#he felt like the environment was too stifling not only for his music but also his spirit so he left home as soon as he could

[wildflowercryptid]

potentially batshit headcanon, but i think it'd be funny if these two were related somehow.

[okayhaneul]

it’s yaya again and i'm back with another updated intro ! this time, it's my boi haneul's turn. hit me up on @xojinnie​​ if you have any questions or want to plot.

— welcome to infinite entertainment! it's CHOI HANEUL, who is the SECURITY of SOLOIST #1. i’ve heard whispers that the 29 year old is pretty DARING but lowkey BLUNT. also, doesn’t he remind you of KIM TAEHYUNG?

ABOUT — PINTEREST — PLOTS

UPBRINGING

haneul doesn’t really remember his birth parents — but his birth certificate had him listed as born on may 20th, 1995 in busan, south korea. at the age of three, he was left on the doorsteps of a gorgeous house in the seoungbuk district after his parents were no longer able to handle the financial and mental burden of being parents. he never heard from them again.

the wealthy owners of the house ( the choi family ) took him in. his mother struggled with pregnancies in the past, and the two were desperate for a son of their own. haneul being left on their doorstep was a perfectly timed opportunity that landed in their laps. within the first year, they adopted him.

however, haneul's position as the crowning jewel was short-lived. two years after he found his way to the chois, his mother got pregnant. she gave birth to haneul's adoptive brother and suddenly, he was no longer of much interest to them. as he got older, he felt like the black sheep of the family, like some glaring mistake in otherwise perfection. the conservative friends of his parents treated him like the ugly stepchild. and it didn't help that his parents constantly compared him to his brother, the biological pure son.

in response, haneul began to act out. being abandoned at such a young age had already scarred his psyche, and now being ignored and treated as less then only made the matters worse. it seemed like he didn't quite fit anywhere in this world and he was tired of trying. if the environment he grew up in was going to treat him like a misfit, then he might as well play the part.

haneul was considered a naturally intelligent child but growing up, he spent more time getting into trouble than actually focusing in school. fights, destruction of property, wild parties. . . acting out seemed to be the only way he didn't feel numb to his new situation. as he got older and more audacious, his parents became crueler and more withdrawn from him, unsure how to handle his unruly behavior. in their mind, this insolent outsider was making their lives living hell — so they were simply returning the favor.

the main thing that was a comfort to haneul during his childhood and teenage years was music. he loved listening to it, loved making it, loved performing to it. he listened to songs about anger, pain, and hurt and suddenly, it felt like there was someone out there who understood him. it became his form of escapism.

after reaching his wit’s end with being stifled by his supposed "family", a sixteen year old haneul tried his luck at an audition to become a trainee at infinite entertainment. he wasn’t the best there was but he had enough passion, mystery, and visual to make it in. no longer wanting to deal with him, his adoptive parents willingly agreed to let him move to seoul to train and were quick to disown the young man the moment he stepped out of the door with his bags.

TRAINEE YEARS AND DOWNFALL — drugs & alcohol tw

haneul just wanted to focus on the music. that was all that mattered to him. but upon becoming a trainee, he soon realized that he was giving up something he loved dearly: his freedom. there were so many restrictions. no drinking, no tattoos, no anything. it all became so suffocating and reminded him of the oppressed home he'd just left behind. with every rule added, he had a stronger desire to break them.

so, he did. he partied hard. he got tattoos in hidden places the staff couldn’t find. he snuck out every night. soon enough, haneul got the reputation as the trainee to "watch out for". he was known as being too careless, too arrogant, and too selfish. all that mattered to him was what he wanted. his desire to rebel quite frankly pissed off his potential future members. here they were, granted with an opportunity of a lifetime, and han was operating like a complete lost soul.

truth was, he simply didn’t know where he belonged. he knew it wasn’t with his family. he thought it would be here, surrounded by music. but it didn’t seem to matter where he was, han felt empty. and he was beginning to realize, maybe he didn’t belong anywhere. the realization was depressing as fuck. to cope with it, haneul partied way too hard one night and ended up having to be transported to the hospital after being found passed out by a peer.

after being treated for a non-fatal overdose, haneul was promptly kicked out of infinite as a trainee. he was nineteen at the time, eight months from debuting. since he would no longer debut and was in breach of his trainee contract, he now owed the company approximately 335 million won for the loss and for his expenses while being trained. infinite offered him a chance to work on the staff side of things. 50% of each of his paycheck would be returned to the company as repayment until the debt was paid. essentially, the offer was for haneul to do a shit ton of labor at a very minimum wage.

haneul initially refused to swallow his pride. he told the company to go fuck itself and told them he’d find another way to pay them back. however, his now tainted reputation followed him around seoul. no other idol company wanted to take in a flight risk and even the regular every day jobs weren’t fond that he had a record. realizing he’d be royally screwed either way, haneul reluctantly agreed to the initial offer from infinite.

A CHANGE — drugs & alcohol tw

after losing something that was so important to him, haneul spiraled out of control at the start of his twenties. his new job with infinite involved a lot of unglamorous grunt work, which was overwhelming and exhausting. that paired with the stress of his debt made things hard for him mentally. despite the terrifying incident he experienced, the young man continued to turn to drugs and alcohol as a way to deal with the shitstorm that had become his life.

due to a mere random encounter, the darkness in his life offered a beacon of light in the form of kim seonhwa. they met on new year's eve at a party and there was a pretty immediate connection. the two began to date and eventually fell in love, experiencing a lot of firsts with one another. it could have been considered an ill match: the problem child and the darling idol. but the truth was, seonhwa saw haneul for exactly who he was. she never once tried to change him, and she never once judged. it was a feeling he'd been searching for ever since he was an angry, vulnerable kid. she inspired him to try and be better.

unfortunately, it didn't prove to be enough. haneul was truthfully far too unhealed to be in such a serious relationship. his reliance on substances and immense self-loathing hindered him from growing in the relationship. seonhwa was also getting more popular and far busier and the combination of issues led to things crumbling after a year and half together.

completely and utterly at rock bottom, haneul began to work out in his free time as a form of therapy. the adrenaline kept his mind off his dark thoughts. he took up activities like boxing, taekwondo, and swimming at the shitty (but free) recreation center next to his tiny apartment.

as time passed, he began to mature and reform his behavior. his wild, cocky tendencies tapered down into more brooding, sensible ones. he stopped turning to drugs and alcohol as a salve and instead, his vices became cigarettes, weed, and the thrill of a tattoo needle.

the biggest downside was that during his worst, haneul pushed everyone who cared about him away. so even though he was finally in the healing part of his journey, he didn't have many people to help him through the lows or share his wins with. he accepted that this was the consequences of his actions, though it didn't help with the self-loathing part of his personality. he didn't want to be alone. not really. but he tolerated the idea that maybe that was what he was meant to be.

infinite took notice of haneul's emotional and physical improvement and realized he would be better used on the security side of things. he was offered a promotion to become a bodyguard for the company's newest idol set to debut — fujiwara somi aka michelle.

initially, haneul and somi butted heads. in his mind, she was purposefully trying to make his job harder. the truth was though they hated to admit it, the two were quite similar — both blunt and liking things their way. it was no surprise they had a tumultuous start to their time together. however, with years came a better understanding of one another and now, haneul would do anything to protect her. she is the little sister he never knew he wanted. he takes his job very seriously and always treats it as a top priority.

shortly after turning twenty-five, haneul completed paying off his debt owed to infinite. the company, impressed with his loyalty and maturity over the years, offered him a full-time salary and promotion to become head of michelle's security. though he holds extremely resentful feelings towards infinite, he chose to accept the offer for the sake of continuing to work with somi.

while haneul has long redeemed himself in his professional life, his personal life remained a bit of a mess. ten years had gone by since he last spoke to his family. he never once committed to another serious romantic relationship, instead preferring flings that he could detach from easily. and his tendency to be a workaholic and isolate himself during his off hours meant that he didn't have many friends to turn to.

TOUR

the 2022 infinite world tour, however, forced him to confront the mistakes and people from his past. with nowhere to escape to but in a hotel that everyone shared, haneul had to learn to make amends and prove that he's better than he once was. the time on tour not only gave him a chance to rekindle a relationship with seonhwa and former friends of the past, but also ushered in the growth to open his heart to new things and people.

despite the long, excruciating nature of the tour, haneul ended things on a rather high note. he unintentionally established himself as the company's "dad slash big brother". as one of the oldest around, he ended up being a person that others could turn to for protection and blunt advice. and in return, he was taught that maybe he doesn’t want to be as alone as he’s made himself for years.

CURRENTLY

though tour is wrapped, haneul still continues his duties as head of michelle's security. the only thing different now is that he comes home to seonhwa at the end of the night. the two of them have recently moved in together and have adopted a puppy, who haneul loves.

now that he is in a far more evolved era in his personal life, haneul now turns that feeling of unsettledness towards the future of his career. being a bodyguard had never been his endgame, or even his plan to begin with. and he's struggling to figure out what he's actually passionate about. in the meantime though, he still dedicates himself to the task until he can figure out what's next for him.

TIDBITS

personality: daring, blunt, stoic, wary, protective, intense, sardonic, evasive, intelligent

aesthetics: messy curls, the scent of amber, cigarette butts, tattoo sleeves, bruised knuckles, black coffee, blazing eyes, sharp wit

is annoyingly always viral on twitter and tiktok for being michelle’s “hot bodyguard”

can speak five languages in varying levels of mastery, thanks to his former wealthy upbringing

can play the guitar and has an affinity for songwriting and producing, but hasn’t tapped into those skills ever since he left the idol industry

love language is acts of service ! will grumble about how fucking annoying the ask is but he’ll do it anyways

has approximately 25 tattoos

he’s got a heart, i promise. it’s just buried within a wary, introverted exterior to protect himself. but if you’re one of the chosen ones, you’ve got a grizzly bear dad at your service

FOR REFERENCE

personality overview

map of haneul's tattoos

more tidbits

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Nanami

We’ve never seen Hanse and Nanami in the same room before...I’m just saying, the chances of them being the same person are higher than 0...gender neutral reader and no content warnings for this :) 11.8k words

(s/n) = nanami’s screen name

Nanami Kento wasn’t what usually came to mind when one thought of Youtubers. He was a salaryman, wearing pristine suits and going to work at ungodly hours. He had a stern face and rarely spoke about himself unless asked, preferring to keep most conversations short and to the point.

But Nanami didn’t think of himself as a Youtuber. He liked to refer to himself as a home cook who just happened to make videos and post them to Youtube. He had amassed a good two million followers and he didn’t show his face or hands, not even speaking as he cooked.

All Nanami dreamed about when he was at work was coming home and filming his next project. As an avid foodie, he was constantly thinking up new recipes to make. At first, filming himself had been a way of documenting his skills and keeping track of recipes without having to write them down, but as time went on people seemed to become enthralled with him.

