provides us with or we will be here forever, but it is all correct and not partial in its meaning. To keep everything neat and tidy, I created a nice, colour-coded table:

If you disagree with what I marked for Aziraphale, great, please provide me with textual evidence of where exactly he exhibits each criteria, that it is not related to periodical stress or something else, and cannot be attributed to exceptional circumstances (like the end of the world).

The ONLY symptom we ever see Aziraphale consistently show throughout all six thousand thousand years is the one marked in yellow: low self-worth or excessive or inappropriate guilt.

However, if you paid attention to what I explained above, you will notice why this is in no way indicative of a depressive disorder.

Not only is it one symptom out of several required ones, it can also be explained by something else, which is the emotional neglect and abuse heaven subjected and subjects every (former) angel to. The same can be said for any anxious symptoms he exhibits sometimes, emphasis on sometimes.

In conclusion, Aziraphale does not have depression, and I think making a case that he does will be almost entirely built on assumptions and subjective interpretations, not anything that is in any shape or form supported by text or subtext.

Does that mean all of his struggles are somehow invalid? No, of course not. They are simply not due to a disorder but something else, that's literally all this post proves. It makes no moral judgement.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Our Darkest Hour: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: Rolling blackouts cause a serial killer to rape and murder his victims. He taunts the police and even brings Derek into it. The public has dubbed him the Prince of Darkness. Meanwhile Frank is livid that you didn't stay in jail so if he can't get rid of you that way, the only way to do it is to kill you.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"And out of darkness came the hands that reach through nature, molding men." - Alfred Lord Tennyson

You sit at your desk looking at your phone with thought. The text from your dad was sent ten minutes ago but you're not sure why he's so pissed. All you did was ask him if he could come down to visit you this weekend. Ever since you've gotten out of prison, he's been pissed about anything and everything. You're not sure why. Is it the kids he's fostering? Are they not doing their chores? Is it his construction company? Is he not getting enough money from it? You tap the corner of the phone on your bottom lip in thought.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks,

"Yeah. My dad is just having one of his bad days, I guess. He's pissed about something and it looks like he's taking it out on me. All I did was ask if he wanted to come down this weekend to visit."

"Does he normally get like this?"

"Sometimes. Usually, I ignore him until he calms down. He'd buy me dinner and we'd talk it out or he'd get me a gift and he'd be fine the next day."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yeah, maybe."

Strauss comes out of Hotch's office, signaling to you that he's free for the briefing. You pass her by on the way to the briefing room.

"What did Strauss want?"

"She needs us in Los Angeles. There was a home invasion homicide last night. Officers found Gregory Everson, fifty-six, beaten, with a GSW to the head. His wife, Colleen, was equally beaten and raped repeatedly."

"She survived this?" you gasp.

That makes your heart heavy. You know for a fact that this woman doesn't want to be alive anymore. You didn't for a long time.

"He chose to keep her alive like an intentional witness. Everything but that points to an organized offender, an experienced one."

"Was she able to identify him?" Spencer asks.

"She said he was white with mean eyes and repulsive breath."

"Rotten inside and out. Did he rape her in front of the husband?"

"Yeah," JJ whispers.

"Oh, no," you sigh sadly. "Poor Colleen."

"I'm touched but one home invasion rarely warrants Strauss personally sending us out," Derek says.

"No, there's more. Ballistics match a double homicide in Downtown LA forty-eight miles away. Three days ago, two women were raped and killed there. Last night was in the suburbs. LAPD's afraid of another Night Stalker."

You don't waste any time getting to the plane. You need to be in LA before this guy strikes again.

"This guy's way too good at this to have just started. He pulled off hours of torture and a homicide without disturbing the neighbors. Not to mention, he robbed the house."

"That could be a habit."

"Do you think he started as a burglar?" JJ asks Hotch.

"If it was just about the killing, he wouldn't bother robbing them."

"How did he get in?"

"Mrs. Everson said there was a noise outside their door. They were outside of their room for a few minutes. When they came back, he was there. He distracted them so he could climb in through their bedroom window."

"I'll have Garcia, see if that MO was used in any other home invasions," Spencer says.

"Victimology is all over the map. He committed three murders and they were both men and women, old, young, black, white, and Hispanic. That's about as random as it gets."

"Randomness implies a lack of predictability. I think that's the point. All the varying people in his message. He wants them all to fear him."

"They will," JJ sighs as she looks at her phone. "The press got ahold of last night's home invasion."

"JJ and I will set up at the station. Dave, you, Y/N, and Reid go visit Mrs. Everson at the hospital. Morgan and Prentiss, the LAPD detectives are waiting for you at the Everson house."

You know why he chose you to go to the hospital to talk to Mrs. Everson. You're the only one in the group who knows what it's like to be raped and survive it. Detective Matt Spicer and Adam Kurzbard met Derek and Emily once they got to the house. While it may look random to most people, Matt has a different view of it. He and Adam are on the Robbery-Homicide task in the Newton division since the first two victims were right in the middle of it. The only things that brought them out to Los Angeles were the bullets and the assault.

No DNA was found at any of the scenes because the unsub cleans up and he cleans up well. The reason the Eversons weren't able to see the unsub when he came in was because the electricity was out. Not because he cut the power but because of the rolling blackouts in LA. The city has them scheduled to get through the heat wave without the whole city going dark. The more people use their air conditioning in the blackout, the more it'll cause the system to overload. These blackouts help prevent that.

You're not sure what Mrs. Everson is going to be able to tell you. You're going to try and make this as painless for her as possible. Her doctor escorts her to her room and you gasp when you see restraints on her wrists.

"Why is she restrained?"

"She tried to kill herself. Twice."

Your heart breaks.

"Maybe you two should wait out here. Let me talk to her." Rossi and Spencer wait outside knowing you've got this handled. You walk inside and slowly approach her bed. "Emma? Mrs. Everson? My name is Y/N and I'm with the FBI." She moans in agony and looks away from you. Your heart bleeds for this woman. "I know you talked to the detectives, but do you mind answering some questions for me?"

She turns her head to you with tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't he kill me?"

You try your hardest not to cry but two tears slip past your eyes. You look down and touch the sidebar on her bed.

"I ask myself that same question every day."

"Were you...?"

"When I was ten." She sobs not only for herself but for you. "I want you to know something, Emma. The reason these men do things like this is because they're cowards who crave power. They leave us behind to watch us tear ourselves from the inside. I know it's hard, believe me, I know, but it won't be like this forever."

"When Greg looked at me... the way he always did. I... We didn't need words. We... He just... looked at me, and we would know." She starts crying. "I tried to be strong, but I... I... shut my eyes... when the gun went off, and... That's the last thing Greg saw. Now every time I shut my eyes... I see him. How long will that last?"

You can't tell her that you still see your rapist's face whenever you close your eyes. Most nights, you're able to push him so far back into your mind that he disappears but you know he's always there haunting you. You want to tell her it's going to be okay but you can't lie to her. That's all everyone is going to do to her. They want to make her feel better but you want her to know what the reality is going to be like.

"I don't think you'll ever forget what he looks like. I don't. That doesn't mean you will hurt every time you see his face. There will come a day when you picture his face and you won't be scared anymore. You'll see his face and feel empowered because you're better than him and he's still the coward he was when it happened. I know it doesn't seem like it now but you will survive this. Survive it for Greg."

She closes her eyes and cries, and you decide that's all you can take from her. You wipe your tears away and rejoin Rossi and Spencer in the hallway who heard your every word. You don't say a word and they don't ask. When you get back to the station, Rossi steps into an office and talks with Derek and Hotch.

"Hey, wait a second," Spencer says before you can go into the conference room where everyone else is. "Do you really see his face?"

"Every day. I'll never be able to erase the look of him with or without my abilities. I believe one day I will come face to face with this man, and I'm going to prove to him that I won, not him. I'm stronger than him and he's still a coward."

"I know you will. I'll be right here with you every step of the way."

You reach up and touch Spencer's cheek gently.

"I know you will."

"Hey, where's Rossi?" JJ asks, popping her head out of the conference room.

"With Derek and Hotch." On the bulletin board are all types of bullets that Matt put on there to compare them all to the ones found at the crime scene. "Wow. This is incredibly detailed."

"Yeah. Matt and his partner are the go-to guys for Robbery-Homicide. The Central Bureau in the Newton division is the busiest in LA." Spencer's phone rings and he answers Penelope's call. "Hey, Garcia, I have JJ and Y/N here."

"Praise the Gods. Los Angeles has a weirdly low rate of home invasion burglaries. I snagged a case in Westchester where a guy violently knocked down the front door, kicked the dog, and took off with the TV."

"Not the dog," you gasp.

"Breaking down the front door sends a message. He's trying to intimidate the victims."

"Yeah, and as horrible as this dog-kicking burglar sounds, I think the guy we're looking for is even more horrible."

"Garcia, this unsub's had practice and a lot of it. Maybe not in LA but he's definitely done this before."

"You're telling me. This is not his first crime party. I seriously can't find a single case in LA that equals this level of emotional destruction."

"We need to expand the search to all of Southern California. He can be in other cities with a quick ride on the freeways."

"Will do," she says and hangs up.

"We're going live on the 11:00 news. Do you think he'll be watching?"

"No, it's already late. He's probably hunting."

"Do you ever look at why this victim, why this day, and why this crime?"

You turn to see Matt and Emily walk into the conference room.

"Always."

"Do you ever think they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, I don't believe in coincidences."

"How come?" you ask.

"Don't get me wrong. It's not like I talk to the universe or anything. I've just always believed that things happen for a reason. It's hard to find the reason for this, though. Utterly meaningless crimes, no obvious motivation. Pure evil."

"Evil can't be scientifically defined. It's an illusory moral concept that doesn't exist in nature. Its origins and connotations have been inextricably linked to religion and mythology. This offender has shown no signs of any belief." Matt looks at Spencer weirdly. "I'm Spencer Reid."

"Matt Spicer."

"I'm Jennifer Jareau and that's Y/N. The media's been asking for you."

"Yeah, well, nobody else around here wants to talk to them. I figure it hasn't hurt me yet."

"They'd like an interview for the 11:00 news. Can we go over a few points?"

"Absolutely."

"Great."

Derek, Rossi, Adam, and Hotch step into the room as Matt and JJ step out.

"Are these the first two victims earlier this week?" Derek asks, pointing to the photos of the two women.

"Yeah. We discovered them Downtown in the morning but they were killed around two."

In the pictures Derek grabs, the alarm clocks read out 12:00.

"Not at noon?"

"No, I dragged Spicer over there around six."

"Both these clocks are stopped at 12:00. Was there a blackout?"

"No, they started that last night."

"The unsub cut their power but he let the blackout do it for him last night," you say. "Where's the next rolling blackout?"

"In about thirty minutes."

You're not prepared to prevent anything from happening so you know there will be a victim dead in her home when you wake up. Sure enough, there is. 

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 8

Sadara hadn't unwrapped the package left on their doorstep right away, mainly because she and Jiub had only seen it when they left for work in the afternoon. It seemed to be some sort of edible arrangement designed to looked like flowers and hearts, judging from the card that came with it.

"Who sent this thing?" Jiub asked, once they'd reached the Waffle House. He glanced at the flowery handwriting on the card and laughed. "Like I even had to ask. You can't get rid of this guy, can you?"

"I wish he'd just leave me alone," Sadara groaned. "A hand, now a fruit basket--I never asked for his attention, so why does he keep doing this stuff?"

Maybe he just wants to see if you're...open to anything?

She ignored the voice. A few ordinators and Temple pilgrims came in then, forcing her to put the basket in the fridge, and it wasn't for another few hours that she had the chance to look under the thing's wrapper.

She tugged off the plastic and looked over the assortment of fruits. Tropical, fresh...expensive.

Wow.

"What is that?" Nibani asked. She'd just come out from the back and was looking over the schedule, intent on her work, but sight of the fruit basket had distracted her. "We don't offer those...do we?"

"Oh no, this is a gift from Sadara's secret admirer." Jiub laughed, "Dear old Dagoth seems to have taken a shine to her...has been sending her gifts."

"Yeah, the first one was an ordinator's hand...and now this. This is actually normal though, thank the Divine."

It was already there, and being broke more often than not meant she didn't often get a chance to indulge in fresh fruits that weren't native to Morrowind. And that in itself was a rather short list.

"Normal, my--don't touch it. Don't touch ANY of it, throw it in the dumpster. Who KNOWS what he's done to it?"

"You can't sense any curses on it, can you?" Sadara asked.

"I can't, I already checked," Jiub piped up.

Try the--

She reached for one of the hearts first, and took a tentative sniff before taking a bite. For a moment she couldn't quite identify the taste. But after a moment's pause, and a tingling numbness at her lips as she swallowed the bite, she stiffened. "Jiub, was there an ingredient list on this thing? Try one of the hearts and tell me what it tastes like."

Jiub, who wouldn't argue with free food as long as it wasn't at the bottom of a dumpster or halfway down a rat's throat, did exactly as he was told and slipped one of the heart-shaped fruits into his mouth.

"Shit...it's mango."

Why does that matter? Isn't it good?

Sadara had no time to argue with Nerevar; she couldn't think of anything except the itchiness in her throat, the numbness in her mouth, and the sudden rapid pace of her heart. She stumbled back, trying to fumble for one of the healing potions kept in the fridge with the eggs, but found her hands were shaking too badly to do it.

Nibani bustled forward and opened the fridge herself, while Nerevar spoke up in a hurry.

It never did that when I ate it...well not that badly...

Sadara tried to take the potion Nibani held up, but wobbled and then stumbled as she reached for it. Behind her, Jiub guided her to a seat and sat her back.

"Open your fucking mouth before your throat swells up and you can't swallow at all!"

Still shaking, and scratching at the hives welling up all over her jaw, Sadara obeyed, and hastily gulped down the healing potion Jiub poured into her mouth.

The itchiness was the first thing to stop, then the numbness, and the pain from scratching too hard at the hives.

"Gods be damned, that was close. Another five minutes and you'd have been a goner," he said. "Do you need another one?"

She took another one, just in case, and tried to relax as the swelling of her throat receded. She was shaking all over. How could Dagoth Ur have known she was allergic?

I am too! But...but it's my favorite fruit and I never reacted like this! Oh, sure, my mouth tingled...and my lips might go a bit numb, and I'd sometimes get a rash...