“It finally came.” Collecting the mail on an early Saturday, Nanami’s smile was hard to contain as he grabbed the box that was waiting for him. He’d put in an order almost a month ago for this item and as he speed walked back to his apartment, his heart thumped with joy at getting to use it.

“It’s beautiful.” Holding up the cat bread mold, Nanami was itching to get to his kitchen and put it to use. Grabbing his camera, he began to prep his filming space. He was lucky to have such a large east facing window that his dining table could sit in front of and get the perfect light for his videos.

Making sure everything was perfectly positioned, Nanami pressed record and started to add ingredients into his mixing bowl. It was perfectly silent in his apartment, the most ideal environment to film in. Nanami didn’t add any background music to his videos, preferring to let the natural acoustics of his actions shine through.

Waiting for the dough to proof, Nanami flicked through some comments on his Youtube videos. He didn’t really care about what people had to say about his content, he only did this for himself, but sometimes it was nice to see what other like-minded individuals had to say. And he’d be lying if he said the comments about how aesthetic his videos were didn’t make his ego swell a bit.

When the bread was done and popped out of the mold in a perfect cat head shape, Nanami had to bite his lip to stifle a pleased sigh as he turned the camera off. He’d made it a point not to reveal his identity, refusing to let even his whole hand be in a shot and he wasn’t about to let it slip now with a hint of his voice.

“Kento you’ve really outdone yourself.” Biting into a slice of toasted bread with strawberry jam, Nanami smiled fondly at his creation. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this moment for him, not even the sudden knock on his front door.

It was a good thing Nanami was so good at setting up and taking down his cameras and lights, he didn’t want to explain to whoever was on the other side what exactly he did in his free time.

“(Y/N), hello.” As soon as Nanami opened the door and saw you, his next door neighbor, a light blush painted his cheeks. You’d moved in about six months ago into the corner unit next to his and Nanami had been smitten ever since.

“Hi Nanami.” You seemed equally as bashful, waving with a few fingers before tucking your hands behind your back. Meeting his eye for a moment, you let out a nervous giggle. “I was wondering if you’d gotten any mail addressed to me? I was supposed to get a letter from my grandma but I think the mailman might have given it to you instead.”

“Let me check.” Nanami had been so preoccupied with his bread mold that he didn’t bother to check the other mail he’d gotten. Taking a step away from the door, he was about to go further into his apartment but stuttered to a stop. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.” Slowly stepping in and shutting the door, you rocked back and forth on your heels. Nanami was glad you couldn’t look him in the eye otherwise you would have seen the blooming blush going across his cheeks.

He’d wanted to invite you in for a cup of tea and a slice of cake when you first moved in but he wasn’t able to gather the courage and by the time he finally felt ready nearly four months had passed.

“I actually do have it, (Y/N).” Coming back into the lounge room with the letter in hand, he quickly spotted you standing by the dining table looking at the bread he made in awe.

“Oops, sorry Nanami, I didn’t mean to be nosy!” Shuffling back, you took one last look at the bread before turning away. “I just saw the cat shape and got curious!” Taking the letter from him, you looked like you wanted to say something more, but held your tongue. “Well, I’ll be go-”

“Would you like to have a piece?” Nanami blurted out, holding out a hand to stop you from walking away.

“Really, you’d let me have some?”

“Sit down, I’ll pour you some tea.” Pulling out a chair for you, Nanami disappeared into his kitchen and gripped the countertops tightly. A sense of accomplishment washed over him that nearly beat out the bread; he was finally getting to have tea with you.

“Nanami, this is amazing!” Taking a bite out of the jam covered bread, your brows rose high on your face. “You really made this?”

“Mhmm. I got the mold this morning.” Taking a sip of his own tea, Nanami had to fight the smile on his face from becoming too big at seeing you enjoy his creation. He never usually shared with other people, either eating it all himself or giving it to the elderly ladies down the hall that didn’t know how to use the internet.

“Do you bake all the time?” Scooting to the edge of your seat, you almost looked like a child with a hopeful gleam in your eyes.

“I do, I quite enjoy it.”

The conversation began to revolve around food that Nanami had made, his favorites and yours, and then to just general cooking. It felt good to talk about this side of his life with someone, especially you, and the both of you quickly lost track of time.

“I should get going, Nanami, I feel like I’ve taken up enough of your time.” An hour later, you were standing up from your seat. The bread had quickly dwindled as the conversation wore on and there were only a few slices left.

“I enjoyed our talk.” Letting a full smile grace his face now, Nanami walked you to the door. Bidding you a final farewell, as soon as the door closed Nanami leaned against it, pressing his forehead into the wood and letting out a deep sigh. “You did it, Kento.”

Patting himself on the back for several days, Nanami looked forward to the next time he could see you. You’d let slip that you really liked cookies, so the only thing on Nanami’s mind was getting the perfect cookie recipe and making a batch for you.

Over the course of the next week, Nanami made a new cookie every single day. He knew what flavors you liked but he also wanted to try and give you something new, impress you with his skills and see that pleased look come over your face once again.

He also filmed himself making the cookies as well, making sure the videos were the most aesthetic they could be. He didn’t know if you watched his videos and even if you did he wouldn’t want to know, but on the off chance you saw them, Nanami wanted you to love it.

Finding the perfect recipe after a lot of back and forth with himself, Nanami was ready to share a plate of cookies with you. Sliding out into the hall with the plate tightly clutched to his chest, he turned to your apartment.

Nanami was happy you lived in the corner unit, it felt like he got you all to himself despite only having one proper conversation with you. There weren’t other neighbors trying to steal your attention away; it was perfect.

Right as Nanami knocked on the door, a sharp scream came from inside your apartment and he nearly dropped the plate in shock.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay?” Knocking loudly, Nanami’s body spiked with adrenaline. There was silence on the other end, making him consider picking the lock or calling the building manager.

“N-nanami?” Your voice and body trembled as you opened the door. Quickly giving you a once over, Nanami was relieved to see no physical injuries on you.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you scream?” Eager to get the answer from you, Nanami leaned closer. Squirming a bit, you took a step back and opened the door for him to enter.

“Promise not to laugh, okay?” There was a slight pout in your lips as you spoke and Nanami almost cooed at you.

“I promise.”

“A spider came down from the ceiling and scared me.” Panning over to your lounge room, Nanami couldn’t see any spider. The only things he saw were your furniture and a PC setup off to one side.

“Where is it?” Following you to the desk, Nanami quirked a brow at how impressive the equipment looked. There were two monitors, an expensive looking microphone and a ring light that looked like one he owned.

“Right there!” Grabbing his arm, you flung yourself behind him and pointed at your desk. Right in the middle was a large spider, scurrying back and forth. Balancing the plate in one hand, he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly squished the bug.

“I got it for you.” Folding the cloth back up, Nanami let himself exhale. Having you cling to him had almost stopped him from being able to do anything and he needed all the focus he could get if he wanted to help you.

“You didn’t have to use that, I would have grabbed you a paper towel!”

“It’s alright, it probably would have gotten away if we had waited.”

“Wait!” Grabbing onto the handkerchief before Nanami could tuck it back into his pocket, you gave it a gentle tug. “Let me clean it for you at least.” Nodding, Nanami let it go with no resistance.

Trying not to be nosy, he didn’t dwell too long at your computer, opting instead to follow you to your kitchen. He was pretty sure he saw the title to one of his videos on an open tab and it filled his chest with a flutter.

“What’s on the plate, Nanami?” Your question broke him from his short daydream of talking about his videos with you.

“Huh?” Nanami completely forgot about the plate in his hands, having gotten wrapped up in his own thoughts. Feeling the weight of the plate come back into his consciousness, Nanami cleared his throat. “Oh I uh, I made some cookies for you.”

“You did?” Dropping his handkerchief into the sink, you fully turned to him. Leaning close to the plate, you let out a small hum. “What kind are they?”

“I tried a new recipe out, they’re choux au craquelin with salted caramel cream.” Watching you process the name in your head made Nanami grin. You probably had no idea what he had just said, evident as the dumb nod you gave him.

“Do they go well with tea?”

As Nanami sat at your kitchen table waiting for you to return with some tea, he couldn’t help but look over your whole apartment. It was a simple one bedroom like he had and your furniture suited what Nanami assumed was your taste nicely.

“I almost don’t want to eat one, they look too nice!” Back with some tea, you turned one of the cookies over in your hand.

“If you don’t eat them they’ll go bad.” Nanami teased lightly, taking a bite of one for himself. You let out a little peep and nodded quickly, taking a generous bite of the dessert.

“Nanami.” Gripping the edge of the table, your eyes were blown wide. “This is amazing, I love it!” Whenever Nanami got a compliment, usually from Gojo, he brushed it off and thought nothing of it. But to hear you say that you loved what he made and to see the smile on your face as you take another bite - it made Nanami’s brain overflow with dopamine, a fuzzy feeling tingling the tips of his fingers and warming his chest.

“You really do?” He unintentionally whispers, having to close his eyes lest he stare hearts right through you.

“Mhmm!” Taking a sip of your tea, you giggle a little to yourself. “I feel pretty special too, you made this whole plate just for me.”

You’re special to me, that’s why, Nanami thought in his head, biting the tip of his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. Looking over at your computer setup once more, Nanami decided to comment on that instead of feeding the blush going up the back of his neck.

“You have a pretty nice setup there, (Y/N). Do you make Youtube videos or something?” Leaning back in his chair, Nanami forced his body to relax and his stomach to loosen up. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, a sudden shy demeanor washing over you.

“I’m just trying it out, I wanted to see what streaming and stuff was like.”

“Really?” Nanami had to choose his next words wisely, not wanting to seem too excited. “What’s the name of your channel, I’ll follow you.”

“You will?” There was a hopeful lilt to your voice, yet your body language was still hesitant. “I don’t know, I might get too embarrassed knowing you’ll be watching me.” It was Nanami’s turn to join you in being shy. He made a noise in the back of his throat, quickly taking a sip of his tea to cover it up.

“D-don’t be. I want to support you, that’s what neighbors do.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Nanami slid it over to you. “Go ahead and pull up your channel, I’ll subscribe right now.”

As Nanami left your apartment, fifteen minutes later and with an empty plate tucked under his arm, he was thoroughly surprised to know you wanted to start a Youtube channel. He wanted to help you, give you some tips and ways to make the algorithm like you, but he wasn’t ready to give away his secret just yet.

Sitting at his desk that night with his laptop in front of him, Nanami pulled up your channel. Seeing your first video, aptly titled ‘introduction’, he clicked.

“Hi everyone watching.” You sounded and looked so timid sitting at your desk, wringing your hands in front of you and smoothing them out on the wood as soon as you realized what you were doing. “My name is (Y/N) and this is my channel.”

“Hi (Y/N).” Nanami answered back, snorting at his own silliness.