You IDIOT, you realize that the next stage after that is your throat swelling up, right?!

It never did that!, Nerevar protested, I'd just take a healing potion...relax for the day, you know. It was great if I needed to blame someone for poisoning me! And Voryn knows--

IF HE KNOWS THEN HE TRIED TO POISON ME! US!

Voryn would NEVER! He likes us! BOTH OF US!

Your boyfriend is psycho, and the sooner you realize he's not our friend the better!

Sadara kept the debate up to distract herself until her heart rate began to slow back to normal. How, she wondered, could she have not seen through that polite facade of Dagoth Ur's? Maybe he wanted her dead so he could get Nerevar revived somehow...it was hard to say. Nibani had been right. Nibani was nearly always right.

She ignored Nerevar's protests to the contrary, his effusions about whether she really thought of Voryn wanting him as boyfriend after all this time, and when a customer walked in, went right back to work.

I can't afford to take the rest of the day off anyway, she thought, and when Nerevar gently suggested seeing a healer, she replied, I can't afford that either.

-------------------------

Sadara was careful around the next ash ghouls she served, but did let out that she hoped she hadn't offended him or done some to irk him. They'd seemed confused, and she'd related the thought of her allergy being known.

"Surely he meant for no such thing to happen!" one of the ash ghouls said, "Our Lord is quite fond of you, in his way."

"Mango was always a great favorite of Nerevar's," the other added. "From what we've heard, anyway."

"Regardless...I just want you to relay the message that I meant no offense, whatever caused this...your...lord may have forgotten that Nerevar was allergic to the fruit, even."

She ignored Nerevar in the back of her mind insisting that Voryn would never do such a thing, took payment from the ash ghouls, and politely bid them goodbye.

There had been nothing in the couple of days since the mango incident, and she was finally feeling somewhat normal again. There was still the ongoing thought that perhaps it wasn't too late to involve herself with the whole Nerevarine prophecy, and put all this uncertainty to an end - but then, she thought, that would bring a whole other world of shit she didn't need.

Which was exactly what she thought of when she lifted her head to see who had walked in.

Of course, she thought, of course. Everything was TOO normal. Everything was TOO QUIET!

Nothing had been quiet since she took the silt strider to the Ghostgate, had crossed into the Red Mountain region, had picked up that stupid fucking moon-and-star ring!

"Lady Almalexia," Sadara gave a slight bow, "It is a pleasure. If--if we had known you would be here, we would have...prepared better for you."

She hadn't read much about the tall redheaded lady that wasn't about mercy or her desire to punish the unfaithful, but Sadara could conjecture easily enough what sort of care to use when speaking to her.

"Not that there is much else you could have done, but I appreciate the sentiment." The smile that graced Almalexia's face was warm, almost inviting.

Sadara--Sadara, be careful.

She had heard Nerevar in many moods. Fear was not one of them, but he was afraid now.

I am being careful. Calm your tits.

"I have heard you called the Nerevarine," Almalexia said an easy yet authoritative tone, "Is it true?"

"I don't know about that. I'm...not from Morrowind, I don't usually pay attention to prophecies or...things like that. Especially ones that could be hazardous to my health. Ah - will you be wanting anything?"

Almalexia took a seat, and gave a broad smile. "An orange juice to start?"

It was quickly provided, and after a few sips she looked back up.

"I hear," she said, "That the Sharmat made an attempt on your life - with fruit of all things."

"Oh, you heard...that." Sadara looked away. "Mangoes. I'm...terribly allergic to them. He sent a fruit basket...and at first I thought perhaps he was just giving a normal gift..."

"The Sharmat's gifts are always poison. That is the first thing you should remember...he knew, he has always known, that Nerevar had an allergy to those fruits. And yet, what does he do? He gives them when he knows they will cause harm."

"It was just a change from how polite he was before. Nice, almost...but I've been told that's his way."

"By that ashlander manager of yours? That makes sense...regardless of the differences in what they believe versus the Temple truth, we both agree that Dagoth Ur is a threat."

Almalexia ordered a few waffles, and kept talking in between bites once she had them.

(Jiub was in the back, carefully and quietly minding his own business)

"Has he threatened you before?"

"Well, no..." Sadara shrugged, "Showed up here a few times. Liked a few of my posts online...but threatened?"

She thought of the hand, but if Nerevar was right that hadn't really been a threat. But if she was right about the mango then surely she'd be right about the hand too?

"His followers were all interested in the plant, though, but he seemed to want to let me have it."

"Oh, that old thing." Almalexia cast a glance at the bleeding heart plant, "Such a surprise it's still alive. I used to tell Nerevar he ought to give up on it, he'd just kill it like he did every other plant he had."

"...but he didn't listen, and it just grew for him. It was the same way for me."

It was nice, really, to make something grow after so long of not being able to. She could definitely understand Nerevar's previous tending to it now. It made her feel like she'd accomplished something, no matter how small a thing it was.

"So you remember that?"

"Well...well, uh...yes. And no." Sadara shrugged nervously. "I don't believe in this Nerevarine business, my lady. I'd rather not be on the wrong end of the Temple for something I don't even believe in."

"But surely you believe in the Temple? In me?"

"Well--" Sadara stumbled over her words, "--the ordinators don't seem to think so. I've had a few attack me."

"Really, now. What for?"

She wasn't sure what Almalexia's goal was here, and it was unnerving. Maybe the woman was just trying to be nice...and manipulative, but given how Vivec had been maybe this was just par for the course? The Tribunal would naturally want to interfere, right?

"Because I'm polite to the followers of the Sixth House, and some of them take issue with that."

"Well--really! They're not worth being polite to."

"Their money spends as well as anyone else's," Sadara shrugged, "And when you don't make much you don't get to indulge in moral standards to that degree."

'Better hungry and faithful than replete and faithless' she'd heard some Temple faithful say, almost like a hymn. But she didn't subscribe to that. She'd been hungry far too often in her life to want to tie it to something as abstract as faith. There was nothing religious about hunger.

"I had heard," Almalexia's tone sharpened just slightly, "That you have fought a few of them."

"Only if they start it. I'm not going to stand here and not defend myself, regardless of who started it."

Sadara--

"But surely you understand why they might be upset over the Sixth House monsters being treated with the same politeness as they? The ones actually upholding the law?"

"The law doesn't say I have to turn them out, and given this place is behind the Ghostfence it's a good idea to at least be cordial. If I spent my time turning away every customer with corprus...well, I have it myself, so it'd be a bit hypocritical, wouldn't it?"

"You do?" Almalexia looked up from her empty plate, "You certainly don't look it. But--no, I must hear about these fights with my ordinators. One has had to leave my service, you understand, and I want to know WHY."

Fuck, this is about the hand, isn't it?

"I didn't do anything but fight a few of them outside, and I didn't do anything that required a healer, at least that I know of."

"Then explain the hand." Almalexia's gaze shifted into a glare. "Explain why one of my truest defenders lost his hand."

"I didn't do it," Sadara protested, and took a step back when the goddess before her raised a hand to point at her, "I got it in the mail later. I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it, Dagoth Ur's been acting crazy and--I swear, I wanted nothing to do with this!"

"Really. You got a hand in the mail, and you didn't think to say anything? Perhaps he was right, perhaps you are more a Sixth House sympathizer than you outwardly appear to be."

"I'm not, I swear. And if you want to talk about the tattoo, I only did that because Vivec bribed me!"

"Vivec! That fool has no idea what he's doing. Look at me--" She glanced at the nametag, and then back up, "--Sadara. Look. At. Me. I am the only one you should worry about listening to. If you would only LISTEN, you would never have to worry about those sleepers again, nor that foul demon under the mountain."

"The sleepers aren't the problem--"

She yelped slightly as Almalexia reached suddenly up to yank her down by the collar of her shirt.

"They are ALWAYS going to be a problem. Get in with them and you get in with Dagoth Ur, and I will NOT LET my husband's incarnate be ANYWHERE NEAR that--"

Sadara tried to pull back, to no avail.

"I'm not Nerevar!" she burst out, "You've got the wrong woman!"

"Really? Then what about the ring? Is he in there? Hmm? Telling you lies, maybe?"

Get the hell away from this crazy bitch before she punts you into another life! Nerevar was practically shrieking in Sadara's head, utterly terrified by the wild anger in Almalexia's eyes.

"He's--"

"What is he saying?!"

"He's afraid of you!" Sadara burst out, not knowing what else to say.

Almalexia's voice dropped, to a tone that had Sadara shaking in her shoes. "He should be. Neht, dear, you really should listen when your wife is speaking to you."

Never before had Sadara understood "my soul left my body" as an expression, but she certainly did at that moment. Her heart racing, painful adrenaline coursing through her veins--

--and then, suddenly, there was the sound of a shattering bottle and the grip on her shirt fell away, along with Almalexia herself who slumped back.

On the other side of the woman was Jiub, with a now broken bottle in his hands.

Both of them looked down at Almalexia's still body, and then back up at each other.

Jiub half-kicked the woman's leg. There was no response.

"FUCK!" he swore, "NOT AGAIN!"

[commanderquinn]

a list of canon ways in which lillian hart is The Fucking Worst that cora coe deserves financial and emotional compensation for:

-the basis for the big divorce counseling mission is that cora's worried for her mother's safety. that means, before going on a deep cover operation with smugglers known to kill rangers, marines, or anyone else caught trying to interfere with their business, lillian didnt leave her daughter a heads up much less a lead. once the fuck again, this woman decided that her career was more important than her daughter's mental and emotional health. once the fuck again, this woman decided she could just disappear from cora's life and then come back out of the blue without consequence

-when you go to lillian's office to look for her at cora's request, the guy working the desk knows SAM well enough to know his name and give him shit like they've got a personal history, but he??? isnt sure about????? cora's name???? word for word, he looks at her and says "it's cora, right?" you're telling me that this woman doesn't talk about her kid enough for her fellow INVESTIAGATIVE rangers to be sure about her name??? are you SHITTING ME??????? get the fuck out of here. you cant push "ranger family values" and the close ties they have in one breath then claim she likes to keep a professional distance at work in the other. you wanna have the conversation about what fresh hell it is being a working mother in a position of power, lets go, ill have that conversation all day long. but lillian hart is not a fucking example of a working mother and im gonna be pretty fucking insulted for working mothers everywhere if i catch wind of ppl trying to pull that kind of defense card. the woman's an awful parent and should be held the fuck accountable for it. you wanna know how i know????

she doesn't say cora's name enough for the ranger watching the door to be confident in it, but he remembers alllll the stories of the captain her ex is cozying up to. and lillian is the one to confirm during the quest that she has been getting the stories from cora, so there's some clear "oh she already likes the stranger more than me." i know im reading into it because its fiction and none of these people are real, but ive also, y'know been in cora's shoes, so i can tell you from real life experience that shit does exist. idk if that was the writers INTENT, but it sure does a great job at reflecting a very sad reality

-sam points out its dumb that lillian wants to speed the ship, with her daughter on it, directly at the sydicate. idk abt y'all, but my ship was pretty dinky at that point bc i was focused on outposts, and we got ambushed by like 6 ship waves once we landed for that fight. again, i get it. game mechanics get a higher priority than realism. but this whole "we have to finish this because theres a chance you were spotted trying to rescue me" shit is so. nauseating. theres no demand to drop off cora somewhere safe, theres no "lets call in the cavalry." its this fucking egomaniac looking you dead in the eye and being like "i know i just traumatized the shit out of my kid but i need you to drive us into an ambush while she's still on board. hope you're a good shot because sam and i cant kill them ourselves." and so what that we did that????? YOURE TELLING ME IT WAS JUST THOSE SHIPS???? the rest of the organization is just going to LET IT GO???? like no fucking wonder sam sees himself as the better option even through all his fucking doubt. at least he knows when to turn the fuck around because shit is above his paygrade

-she has custody rights. she is a decorated and respected ranger. sam being a smuggler wasnt public knowledge, but point out one person in akila who wouldnt believe her in a heartbeat over it. everyone in town gives him nothing but shit, and they all side with his dad who was definitely no picnic to live with. im guessing big emotional detachment there, lotta interrogation and persecution rather than teaching and understanding. HELL, sam would probably own up to his past if lillian outed him for it, he's that type of idiot. at literally any point she could put in the effort to get legal council involved. if she's SOOOO by the law, whats the hold up there???? i agree the kid shouldnt be on my ship while im in the middle of a space fight. ive talked with sam about it, and im not even the kids parent (as of the personal quest). what the fuck are you doing about it lillian????????? oh thats right. we cant get lillian on the phone. whomp whomp.

-she made cora cry. hyper independent, "big girls dont cry" cora coe. multiple times. worse, she made cora cry because she made cora feel like she wasn't as important as lillian's career. i dont give a fuck what criminals are doing. i do not give a fuck. i give a fuck that that little pixel child got her heart broken and there isnt a dialogue for me to call out her mother for being a huge fucking cunt to her own daughter but theres a thousand and one options for me to tell sam he's parenting wrong. he is, and i have no problem using them when they're appropriate, but where the fuck are they for lillian??? why am i not allowed to tear this woman a new asshole at any point, but there's like 20+ extra dialogue options added to every single npc you have a persuade option with???? todd my head hurts and its your fault

-"im sure sam's told you all about me. go on. ask whatever you want." yet there is no option to ask what the fuck her problem is. so, clearly, i cannot, in fact, ask whatever i want.

-"but the looks i got from my fellow rangers reading alexander dumas... we do strange things for kids." yeah hart??? thats your standard????? THATS your idea of going out of your way for your kid??? literally how did sam fall for this woman oh my god i cant even listen to her speak without wanting to use the power of bitchhood i inherited from a long line of angry irish women to ridicule her to tears. maybe then she'll fucking understand how small she makes her fucking kid feel every time she turns a moment of bonding into a little "woe is me and my comfort zone oh how unfortunate i am to have a brilliant daughter that wants to connect with me through her greatest passion"

-she openly admits that she dumped the cargo sam was smuggling not because she felt any connection or sympathy or just didnt want to destroy someones chance at life in a capitalist society, but because he was a good pilot and she didnt want that talent to "go to waste" so she could recruit him. thats not really a thing against cora i just really fucking hate that and the picture it paints of her priorities as a human being

-"if we're going to be really honest here... back when we were a team... cora would follow you everywhere, like a little adoring dog. i... just fell out of it. long before we separated."

i literally. do not have words for how fucking disgusted i am by that line of dialogue. oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god. i. i TRULY would not even know where to start. the dog comparison makes me violently angry and if you'd given me a punch interrupt at that moment, i would have broken my keyboard punching the accept option

-go replay or watch a recording of that divorce counseling mission one more time. while you're doing it, imagine the roles reversed. imagine youre romancing a character thats a mother bringing cora into space, and the ranger standing in your cockpit asking to finish the mission is her father who took off to live at work once it was clear his little girl liked mommy better. imagine THAT while you listen to the (imo) out of fucking pocket dialogue where sam constantly praises lillian for being "a good ranger/woman." then you come back and tell me how comfortable you are with the concept of lillian hart as a character.