“I’m going to be posting videos of my life, like vlogs and stuff, but also fun cooking videos! I really admire so many people on Youtube that can cook, I want to try and recreate their recipes! I especially like this one, it’s my favorite channel.” A few different Youtube channels popped up on screen and right in the middle and the one you gestured to was Nanamis.

He didn’t hear the rest of the video where you talked about potential upload schedules and other facts about yourself. He didn’t even hear you say goodbye or notice that the screen had faded to black. All Nanami could think about was the fact that his channel was your favorite.

Watching the other few videos you’d posted, a couple short ones of you running errands or showing off some clothes, Nanami vowed to watch every single one of your videos. Despite being pretty active on Youtube, Nanami didn’t watch a lot of videos himself, but your channel was at the top of his list.

For the next month Nanami waited for you to post a cooking video and while he waited he put out a few videos with easier steps, things you could follow along with even if you had little to no cooking skills.

A ping on his phone on a Saturday night had him walking briskly to his computer. You finally posted a video of yourself cooking one of his recipes, a dish he had made for Itadori’s birthday: a strawberry crepe cake.

“Hi, welcome to my kitchen!” Nanami was immediately smitten within the first few seconds of the video. The apron you had on was cute and tied around your waist with a bow and there was a large container of strawberries just waiting to be used.

As the video went on, Nanami openly chuckled at the mistakes you made from being so nervous in front of the camera, like dropping the egg shells into the bowl and dumping too much flour in right after.

“I’m so nervous to flip the crepe over!” The camera was over your stove now where a crepe was slowly beginning to burn in the pan the longer you waited.

“Don’t be scared, you can do it.” Nanami whispered to the screen, biting his lip as you attempted to flip it over. Managing to do it right on the first try, you let out a loud yelp of victory.

“Oops, I better be quiet! It’s like 2am right now and my neighbor is sleeping!” Upon your admittance, Nanami suddenly remembers hearing a small shout late at night a few days ago that had woken him up for just a moment. “He actually said he’d watch all my videos, so sorry if I woke you up!” Crossing your fingers in front of the camera, you went back to talking about the cooking.

Nanami felt special that you mentioned him in a video and now he wished he was awake to try your cake. You put way more strawberries than he did on it, and your whipped cream application was a lot messier and spilled down the sides but that only made him want to try it more.

“Okay, I’m all done! Let’s put a picture side by side and see how I did.” Holding up a photo of Nanami’s cake, you whined a little at seeing such stark differences. “Well mine isn’t perfectly aesthetic, but I bet it’ll still taste good!”

Was it rational to be annoyed with himself for not being awake at 2am on a Wednesday night to eat a strawberry crepe cake with you? No it wasn’t, but Nanami still felt it. He would have to tell you to cook at a more reasonable time the next opportunity he got to talk to you so he could try your food.

Deciding to do just that, Nanami grabbed his phone and called you. He managed to give you his number after subscribing to your Youtube channel, stating that if you ever needed help cooking you could ask him.

“Hello?” He could almost hear you on the other side of the wall.

“(Y/N), it’s Nanami Kento. From next door.” How many other Nanami Kento’s could you possibly know? Not a lot, he was hoping. You laughed on the other end and he could definitely hear it through the wall.

“Hi neighbor. What’s up?”

“I watched your Youtube video.”

“Y-you saw it?!” You made a noise in the back of your throat and a soft whine followed. “God I feel so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, I told you I’d watch your videos and support you.”

“I know, I just- you didn’t have to call me and say it.”

“I don’t like texting.” Nanami smirked, he could just imagine your face right now hidden under your palm.

“Well, what did you think of it?”

“I liked it, you did really well on the cake. But I do have one complaint.”

“What is it?” You gasped loudly, nearly dropping the phone as you wondered what he could possibly have to say.

“I just wish you’d made it when I was awake, I would have loved to try it.” There was a long pause between you and Nanami could hear you flop onto your couch.

“Really? You would try it?” Nanami let out a short hum of approval. “Let me get some more strawberries then.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it made his own lips tug upward.

Ending the call shortly after, Nanami thought about your conversation while he was filming his own video. Gojo had given him a box of fresh peaches as a gift from his recent vacation and Nanami had his heart set on making a peach tart.

Replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, Nanami wasn’t as careful as he usually was about concealing his identity. He couldn’t find it in him to put on gloves to cover his hands when all he was really thinking about was having cake with you from a recipe he had made himself.

When he was editing, he almost threw out the whole video. There were many segments where his hands were on full display and one where part of his arm poked into the frame as well. But the rest of the video was too perfect to completely toss out and unable to cut out the scenes of his hands, Nanami posted it anyway with a dying hope that his viewers wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

Waking up the day after posting the video however, Nanami was sorely mistaken. He was used to videos going viral and trending for several days, some even getting articles written about them. But going viral for his hands wasn’t something Nanami thought was possible.

The video alone had gotten upwards of 5 million views in just a day and was still steadily climbing. Despite going on all his social media accounts and muting every single word that could possibly have anything to do with him, Nanami still ended up seeing videos and pictures of his own hands on Twitter, with an article about him breaking the internet as well.

And one of the videos he saw had your face in it. Captioned ‘tiktokers reacting to hand reveal’, he felt the need to click on it. What did you think of him?

“So I’ve seen the headlines but I saved my reaction so I could get it on camera.” You spoke hurriedly, wrapped up in a hoodie and blanket as you sat down on the couch, the camera on a tripod across from you. “Time to see the video.”

Nanami waited with bated breath as he watched you watch his video. There were some obvious cuts in the video from where you skipped forward, and right as his hands came on screen your jaw dropped.

“I- I uh-” You were clearly very flustered, slapping a hand over your face and turning away from the screen. “Why is my face burning over some hands?” Laughing in disbelief, you watched the rest of the video and let out a girlish squeal before cutting it off.

Nanami wasn’t proud to admit that he watched your reaction more than a few times, finding an odd sense of pride take shape inside him. You didn’t even know it was him behind the camera yet he was able to leave such a profound impression on you.

With a new and growing fanbase eating up every single thing he posted now, Nanami found it hard to live in anonymity like he used to. Gone were the days of quietly replying or liking comments on his Youtube channel, he now had thousands of comments on all platforms asking to see more of his hands or for him to possibly speak in his next video.

He was eager to know what your opinion on him was now, what you thought of his online persona. You were still making videos of his cooking, your channel having gotten a boost in subscribers from your reaction video, and you sometimes mentioned his channel name.

On a quiet Saturday at half past noon, Nanami found himself lounging lazily on his sofa with his hair still undone and coffee stains on his sweats. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so lax so late into the day but it was also uncharacteristic of him to stay up past 1am watching the silly little livestream you were doing in your kitchen with muffled giggles he could hear coming through the wall.

Staring at the ceiling and drifting in and out of sleep as the TV filled the silence in the room, Nanami almost missed the subtle vibration of his phone against the coffee table if there hadn’t been a lull in the TV.

(Y/N): hey neighbor are you busy?

The message from you had him suddenly alert and focused, sitting straight up and planting both feet on the floor.

(Nanami): no, I’m not

(Y/N): then…

(Y/N): do you think you’d wanna come over and help me bake something? I’m doing my first Youtube collab and I’m so nervous

(Nanami): I’ll be over in five.

He didn’t even wait for your response before leaping from the couch and bolting to his bedroom. Nanami got dressed and ready in record time, splashing plenty of cold water on his face to wake him up even further before slicking his hair back and doing one last check in the mirror before rushing to the front door.

“(Y/N).” He was knocking on your door exactly five minutes after texting you.

“Nanami!” You opened the door with a smile, a light colored tied around your waist that was stained from previous use. “Come on in!” Ushering him across the threshold, you made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

“So, you’re doing your first collab, huh?” Following slowly behind you, Nanami thought of all the emails sitting in his inbox from brands and other content creators alike asking him to promote their product or work on a video together. He ignored them all in favor of anonymity, but if you were to message him about it, he would answer in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, I joined a discord server full of other cooking Youtubers and some of them asked me to collab with them!” The smile on your face was beaming and the excitement in your voice made Nanami’s heart swell with pride.

“Well then, let’s get started.” Grabbing the spare apron you handed him, Nanami panned over the scene before him. Your kitchen wasn’t a total mess yet, the counters were still relatively clear with just a few bowls out and measuring spoons just waiting to be used. “What’re we making?”

“Ha, well…” Scratching your cheek bashfully, you shrugged your shoulders and looked around your kitchen. “That’s where you come in, I have no idea what to make.​​” Letting out a soft chuckle under his breath, Nanami nodded to himself and took a step toward the cabinets.

“What are the others making?” He asked while idly sifting through the ingredients you had.

“Take a look.” Showing him your phone, you swiped through the messages between all of you. There were multiple different desserts being made, recipe ideas being thrown around, all with a specific theme.

“So, you chose the colors of the rainbow?” Nanami skimmed over the messages where you decided colors and it seems you’d been chosen to do blue. He’d just seen someone else who got red go with a strawberry cheesecake with swirls of deep red mixed in with lighter pink.

“Do you know any desserts that are blue, cause I don’t.” Throwing your head back with a whine, you stared at the ceiling and let Nanami get back to digging through your cabinets.

“What about a blue surf cake?”

“A what?” You parroted, and your owlish blink made Nanami’s lips curl up in a soft smile.

“It’s a blue cheesecake that looks like ocean waves, I’ve made it a few times before and you don’t need to bake it.” He’d actually filmed a video on it about a year ago and it was one of his most proud creations. Quickly typing it into your phone, you pulled up his video within seconds.

“Oh thank god he made one.” Sighing in relief, you watched Nanami’s video with rapt interest. “This is perfect! But I don’t have this stuff, this butterfly tea powder.”

“I do.” He’d overbought for that video and had been stuck with the stuff for ages. Turning on his heel, he mumbled something unintelligible before leaving your apartment and reappearing in less than two minutes.

“You’re just giving this to me?” Raising your brows high in shock, you took the relatively full package from Nanami’s hands and opened it, a small cloud of blue powder puffing out upon its release.

“Yes, I want you to do well on this collab.” Turning away from you, Nanami began to grab the necessary ingredients from your shelves.

“Nanami.” Your voice was a bit low and when he turned around your bottom lip was jutted out into a pout.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re the best neighbor ever!” Clutching the powder tightly against your chest with one arm, you raise the other one and rest your hand on his shoulder. “Whenever you need help or want some tea and cookies, just ask me and I’ll do it!” You were eternally grateful and Nanami could feel the sincerity in your words and the warmth of your hand melting into his skin.

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer, so don’t take it back.”

“Never!” You shook your head, clutching his shoulder tightly. “Now let’s make the best damn blue cake ever!”