[laugtherhyena]

What are some of you're favourite Sprite edits you've made Whether that be this year, or any over years you've been in the sprite editing business

Ok so I've made A LOT of edits over the years so it took a lil while for me to sort out the favorites and why exactly, but here it is so get ready for some rambling!

First things first i gotta say this isn't really organized from the one i like the most and least, i like all of these edits a whole lot and i really don't think i can pick one or two to be the favorite.

So let's start from the start (sorta) i have to give a spot to my Fantasy Au twins edits, it would be illegal to not put them in this list

The Sdra2 Fantasy Au was one of the first things i made in the fandom and i was attached to it for a long while. These are actually the 4th version of their sprites, out of all them only the 3rd had a full gallery of sprites and trust me they were complex since on top of posting i even made different tails and ears to move around depending on the emotion of the sprite.

Even tho i never finished this 4th take on them I'm pretty happy with the redesign (since as i grew older i realized some of my choices were questionable and i really should have thought more before just going with it, just keep in mind i was a dumb 14-15 year old then) and the improvement on graphical quality because not only does it show how much i improved in editing but also because editing the fantasy twins were my first really hard edits and i was always happy with how well i was able to translate their weird little designs to sprite form.

The Fantasy Au as a whole had a lot of edits with a bunch of complicated details that i never finshed and although I don't like them as much as the twins i do feel like they deserve to be shown somehere so have this pile of lizards, undead firemen and two human girls.

(fun fact; i didn't know how to add textures back then so see those scales on the dragons? I made them all by hand-)

Next one on the list has gotta be the Nijiue siblings! Crazy to think these guys are only 2-3 years old like it feels like they've been with me for ao much longer!

These guys where my first try at making Oc sprites since before all i did were Au stuff and they're very very dear to me, as you can probably guess by the amount of spites an different iterations i made of them over the years. While there are a few things i could improve upon them if i were to remake their edits nowadays, i never felt a strong need to do so because as it is their sprites hold up well imo so remaking them feels unnecessary to me.

And you know I can't really talk about them without mentioning the Voidswap Au and a couple tumblr blogs owned by friends of mine. After Voidswap's cancelation i didn't thought I'd ever use these guys for anything so to think that nowadays there's so many people who not only know these characters but care for them a lot out of seeing them in Asoot and Dfta more recently really fills me with joy! I'm glad y'all enjoy my silly siblings so much and obviously huge thanks to the mods for wanting to include them in their stories, I really couldn't be more thankful for that!

And since we're talking about the fam, let me add Mako to the list as an honorable mention of sorts, a i'm still very happy with how i made her adult designs especially the whole closed trenchcoat and open trenchcoat thing she has going on and how i was able to cary out the heart motif on both of them :]

This next one is one of my newer edits + a pretty simple one which is this Irl Sora design i made for mod Bubbles around early this year.

Honestly, I don't even know how to explain why i like it this much? Maybe it's because Sora is one of the characters from Sdra2 i still decently enjoy or because i had a fun time coming up with her design. I had in mind that i wanted something plain and simple just like her in-game one, just adapted to a more adult look. Rolled up sleeves to resemble her uniform's ones and a scarf to bring back the spark of red her old design had, i also gave her the short hair that post game Yuki has because it's still her body at the end of the day + i think butch-ish Sora looks pretty good :]

From simplicity we jump back into weirdness with these last ones because obviously i wouldn't leave my girls out of this list, what did you guys even expect?

Favoritism? Absolutely, by now I'm sure all of you know how much i like these two but focusing on the graphical side for once, I'm super proud of their designs, i think they fit with the weirdness of some of Linuj's design choices pretty well which in turn makes them look kinda legit? In my head at least. I also had a lot of fun working on their sprites, especially Beni's since it had been a long while since i last tried to really exaggerate expressions on sprites of my characters so that was really fun! + I'm super proud of the baby sprites i made of them too, almost as much as i like their standard/adult designs really.

[somberjoon]

METANOIA [7]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 15.2k sorry,,,

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , detailed description of male and female anatomy- not in an awkward setting but professional , new meetings and lots of anxious feelings at the end of the ch. please lmk if i missed anything.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8

Namjoon

After an evening of working out time for Y/N to visit Taehyung and his studio, Namjoon looks forward to his Friday meet up with her. It’s not that the members were feeling a particular way, especially after the overheard discussion between Seokjin and himself. Seokjin was the only one that had any qualms, and it was only to prepare for an extra space at dinner if she happens to still be there at dinner. Namjoon is only excited to work out the plans, especially in times when Taehyung is so excited. 

The cheetah decided to stay home today to work in his studio, getting it ready for her, hopefully soon, visit this weekend. All the guys were excited, especially the big cats. Namjoon was pleased to see that, if anyone had any worries such as Seokjin’s, they were able to put them aside to welcome Y/N into a nice environment. They’ve known each other long enough that they would definitely voice their discomfort, but if anything, they were all quite excited about the idea- even when Namjoon specified his uncertainty in her wanting to meet so many hybrids and men at once. 

The usual preparations at the organization are quick, and before he knows it, Namjoon is pulling into the Caddel driveway. 

The door is opening before he can even knock, Y/N entering his space and giving him an over the shoulder hug. It seems the hug was only for her own motives, before she pulls aways, she’s whispering into his ear. 

“Let’s leave.” 

Y/N immediately tries to turn and push Namjoon out of the house entrance. 

“Oh, Namjoon! Hold on, I have a question for you.” 

Y/N deflates next to him as Maria rushes up to them in her apron with a fabric bag of packed goodies. 

“How are you, Maria?” He gives her his usual smile. 

“I’m great, I just wanted to give you guys these,” she hands him the fabric bag. “And I was gonna see if there was a chance you were free tomorrow morning?” 

“Depends, what’s tomorrow morning?” He asks genuinely. 

“Y/N has a chance to attend a class she’d like to go to, but I’m out of town on the weekends and Richard will be working at that time. I’d let her walk as she wishes, but it’s up at the hospital. I was going to see if you or someone you know of has the time to take her and pick her up?” 

He looks down to Y/N, her demeanor shy and guarded. She’s obviously not comfortable with the suggestion- he’d guess it’s about taking up his time on a weekend when she’s not on his list of “duties” as she’d say. He really doesn’t mind, especially if this is something she wants to do. 

“I can definitely fit it in.”

-

The silence in the car as Namjoon tries to figure out where Y/N wants to go with no direction or audible gesture is quite daunting. Did he say the wrong thing when Maria asked? Is she just not in a good mood today? Does she not actually want to go to the class?

“So…I didn’t know you were starting any classes. That should be fun.” He tries to get her to open up some. 

“Yeah.” she vaguely gives him. 

“What kind of class is it?” He tries to press more.

“Just- like, mental health stuff. It’s just one class, a free one I was recommended.” 

“Oh, that sounds like it’ll be good, maybe I should sit in-”

“No.” Y/N turns to give him a baffled expression, her tone matching perfectly. 

“Oh, well if you don’t want me there that’s fine. Is that why you don’t want me to take you?” 

“Why wouldn’t I want you to take me?” 

“Well that’s what it seems like. I won’t be offended, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable going. I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to.”

Y/N lets a sigh out, her posture becoming more relaxed.

“It’s just…embarrassing- having to have someone watch over me and take me places. Especially someone that’s not responsible for me.” 

Namjoon continues to drive with no specific destination, content on having her so open with him about her feelings after they knocked down a barrier between them. 

“Just because I’m not a guardian of yours doesn’t mean I don’t want to care for you. The two don’t always go together. I care for you as a friend, thus I don’t mind doing things for you. We talked about this.” 

“I know. This just feels different- it’s during the time you aren’t going out of your way to see me. It’s taking up the time you spend with your pack.I know that’s important, no matter what you say.” 

“It’s all important to me, being your friend without the organization between us and my pack.” 

“It just seems- invasive.” 

“The only way it would be is if she assumed I could take you, or if she just wanted me to because she didn't want to. She’d be putting her responsibilities on me- but she asked and she makes good food. I don’t mind.” 

Y/N seems to relax all the more with Namjoon’s words, uncrossing her arms to lay them in her lap and let her tail unwind from her waist to sit between her hands. Her fingers brush along her tail, holding it with care and light touches. Despite her demeanor, her next words are unexpected. 

“Wow, my company isn’t good enough of a reason?” 

Namjoon’s shocked expression goes unnoticed, his eyes leave the road in one second increments to decipher exactly what her goal is. A small smirk gives way without her wanting- luckily he spots it- but she speaks up before he can. 

“I’m thankful.”

“I know-”

“I want to say it all the time, though. I want to tell you how I feel all the time, I want to let you know how much you mean to me.” 

Namjoon almost accelerates in a dangerous manner when he hears what feels like the most meaningful confession he’s gotten from her. He just about giggled when she wished he was there at the breakfast with Taehyung- this is proving to be the hardest week to keep his cool. Their relationship isn’t normal in his terms of previous relationships, but it’s also not an odd, sexual thing when he thinks of his fondness for her. It’s a yearning that’s slowly building- one that is starting to become more and more consuming. 

“As friends- as Kim Namjoon, the comforting companion-” Y/N gives a ‘pfft’ of laughter she tries to stifle. “I want to know how you feel all the time. Even if it seems unnecessary or odd. I’d like to know everything you want to give me, even if you’re embarrassed.” Y/N gives an abnormally loud sigh before responding. 

“I guess I should be honest with you then.” She gives a lengthy pause that worries Namjoon. 

“Should I be parked for this information?” 

“No…it’s just- it’s embarrassing.”

“In what way?” 

“A personal way.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, especially if it’s personal and sacred to you in some way.” 

“Ugh, I just don’t know how to say it. It’s about the class…” 

“Are you embarrassed about taking it? If anything I think it would be an amazing chance to learn more about-”

“It’s a sexual development class, Namjoon.” 

He doesn’t want to be stunned into silence. This is a very very normal thing to do. This is especially an important thing for her to learn about herself- a very crucial part about being a hybrid as well- since it’s so different from what Maria could tell her. And hybrids are quite open about these things, heats and rut depending on sex are taken into account by your employers. So, really, this is completely normal to talk about and have a mature conversation about. 

“God, you’re thinking too much about it, can you just say it?” Y/N cuts his thoughts off. 

“Well…I wasn’t expecting you to say that-”

“Oh, god.” Y/N groans, dropping her head into her hands to hide herself. 

“Only because you lied. It’s normal information to seek out and- honestly- hybrids are open about their heats and ruts, so I don’t mind you bringing it up. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about it at all.” 

“Wait. Heats and ruts? What are you talking about?” 

Namjoon definitely has to park now. He doesn’t speak until he’s turning into the first parking lot he sees, parking and unbuckling, and turning to Y/N to gauge how absolutely serious she is. 

“You’re serious? You’re not messing with me as payback for overthinking just a minute ago?” Y/N looks around in confusion because of his serious expression and questions.

“I’m serious- why? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, no no you didn’t, but? You’ve been going to the doctor right?”

“Yeah?” 

“Are they a hybrid?”

“No.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Yeah?” 

The ping-pong conversation ends with that last question. Namjoon has to stop and think about exactly how to say this. Y/N is truly someone that hasn’t even gotten basic education or a parental / guardian figure to teach her the basics of being a hybrid. He’ll go over the extreme basics and let the crucial class do the rest. 

“Female hybrids aren’t the same as female humans. Your body is literally part animal- and animals don’t have normal hormonal cycles like humans do. You aren’t going to have monthly periods like most humans with the same anatomy will, you’re going to have heats like female cheetahs. Male hybrids have ruts just as their male animal does. There’s more instances based on gender identity and sex but- that’s the basics.”

Y/N seems to be thinking about something specific. Namjoon lets her, knowing that somehow this is new information to her. 

“I’ll never have my period?” 

“Unless it’s some extremely rare case, but, because you literally are part cheetah, there’s really no reason for a human menstrual cycle to manifest.” 

“Why would my doctor not tell me this?” 

“That’s- really hard to say. It could be because they aren’t as well-educated on the difference between the anatomy. Sadly, it’s quite common for doctors to not be well-fit for any one person. I think finding a hybrid doctor would be your best bet to get the information you need.” 

Namjoon watches as Y/N deflates some because of the thoughts she has.  

“That sucks.” Is all she says after a couple minutes. 

“I’m sorry that you didn’t get this information from a professional that would be able to give you more answers.”

“No, it’s okay. I trust you. I mean- I trust the doctor either way just because she was nice and respectful each time. It’s just confusing and- I think it’s unfair that you had to tell me. I wish I just knew more. I feel dumb.”

“Y/N I respect you too much to just feel like I have to do things with and for you. I told you I do them because I want to. It’s always genuine.” 

“Thank you for telling me. I guess I’ll get more answers tomorrow, and hopefully I can find a new doctor soon. Anyways! I’m starving.” Her switch in demeanor worries him but she obviously wants the change in conversation. 

Namjoon knows this can be a lot, but Y/N seems to be in the process of trying to think about it and accept it with ease. He easily follows through with her wishes and starts the car to head to their usual park- but he’ll definitely check in on her later. Maybe after this class she’ll have more information and thus some type of closure with the unknown. 

-

Y/N

“You’re joking.” Y/N looks out at the front of the shops from the passenger car seat. 

“You’re the one that said you felt under-dressed.” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to- your eyes show it.”

 Namjoon picked her up with time to spare. Honestly, she was extremely thankful for it- the chances of being late are very low. But, her only issue upon his arrival to pick her up was their difference in clothes. Y/N is used to wearing her usually comfortable outfits- sweats and a tee with simple shoes and a plain gray sweater. Besides that one black outfit, Y/N is also used to Namjoon wearing a tee and jeans as well. But on his days off, it seems his style is much different. 