Standing off to the side, Nanami watched you film your introduction. He felt almost awkward seeing you talk to the camera and talk animatedly about what you were going to make when his own introductions were quiet and calm, slowly panning across his work space and showing what he would be making with captions dotting the screen.

“I also have a friend helping me make this cake, would you like to wave hello?” You glanced at Nanami, fully expecting him to reject your offer but he surprised you by lifting a hand into frame and giving a very brief wave. A little giggle left your lips and you gave him a thumbs up, turning back to the camera. “He’s really good at baking, so with his help hopefully this cake won’t turn out to be a huge disaster.” Laughing to yourself, you waited a few seconds before turning the camera off.

“Give yourself more credit, (Y/N), you’re good at baking too. I bet you won’t even need me.” Going over the ingredients list one last time, Nanami recounted your videos and couldn’t fight a small smirk on his lips. You’d certainly improved but to call you good was a bit of an exaggeration.

“You’re right!” But you were bolstered by his words nonetheless and your chest puffed up with confidence. “I can do this no problem!”

Maybe it was because he was there, or maybe it was because the words he’d said to you before starting had jinxed it, but Nanami was sure any skills you’d learned had regressed severely.

From the first step to the last, there was a fumble on your part. Adding too many ingredients that didn’t need to be there, adding too little of what the recipe actually called for, snacking on the pieces for the crust of the cake and choking on camera from accidentally inhaling a piece - it was almost as if you were trying to appear inept at even the most basic of kitchen duties.

“It took us so long to get here but we can finally add the filling in!” What took Nanami barely 25 minutes had taken you almost an hour to complete. Your apron and fingers were smudged with blue powder and the kitchen was in noticeably more disarray than when you started, clear proof of the trials and tribulations you went through. Silently cheering you on from behind the camera, Nanami held his breath and watched you pour the mixture into its final pan. “Now time to pop it into the freezer and wait for it to set!”

“Time to start cleaning up.” Nanami mumbled to himself as you turned the camera off. Your cooking style was much different than his, pots and pans carelessly thrown into the sink and dirty utensils left on the counter were not things he was used to seeing.

“Do we have to?” You whined as you set the cake in the freezer.

“Will you clean up after I leave?” He quirked a brow at you, a slow smile coming to his face as you groaned and shook your head.

“Alright fine, we can clean up now.” Nanami was already rolling up his sleeves before you could start to speak and your sulky tone made a chuckle come out of him. Flicking on the sink and filling it with water, he could see you gather dishes out of the corner of his eye. It was quiet in the kitchen now without you narrating your actions for the video and Nanami welcomed the silence, it gave him a chance to think about what to say to you next.

“Really, thank you for helping me.” Coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him at the sink, you let your arm rest snugly next to his as you started to help wash the dishes.

“You’re welcome.” Shifting just the tiniest bit closer, Nanami scrubbed away in silence. Without the constant action and ever present camera turned off, the scene between the two of you could almost be described as domestic, as if the two of you had just gotten done cooking for yourselves and not a Youtube video and now were in comfortable quiet as you cleaned up the aftermath.

“I should think about what to make for dinner, all that filming made me hungry.” The adrenaline from the collab was still high inside you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you washed off a sudsy dish.

“What are you in the mood for?” Nanami was either stupidly brave or just plain stupid for leaning into this domestic feeling by asking you that question. He could be crossing a line by trying to imply he wanted to eat with you, essentially overstaying his welcome now that he was no longer needed.

“I kind of want pasta, what about you?” Glancing up at him, you were glad he wanted to stay longer and the proof was felt on the tingling warmth prickling your entire body.

“Pasta sounds good. Red or white sauce?”

“Red. I have a great wine to pair it with.”

“You’re into wine?”

“Not really.” You giggled shyly. “I wanted to start a series where I pair different foods with wines but I got too drunk trying to film the first episode.”

“I would love to see that video, (Y/N).” Nanami snorted loudly, a smirk on his lips as he dried his hands.

“We’ll have to have a private screening then.” Playfully bumping your shoulders together, you followed suit and dried your hands.

“Yes, yes we will.”

Twenty minutes later and dinner was prepared and served, both you and Nanami sitting at your dining table with full glasses of beautiful red wine with the bottle sitting not too far off in case you needed more. Eating quietly and making lively conversation, the wine in your glasses never seemed to dip, always being topped up until the bottle was empty and you were shuffling to grab another bottle.

“(Y/N), how much wine do you have?” Nanami chuckled, a drunken blush coating his cheeks as he watched you open your fridge. He could just barely see the bottom of a few bottles from his position at the table.

“Y-you don’t wanna know!” You laughed far too loudly for the situation and slammed the door closed, handing Nanami the bottle as you collapsed in your seat.

“Well, cheers.” Opening the new bottle and topping off your glasses, Nanami held his up and clinked it with yours when you held it up. Letting the liquid drip down his throat, Nanami looked over at you from over the rim of his glass. You were already cute in his eyes, downright adorable even, but to see you giggly and drunk with him made his heart swell even more.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Whining slightly, you held your glass up in front of your face while your own face burned horribly.

“Like what?” He chuckled in return, mimicking your gesture.

“Like- like- you know!” Waving a hand around, you turned away from him slightly and took a generous sip of wine. Silence hung between you briefly, words left unsaid on the tips of both your tongues yet the fear of possible rejection - or even worse, regret - permeated your drunken minds.

“I’m just having a good time, (Y/N), is that a crime?” Leaning back in his seat, Nanami laughed to himself. He was definitely embarrassed from being caught looking at you like a fool in love but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“You like having dinner with me?” Quirking up a hopeful brow, you rest your elbows on the table and shimmy just a tad bit closer. Your knees brushed under the table and the feeling drew you closer with Nanami pulling his chair in just so he could stretch his legs out and feel your feet begin to tangle together.

“I do, a lot.” It surely beat eating dinner alone for the thousandth time this year. The conversation quickly died down with both of you just silently looking at each other with a half lidded gaze, drunken smiles pushing your cheeks up without you even noticing it.

Soon the food ran cold and the second bottle of wine was emptied and you had to separate to take care of the dishes. Pushing Nanami towards the living room, you made him promise to go sit on the couch while you set the plates in the sink and put away the leftovers.

“Nanami, I have some ice cream if you-” Slightly stumbling out into the living room with a pint of chocolate ice cream, you stopped short upon finding Nanami dozing away on the couch with his body fully stretched out and relaxed.

Going up to the back of the couch, you leaned over it and close to his face, taking in every miniscule detail and pore that you could. Nanami was always so poised around you that it was a rare treat for him to relax like this, especially enough to go to sleep on your couch.

“Nanami…Nanami…” You whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. The action earned you a tired grunt in response and Nanami pushing your hand away and turning further into the couch. Shaking his shoulder again, you giggled when he swatted you away.

Returning the ice cream to the freezer, you grabbed a spare blanket and pillow, nearly dropping them both as you stumbled through your apartment. Throwing the blanket over his body haphazardly, you gingerly grabbed his head and put the pillow underneath it.

“Good night, Kento.” Whispering above his sleeping body, you felt butterflies in your stomach looking at him. You tried to stamp down the crush you had on him, reasoning with yourself that a man this serious and composed would never go for someone like you, but it never worked. You found yourself daydreaming about him constantly when you should have been working, fantasizing about having him join you for a meal or perhaps an outing to the city.

Taking one last look at his sleeping form, you drug yourself away to your bedroom to get some sleep of your own. The knowledge that Nanami was just a few feet away in the living room while you lay in your bed kept you up, nervous fits of giggles erupting from you as your imagination wandered.

Waking up some time later with a pounding headache and early morning light coming through your open curtains, you listened for any sound of Nanami still in your apartment. Taking a brief glance at the time, you expected him to have crawled home by now and be nursing his hangover with a cup of coffee.

Heaving yourself out of bed, you walked as quickly as possible to the bathroom and fumbled in the drawers for some painkillers. Downing a couple with no hesitation, you splashed some cool water on your face before finishing up and leaving the room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Your voice was terribly quiet as your eyes landed on Nanami who was still fast asleep on the couch, completely disheveled with his shirt hiked up to reveal the relaxed muscles of his abdomen. Even deep in sleep he still had prominent abs with the dusting of a light happy trail below his belly button.

Reaching out in a trance, you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, just barely grazing his scalp with your nails. Repeating the motion several times, you worked out any knots he may have gotten during the night and further mussed the tresses.

“Feels good.” Nanami grumbled with his eyes still tightly closed. His voice was impossibly low and groggy as he twisted and turned on the couch. Your fingers went to scratch at his scalp when Nanami’s twisting earned him a tumble right to the ground and a surprised shout sounded upon contact.

“You okay?” Leaning over the couch, you gripped the cushioned backing tightly.

“F-fine, I’m-” Clearing his throat and trying to grab his bearings, Nanami ripped the blanket off him and sat up in a huff. “I’m fine.” As he spoke, he winced, clutching at his head.

“Hungover?” You asked with a small grin. Holding up a finger as he nodded, you made your way to the bathroom to grab the painkiller. “Come grab some water.” Motioning to the dining table, your grin got wider watching him struggle to stand.

“Do you have any coffee?”

Ten minutes later, Nanami was sunk into a dining chair with his forehead plastered to the table. He couldn’t even feel any regret for overstaying his welcome and getting too drunk to go home, all he could feel was a sick churning in his stomach and a throbbing in his head. The coffee had done a good job of waking him up, prompting him to fix his clothes and hair as best he could given the circumstance.

“Here you go.” Setting a plate down in front of him, you tried not to groan as you sat down yourself. Peeling his face off the table, Nanami never thought he could be this happy to see a plate of food.

Barely grunting out a word of thanks, he grabbed his utensils and started eating. His pained stomach slowly subsided, the warm food doing a good job at chasing away any lingering sickness in the back of his throat. It was only when his plate was empty did he realize he hadn’t spoken a single word to you.

“Thank you for the food.” Taking a gulp of coffee, he looked over at your own plate and realized he was still hungry.

“There’s more in the kitchen.” Flicking your chin in that direction, you slowly sipped your own drink as Nanami left to grab more food.

“I’m sorry.” He said once his second plate was empty and he’d already gotten another cup of coffee.

“For what?”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. By a lot.” Grimacing as he looked at the time, he could just imagine the way you were feeling. Had you been able to sleep comfortably last night knowing he was here? You probably locked the door to your bedroom just to be safe, telling all your friends that your neighbor was drunk and passed out on your couch.

“Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind. It’s just like a sleepover.” Finishing the food on your plate, you pushed it away and leaned your head against the back of the chair. It was quiet for a moment with Nanami idly watching you breathe, and then you spoke again. “Do you think the cake is ready?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” Letting out a snort, you peeked at Nanami from the corner of your eye and laughed a bit more at his bewildered expression. “The cake we made yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah.” Letting out a rough exhale, Nanami shook his head to clear his thoughts. How could he forget the entire reason he’d come over in the first place? Did the alcohol really have that much of an affect on him?