Namjoon’s baggy, black slacks that hang over mainly black shoes caught her attention first as he stood at the door. Then his matching black hoodie with lettering layered under a baggy leather jacket led her to his sunglass-pushed-back hair. He was truly dressed for something far more important than dropping her off at a class. 

Even as he led her to the car, Namjoon instead followed her to her side of the car and opened the door for her. Her confused looks and weirdly shy-demeanor around him was definitely new, but she couldn’t just bring attention to it. Even as she watched him from the passenger seat, she tried her best to be discreet in her staring. He was truly good-looking. Day by day, he seems to show her more and more- and the more personal it is, the more she finds she can’t stop looking at him. 

“My outfit isn’t bad.” She pouts, pulling her t-shirt out by the hem to look down at it. 

“I didn’t say it was bad. You just looked like a kicked puppy at the sight of mine ever since we left the house. We have an extra 45 minutes before check-in starts- we can just…try something if that’s what you wanna do. If I read it wrong you can punch me, make me beg on my knees for forgiveness, and we can leave for the class immediately.” 

His earnest expression mixes with her curiosity of going into a clothing shop. It’s almost irritating how right he is all the time. Why is he so honed in on her and how she reacts to everything? 

“I kind of hate how right you are all the time.” She murmurs, unbuckling and clawing at the door handle. She’s out of the car while Namjoon is scrambling to follow her. 

(She misses a crucial pout on his lips at her rush to get out, instead of waiting for him to open the door. To be fair, he’s never done it before and she’s pouting as well.)

As Namjoon rushes up to her, Y/N keeps her gaze on the shops, trying to figure out how different they all are. She hates that she has to search out Namjoon’s help so soon after showing her irritation. 

“Which one?” She asks and clarifies, “something cheap- something comfy.”

Instead of answering, he presses a warm hand into her back as he did so long ago. She forgot about the feeling, but somehow she now releases how much she missed it. She’d truly let him guide her anywhere with a warm hand on her back. 

She’s caught off guard by the sudden change in her feelings- turning to glare at him but instead being greeted by him opening the door to the shop for her. The ding rings loud above them, indicating a customer’s arrival. His warm hand directs her to go in front of him- a rush of warm air greeting her with a fresh scent. Her irritation dissipates with the sights before her. 

She was always too afraid to go into crowded areas. She learned quickly that people like her- hybrids, homeless- weren’t welcome around people that were well-off. Even those that had some money were well-off. Now, she can see what these places are. She can see racks of new, colorful clothes line along the store. All seem to be so new and soft. All seem to be too much money. 

“Welcome in! Let me know if you need help finding anything.” Y/N looks over at a woman with a bright voice. She gives her a pointed smile that doesn’t last long but lingers on Namjoon. She immediately becomes uncomfortable. The only thing keeping her from fleeing out of the store from that look alone is Namjoon’s comforting voice. 

“Hmm, how about jeans?” 

Despite her hatred for the fabric, Y/N looks down at the rack of jeans that Namjoon is swiping through. She chances the fabric, rubbing a few pairs between her thumb and index. No matter the amount of times she tries, she hates it. 

“Mmm, is there another type of pants they have?” 

Namjoon works hard to find something she likes despite her dislike for most fabrics. Honestly, she’s willing to try lots, but some of the fabric is just far too scratchy despite it being brand-new clothing. 

Because of the time limit, it’s not long before Y/N is in a dressing room on her own. She feels as though she needs to go quickly, but changing in such an unknown place feels weird. She pushes through to prove to herself that this is normal, this is something that she now has the privilege of doing. 

Namjoon helped her pick a pair of pants that were pretty similar to his baggy, soft slacks. The fabric cinches at her waist without being uncomfortable and flows out to give her a comfortable fit around the legs. She instantly likes them, feeling the fabric under her fingers as a smooth, soft texture. Her tail even perfectly fits into the little space made specifically for them to come out of- showcasing the soft fur with no forgiveness. The shirt is the tricky part. He had told her this type of shirt would look nice, but honestly, she can’t understand the want to wear a shirt that fits the exact shape of your body. Isn’t that the point of clothes?  To cover you.

The shirt fabric is, again, a nice feel under her hands- the only reason she takes it off the hanger and slips it on. Upon adjusting it and seeing herself, she can admit her wrongs. The shirt is plain just how she likes it, white with no showy frills or awkward pieces. It perfectly forms to her shoulders, chest, and stomach, sitting just above the pair of pants. She knows she can’t take long, but seeing herself in this feels- amazing. To put something on that feels good and looks good was something she didn’t know was possible. She becomes a little shy at the thought of Namjoon- or anyone, but especially him- seeing her in this. But, she has no time and maybe that’s for the best. She can’t overthink right now. 

Slipping on her shoes to complete the look, she moves the thick curtain to the side and steps out into the open. Namjoon isn’t far at all, looking at another rack, presumably to find something else if she doesn’t like this. He instantly finds her eyes, giving her a smile and meeting her where she is. She watches as he examines her with open gestures, nervous about what he thinks. His gaze shifts to one she hasn’t seen before, one that she sadly can’t place.

“It looks like it fits perfectly. Does it feel good?” His voice seems to get lower in the small space they take up. His hand comes up to the pocket of her slacks, fixing a mistake she couldn’t see. Then he reaches for her shoulder, fixing another thing she’s sure didn’t need it. 

“Yeah. It feels good.” She answers, a ringing in her ears causing her to focus on the way his features scrunch and release in his own thinking. “I’ll get this.” She says, hoping to put an end to whatever this is. That seems to do the trick, as Namjoon gives a tight-smiled nod and goes into the changing room to grab her clothes she forgot about. 

Luckily, she was able to just wear the clothes out of the shop after Namjoon helped her find the tags to cut off with scissors the cashier helped to provide. She didn’t pay attention to the price but quickly grabbed the receipt as Namjoon was cutting off the tag of her pants. She slips it into her pocket unnoticed as Namjoon slips the cashier the scissors back. The change in her demeanor was unnoticed by Y/N as Namjoon was so close to her so casually- she doesn’t care after this anyways. Namjoon’s here for Y/N, not the cashier.

With her gray sweater still keeping her with some semblance of her ‘normal’, Y/N enters the class on her own despite debating the whole ride over if she should invite Namjoon to actually sit in this class with her. It really took too much control to not ask- she’s getting far too comfortable with the man she met only a few weeks ago. To be fair, he asked her a few times if she was still alright to go on her own- probably from some horrified look on her face she still has no idea how to control. But, she declined again and again only to have Namjoon still make sure she knew that he’ll be a call away. 

Now, the line of hybrids she stands in seems to be an imaginary thing as she thinks about how odd she may look. She’ll never be a normal person in normal clothes- not when she knows she still sees someone homeless in disguise. The line moves and she blindly follows, getting to the front to be greeted by another two hybrids. She can’t focus on exactly what type they are while she’s staring at the paper below her. She has to write her name. Something she’s only done in grade school, and barely done since. 

“Hi! Just verifying you’re here for the hybrid version of the development class?” The young man at the table asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Perfect! We just need your name and date of birth for survey purposes.” 

Date of birth. An unexpected question in this circumstance. She freezes in thought. They estimated that her birth year is 1998, making her about 25 years old. She can just lie. She can do that- it should be easy. She writes her name with unpracticed, scratchy letters, hoping they aren’t judging her. Then she thinks only a moment before writing 1/1/1998. The easiest date she could think of as fast as possible. 

If the two that greeted her are weirded out by it, they don’t show it, instead they hand her a tag with her first name on it, written with such perfect writing she awes at it, and points to the class-type room that other hybrids are sitting in. 

She peeks around the doorframe to see if the packed room allows for a spot where she doesn’t have to be directly next to someone. Instead, more hybrids line the back wall than they do up front. To be honest, there aren’t that many people here, it’s only because the room is so small. A spot catches her eye, sadly up front, but it’s an open spot next to a girl. A girl is better than a guy- even if she’s squished in. Silver lining. 

She squeezes through conversations until she’s just next to the girl. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” She can now see that she is about her age- a pretty girl with long, straight black hair that almost reaches her waist. Her skin isn’t tan like Y/N’s, but a naturally beautiful brown that compliments her features well. 

“No, not at all! Go ahead.” The girl gives her a smile that seems far too excited for the situation they’re in, moving slightly to give Y/N a little more space in the crowded room. 

“Thank you.” Y/N says as she tries her best to get comfortable. 

“You’re very pretty, I love your curls! I wish my hair was naturally curly, but I can’t get it to hold a curl to save my life.” The girl seems to talk away despite Y/N not giving her any response back. “Sorry, my name is Lena. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” Lena’s smile seems to brighten upon getting her answer. 

“Such a pretty name.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N slinks a little under the praise, hoping she doesn’t look as meek as she feels. “Yours is pretty as well. You’re pretty.” She responds with honesty, hoping it’s not weird to say it back. 

“Ah! Thank you! You’re so sweet. I was scared it was just gonna be a bunch of weird guys taking this class. But I’m glad it’s a nice mix and that I have you.” Lena looks around the class and at the clock on the wall, giving Y/N a chance to guess her animal. She doesn’t have enough time before Lena is looking back at her and examining her own features. 

“Oh my goddess, you’re a cheetah aren’t you?” She gestures to the tail wrapped around her waist and the ears sticking from her loose curls. Y/N gives her an awkward smile and a nod, hoping she won’t say something weird like Richard's friend did. 

“That is so cool!” She says with a hush that doesn’t make everyone look over at them, she’s thankful for that. “I’m just an ol’ regular black lab.” 

Y/N looks over her black, floppy ears, finding it obvious now that she knows it’s a dog that has those ears. She wonders if all dogs and wolves are this friendly. 

“Regular isn’t bad.” Y/N says the only thing she can think of with honesty.

“No, but how exciting that you can say you’re rare. Plus, it’s easy getting people’s attention- look.” 

Y/N looks around the room as Lena gestures for her to do, seeing not-so-discreet looks her way, some even full-on staring. 

“That’s not very comforting.” 

“They’re just curious. It’s really not common seeing, even meeting, a cheetah. I’m honored.” 

“You’re a lot nicer than they seem to be.” They’re stares are more like looks of greed and slimy feelings. While Lena feels like a friend she has known for some time. 

“I’m glad you think so. Not everyone likes someone so loud and talkative- it’s just my lab, it makes me love people and I become loyal far too fast.”

Before Y/N has the time to answer, a tall woman with too many bags enters the room with a loud greeting. 

“Hello, everyone! If there isn’t a seat for you, please just be mindful of walkways. We weren’t expecting this large of a class but one of my peers was free for the hour so we can split all of us into two rooms.” Everyone immediately quiets down, probably hoping to quickly get into a seat and get started. Before continuing, she sets her things down and takes a count of everyone faster than Y/N can process. 

“Perfect! Exactly 30. There are exactly 15 seats in here, so those standing please go to the room right across from here, a gentleman will be standing right outside.” 

With everyone settled and the doors shut, Y/N feels a weight off her chest now that the room isn’t so packed. 

“Alrightie, my name is Aspen and I’m a cape fox hybrid. My main job is a teaching assistant at the university but I’m a volunteer here at the hospital for various hybrid specific classes- mostly for experience- but I really love being here for those wanting to learn. Today’s class is especially important and more intimate so I won’t be asking for introductions as I usually do, but I will ask or read your name if any questions or add-ons come up. We have a range of ages, so I do ask that everyone be polite and to not blurt any comments or remarks. Any questions?” 

Everyone seems to look around at each other, but no one speaks up at the moment. 

“Perfect! Let’s get started.”

-

Y/N thought this class would be a lot more awkward, but because she’s sitting up front, she really is only focused on the different, detailed anatomy pictures in concentration. She didn’t realize how much she already knew, but also how much she didn’t know. 

“To put it simply, because of the nerve placement, stimulation will be pronounced here, at the head of the penis, and here, at the clitorus just above the urethra.” Aspen circles the specific parts of the diagram with her finger. “Okay, now that we know the basics, let’s look at hybrid specific anatomy.” Aspen takes down the diagram to flip the page and show a very similar diagram. 

“When we look at different male hybrids, we have to take into consideration their species. The largest difference will be the knotting aspect of intercourse for the wolf family- including dogs.” Y/N watches on in awe. “As for females, the main difference is sex-drive and how common heats are. Which leads me to one of the final points- ruts and heats.” Y/N sits up a little straighter, hoping to take as much in as possible. “Excuse me while I use the most conservative way to explain this- but please understand, no matter gender identity, your anatomy is all that matters in this situation.”

“Depending on species, animals and male hybrids will go into ruts- the timing and how often depends on each hybrid as well as the type of animal. During these ruts, males will want to breed with females, their primal and animalistic needs will want to expand their pack. Sex-drives will be heightened, animals that have knots will produce more semen, and overall the need to care and be with their pack is most important. For females, an equivalent would be a heat. Heats prepare the female’s body for pregnancy, and vice-versa, the female will have a need to be bred- thus, it’s much easier for females to become pregnant. If you’re unsure exactly when you and your species or breed has their rut or heat cycle, I would suggest getting blood work done at a hybrid-friendly facility. Any questions?” Without thinking of anyone around her, Y/N raises her hand. 

“Yes…Y/N?” 

“Yes, I was wondering how one knows when they’re going to start their heat or rut- like, are there more symptoms?” 

“Very good question! A good base list of symptoms before starting are increase in body heat, need for physical contact and scenting, the need to shift into your animal form, the need to obsessively care for others and keep them close, and food or drink related cravings. Those with a vagina will experience bleeding as well. Not as a human does, but just the first couple days of the hormonal cycle. Not all will always be present, and overtime you will learn how yours is specifically- but I just always suggest you be open about your worries or symptoms to your doctors or those you will be sharing your heat or rut with- this is a sensitive time for us hybrids, and it really is important to have someone we can trust to be with us and take care of us.” Aspen gives Y/N a firm nod and smile to make sure her question was answered. 

Y/N can’t help but think about how miserable this time would be- especially when she has no one to help her. Having all those random bodily changes that are incurable and having to be managed on her own…hell.