“It looks set, what do you think?” Gingerly placing the cake tin on the table, you worried your lip as you looked over the cake for any imperfections. It looked perfect in the pan but who knew what would happen when you tried to remove it.

“Well don’t keep me waiting.” Reaching over the table to take the cake out himself, Nanami yelped when you smacked him away.

“No, don’t! What if it all oozes out onto the table?”

“We won’t know until we find out.” He wanted to reach out again but hesitated as he saw the twitch of your hand. “It won’t ooze all out, (Y/N), the cake is perfect.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your fingers curled around the tin; you wanted to believe him but knowing your luck it would end in disaster. But the longer you looked between him and the cake, the more you felt the pressure.

“I know because you made it. You’re a good baker, (Y/N).” Finishing the last sip of his coffee, Nanami pointed a finger at you. “Now either you take the cake out or I will.”

“Fine!” With trembling fingers you pushed the cake up from the bottom, painstakingly watching for any possible defects as it emerged.

“See, I told you it was perfect.” Nanami couldn’t help but feel smug at being right. The cake was picture perfect, not a lump or bump or empty spot in sight. The sigh of relief you let out was loud and completely deflated your chest.

“Thank god.” Setting the cake back in the tin, you stared at it from above, disbelief washing over you. “I can’t believe I really did it.” Laughing breathlessly, you straightened yourself up and glanced at your camera. “Guess I should start filming the reveal.”

“I think I’ll be going now.” Pushing himself up from his chair, Nanami gathered the dishes on the table and set them in the sink, ignoring the urge to stay even longer. He had to shower and change clothes, gather his composure and prepare himself for the work week ahead.

“It was nice having you over.” You mumbled, pushing in the chairs and slowly leading him to the front door. Neither of you really wanted this time together to end but it had to be done eventually. Gripping the doorknob, there was a slight delay before you opened the door.

“(Y/N)...” Drawing out your name, Nanami’s feet were stuck in place. Looking into your eyes, the longer he stared the less he wanted to step out into the hallway and back into reality. Digging his fingers into the doorframe, Nanami let his eyes begin to close softly, his vision turning slightly hazy as he aimed for your lips.

Time was moving too fast and too slow. With the sudden approach of Nanami, it was something you’d dreamed about for a long while, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. But the open setting of where you two were, the sudden slamming door down the hall and noises filtering in from the outside world withdrew you from the moment you’d wanted for so long.

“O-oh.” You hadn’t even realized you’d put your hand up to stop Nanami from coming closer until he made contact. Both of you looked down at your hand in confusion and you turned red for different reasons.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll see you later.” Cutting you off, Nanami kept his head down to try and save face, save himself from you seeing how utterly mortified he was at getting rejected. Taking a generous step into the hall, he made a beeline back to his apartment.

Unable to say much beyond a dejected and nearly silent goodbye, you closed your door shortly after Nanami closed his. Both of you leaned against the respective frames, Nanami cursing himself for being so forward and making you uncomfortable, and you beating yourself up for stopping him in the first place.

It only took a day for you to finish the video and upload it, adding your traditional flair and special touches that made Nanami smile every time he saw them. Trying to ignore the way you two had parted, he focused intensely on the video and every time there was a cut or jump in he recounted exactly what had happened in that moment that made you cut the clip out, be it choking on some crust or dropping the entire mixing bowl on the floor.

“I’m just feeling burnt out from all this social media stuff, I might take a break from cooking for a little while.” That was the last thing Nanami wanted to hear towards the end of one of your monthly vlogs. He’d noticed a slight downtrend in your content output shortly after you posted the collab video and while he hadn’t spoken to you since that fateful night, he hadn’t gotten any hints that you were feeling this way.

“I’ll still be active here and there, I have some other things already filmed and ready to be uploaded and some sponsored stuff for my Instagram but I just…” The heavy sigh you let out as you tried to find the words to articulate your feelings made Nanami frown. Watching the rest of the video with a heavy heart, he took a glance at the time.

“Let me make something to cheer them up.” He mumbled to himself. Yes it was nearing his usual bedtime and he was typically very strict about adhering to the schedule, but you needed him; or at least Nanami hoped you needed him in some way to make you feel better.

Burrowing around in his cupboards, he grabbed random ingredients and placed them on the counter. When Nanami wanted to make something, especially a baked good, he always had a plan on what he wanted to make. But now he was going off the cuff, coming up with a recipe on the fly and hoping it worked. He also grabbed his filming equipment and set it up, hoping that even if the recipe didn’t turn out well you would still find enjoyment in his videos.

It took him nearly two hours to make a chocolate souffle and he didn’t regret a single second of it. His whole apartment was warm and smelled of chocolate, steam rising and blurring the lense of the camera as he presented them. Taking a deep breath that turned into a loud yawn, Nanani felt proud of himself for completing the recipe even if it was an ungodly hour.

He was nearly a zombie by the time he put everything away and uploaded the footage to his computer but he couldn’t find it in him to go to bed just yet. He wanted to edit and upload the video as soon as possible so that you could have something to watch to take your mind off the hard time you were having.

The rising sun was Nanami’s indicator that he’d been up all night without even ten minutes of sleep, but he could proudly say he pulled his first all nighter for Youtube and finished the video right as his alarm went off. Posting it immediately, Nanami rushed around to gather his things and head out the door before he missed his usual train.

Dragging his feet throughout the day, he collapsed on the couch the moment he stepped through the door. He tried to keep up with his work while also checking to see if you’d liked the video or maybe commented but there was nothing from you, not even a cheeky little post on Twitter or your Instagram stories.

Running a dejected hand through his hair, Nanami pulled himself up from the couch and to the kitchen. Thankfully he was meticulous about being clean so there was no mess from last night waiting for him, easing his mind at least a little bit. Making a quick dinner, he ate over the kitchen sink as he thought of what to do next.

It only took a few seconds for him to decide to make another video at that very moment. Shoving the rest of his food in his mouth, Nanami turned to his cupboards once again, quickly deciding to make cookies as his hand landed on a box of chocolate. Ignoring the souffle sitting patiently in the fridge, Nanami set to work making another dish for you with no plan in the foreseeable future of actually giving you any of them.

This habit repeated until the end of the work week when Nanami had quite literally passed out on his couch after the repeated all nighters. None of his videos seemed to have the impact he wanted them to. You didn’t like or comment, your social media posts were either retweets or sponsored content and you hadn’t posted a new video in a while. He could hear you in your apartment sometimes, talking to yourself or playing music and singing along, so he knew you hadn’t run away.

Waking up in a haze well after the sunset, Nanami felt at his wits end. He was doing everything he could to get you to cheer up without having to face you directly and it wasn’t working. He had a fridge full of desserts he was going to give you at some point and a horde of videos up on his channel you could watch but he needed to do something more.

(S/N): hey, I hope you feel better soon

As Nanami prepared for a shower, he wasn’t in his right mind to care about the fact that he’d just messaged you on Twitter instead of through text like he originally meant. Talking to you through his online persona wasn’t something he really wanted to do but he couldn’t turn back now.

Taking a long hot shower, Nanami forgot about the message he sent you, too wrapped up in finally getting to unwind. Doing his nighttime routine and burrowing into bed, he checked his phone one last time.

(Y/N): hearing my idol say this has made my day so much better, thank you so much T_T

“Your idol?” Nanami chuckled to himself, a light blush coming over his face as he sunk into his pillows.

(S/N): you’re welcome. If you ever want to chat about how you’re feeling or anything, I’m open to listen.

Pushing through sleep to send that final message, Nanami tossed his phone onto his bedside table and promptly went to sleep with a small smile on his face.

Generously oversleeping, Nanami woke up in an overheated, messy pile of blankets. Thankful for the weekend, he took his time coming to his senses and getting out of bed. His hand automatically drifted to his phone, tired mind eager to see if you had responded.

(Y/N): I would definitely love to chat!

(S/N): you called me your idol, I take it you’ve been watching my videos for a while?

Nanami had to ask, he needed to know just how much you liked his content. He didn’t have to wait long for a response, just as he poured his first cup of coffee his phone went off.

(Y/N): I’ve been watching your videos since you first started posting!! Your content is the number one reason I started my own channel

(S/N): I’m really touched, I’m glad I could be such a big inspiration for you

(Y/N): you really are! I admire you so much, you’re so serious about your craft

(Y/N): especially the fact that you put out a new video every day this week! I want to be as dedicated as you someday

While your statement bolstered his confidence greatly, it also put a heavy weight on Nanami’s shoulders. As you chatted more and more, Nanami felt the urge to go and make something else to keep the trend of uploading daily. There was a possibility that you were going to start posting again, you’d said so yourself, and Nanami wanted to make it a reality.

Ignoring the food in his fridge and on the counters that still needed to go to you or be eaten, Nanami pushed himself to film two videos that day. It was hard to make sure everything was perfect twice over but he managed and by the end of the day he was sitting at his computer eating flan and editing the videos.

Taking advantage of the weekend, Nanami pulled another all-nighter and filmed as many videos as he could. He ran himself completely ragged between filming, cooking and making sure to message you back consistently. Your conversation progressed naturally, flowing from one topic to another as if you were speaking face to face with each other. Nanami felt the urge to tell you it was him, that your idol was actually your neighbor, but the memory of your rejection still stung and he held off. You probably wouldn’t like him anymore if you learned the truth, so for now he was going to hold off.

By the time Monday rolled around and his alarm went off in the morning, Nanami had gotten a solid two hours of sleep and was nursing a growing headache. Somehow he managed to edit all the videos he filmed, putting them in a little queue to be uploaded everyday while he struggled through the work week.

Zoning in and out for the whole day, it was a miracle that he managed to come home in one piece. Nanami didn’t remember stepping into his office building let alone getting on the train home. Lacking the strength to even eat a proper meal, he stripped down to his underwear and slept on top of his blankets while running a high fever.

Waking up throughout the night in a cold sweat, Nanami knew when he woke up to the sound of his alarm that he couldn’t go to work. With a heavy head and runny nose, just looking in the mirror made him cringe.

“I look like shit.” His voice was gravelly and thick and he had to clear his throat several times after speaking. Leaving a quick message for his boss, Nanami splashed cold water on his face and went back to bed.

The next two days melted into each other and there were several instances where Nanami went into a coughing fit and was sure you could hear through the walls. With only enough strength to feed himself soup and cough medicine, Nanami was left to suffer alone. He heard notifications on his phone go off and every once in a while he would respond to something you sent but for the most part he was dead to the world.

A knock at the door roused him from a deep slumber in the middle of the day, sweating under a pile of blankets but too cold to take them off. He tried to ignore it at first, but the sound refused to stop and through his muddled brain Nanami was sure he could hear your voice.