-

The class is over before she even realizes it’s been an hour. Everyone seems to have the same idea upon standing, stretching with different pitches of groans. 

“Well, that was fun.” Lena gives with a sarcastic undertone. 

“It was!” Y/N responds with all seriousness. She didn’t think to realize that learning would be something she found to be so fun, especially when nothing went wrong and she didn’t have anything to worry about. Lena gives her a warm smile before leading them to the exit behind others. 

“So, what brought you to this class?” Lena asks with curiosity quiet enough to keep the conversation between them. Y/N tries to think of a quick response, instead going for a half-truth. 

“I wasn’t given the opportunity to take one before. What about you?” 

“My professor recommended it to our class. I’m studying to become a therapist- this was just an opportunity to see how exactly a class like this would be taught and how I can specify my information to give to future patients. It was more of a study of the presentation elements. Does that make sense?” 

“I think so.” Y/N says, honestly a little confused but fascinated. The two share a few giggles at her response- finally getting out of the room. They seem to be going the same way to leave- walking side-by-side to the main hospital entrance hall. As she gets closer to the automatic sliding doors another person walks in, allowing a gust of cool air to meet them. A familiar scent hits her- the musky vanilla she can never get enough of. Upon exiting, she looks for the owner of the scent, finding Namjoon sitting at one of the benches outside of the hospital. 

“Thank you for keeping me company.” Lena suddenly says, turning to a distracted Y/N. “Ehh, this is kind of embarrassing but- it’s my first year at this school despite it being my third year in a uni- and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to keep in touch? I’m still adjusting to the city and would love some company once in a while.” Y/N’s attention is back on Lena- shocked that her impression was good enough for- a friend?

“Yes, of course! I-” She checks her pockets, looking for her phone in the usual spot. It’s not there. “Oh, I forgot my phone-” A hand she finds is connected to a smiling Namjoon holds out her missing phone. “Where?”

“You left it in your other clothes, you got a text so I found it and decided to just wait up here by the door in case you needed anything.” 

“Thank you so much.” With relief, she quickly swipes through to open her contacts and hand the phone to Lena. She’s quick to putting in her number, handing the phone back with a mischievous smile that Y/N catches. “Oh, sorry Lena, this is my friend Namjoon.” Y/N gestures to him as he stretches a hand out to shake Lena’s in greeting. 

“Nice to meet you. I’ll let you guys go though since I have another class soon. it was nice to meet you as well, Y/N.” She can’t read the glances that she gives when looking between her and Namjoon, but she is too content with making a friend to care. 

“It was nice meeting you, too.” Both Y/N and Namjoon say at the same time- they both whip their heads towards each other with pointed looks. 

“Jinx.” Namjoon quickly says.

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“You owe me a soda.” 

“A soda?”

“Yeah, but I’ll just take a hug instead.” Namjoon stretches out his arms in waiting. 

The odd gestures make her look around to see if anyone else is seeing what he is doing as well. She can’t spot any stares, but Namjoon’s confidence is definitely higher than her’s. 

“You’re embarrassing.” She can never decline a hug from him- even with her remark, she mumbles her feelings and leans in for a quick hug. A ringing from Namjoon’s own phone pulls them away from each other. 

“Hey.” He answers simply. 

“I am.” He glances down at her when he answers the person on the phone. 

“Hyung, if today's too soon-” There’s a pause when he must get cut-off by the other person- he waits with a patience she’s seen before when he’s listening with intent. 

“If you and everyone is sure, I’ll ask.” 

“Okay, I love you- bye.” He ends the call with a tight smile. He turns to Y/N with the same expression. 

“Well, I’m sorry this is so last minute- but if you’d like- the pack says today would be a good day for a visit. We can just keep the visit to seeing Taehyung in his studio, but the pack would love to keep you for dinner.” 

Dinner with a pack- with Namjoon’s pack of all things sounds intimidating. Intimidating, because she would definitely need to be making a good impression when she doesn’t even know what proper etiquette in a pack’s home would be. Of course she also thinks about Taehyung- she wants to see him again and she can’t help but admit to herself that she truly misses the unpredictable cheetah. 

“I would like to see Taehyung and his studio- but meeting your pack seems a bit…”

“Daunting? Invasive? I’ve never been in that position before and it feels like I'm out of my place if I eat dinner in your home.”  Y/N finds a soft, curious expression on Namjoon’s face, worrying her as she waits for his response. 

“If any of us were uncomfortable with you visiting- I mean even one of us- then we would wait and definitely wouldn’t bring it up. They just can’t let a guest be in the house without feeding them and getting to know them- and to be honest, you’re special. You’re someone that everyone in the pack has been curious about, especially with Taehyung being so progressive in the friendship. As for the visit being daunting, I wouldn’t say any of the guys are scary. Honestly, they’re all a bunch of mushy nerds.”

Y/N can’t stifle a ‘pfft’ of laughter at his description. She really can consider this- she really has a reason to go and information on why she should go. But-

“How do I act in someone else’s pack home.” 

“Like yourself.”

“Do I need to change? I don’t really have anything better to wear- Does my hair look bad? It’s hard to manage any different if I've already let it dry for the day- How do I know when I’ve been there too long?” Her questions come out in rambles and thoughts to herself. 

“Y/N,” the assured voice pulls her gaze to his- Namjoon’s hands place themselves on her shoulders, emphasizing their eye-contact. “Be yourself, dress in what’s comfortable for you in a new setting, you and your hair always look beautiful, and a host will always be vocal about their intentions. As one of the hosts- it is a casual visit with little-to-no preparation on a weekend, meaning there is no overstaying your welcome in this case.” 

“Of course you have all the answers.” Y/n says sarcastically, actually considering it now that she has answers and Namjoon seems overly confident in them. 

“I have lots of answers. Not all.” Namjoon points out. 

“Well, I have one answer.” 

“Hmmm, I’d love to hear it.” He hums and pushes with a voice too deep and too wanting for her to think about for a second longer. 

“I’ll go.” 

-

Taehyung - earlier that day

Namjoon left in a flurry of quick assurances this morning because of his habit of sleeping in on the weekend. Taehyung knows why he left but he also knows that Namjoon said it was just a quick meeting that Y/N was anxious for- so Taehyung stayed to work in his studio some more. 

He loves the weekends knowing that different members of the pack will be in and out of the house, thus allowing him to go inside at any time he wishes to find a warm body to wrap around. 

Despite the content he finds on the weekends, Taehyung can’t help but miss Y/N. His hopes that the pack members would be more open about her visiting have dwindled into unspoken wishes. He usually is so open, but after just two meetings- the pull he feels towards her is more than he was prepared for. He’ll wait for now.

He’ll wait until the members are comfortable, he’ll wait until he knows exactly what to say, he’ll wait until Namjoon can admit to himself that she feels like something more than a friend to them. 

-

It isn’t more than an hour after Namjoon has left when he hears a familiar knock at his studio door. He didn’t even know anyone was approaching with his focus so set on his current piece. Each piece is nothing intricate, but because of the precise shapes and movements, it takes him a while to put pieces together- especially because he likes the quieting of his thoughts so much. 

From the knock alone he knows the member that decided to risk a ‘shoo-ing’ was Seokjin. Taehyung opens the door with just a crack allowing the two to see each other. 

“Can we talk? About Y/N.” The name immediately gives way to show a perk in his features, making Seokjin smile in a knowing way that Taehyung knows too well.

Giving himself a well-deserved break, Taehyung has the conversation take place on the back porch. The comfortable couch is covered by the veranda that allows the cushions to stay plump and soil-free. Taehyung takes his place there next to a sighing Seokjin. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk about this with you before- I had to do a lot of self-reflecting before I felt like I could face you with this.” Taehyung’s schooled expressions are always perfect. But, around his pack- around those he cares for deeply- he knows they can see the slips in his features. 

“When we found out there was another cheetah, I was extremely happy for you. Taehyung, I want nothing but the best for you, and I want you to be able to have Y/N in any way you find fit- but I struggled to find a place for her upon the first time even hearing about her. I was already trying to fit her into our house and figure out how to have Jungkook around another stranger when he’s still in therapy. I was in over my head.”

“Those are valid reasons, hyung. You are about the pack.” 

“Yes, but, just as Namjoon has seemed to perfect this certain skill- I still have yet to get it right- I wasn’t putting you first in a situation that quite literally revolved around you. I’m so sorry that I didn’t make this seem as important as it truly is.” Seokjin is always so raw with everyone. As the oldest, he’s been through certain experiences that we haven’t, and with him being the youngest in his blood family he is able to understand what all of us need. With so much to think about, he always comes around. 

“I don’t blame you, hyung. It was new to all of us- it was scary and I even needed some type of restraint to be able to let myself process everything properly. The wait on being able to have her come here, the small wait between visits- it helps me not go in over my head. I want this to be genuine and well-thought.” Taehyung responds with a truth that aches in his chest. His cheetah has wanted her beside him all day and all night, but this is not something he can just do in a pack. He needs to think of himself, of Y/N, and of everyone he loves so dearly. 

“I want all of us to be open about it. And after talking to everyone except you and Namjoon- it seems like I’m the only one that was panicking- so, I will follow your lead, and I will be there for you whenever you feel you want something more or less. We can figure it out, okay? I’d love to have her over today, if you’d like to see her this soon.” 

Taehyung’s cheetah wants to immediately pounce on Seokjin for the offer- wanting to leave the fox breathless and not being able to speak another word for hours- but Taehyung lets the feeling fizzle into excitement. 

“Yes, please.”

“My sweet cheetah.” Seokjin coos with a quiet tone and subtle voice inflections. Taehyung leans forward, leading with his forehead to meet Seokjin in a head bump that lingers. “If I mess up, please know I will always make my way back to clean it up.” Seokjin says with certainty. 

“I trust you.” Is all Taehyung gives him. Trust is the most important to him, it’s the one piece of himself he gives with finality and certainty. Only six people on this planet have it. 

-

Y/N

While the Caddel house is a one-story, perfectly two-bedroom, home-y house that isn’t intimidating- Namjoon’s pack home is a two story, large property-ed, nightmare. 

Which is exactly who Y/N still has yet to get out of the parked car. 

“This seems more formal than you made it sound.”

“It’s only large because of the size of the pack.” Namjoon assures, giving her shoulder a couple squeezes that lower to her elbow. She welcomes the touch despite her nerves being on fire. 

“How big is your pack?”

“Seven guys including me.” Seven men in one house versus a measly, frail woman that has no idea how to defend herself. Though she somehow has no reason at all to believe that Namjoon would harm her or put her in a position that could possibly cause her harm- Y/N still struggles greatly with men. The only way Namjoon will know is if she tells him. It’s the only way she can guarantee that she won’t break down mid-visit.

“Namjoon, can I be honest?” She swallows the thick feeling of panic that always fights its way up when she tries to tell him something about herself. She can do this. 

“Of course, Y/N.”

“I struggle being around men. I struggled being around you, and only once I was comfortable was I presented with the ability to meet Taehyung. And I went out of my comfort zone to find that- because I trust you, I trusted Taehyung enough to meet him so suddenly and alone that next day. I trust you in a way that I’ve literally never known before- in a way that scares me more and more everyday.” She has to take a soothing breath that stops tears from falling. “I need to know something before I go into that house.” She points towards the front door that she can see from her passenger side window. 

“Okay.” Namjoon says in a way that shows he’s trying not to break the bubble she’s created for herself. 

“When I go into this house, I need to know that I won’t be put into a position that hinders me in any way. I need you to honestly tell me what you know will be the case. Because I can’t just think it- I need to hear it from someone I trust.”

She watches as he searches her for more answers, trying to uncover the little bit she was able to give him. But, he doesn’t find it, and Y/N doesn’t give anymore to him. He takes it, processes it, and remembers- thoughts that she seems to see written on him so earnestly. 

“As the leader of this pack, I can guarantee that everyone in this house puts others' needs before their own, especially a guest’s needs. Not all seven will be present right now, I think three are home including Taehyung- and I know for a fact that when Dinner comes and we are all together- they will be nothing but respectful.”

Y/N takes a few deep breaths that allow her to calm herself and allow Namjoon’s words to sink in. This is Namjoon- this is the one that always felt oddly familiar. Like he was a missing piece. 

“Thank you.” She says with genuinity that couldn’t possibly be replicated. “Let’s fuckin’ do this.” She gives herself as she unbuckles and makes sure her phone is tucked tightly into her back pocket. Somehow Namjoon is at her door in that time, opening it for her and grabbing her jacket from her arm without a question. 

The front of the house provides a look into their lives. This is the type of home she thought she’d never even get a peek into, let alone being invited into with certainty. The grass is perfectly cut and too green. Despite the boring lawn, the surrounding plants and vegetation allow a diverse array of pretty things to look at. The plants lining the pathway to the door catch her eye. They’re perfectly taken care of. 

“Seokjin prides himself in the health of our pretty plants. He loves it, loves taking care of us and feeding us. It’s very cute really.” Namjoon’s warm laugh says all she needs to know. They all love each other. She’s going to witness that with her own eyes instead of imagining what it would be like to have a pack. All she can do is nod. 

“He’s the eldest, but not the first of our pack, he’ll probably greet you first before Taehyung even knows you’re here.” 

Step-by-step, she gets closer to an impending end. The dark, woody front door complements the house so well. Without a knock, Namjoon is twisting the knob, only to look back at Y/N with questioning eyes. 

“Let’s fuckin’ do this.” She whispers next to the open door, giving Namjoon a little pump of her fist in the air despite her eyes begging to release emotions that feel all too much. He gives her a few more long seconds before swinging the door open all the way and stretching his arm out for her to go first. 

“Shoes are fine to stay here, and the top row of slippers are for guests.” Namjoon is quiet with his pointed instructions, allowing her some last moments of calm silence. Despite his words, he sets her shoes aside for her and sets a pair of slippers in front of her socked feet. His and her jacket already hung on a rack of many outer layers.

The front entrance doesn’t hide anything in terms of layout. There is no wall or hallway blocking off the large living room. It’s all clean, yet lived-in. Y/N can see it in the conveniently placed blankets that are folded onto one large, cushioned rocking chair- all varying in colors and patterns. She can see it in the shoes that scatter the entrance, and the movie cases that sit randomly along the entertainment center. She can smell it even, some type of baked good scent permeates into the air and welcomes her with open arms. Thankfully, the only thing that doesn’t welcome her, is the pack members. It’s strangely quiet.