“C-coming!” Grunting loudly, Nanami’s usually quiet footsteps thumped against the floor. Passing a mirror in the hall, he was glad he at least had an acceptable top and bottom on before he opened the door. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, Nanami sniffled loudly as he made eye contact with you and drifted downwards to the stack of mail in your hand.

“I uh, I have your mail.” Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you didn’t know where to look. This was the first time you were seeing each other in two months and Nanami hated that he looked and felt absolutely awful. “Nanami? Are you okay?” The concern on your face was outweighing the awkwardness in the air.

“Not really.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly. “I feel like shit.” His brazen statement made you snort. Taking the mail from your outstretched hand, he was about to thank you when you suddenly spoke.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes scanned his face and the bad dark circles under his eyes.

“No.” Answering truthfully, Nanami didn’t protest when you made the move to enter his apartment, not that he would have stopped you in the first place.

“Let me make you something, you need to eat properly if you want to get better!” Slapping his mail on the dining table, you pointed to the couch. “Go sit down and relax.” Turning on your heel as soon as you finished speaking, you dug around in the kitchen for something to cook. Dragging his feet, Nanami grabbed a small blanket from his bedroom before returning to the living room and taking residence on the couch like you asked.

“I haven’t- haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while.” Coughing loudly, Nanami ran a hand through his hair. He could hear you rummaging through the fridge and making little noises in the back of your throat.

“There sure is a lot of moldy desserts in here.” Looking over his shoulder and into the kitchen, Nanami chuckled watching you pull out some of the desserts he’d filmed and throw them away. They were unrecognizable from when he first made them, all of them having gone bad and disintegrating in their containers. It was a shame he didn’t get a chance to eat most of them, but he was so caught up in filming as much as possible that the thought of having all the leftover food to deal with didn’t cross his mind.

“Hey, how about we order takeout?” Running hot water over a dish that used to have chocolate cake in it, your lip was curled up in disgust.

“Takeout sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, Nanami had taken more medicine at your request and had a plate of steaming food in his hands, his first proper meal in a very long time. Putting on the TV for some light background noise, the two of you ate side by side.

“I’m glad I came to deliver your mail, I was worried about you, Nanami. I could hear you coughing at night.”

“Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing for being sick? It’s not your fault! Just promise me you’ll get better soon, okay?” Giving his shoulder a brief squeeze, your fingers lingered on his body for a few seconds before sliding off. There was a comfortable lull in the conversation for a moment, the two of you eating quietly and fiddling on your phone. Nanami tried not to snoop, but he could see you silently watching a Youtube video on your phone.

“Do you want to watch that on the TV?” He asked quietly, sliding the remote towards you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you quickly put the video up for him to watch as well. Nanami wasn’t surprised that it was one of his videos you were watching, he still had many queued up to be posted, but he was surprised that he didn’t remember a single moment of filming said video.

“Look at the flowers he made on the bread!” Pointing to the screen, you lightly stamped your feet on the floor. “I’m so jealous, whenever I try to make focaccia bread like that it always turns out so ugly!” Nanami nodded along silently; once he was finished with the video for the bread he ate it all in one sitting and had a massive stomach ache.

Grabbing your phone, you tapped away in the comment section of the video, leaving an abundant amount of emojis along with your praising words. Going to Twitter, you tweeted about his video as well and as soon as you hit send Nanami got a notification for the post. His eyes darted to see if you had noticed and luckily you hadn’t, but soon there was a flurry of little dings on his phone.

“Woah Nanami, someone sure is messaging you a lot.” You chuckled and Nanami nearly grabbed his phone off the coffee table and threw it across the room; there was no way that you couldn’t see all the messages were from you. You even leaned forward a little bit to take a peek at who it was.

“Y-yeah, they are.” Fumbling to grab his phone before you could put the pieces together, Nanami had forgotten about the plate of food in his lap and it slid to the ground, immediately beginning to soak into the rug and stain it. Letting out a string of curses, Nanami forgot about his phone and rushed to clean up the spilled food.

Hearing his phone clatter to the ground, Nanami was torn between abandoning his cleaning efforts and stopping you from seeing his phone. He tried to stutter something out, a feeble attempt to draw your attention away as you clearly saw your screen name on his phone.

“What’s this?” You asked quietly, too quietly for Nanami’s comfort. He was still stammering out some excuses, but as you picked up the phone and read your name out loud, he knew it was over.

“I can explain.” His adrenaline was pumping and it was making him begin to sweat profusely. He could clearly tell there was a blush on his face much deeper than the one already there from his fever. Picking up the ruined plate of food, he tried to buy himself more time to try and explain what was happening.

Looking you over, all the excuses Nanami had were coming apart. Every word he could say was falling flat, not just because of his illness but because he found it less and less appealing to try and lie. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Nanami turned to face you.

“I...I’m (S/N).” Taking the phone from you, he showed you the Twitter messages between the two of you. As he went through the evidence, his social media pages and Youtube channel, he could see your face changing and he couldn’t read your expression. Worrying his lip, Nanami was afraid to ask what you thought of him now.

“This is insane.” You finally spoke after a few minutes, looking down at your own phone. “Who would have guessed my neighbor would turn out to be my biggest idol, too?” Slapping a hand over your face as you came to terms with the realization, you laughed a little. “Oh god, that means you saw my reaction video to your hands.”

“Yeah, I did.” Laughing along, Nanami let out a sigh of relief. You seemed to be okay with what he just told you and there was something else weighing on his mind. “You know, since I’m already confessing to secrets, there’s something else I need to tell you, (Y/N).”

“What is it?” Tilting your head to the side, your brows furrowed slightly in concern. Forcing himself to make eye contact despite the nerves he felt, Nanami let out one short breath before speaking.

“I like you, a lot.” He was surely running the highest fever he’d ever experienced now, there was no doubt about it. He was absolutely boiling, sweating buckets waiting for your reaction to this news.

“Really?” You whispered, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Really.” Based on your reaction, Nanami was steeling himself for a rejection. He should have known you wouldn’t feel the same way, he was a fool for getting his hopes up and reading into signals that weren’t there-

“I like you too.” Yet here you were, slowly weaving your fingers together and squeezing his hand. You refused to make eye contact anymore, too embarrassed from the onslaught of emotions going through you. Squeezing your hand back, Nanami ran his thumb over your skin.

“Well then, when I’m better I’d like to take you on a date.”

“As Nanami Kento or as (S/N)?” You teased, giggling to yourself as Nanami made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You already know the answer.” Finally able to relax in his seat again, Nanami let a big smile overtake his face when you cuddled into his side. “You shouldn’t be so close, you might get sick too.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Looping your arms together, you suddenly sat up. “Hey, Nanami.”

“Hm?” Turning to face you, Nanami’s eyes went wide as you kissed him. Your lips were soft, a pleasant feeling against his that he wanted to experience again and again. Kissing you back, it was a short interaction as he quickly parted to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t kiss me, you’re going to get sick.” As much as he wanted to kiss you again, he didn’t want to be the reason you wound up in the same position as him.

“I’ll gladly take that risk.” Giving him a peck on the lips and one on the cheek, you resumed your position cuddled into him. “So all that rotting food in your fridge was from your videos?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Next time you want to upload a video everyday, call me, okay? I would gladly like to eat your cooking again.”

“Well you don’t have to wait for that, I’ll cook for you anytime you want.”

“Will you cook with me on my channel?” You looked at him hopefully.

“I’ll think about it.” He would have to make sure you didn’t accidentally expose his identity or your new budding relationship.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Giving him a big hug, you fixed the blanket over the two of you. Nanami wanted to protest and reaffirm that he would think about it, but with the way you were pressed into his side, he couldn’t find it in him.

“Alright, it’s a yes.”

[kurowrites]

Betting On You - Part II

Hhhhh, this has been frustrating me ever since I wrote part I. Idk, idk.

Previous part

---

Wei Ying and A-Yuan spent a long time in the bathtub, making sure they were all warmed up and clean before they finally stepped out. (Well, were lifted out in the case of A-Yuan.)

Wei Ying picked out the fluffiest towel they owned and wrapped A-Yuan in it, scrubbing him dry.

When he removed the towel, A-Yuan’s hair was sticking up in all directions.

“Look at this little radish!” Wei Ying laughed as he tousled A-Yuan’s hair. “He even has little leaves!”

A-Yuan protested and removed Wei Ying’s hand, but a moment later, he wrapped around Wei Ying’s leg in an attempt to get Wei Ying to dress him.

Technically, A-Yuan was old enough to put on at least the simpler pieces of his clothing on his own, but he hadn’t been feeling well today. Wei Ying, though exhausted himself, didn’t feel it was the right moment to insist on A-Yuan doing it himself, and helped the little radish out. He got out the nice red pyjamas that Wen Qing got him for his last birthday, and wrestled A-Yuan into it.

He had just slipped into a pair of sweatpants himself when the doorbell rang. In a hurry, he grabbed his shirt and clumsily pulled it over his head as he ran to the door of the apartment.

As he should have expected, their wet, soggy laundry and shoes still lay abandoned in front of the door. Wei Ying hastily pushed them to the side as best as he could, so that he could open the door and hide the mountain of dirty clothing behind it, keeping it out of view.

When he opened the door, Lan Zhan stood in the door frame, as stoic, handsome, and well put together as ever. Wei Ying had the nonsensical impulse to check his own appearance to make sure he was decent, but that was a lost case by now. He had barely managed to slip into a shirt, his long hair not brushed out yet.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, a little more breathlessly than he’d intended to.

“Hn,” Lan Zhan replied, and held up a large pot that Wei Ying only noticed when Lan Zhan brought it to his attention. “Soup.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widened. Had Lan Zhan actually made soup for them?

That was… far nicer than anything Wei Ying had expected. He’d maybe expected Lan Zhan to bring over some instant soup or something. But on second thought, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to be the type to eat instant soup. Ever.

“Oh!” Wei Ying cried out, suddenly remembering that he’d been taught manners at some point in his life, instead of just staring dumbly at the pot. Quickly, he waved Lan Zhan into the apartment. “Come in, come in! Please, feel free to join us! It’s very messy right now, but you know how it is. I always need to make sure we’re on time in the morning, so I only really get to clean up at night. Oh, the kitchen is over here, I think the layout is different from your apartment, no? Yours is bigger.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan slowly agreed, after taking off his shoes, careful to evade the sea of water escaping from the bundle of wet clothes behind the door, and stepping into the apartment proper. “I converted one of the rooms into a music room.”

“Right, music teacher,” Wei Ying smiled. “A-Yuan enjoys your music, occasionally. Though we don’t always hear it.”

“The room is soundproofed,” Lan Zhan replied. “I sometimes play with the window open. I apologise.”

“Don’t apologise!” Wei Ying cried as he provided Lan Zhan with a space on his stove to put the pot of soup down. “We enjoy it. Definitely better than the stuff that usually plays on the radio. Or the shit people try to market as ‘appropriate for children.’”

Lan Zhan only hummed in reply, but Wei Ying was almost sure that he looked pleased.

Heh. Even Lan Zhan wasn’t above a little self-satisfaction now and then, apparently.

“Little radish!” he called out. “Come here, Lan Zhan brought us some soup! It’s dinner time!”

A moment later, A-Yuan toddled into the kitchen and firmly attached himself to Wei Ying’s leg. But despite his apparent shyness about the ‘stranger’ standing in his kitchen, he stared up at Lan Zhan with big, curious eyes.

“Say ‘thank you for the meal,’” Wei Ying encouraged him. He might not be the best father out there, but no one could accuse him of not teaching his son some manners. Those that actually made sense, that was.

“Thank you for the meal,” A-Yuan recited obediently, though he remained firmly attached to Wei Ying’s leg and kept looking up at Lan Zhan with what Wei Ying started to suspect was awe.

It was kind of cute, honestly, because A-Yuan didn’t have too many adults in his life, apart from Wei Ying, the staff at the nursery, and rare visits with Wen Qing. It was good to have positive role models in his life, and Lan Zhan was probably as good as they came. It was also a little troubling to Wei Ying, because A-Yuan’s open admiration made Wei Ying feel like he was somehow lacking as a father. It was a ridiculous notion, because he would not want to be like Lan Zhan, but the feeling was there, still. He knew he couldn’t be everything for A-Yuan. But his emotions were not that easily subdued by reason. He knew he wasn’t the ideal choice for an adoptive parent, anyway, and that he would never be a replacement for A-Yuan’s birth parents.

“It is of no consequence,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, startling Wei Ying out of his morose thoughts. “I offered.”

Wei Ying smiled.

“It means a lot to me,” he emphasised, and waddled over to the kitchen cabinets, A-Yuan still attached to his leg. He reached for the soup bowls and started to unload everything onto their dining table.

“Want to eat with us?” he asked Lan Zhan, waving one of the bowls under his nose.

He’d honestly expected Lan Zhan to politely excuse himself and leave at the first opportunity, but to Wei Ying’s surprise, Lan Zhan simply nodded, helped with setting the table, and then sat down to join them during their meal.

And that was how Wei Ying and A-Yuan ended up eating dinner together with Lan Zhan.

It was almost surreal, to have Lan Zhan in this familiar, currently rather messy environment. But it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. On the contrary, Lan Zhan was a strangely nice and surprisingly interesting dinner guest, and Wei Ying suspected that it was due to his presence that A-Yuan was on his best behaviour. Wei Ying didn’t need to remind him even once not to play with his food! If only that happened during all of their meals.  

To be honest, it was not that easy to get Lan Zhan to speak in the beginning, and convince him to tell them stories about his work as a music teacher. But he made his silence up with being an excellent listener, sometimes listening to A-Yuan’s occasionally nonsensical stories with more earnestness than even Wei Ying was able to fake. And Wei Ying had a lot of practice in faking it.

Wei Ying mostly felt grateful for Lan Zhan’s efforts, because it meant that he was off the hook, for once. He could just sit there, eat his soup, grin at Lan Zhan when A-Yuan said something particularly nonsensical, and not worry about the rest.

And when Lan Zhan finally decided to tell them a few stories of his own, both he and A-Yuan listened to him with genuine interest and no small bit of fascination. For such a taciturn man, he was a surprisingly good storyteller. A certain sense of wit shone through his every word that Wei Ying enjoyed greatly, and that had him laughing out loud more than just once.

All too soon, they were finished with their meal, and it was time for A-Yuan to go to bed. A-Yuan had already started to lag at the dinner table, and so brushing his teeth and putting him to bed was a fairly short and painless process that evening, despite the excitement that an unknown guest had brought.

Lan Zhan, on the other hand, had insisted on helping with the clean-up, and so he stayed and assisted Wei Ying with the kitchen even after A-Yuan had been brought to bed and fallen asleep. Wei Ying had to almost physically keep him from doing all of the clean-up, and insisted to wash the dishes himself.

And so they had ended next to each other at the kitchen counter, Wei Ying washing the dishes, and Lan Zhan drying them.

It was an odd situation.

Wei Ying suddenly realised that he had never been alone with Lan Zhan before that moment. Whenever they had met before, it was usually when Wei Ying was going out of their apartment block or returning home with A-Yuan. Their interactions had usually been short and to the point, and Wei Ying had elected to think of Lan Zhan however he pleased.

It hadn’t been like this.

He suddenly felt himself growing shy, which was all kinds of ridiculous, because nothing was different from before. Why was he suddenly having feelings about this?

Luckily, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to notice how the mood in the room had suddenly shifted, and continued to stoically dry the dishes and carefully set them aside once they were properly dried.

When the kitchen was clean and all tasks were finished, Lan Zhan hung up his towel to dry, nodded once to himself, and then announced, “I should head home.”

Wei Ying stifled a sigh of mixed relief and regret, and led Lan Zhan to the door of the apartment.

“Thank you,” he said as Lan Zhan slipped into his shoes. “You were a true lifesaver today. Both with the soup and for keeping A-Yuan company.”

Lan Zhan rose up from tying his shoes (who did that, it was only a few metres to his own apartment) and stretched to his full height (which was impressive, he was taller than Wei Ying). He looked at Wei Ying for several long and agonising (for Wei Ying) moments.

“No need for thanks,” Lan Zhan replied. “I would not have offered if it had been an inconvenience. A-Yuan is a good child.”

Wei Ying couldn’t help the little glow of pride and happiness that rose up in his chest. A-Yuan was the best child, and he was lucky to be his father!

He said as much to Lan Zhan, and unless Wei Ying’s eyes started to play tricks on him now, his enthusiasm was answered by the tiniest little smile.

“Good night, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, that smile still present in the corners of his mouth.

Wei Ying felt he liked when Lan Zhan said his name like that.

And then, Lan Zhan reached out, and gently brushed one messy strand of hair out of Wei Ying’s face.  

“Please make sure to take care of yourself, as well.”

And with that, he turned around and left, the apartment door falling shut silently behind him.

Wei Ying stood in front of the closed entrance door for several dumbfounded moments.

Did that just–

Was that–

Lan Zhan–

He let out a garbled sound, remembered that A-Yuan was asleep, and quickly turned towards the wet clothes still piled up in the entrance.

He wasn’t going to sleep.

Might as well do some washing.

 Dammit.

[captainderyn]

Jealousy, Jealousy [Fic]

Summary: Wren considered Aramys her best friend, her closest ally, and the most important person in her world. Acknowledging the crush she definitely doesn't have would ruin everything they've built together. But when at a party put on by their fellow Dark Council members, Aramys begins catching the attention of others there, Wren has to admit that its jealousy that's taking hold.

Cross Posted to AO3, but tumblr hates outside links. Aramys belongs to @lumielles

--

Formal events put on by the Dark Council were usually insufferable, but tonight was quickly becoming unbearable. 

    Once upon a very long time ago, the bright-eyed ambitious creature that was Wren’s younger self had thrived in the indulgent, opulent event scene, with its dripping chocolate fondue fountains, twinkling lights, and stifling orchestral music.

    Wren still kept her wits about her in these environments, still thrived in her Sphere’s work, but the constant drivel of these glamorous, over-glorified parties was becoming taxing. Her tongue fatigued from all the pretty words she spun, her facial muscles aching from the fake smiles she wore. 

    She kicked one leg over the other, hefting the heavy black skirt of her dress up as she crossed her legs at the knee. Swirling the deep red of her wine--whoever ordered the caterers for this party had skimped on the alcohol quality, making this all the more atrocious to weather--she took a long sip. 

    Tonight would be far more bearable if she held the company of her dearest Aramys with her. That had made the first few hours of this nightmare tolerable, with whispered snickers behind hiding hands as they judged those who were trying too hard to prove they were important. 

    But Aramys had been waylaid by one such type, a gentleman with a hideously embroidered suit, with far too many rings, expensive bangles, and one more watch than necessary twinkling as he waved his hands about. No doubt talking about the things he deemed important enough to have earned him an invitation. Perhaps they involved the lightsaber handle dangling at his side, also twinkling, and extremely out of place at an event that was meant to be no weapons. 

    Wren’s lips curled into sneer and pressed the glass to her lips again. Perhaps he was compensating for something.  

    The air was becoming too hot, her skin burning, and she pulled her arms up to heave let the delicate white sleeves of her dress, complete with tasteful embroidery, collect in her elbows. It was barely enough to cool her forearms, let alone the simmering rest of her body. 

    She wanted Aramys back over here, making her laugh like that gaudy sith was, with her smile bright and--

    Her palms heated, the beginnings of electricity sparking across her skin. 

    Wren let out a sharp breath from her nose, looking away and narrowing her eyes at the marble countertop of the table beside her. Partygoers had left their glasses and plates there inconsiderately, napkins and forgotten drinks lonely. 

    Was it jealousy, burning its way across her skin and writhing in her like a snake?

    There had been countless parties where she’d been on her own, Aramys owed her nothing, and Wren expected nothing except the company she was gifted. 

    Though it had been a long while since anyone had been so bold in their flirtations. So blatant. 

    And Wren had long since given up trying to obliterate the whispers of emotion she’d begun to feel when around Aramys, unable to squash them completely. The way her heart would beat painfully quick whenever her friend would get close enough that a whiff of her perfume twined around Wren. When they would connect so perfectly through their forged Force bond that it felt as though they were of one mind when working. 

    There were a few times Wren had given in to fantasies of what it would be like to let those feelings flourish. She’d just as quickly put them away in some secret part of herself, guarded in a vault of distant wishes and maybe-in-other-worlds.

    That was her best friend. Her closest partner. One of her only true allies in this cutthroat world they found themselves in. 

    And there was no reason for her to believe that admitting all the thoughts that ran through her mind would do anything less than shatter the carefully built glass castle they’d created. 

    But still. She wanted to be the one trading bold flirtations. Buying her drinks without it just being a gesture of friendship. 

    Pitifully, desperately to the point of agony, she craved the something more that sat tantalizingly just outside the bounds of the deep connection they shared. 

    “Tch.” she hissed out between her teeth, giving her head a quick shake. She needed to get a hold of herself.

    A familiar presence brushed against her awareness and she blinked, bringing her eye to eye with the very source of her desires and her distress. 

“Aramys,” she breathed out, half in greeting, heart picking up as she hoped against all hope and knowing that she failed, that her internal battle had not just played out on her face. 

Her friend’s achingly beautiful face lit up in a smile as she gestured to Wren’s hands and the wine glass clutched tightly between her fingers, “I know the wine is awful, but has it victimized you that badly?” 