“I apologize if anything is a mess, I can’t always predict what these animals will do.” Y/N smiles at the double meaning, shaking her head with a soft ‘it’s okay.’ 

“This is the living room, of course, and then up the stairs are the bedrooms. It’s originally six bedrooms but we really only use the three on the top floor for their intended purpose. The ones on this floor are now a workout room, supply room, and an extra closet.” He leads her with that warm, comforting hand she loves so much, gesturing in directions where hallways lead and doors are shut. 

“We have two bathrooms down here,” he points to the closest one for her to remember. “And three upstairs. And this-” he leads her into a curved door frame that opens in a large kitchen. “Is the kitchen. Exactly where I knew Seokjin would be.” The amusement in his voice gives her the boost to eye the broad back of the man she now knows is Seokjin, the oldest in the pack. He seems to be doing something at the counter she can’t see, his large, tall frame hiding it from her. 

“I’m sorry, let me just stretch this dough and then I’ll be a gentleman.” His voice doesn’t seem to match his body- higher than Namjoon’s but effortlessly smooth. It takes him only a few seconds longer before turning to the sink that sits in a counter that is in the middle of the kitchen. It’s an odd placement, she thinks, but she’s soon distracted by Seokjin. 

He’s…stunning. To put it very simply. His hair is a fluffy, unnatural orange that somehow doesn’t look weird on him. His pointed ears match his hair perfectly and end with white tips. His features add to the overall awe-feel that he seems to give off in wafts. She’s had just enough time to look at him as he washes his hands with white sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He walks around the counter to show the full apron he’s wearing covered in flour and other smudges. 

“Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin, eldest, red fox.” He sticks his hand out for her to shake, a gesture that she’s only done a few times. She takes the opportunity, only to conform, as she really doesn’t see the need for them. 

“Hyung, this is Y/N.” Namjoon speaks up for her, as she seemingly doesn’t have a word to say. 

“Sorry, Y/N L/N, cheetah.” She shrugs as she states it, not used to stating her animal. The addition, for some reason, causes the pretty Seokjin to laugh unapologetically. 

“Yes, you are quite infamous. It’s an honor to meet another cheetah- it’s an honor to meet you.” He specifies, leaning the slightest bit closer as he gives her a warm smile. Wow, he’s unreal. “I apologize for the distraction I had. I wasn’t sure what you liked, specifically.” He heads towards the counter next to the stove, Namjoon gives her the smallest nudge in his direction. She doesn’t even need a glance at his face to make sure it’s okay, the smell alone begs her to move forward. 

“I decided on two sweet loaves and two savory. So, the sweet almond is done.” He gestures towards a pretty loaf of uncut bread still in the pan. The top is decorated with sliced almonds and a white drizzle she can’t name. “And the sweet yet tart blueberry lemon is done.” Another loaf with white drizzle, but this time she can see the blueberries and lemon swirls from the top of the bread. “Then, if you don’t want sweet, I made a jalapeño cheddar that’s still in the oven and am just about done prepping a simple sourdough.” He ends with a content smile, pleased with his array and abilities it seems. 

“It all smells amazing.” Is all she manages to say. “I’m excited to try them.” She must sound as meek as she feels in his presence, because his once assured smile turns into one of soft things. 

“We’ll make sure you get to try them all and take as much as you’d like with you.” He says with an assured nod. “Is there anything you prefer for dinner?” 

“No, I’ll eat anything.” She says honestly. 

“Mmm, what’s your favorite then?” 

“Meat.” It’s always the same answer, always the one thing she craves above all else. 

“That is the perfect answer.” He says just as a loud voice calls out from down one of the halls. 

“Namjoon hyung!” The voice is accompanied by quick stomping that has Y/N slink back behind Namjoon and placing a hand onto his wrist to still be able to see around his tall frame. 

Very quickly, a short-haired young man with ears that match Namjoon’s rushes around the corner. His sweaty face and shirt tell Y/N that he was probably in the gym that Namjoon mentioned before arriving. 

“Jimin, please no yelling for the evening.” The instruction has the man- Jimin- trying to peek at Y/N who’s now embarrassed by her own instincts. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I totally forgot.” He steps forward with confidence. Y/N quickly rights herself, stepping out and giving him a small wave. 

“I’m Jimin, Park Jimin, brown wolf.” He says with a matching small wave. She is thankful for the lack of a handshake. Two wolves, she realizes. Two wolves, one fox, a cheetah…and some others she doesn’t know yet. Already it’s an odd bunch to her. 

“I’ll be busy until dinner, but it was nice to meet you.” He gives her a genuine smile despite his rush. “Hyung, I can’t get this audio file to work, could you help me?” 

“Yeah, give me a minute, I’ll be right there.” Namjoon assures, turning to Y/N. 

“Jungkook is going to be more shy than the others, so I think for now it’d be best if Taehyung finally got to spend some time with you.” He says, giving her upper arms a quick rub just as Taehyung did that one time- a soothing motion that has her melting. 

“Okay.” 

The back yard is no competition for the pretty front yard, but it still has its charm that Y/N prefers over the front. Its purpose is comfort, and that is of the utmost importance to her. The small shed-type building is what Namjoon leads her towards, taking confident strides as she tries to take in the detail of their home. 

He gives a light knock that contrasts his features, making Y/N smile at the charms he so obviously has. The door almost immediately cracks open, then a couple seconds later it’s opening all the way to show a comfortably dressed Taehyung. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hi.” No matter their last meeting, Y/N is shy around the other cheetah. 

“You alright?” Namjoon asks with another squeeze to her arm. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Call me if you need anything, or just go on ahead inside if you need anything, Seokjin would be happy to help you. Taehyung.” Namjoon gives him a pointed look that she can’t quite understand. But, the younger seems to understand as he gives a nod back. 

Taehyung is pulling Y/N into the studio quickly, shutting the door with a soft click despite his movements. 

“It’s bigger than it looks outside.” Y/N observes, finding the shelves and cupboards to be full of supplies and paintings large and small leaning against the walls in unbreakable lines. She tries to focus on the paintings and what they display, but Taehyung is suddenly stepping closer. 

“Taehyung?” 

“I missed you.” He says unapologetically. She studies his face as he does her’s, trying to find a lie or a manipulating twitch. He’s certain and shows it with a crease in his forehead that gives a painful undertone. 

“I missed you, too. I was wondering how you were after the trip we took.” She says honestly. 

“Tired, but- you didn’t text me that.” 

“Ah, I’m not one to text, I’m sorry.” She tries not to wither under his intense gaze. It’s different than it was before, like he’s holding something back and she just can’t place what it is. “Are you okay?” 

“I missed you.” He says again. The more she observes him, the more she can see the small notes of something she’s missing. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, wanting. His ears twitch in odd intervals, his tail not as swift as usual, but more of a snake ready to strike. 

“Do you need something from me? You have to tell me, Taehyung, I’m not sure about these things yet.” She says honestly, earnestly, as she can feel a smoke of anxiety coming from him. 

Despite his jerky movements, he reaches for Y/N’s right hand with a slow question. She brings it to his hand in answer, allowing what he wants. He’s still slow to moving even with her allowance- placing her hand on his left cheek to cup his warm skin. A sigh leaves him without restraint. She can do that- she can touch and soothe because she too wants that. That’s okay. 

She brings her other hand up to cup his right cheek on her own, watching as Taehyung becomes less and less tense. She stays there until Taehyund drops his hand from her wrist. She moves as she wishes then, down to his neck, then his shoulders. She’s pulling him in before she can overthink it. 

On her tippy-toes she wraps her arms around Taehyung’s shoulders, giving them both the chance to have this. Giving herself the chance to experience this- a whole feeling whenever they are apart and come back together. Taehyung doesn’t waste any time reciprocating, bringing Y/N in by her torse. The tight squeeze of his hug isn’t uncomfortable, but shows her just how much he did miss her and how much he did need this contact. It’s comforting to hear reassurances and have actions to back them up- Taehyung has been open with her, and he is showing his want to include her in his life. 

She could almost purr at the warmth he gives off- somehow it’s more than Namjoon. She loves it- basks in it. 

“You seem anxious.” Taehyung breaks the silence suddenly. His face turns to give the top of her head a soothing rub. “Are you okay?” 

“Meeting new people is hard for me. I was just worried about what to expect when meeting everyone and how to act here.” 

“You should be yourself. You’ll like them.” 

“It’s more about hoping they’ll like me- that usually determines how someone treats you.” 

Taehyung pulls away only to give Y/N a faint expression she has yet to see on his face. 

“What’s not to like?” 

She tries not to dwell on how much he doesn’t know. Snippets of her past and what she’s done flash in and out of her mind. This is a new her, though. She’s always been genuine- Taehyung still knows the present Y/N and he somehow likes her. She’ll focus on keeping that intact. 

-

Taehyung takes the time to answer all her questions as he shows her all of his supplies. The difference in mediums is quite fascinating to her- there’s so many ways to make something, so much one could think up. Taehyung seems to think a lot with how many pieces he has done. It feels like hundreds are stacked and leaning on top of each other. It’s hard to focus on just one, but she makes a small round and ends up dwelling on the piece that seems to be in progress. A wooden stand holds up the painting perfectly- a made-for item that she finds extremely well-thought out. A small table and chair are perfectly placed for convenience, obviously allowing Taehyung to sit comfortably and reach his plate of paint. The painting is far more interesting though. 

Muted colors are perfectly placed and beautifully crafted to create a lake surrounded by trees. Some spots are left blank or obviously unfinished, but it’s still the most gorgeous thing she’s ever seen. 

“This is what you do every time? This style of art?” 

“Yes, it’s all I like to do. I paint things I like.” 

“Taehyung, it’s gorgeous- I don't know anything about what art needs to be, but this seems like it was made with so much thought and care. It feels like you.” 

“It’s fauvism. That’s the style, but it’s just something that helps everything be quiet.” Taehyung points a finger up to his head, “in here.” 

“That sounds great.” She quips to herself more than anything. 

“You can try.” 

“Oh, no, that would be too difficult. It’d come out looking awful.” 

“It’s not about how it looks in the end. It’s about how you feel.” Y/N really needs to know if these wise words that Taehyung is always spewing is a normal occurrence. 

She dwells on the idea, really more curious about how it would be to use the supplies than making art itself will turn out. 

“What can I use?”

-

Taehyung was absolutely right in stating that making art in this way truly quiets the brain. She has no idea how long it has been with her painting not resembling anything specific, but only streaks of colors that feel ‘right’. Taehyung told her to do that- ‘just do what you want, what feels right’. It’s really nice to try something new that she actually enjoys. This is something she could definitely do often, especially with so much to explore and learn about. 

The time passes without her noticing, and Taehyung slinks up behind her with no notice as well. 

“Break time.” Is all he says, producing a yawn that has Y/N looking up at him with a coo daring to break past her lips. She stops the thought, instead standing and cleaning her brush just as Taehyung taught her. 

“Are you done for the day?”

“No, just want to nap.” Taehyung points a thumb to the large, dark-gray couch lining one wall of the studio. 

“Oh, I can give you some privacy.” Y/N goes to undo her ‘smock’ that the older cheetah let her borrow for the day with her white shirt. 

“No,” he stops her as she gets it loose and off of her. “I want you to nap with me. It’ll be warmer, better.” Taehyung states without a sight of embarrassment. Y/N on the other hand is far too worried about how two people would nap on that couch comfortably. 

“How would we nap together?” 

“Are you tired?” He suddenly asks. 

“Kinda?”

“Easily, then.” 

That is all he provides her before he’s stretching out onto the couch cushions, pushing his back up to the back of the couch as he lies on his side. He gives a couple taps to the space in front of him once he’s settled with his head on an extra pillow. 

He can’t be serious. Surely this is too invasive. But, sure enough he is waiting with tired, pouty lips and another couple taps when she hesitates. The one thing that pushes her forward is that call she can’t seem to understand yet. Her cheetah yearns for this- a palpable thing that seems to push her forward to stand right in front of the couch. Her movements are light, calculated as she maneuvers into a lying position in front of Taehyung. There’s only an inch or so of space between them when Taehyung wraps his available arm around her and pulls her in that last bit, his hand resting just below the nape of her neck. 

The closeness from the gesture causes her to stiffen- until Taehyung’s hand is finally at her nape, massaging those circles into the muscle just as Namjoon did to her. The gesture causes her the same feelings, relaxing just about every muscle in her body to mush. 

This is where Namjoon said he’d learned it, and Taehyung just knew that it’d help her. He’d like it too then, right? With jelly arms, she wraps her arm around him the same way he did to her. She finds that spot with no-so-calculated movements, but easily starts a low-pressure massage as well. Taehyung is instantly purring into her neck- the spot his head happened to settle as she basically lies her head on his. She feels the deep rumblings from her stomach to her toes. 

She doesn’t even realize that her own purrs start up without worry, until Taehyung is mumbling something that sounds a whole lot like ‘pretty’. She can’t focus at all, she can’t tell if he’s talking or if it’s just his rumbling vibrations. She doesn’t last long and soon falls asleep without a second thought. 

Warm, comfortable, and purring. 

-

Namjoon

“Did she decide to stay for dinner, hyung?” 

Namjoon made sure to check on the anxious bunny before dinner and his first meeting of Y/N. Jungkook isn’t one that grows comfortable quickly, and he definitely isn’t one that enjoys a large change in his routine. In this case, it’s not the biggest change for him, but definitely a scary one. 

“Yes, and she’s just as nervous as you are, so our attention for the evening will be as it is normally, just with another person that will join in on the conversation. I promise it will be okay, bun.” 

“I know. I definitely want to meet her. I’m just still working on the trust thing. ‘Just because I don’t trust her immediately doesn’t mean she’s bad’. That’s what I’ve been telling myself.”

“That’s great reassurance. I’ll do you one better, though. The leader you trust trusts Y/N enough to bring her into your home. I would never bring someone here that would put you in harm’s way.” 

“I know, hyung.”

“I’m proud of you no matter what, though. Just let me or any of the others know if you need a break, okay?”

“Of course.”

Just as Namjoon gives Jungkook an assured peck to the base of his bunny ear, their bedroom door opens to an amazing smelling Jin. 

“Could you get the cheetahs, please? Dinner is ready. Could you help me place the table, bun?” The eager-to-help bunny is already up and following his eldest hyung before Namjoon is able to exit. 

A few knocks to the studio door produce no answer. Namjoon can immediately guess that Taehyung has convinced Y/N to take a nap in his wish to take a break. Perfect. He cracks the door open just to be nice.

“Can I come in?” Namjoon makes sure to ask just like every other time. 

“N-” He can hear a groggy start to Taehyung’s disapproval before he’s cut off. Another few seconds pass before he- surprisingly- gets a different answer. 

“Come in.” Taehyung calls.

Namjoon takes care to make sure he’s quiet, but really is curious about the situation Y/N has Taehyung in that would allow her to convince him to let someone into his studio. He’s not too surprised to find the two cheetahs in a cuddling embrace. He would think that the two fell back asleep in the few seconds it took him to enter, if it were not for Y/N’s sleepy face turning to peek at Namjoon smiling down at her. 

So pretty and so soft. He can get used to seeing her so content and safe. 

“‘mjoon.” She says with a dopey smile he knows all too well. She had a great nap.

“Y/N.” Namjoon says in the same manner she did. 

“Missed you.” She seems to slip her arm out of a place he can’t figure out, stretching her body in whatever way she can and reaching out for a- patiently waiting- expectant Namjoon. He grabs her hand that looks like it’s too heavy for her to keep up. 

“I missed you too. Are you hungry? Dinner is ready and the others would love to meet you.” 

Those words seem to get her pushing away from a groaning Taehyung with a burst of very unexpected energy. Namjoon helps her still-tired limbs up to a standing position. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” 

“Mhm.”

“Are you hungry?” 

“Mhm.”

“Are you okay to meet the others right now?” 

She stops to think this time before responding- seemingly taking a mental list of actions such as fixing her hair and rubbing at her tired eyes. 

“I think so. If I look okay- God, I shouldn’t have slept right before this.” She groans in a voice that shows she’s still slightly tired. 

“You seem less worried than you were before, I think the nap was a good idea.” Namjoon takes extra care to fix a few pieces of her hair that seem out of place. Taehyung finally takes his time to stretch properly and stand from the couch that Namjoon just knows is too warm for him to be comfortable sitting on. 

“Can I just use the restroom first?” Y/N asks with pleading eyes. 

“Of course. Taehyung, can you go see if Jin-hyung needs help with anything else please.” 

With a head bump, he’s out of the studio before him and Y/N are, following in his footsteps to get into the house and lead her to the bathroom. 

Y/N

The bathroom Namjoon leads her to is similar to the one she knows in the Caddel house. It’s not as extravagant as she imagined it would be, but honestly, she’s thankful for that in the moment. In this simple bathroom, she’s able to focus on how presentable she is. Luckily it takes no time, realizing she doesn’t have much to worry about. Even if she did, she’d be quick in front of the mirror. She’s always fast to finish looking into them. 

Namjoon is happily waiting outside of the bathroom to lead her back to the dining room with company. Again, she’s lucky to have only Seokjin and Taehyung in the room when she gets there. But, it’s not long before a new pack member is coming out of the kitchen with a few sets of silverware in hand. 

“Jungkook,” Namjoon seems to encourage the shy-looking man with a hand. “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Jungkook.” The man she now knows as Jungkook is soft and subtle with his gestures towards her. He gives her a smile that probably mirrors her terrified smile. 

“Black bunny,” Is all he says, before continuing his rounds to put out silverware. Once he’s done and out of the room Namjoon is closing in and whispering in her ear. 

“He’s shy, but not unkind. He’s just very nervous.” Y/N didn’t get any unkind feelings with him, but she’s happy to know that it isn’t exactly her fault in a way that is uncommon.

“I’m gonna go see if they need any more help, go ahead and sit down here.” Namjoon directs her to a seat that sits in the middle of two other seats. She’s only hoping that the two she’s comfortable with will be sitting on either side of her. 

“Can I help in some way?” She asks before he leaves her alone. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just to bring out the food now that the plates and silverware is set.” 

She sits in her anxious skin as she’s left alone. When footsteps lead back into the dining room she’s expecting Namjoon or someone she met already but- she isn’t always lucky. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I thought Joon was with you.” A bright-voiced man looks back into the kitchen where she can’t see, but he ultimately decides to just introduce himself. “I’m Hoseok, but Hobi is fine, I’m a white tiger.” Y/N really can’t seem to take her eyes off of his hair. The perfectly cut style is platinum white with absolutely no imperfections. It suits him perfectly and matches his white and black tinged ears. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” 

“Very nice to meet you, is it okay if I sit before Namjoon gets back?”

“Of course.” Y/N automatically likes the way the white tiger carries himself. She’s even excited to meet another type of cat. 

“So, is everyone being normal?” Hoseok suddenly asks as he sits in a chair across from her and to her left- three chairs line on each side of the table and one on each end, a perfect eight. 

“Everyone has been really nice? If that’s normal.” Y/N tries to answer in the same manner he asks. At her response, he gives her a bright laugh that instantly makes her feel like smiling. 

“That’s good and yes it’s normal. Unless one of the younger ones can’t find anything better to do than argue.” He tells her, making her smile grow at the implied personalities of some of the members. 

“Okay, everything’s pretty hot still, so let’s please wait until everyone’s sat.” Seokjin’s voice pulls the two’s attention away from each other and onto the line of four hybrids that come in carrying various plates of food. Y/N is immediately in awe with the amount and variety. Namjoon seems to taunt her even more by placing the dish of sliced, perfectly pink meat in front of her. 

With the call out from Seokjin, the others that were nowhere in sight seem to manifest. Jimin hurries around the corner with damp hair and a new set of clothes, sitting down just in front of Y/N. Namjoon is able to sit next to her on the right and, thankfully, Taehyung on her left. Seokjin finally sets down the pitchers of chilled water before taking one of the head chairs. Jungkook sits next to Jimin who immediately gives the bunny a scrunched-nose head bump. And finally, a new face finishes the picture as he takes the other end chair, opposite to Seokjin. 

“Before we start- Y/N this is Yoongi.” Namjoon gives her the information.

“Black panther.” Is all he says as he pours and takes a few gulps of water. 

“He’s a man of few words, don’t worry.” Namjoon leans in and whispers. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She still gives him despite his short greeting, feeling as though that is what’s most respectful. 

“Perfect, let’s eat.” Seokjin says unceremoniously. The sudden movements take her off guard, watching as the routine of giving and taking happens quickly yet precisely. Before she even knows it there is a scoop or a few pieces from each dish that was passed around. Everyone eats with ease that shows their comfortability with each other, dipping in and out of conversation. It’s nothing like what she’s used to. Eating with Maria and Richard happens in front of the TV. The two are old enough that they don’t mind their nights being spent like so, but Y/N can see how much more enjoyable this way of ending your day is. 

“So, Y/N, where are you originally from?” The question from Seokjin throws her so off-guard that she doesn’t even second guess the look she gives to the eldest as she opens and closes her mouth in thought. 

“I’m not sure, actually.” She finally says, expecting to kill the mood with her first attempt at conversation. But it’s true. She doesn’t know the place or how she got there. 

“That’s okay, some of us don’t know either.” Namjoon answers, causing Y/N to be taken aback only because of the normality that is in the home. She wouldn’t guess that some of these hybrids don’t know where they’re from like she does. She does catch a few pointed smiles that are there to comfort her, and a few that are all too eager to look away from her in their own thoughts.

The lull in conversation that includes her provides a great opportunity for her to finally try the food. With her fork, she goes for whatever catches her eye the most. The meat. She can now see that the sliced pieces were sitting on a layer of a dark sauce she’s never seen before lining the plate. She wastes no time being subtle, sticking the whole slice of beef into her mouth. 

Warm, soft, and perfectly cooked to her liking. The savory sauce even has a bit of sourness that adds to the overall goodness. Everything about it is perfect.  She goes for the pillow  of whites that she can only assume is mashed potatoes just like Maria makes sometimes. Upon scooping them into her mouth, she realizes that they’re honestly better than Maria’s. They’re creamy and light in her mouth- almost like a whipped cream would be. The flavors in the potatoes compliment it well and add to the beef well. 

She didn’t realize food could taste like this and compliment each other so well. With her usual meals, she’s focused on eating foods that she knows were picked only based on what her doctor recommended. And she’s now realizing how different everyone makes some of the same things. She doesn’t want to admit that Seokjin has definitely changed a part of her with this meal- that seems embarrassingly excessive- but it’s very true. 

“Good?” Namjoon asks beside her, a person she forgot was there completely. 

“So good. Perfect.” She states without missing a beat. 

In her effort to clean off her plate, she misses how Namjoon watches her as she eats in his home. She misses the content look Seokjin gives after he put so much effort into making the steak as he knows Taehyung likes it. She misses the look that Yoongi gives Namjoon through his lashes upon seeing the wolf’s expression towards her. 

Overall, she misses the text she gets from Richard, the message sitting unread at the top of her notification as the night slowly comes to an end. 

Her food is polished off and the conversation made towards her is more easy-going than the first question Seokjin asked. The whole pack must have gotten the point without it even being stated. Instead, she’s asked about her hobbies or favorite things to do, what she wants to try, and what her favorite foods are- pushed solely by Seokjin to answer. They all put in their own effort to include her. She doesn’t mind when Jungkook and Yoongi are included with just a hum of an answer instead of words. She’s just happy to be there now that she knows it’s safe.

She's more surprised about how young everyone is. Yes, she's the youngest at the table, but Jungkook is only a year older than her and Seokjin is only 6 years older than her. She's fascinated by their compatibility with them all being so young- as well as the success they seem to have in numbers of their pack and where they all live.

Namjoon never misses a beat when she’s unsure, giving her polite direction or ideas so she can think instead of letting her anxieties rid her brain of what to say. She could never thank him properly for the effort he puts into her. 

“Are you getting tired?” Namjoon asks her as she stands next to him and a smiling ‘Hobi’ that insisted on helping the wolf clean the dishes after dinner. 

“Only a little, the nap wasn’t long enough.” She quips. Her efforts today have made her tired, but she’s just really happy to see Namjoon in his own comforting place. She didn’t realize the small changes that would take place when he’s somewhere he knows as home. He makes more effort to give her calming touches and lingering looks that give her the confidence to be there and talk comfortably. 

“Let me just finish these and then we can wrap up and get you home, yeah?”

Why would the first answer in her head be ‘no’? 

“Take your time.” She says instead, taken aback by her own thoughts. “Could I…maybe thank everyone before leaving. I don’t want to just leave without making sure everyone knows I appreciate that they let me into their home.” 

Instead of a direct answer, she gets an unexpected squeal of a noise from Hoseok. 

“Oh my god, she’s the cutest, Joon.” 

“I know, it pains me.” 

She can only stare at the two as Namjoon finishes washing the dishes while Hoseok stays to dry the dishes. ‘What was that?’ Namjoon leads her into the living room- with no mention of this previous comment- where four of the pack members are sitting in different ways to watch a movie. 

Taehyung’s focus is immediately on her upon entering the room, while Jimin, Seokjin, and Jungkook all take a few beats before looking over to a waiting Namjoon. 

“Y/N is getting tired, so I’ll go ahead and take her home before it’s too late.” Namjoon gives her a little head bop to indicate that he’s done. 

“Uh, thank you for letting me into your pack home, and thank you for allowing me to eat with you. I appreciate everyone being so kind.” She gives with a smile that’s more awkward than anything, but she’s proud of herself for mentioning it without slipping up. 

“We’d be happy to have you over whenever one of the guys wants to see you.” Seokjin specifies with words that are specially picked. “Also, Yoongi turned in early because of his early schedule tomorrow, but we’ll let him know your feelings.” He also says with a care that Y/N appreciates greatly as well. 

“Thank you.” She finally says with a look to each member. With her final look being towards Jungkook, she finds his eyes on her tail wrapped around her waist. She instinctively wraps it tighter at the realization, hoping it doesn’t look as odd as she thinks it would be to hybrids that actually have the muscle to keep their long tails up and prettily sitting. 

-

She finally remembers to check her phone in the car on the way home. She finds that Richard sends her a message. One that she never gets. 

‘Hey, I’m sorry, but I’ll be working late tonight. I picked up an extra meal from my lunch and set it aside in the fridge for your dinner.’

‘Hey, my coworker is going to have to stop by the house to grab something out of the garage for an out-of-town job tomorrow. The back garage door is unlocked, so he’ll just be in and out. Please look out for a black truck if you’re at the house when he comes.’

He’d just let someone in and out of his house with her possibly being there? He’s okay with him in his house while he’s not there? 

The questions take over to cause panic to bubble up into her throat. He sent that second text only five minutes ago. She could still run into his coworker. That realization makes her feel a dread so instant- could it be the same man from last time? The one that Namjoon unknowingly told her to be aware of in her mention of cheetahs being ‘exotic’. 

Richard wouldn’t let someone like him be around her alone after that encounter. Would he? No, he’s a good man. He’s a good man. Richard wouldn’t do that. 

Her convincing takes up the whole ride, only realizing she’s home once Namjoon is at her door, opening it and letting the breeze remind her where she is. Her unbuckling is done with numb fingers. Her anxious movements to get out have her struggling to seem normal. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks just as she climbs out and heads for the door. She feels sick as she responds, hoping it all sounds normal. 

“Yeah, just tired.” 

At the door, she fumbles with the key in her back pocket, taking a quiet deep breath before finally getting the key into the lock. Namjoon walked her up to the door behind her and waits for her to get inside safely.

 “It was nice having your company. If you ever need a place to get away from ‘volunteer Namjoon’ just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay.” She forces out and turns to switch on the lights in the living room with quick, shaky hands. 

“Hey,” Namjoon’s warm hand is on her shoulder to get her attention, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

No, ask him to stay. Ask him, please. Don’t lie to him. He won’t know how you feel if you lie. Just have him wait until that guy comes and goes. 

‘What if he has to stay for long? What if that guy just shows up and leaves with no other hindrance? She can’t just ask him to stay when she took up his whole day.’

Her thoughts contradict each other and fight as if they are two separate people.

“I’m just really tired, suddenly. But, I enjoyed seeing you today, like this.” She points out, hoping he doesn’t see the screaming in her eyes. Hoping he doesn’t keep asking. She’ll definitely give in if he asks again. 

“I enjoyed seeing you as well. Get some rest, okay? And let me know if you need anything.” He finds her eyes when they stray away from his. “Anything.” He repeats. 

“Okay. Goodnight.” She finalizes with a tight smile. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

She shuts the door and turns to the living room to find an empty, quiet house. One that seems all too unsafe. More unsafe than the house full of seven men. To be honest, being in that house was the safest she’s felt in a long time. Maybe it’s because Richard wasn’t in it. Maybe it’s because they actually considered how she felt. 

Maybe she just needs rest. 

-

Namjoon

Leaving her like that was hard for Namjoon. Something about her change in demeanor and how she responded to him was unsettling. She’s never been that short with him, never had the need to stare at anything but him- only when she’s shy is she that way, but, this was entirely different. Something in himself was screaming to keep pushing. He stays sat in his car in the Caddel driveway for another 15 minutes before he realizes she won’t change her mind. 

Maybe he should’ve asked once more. Maybe he should’ve asked to make sure she wasn’t alone for the night. Maybe he should’ve just asked her to stay at the house in the guest room where she’d be safe and in his vicinity. 

Maybe he just needs rest. 

-

Sleep finds him in a series of thoughts that he can’t get out of his head. Something feels wrong no matter how he tries to think about it. He looks around to his pack members fast asleep. All were excited to end the night once he was back home, all shared their thoughts about Y/N and were happy to have finally met the other cheetah. Nothing in the house was giving him the feeling he got when dropping Y/N off at home. 

Still, he sleeps- and wakes at an ungodly hour with no reason. 

Except, there is a reason. A series of loud, sure knocks is beat into their front door. This time, Seokjin just about shoots up to immediately look over at the anxious wolf. The two share a silent conversation as the others somehow haven’t woken up yet- thankfully. 

The two hurry to throw on shirts and shorts, making their way to the front door. Passing the living room clock, Namjoon can see it’s only a few minutes past 5am. 

He’s the first one to the door, and the first to see who stands on the other side through the peephole. He opens the door immediately. 

“Is this the residence of Kim Namjoon?” Two officers, one human and one hybrid stand at the door. 

“Yes, I’m Namjoon.” He says with no tiredness in his voice as Seokjin catches up to him. 

“What’s going on?” Seokjin asks, his voice showing he just obviously woke up. 

“We were given some information about you upon bringing in a Y/N L/N last night. We have reason to believe that you were a witness in where Y/N was before she made it back home? We were wondering if you’d come in for some questioning regarding her location and the lead up to her going home.” 

That sick feeling was this. This is his fault.

[fbfh]

hii! could I request headcanons for leo and a reader (gender neutral or female, whatever u prefer) with chronic fatigue? there's barely any fics with cfs rep and he's my comfort character so i thought i'd ask T-T. i adore your writing and it's great to see that the hoo fandom is still alive. thank you sm!!

oh man oh boy I love this one anon. my dearest darlingest anoniest anon. one song that always makes me think of how it feels to be in a relationship with Leo is acolyte by slaughter beach dog. Leo can always tell when your fatigue is getting bad, sometimes before you can. There's this sort of soft way he looks at you when he knows you just need to rest a little. Whatever your needs are, Leo will always be sure to meet them. If you need to lay down and sleep or rest for a while, he'll make sure you're in optimum napping conditions. Need some cuddles? he's already spooning you. Need to be alone? no problem, he's gonna work on some of his prototypes in the garage for a while, just text or call if you need anything. forehead kiss. longing warm gaze.

"I love you, estrella."

punctuated by another kiss, ofc. he always has ibuprofen or other pain killers for when you start to feel achy, and he's better at helping you keep track of your meds than your pill tracker app. Leo's love language is "I invented this for you to make your life easier", like the guy who invented rubber gloves. Leo loves you to the point of invention. he's joked for years that he's going to build you a Jetsons house, so everything is perfectly automated. all you need to do is sit in a chair while you glide down an assembly line and everything will be done for you. sometimes you text him and tell him you're having a jane jetson day. he always comes right over with snacks and tea and anything else you might need. he'll cuddle you for a while, help you out with some housework, do a little meal prep for you. he never, ever makes you feel bad or even neutral about having chronic fatigue. if it ever gets you down, he'll be right there with hugs and kisses and the sweetest, softest, most encouraging words. he tells you how he would hold up the sky for you or crawl out of hell, so helping with laudry and dishes when you're having a bad day is really no problem at all for him. he's happy to do it, happy to know your needs are met, happy to be the one to meet them. if you get any other symptoms like headaches or sore throats, he'll get every home remedy under the sun from his mom and you'll try them out until he finds what will work for you. Leo slowly makes good on his joking promise to make you a jetsons house, and you soon find your place filled with inventions here and there from Leo, little things to make your life easier. and they work. it takes so much stress out of your life knowing that your dish washer can now rinse, wash, dry, and put away your dishes, that your fridge organizes itself and prints out lists of what you're running low on - it can even send them to your phone to automatically order them. you have a roomba that Leo turned into the monster truck of roombas. not only does it vaccuum, but it also sweeps, mops, picks up your floor, can get you stuff from other rooms, and folds laundry. it's also a dehumidifier. you named him mr. butlertron. and Leo loves every motherfucking moment of it. even if all you can do is sit or lay down in the same room as him while he cleans or cooks or works on his projects, it always makes it so much better because you're there. you're there with him, so everything is good. perfect.

[dancingacrossthemilkyway]

Make a drabble for my time travel au pls

It shouldn’t be so difficult to keep up an act, but Jon never was much of an actor to begin with.

In a perfect world, he could blame the slip-ups that almost reveal they’re dating on someone else. Martin, for instance, given he is the other half of this particular equation. However Martin does a significantly better job at keeping everything under wraps - something that shouldn’t be a surprise after everything they’ve gone through. No, his fault is being slightly too aloof at times these days or when he’s blunter than he ought to be, compared to how he was a matter of weeks ago. Still, Tim and Sasha simply worry over him, concerned that something has happened in his personal life to upset him. When he delivers Jon tea and occasionally shuts the door behind him, they assume he’s in trouble again, none the wiser about the kiss he places on Jon’s forehead or the casual way they chat with him leaning against Jon’s desk. 

Jon, however. He’s not as subtle as he’d like. It’s been a point of contention with himself for over a decade that he more or less wears his heart on his sleeve, despite every attempt otherwise. It certainly doesn’t help that he can’t lie to save his life. 

All of this means he generally goes out of his way to avoid Martin because he’s well aware of the fact that he cannot control how softly he looks at him. 

So far, it’s been a successful strategy. Sasha assumes he’s kicked up his dislike of Martin a notch and hasn’t thought too much further into it; Tim’s spent much of his time preparing to comfort Martin after Jon inevitably does something to upset him. This does nothing, unfortunately, to save them when he’s forced to be in the room with all three of them to prepare for the inevitable arrival of Jane Prentiss. 

There is nothing to worry about, he tells himself as he gathers the pertinent statements along with a list of reasons they should be preparing that hopefully won’t trigger suspicion. I simply won’t look at him, or speak to him, or even acknowledge that he exists. It is an absolutely reasonable plan, one that he’s confident he can stick to. 

“...hey boss,” Tim starts about halfway through Jon’s explanation of why he believes Prentiss is inhabiting the tunnels underneath the Institute. “Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding looking at Martin the past 30 minutes?”

Jon startles visibly at the question, clutching his pen tighter. He clears his throat and glances at the table, setting down the pen in favor of picking up his papers and organizing them. “He has yet to ask any relevant questions. I don’t see why I should focus my attention on him.”

“It’s just that, you know, you’ve glanced at both Sasha and me several times by now. Doing the whole-” Tim wiggles his fingers at his eyes with an easy grin, “-eye contact thing to make sure we’re listening and understanding. But not Martin.”

“Yeah, actually, Tim’s right.” Sasha sits up in her chair and leans forward, placing her elbows on her desk and frowning at him. “You’ve been treating him like he doesn’t exist lately, Jon. That’s not okay.”

“Well, I-” Shit. Jon swallows, stumbling over his words in his attempt to come up with some sort of believable excuse. “Martin, he - that is, I simply-”

A long-suffering sigh comes from Martin’s desk. “Guys, it’s okay. Jon doesn’t have to like me.” As usual, Martin comes to his rescue right before he makes an even bigger mess of things. “What matters is that we do the job, right?”

“There’s plenty of studies out there that show it’s important that people who work closely together need to have the ability to get along if they’re going to be successful,” Sasha argues with a shake of her head. “The workplace environment can become toxic really fast otherwise.”

“Toxic?” Jon furrows his brows, offended at the implications. “Maybe I don’t talk to Martin much, but I would hardly call that toxic.”

“What about the way you berate him when he doesn’t do his ‘due diligence’?” Tim cuts in. “That’s toxic behavior if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Or the way that you not only give him the easiest tasks but tell him you’re doing so because that way he can’t mess things up?” Sasha tilts her head to the side, one brow raised in a challenge. “Or how you-”

Jon raises his hands in supplication and sighs. “Alright, alright, I get it. I need to be more pleasant to Martin. Now if that’s all, I’d very much like to get back to how we’re going to handle Ja-”

“No, no, you’re not getting off that easily.” Tim exchanges a look with Sasha, then, one that becomes far more mischievous than he likes. “You need to apologize.”

“What?” Both Jon and Martin respond in unison, eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before looking at Tim and Sasha in varying states of dismay. 

“He really doesn’t need to do that.” Martin leans forward and fervently shakes his head when the others look at him. “It’s, it’s fine, guys, okay? Just drop it.”

Is this how they all viewed him, back then? Jon’s brows furrow and his lips tilt down into a frown as he leans his palms onto the spare desk in front of him. He knew he’d treated Martin poorly, of course he did; he’d have to be either very stupid or very oblivious to not. “No, no,” he says in a softer and far more exhausted tone than he usually uses (mostly for the purpose of keeping up the ruse). “They’re… they’re right. I never have properly apologized for the way I treated you, Martin.”

Martin, for his part, freezes much like a deer caught in headlights. “I - uh. Jon, this maybe isn’t the time?” 

For the first time since walking into the assistant’s area, Jon looks straight at Martin. It’s probably a mistake, one he’s not entirely certain they’ll recover from because he can feel the way his expression softens even as Martin’s shifts to a visible panic. “There’s never going to be a ‘right time,’ I don’t think. I’m sorry, Martin. I truly am. I will do better from here on out.”

The silence that follows is loud, lasting what feels like an eternity before being cut through with a low whistle. “That was a lot more genuine than I expected,” Tim says, gaze flicking between the two with a growing curiosity. “Hey, have you two ever considered-”

“That’ll be quite enough of that, thank you,” Jon interrupts, breaking eye contact with Martin and shuffling his papers unnecessarily. “Back to the topic at hand-”

[keymintt]

Not sure if this has been asked before but, how did you start doing professional work for traffic cabinets? Was there some sort of job fair or exhibit that you advertised your art at and the city decides "this guy is really good, let's get his art in public"?

OKAY so the thing with public art is it's all local and every city kinda does it differently, but so far in my career all of the public art stuff i've done has been application-based

this got long so i'll go into details about what the searching/application process looks like under the cut but tldr: a big part of finding work like this is knowing where to look for local opportunities and submitting applications

generally the cities/towns/whatever will put out a call for artists (also sometimes called a request for qualifications or RFQ) that's basically like "hey we need some artists to do this, this is how much we'll pay you and the details for the project" and from there they'll link a form (or sometimes give you an email address) to apply to where you submit stuff like your contact info, resume/portfolio, sometimes references, and usually a letter of interest on the project

because i submit applications to things pretty regularly, i'm usually good about keeping track of what i use to apply to things—this includes what i've written for applications and stuff like image descriptions—so when I apply to new things it's a lot of copypasting and editing things to explain how i'm a fit for the specific project yadda yadda it's cover letters. it's basically cover letters. pain and agony

in terms of finding the applications, i'm signed up for several local newsletters and arts organizations, but i also check sites like the az commission of the arts (bc i'm az-based) for their updated list of opportunities pretty regularly, as well as searching for stuff like [city] arts and culture and poking around the .gov sites to see if they have an arts opportunities page. in all honesty a pretty big component of finding this work is knowing where to look, and unfortunately if you're doing public art a) it's not always listed on social media b) the best places to look/start are local, and that differs for everyone so i can't say like "oh look here and you'll find something"

once you apply it usually takes awhile to hear back (they usually give you a timeline on the initial application of how long it takes to review all the applications), but i've found people in these fields are good about letting you know when you didn't get something so you can move on with your life lol. atm i'm waiting to hear back from....over five things so i'm kind of always doing this "applying to projects while i'm working on other projects" song and dance which is honestly just...kind of the freelance artist experience?

i feel the need to mention that public art stuff like this consists of about...2/5 of my yearly income...? i'm not solely making a living off of doing these things bc i also usually have teaching and ttrpg illustration stuff in the mix BUT there are artists who can and do make a living off public art and murals and whatnot. i simply cannot resist the urge to stick my finger into any pie i'm even remotely qualified for

working with public art stuff is also that same thing with a lot of fields where once you get some sort of experience, it's easier to get more jobs, BUT as an artist your portfolio can do a lot of speaking for you, even if you don't have experience with public art specifically. take my traffic boxes for example: i've done three of them now and have a fourth lined up, i know that if there's an application for one i have the exact experience they're looking for and will in all likelihood be one of the selected artists at this point. however with my very first one, i obviously didn't have a traffic box in my portfolio so i included a digitally illustrated city banner i designed, several other digital illustrations of mine (bc they wanted a digital artist), and a mural i had painted on a 3d object (to demonstrate i could design with 3d forms in mind), and together these things all helped my credibility as someone who could do this project. as much as i loathe writing letters of interest these are also good places to elaborate on how your portfolio can connect to the project

also with public art starting local is also your best bet at first (not to say you can't land other opportunities right off the bat though), bc people like their artists to know the local scene. i have the experience to back me up more nowadays, but when i was first applying to things you bet your ass i was all like 'i love it here and want to give art back to my local community bc i'm an artist and i'm fresh out of college yaaaaayyyy' you don't have to mean this when you say it, but they don't have to know

thank you for the ask !! and best of luck with any of your potential artistic endeavors (to anyone reading this)!! feel free to ask any more questions, i'm happy to elaborate on anythin btw for anyone :>