Wren huffed out a laugh, taking a drink. The wine buzzed across her tongue, a byproduct of the wavering control she should have kept a handle on. She’d been lucky to not singe her dress, “I always feel victimized when these dull events fail to provide adequate means to get through them.” 

“Mhm,” Aramys hummed, plucking the wine glass from Wren’s fingers and setting it aside. She slipped her, mostly filled, one in as a replacement. The red lipstick Aramys wore was imprinted on the edge of the glass in the shape of her lips, “And that’s why I felt you getting pissed from all the way across the room, even with everyone else here?” 

Shit. Wren tilted her chin up, willing away a flush, “The wine is truly awful.” 

Aramys’ laugh was light and she gestured to the glass she’d imparted on Wren, “That was a gift from the lord who told me his whole life story. If he’d let me get a single word in, he would’ve known that the one he chose was my least favorite of all the options.” 

For a long moment, Wren considered dumping the glass onto the floor. But that would send the wine splattering onto the white sleeves of her dress, staining them with the poor decision that idiot had made. 

“I would’ve got you the right one.” she said, with more venom than she intended. She pressed her lips together. 

“And that’s why I came to find you,” Aramys seized Wren’s hand up in her own, giving her a tug, “Because you’re going to accompany me to get more. I don’t want anyone else thinking I look particularly conversational.” 

Yielding to the insistent pressure, Wren stood. Her skirts fell back around her feet, brushing against the train of Aramys’ own dark dress into a midnight pool of fabric. 

Already there was a hole in the delicate deep red lace that made up the underskirt of Aramys’ dress, the black fabric hitched up onto her hip so it cascaded to the floor on only one side. It would’ve been scandalous had Aramys not carried herself with such elegant confidence. 

Wren knew that hole hadn’t been there before. The dress had been sequestered from her own closet, two weeks ago when they’d been together in her apartment trying to figure out what to wear to this event. 

Aramys had snatched it, and when she’d tried it on Wren had nearly forgotten how to breathe. And that was before it had been tailored to hug Aramys’ curves in all the right ways. 

“Someone already tore your dress?” Wren gestured to it. 

Aramys’ lips pressed into a frown, a line forming between her eyebrows, “The same one who gave me the wine somehow managed to step on it as I tried to leave. I almost ‘accidentally’ spilled that wine on him before considering if that would cause a diplomatic incident.” 

Her air quotes were vicious but the look she sent Wren was apologetic, “I’m sorry about the dress.” 

“It’s not about the dress,” Wren looked sideways at Aramys, a small smile quirking up her lips despite the simmering beast circling the audacity of that sith lord, “You already know anything in my closet is yours as much as it is mine.” 

Aramys hooked her arm through Wren’s elbow, leaning against her. Even wearing tall heels, she still only brushed Wren’s chin when standing upright. 

Her perfume swept around Wren, intoxicatingly Aramys. Her heart stuttered. Please stop. She couldn’t take anymore. 

“Only if you come with it.” Aramys said, “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if it was just me and your dress collection.” 

Even as Wren’s heart raced, she felt herself relax more than she had all night. This was familiar. This was comfortable. 

“I would hope, wear them.” She teased back, “And not let them go to waste.” 

“Do you know how much my tailor bill would be?” Aramys exclaimed, “Tailoring all your dresses to fit me?” 

Wren would get her anything she wanted, if she asked. She pushed that thought to the wayside.

From the corner of her eye she caught another unknown party goer, a lovely chiss woman in traditional Csillan dress, making to come towards them. Eyes fixed on Aramys. 

The glare Wren sizzling towards her was nothing less than deadly, and wholly unintended. It stopped the woman in her tracks. 

What turned her entirely away was when Wren, chiss already forgotten, delicately plucked Aramys’ hand from her arm. Her mind already wandered back to the dress Aramys was currently wearing, even with its torn lace. 

She pressed her lips to the back of Aramys hand, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look drop dead gorgeous tonight. The tailor did a wonderful job with that dress.” 

Aramys’ cheeks reddened, “Oh,” she smoothed her free hand across the cascading folds of the skirt, “Only because you chose it out. I was fully prepared to wear the black dress I wore at the last party.” 

“And you looked wonderful in that one too,” Wren noted. It’d distracted her all night, that dress that sparkled like it had captured the stars itself and turned Aramys into the quite literal star of the night. 

Not that Aramys wasn’t already that to Wren, always. 

Her mind was beginning to wander off the tracks of all reason again. Perhaps it was the shitty wine that made all of these thoughts almost make their way from Wren’s brain and out of her mouth. She clamped down on them, staunchly refusing to let them go. 

 “Well, I was right about that dress on you.” Aramys redirected, eyes wandering over Wren. She ignored the way Aramys’ study made a thrill go through her, “I’m surprised you haven’t had a line out the door of people begging to talk with you.” 

Every single person who had tried had made a beeline out the door when Wren had sent them a frosty glare. As the night wore on she didn’t have the patience or the want for pleasantries and people who weren’t actually interested in her, but her status. 

And as people had become increasingly intoxicated, she hadn’t wanted to play ‘100 Nice Ways to Tell Someone No’. 

“I’ve only wanted the attention of one person tonight.” 

Aramys looked up at Wren, “I hope you get it.” 

It’s you! Wren’s mind hollered, Please understand it’s you. All I’ve wanted tonight was exactly this. 

“I already am.” The words slipped from Wren before she could register them, her mind going blank when Aramys gave a trill of what Wren hoped was pleased surprise. 

It might have been Wren’s imagination, but she swore Aramys’ grip tightened on her arm. She certainly wasn’t imagining it when Aramys twined their fingers together. 

This was where she would perish. Right here on this floor, spilling the atrocious wine everywhere. 

Aramys held their locked hands up together with a dazzling smile, “See this? This is the rest of our night. No more distractions. Promise?” 

“Promise.” Wren said breathlessly. 

[theepisceswriter]

Prompt 47 and 49 with Armin please if that's okay. Also congrats on 300 girl! 🧡

300 MILESTONE EVENT. 

Prompt #47: “you sound so pretty when you moan” + Prompt #49: “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight.”

♡ TW: I didn’t proofread so if you see any typos shhhh, public sex, breeding kink, mature things duh, 18+, MINORS DNI or I’ll bite your ankles 

♡ WC: 1.8k cause I got carried away besties 

You weren’t quite sure what to think when Armin woke you up earlier than usual for the two of you with his bright blues staring directly into your eyes and a smile wide enough on his lips to show off the small dentition that he had on the right side of his cheek, easily missable if you hadn’t spent most of your time observing his soft beautiful features on his face.

“Come on, get up and get dressed and meet me in the car in like twenty minutes. We’re going to the beach!” He spoke up once he felt that you were at a conscious enough level to take in his words, not even staying a second longer after those words left his mouth, but jumping off of the bed and heading immediately to what you presumed to be the direction of the car. You had no choice but to protest against his orders or complain about the good slumber he had woken you up from. Instead you followed his directions and got dressed with nothing to go off except for the fact that the two of you were going to the beach.

Curses slipped past your lips underneath your breath constantly throughout your whole routine and even throughout the duration of the car ride; Armin’s overtly bubbly mood this early in the morning causing confusion upon confusion, but still you smiled from ear to ear as you watched him sing his heart out to the cheesy pop song on the radio, enjoying the subtle serenade he was giving you and even joined him towards the end of the song. Giggles and jokes from the both of your terrible singing filling up the car. Your semi sour mood from earlier already being pushed to the back of your mind. 

The sunshine that kissed your skin when you stepped out of the car moments later filled you with a warmness all over and it was then that you were grateful Armin decided to force you out of the house today.

“Are you finally going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“A picnic!” He answers you in a sing song voice as he makes his way around the car to the trunk where he removes all the needed supplies for your rendezvous, handing the picnic over to you once his hands got too full. 

“A picnic?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with that I hope?”

“Not at all,” You’re quick to answer him with the shake of your head and soon a smile creeps its way onto your features, “I’ve just never been on one before.”

“Well, I’m honored to be your first.” Though his tone is teasing, his smile is wide enough to crease the corner of his eyes letting you know that there was some genuity in his words. 

The two of you took your place on a spot where the concrete sidewalk met the sand, deciding that you didn’t want to be directly in the sand just incase it got in the food you two had packed with you which consisted of sandwiches, strawberries, a mini charcuterie board, and even champagne to be more on the boujie side. The choices of food showing that Armin had planned this out thoroughly and put quite some thought into it. Not to mention that few people occupied the space where you two were at, too early in the morning for people to come flocking to the beach.

Laughs, reminiscing, and conversations about everything and nothing filled up a good portion of your picnic. The warmth and breeze of the beach adding to the feelings of security and comfort you felt by Armin’s side, the glances his blue eyes would give you making you feel loved and appreciated without him even having to open up his lips, but still he does: “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I got lucky enough to get someone as beautiful, kind, and smart as you in my life.”

His words left your cheeks warming up and not from the harsh rays of the sun, each one of his words hitting you in your gut and leaving your stomach fluttering with butterflies. Before your lips could even open up to request a stop to his compliments his lips are on yours in an instance, molding so perfectly against your like they always did, like they were made exclusively for yours like he claimed so many times. What started off as a sweet passionationate kiss in the sun quickly switched gears to something more sensual. Armin’s tongue sliding past your lips and teeth to gently swirl around yours, the remnants of the strawberries and champagne on your buds warranting a soft groan out of his mouth.

Before you knew it, the soft padding of his hand is travelling up your thighs and spreading the soft flesh with his palm, gripping it lightly but not moving another inch just to mess with you. But the moment you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer into the kiss he gives in, hand disappearing underneath the fabric of your sundress and immediately allowing his middle and index finger to travel up to the thin fabric of your underwear and massage your clit. 

“Armin,” You pulled away with flushed cheeks and a breathy moan to scan the environment around the two of you. Though there still seemed to be no people around except for a few strangers scattered far away at the waters of the ocean, there was no telling how it might change in the next couple of minutes. Because there was no stopping your lover once he got started. 

“Don’t worry about anyone around us. Focus on me.” Though his tone was sweet and soft as ever, the action of his fingers moving your panties to the side to give his middle finger access to run up your slit was the complete opposite. And focus on him you did indeed, face trying to remain stoic as ever and even going as far to tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to hide the moan that dared to escape from your lips when you felt the pressure of his middle finger entering your cunt with ease. 

“You’re so wet for me already baby, did I do this to you, hm? I got you this wet?”

You nod in an attempt to keep your mouth closed knowing the next time you opened it a moan would slip out with ease and possibly catch the attention of those at the water despite their distance from you two, but he wasn’t having any of that. His index soon followed his middle one, curving up against the soft spongy part of your insides that he knew got a reaction out of you no matter what and he was right because a stifled moan left your lips soon after. “That’s my girl,” He praised, fingers beginning to move in a constant beckoning motion inside of you, “Give me some more moans, come on. I want to know that I’m doing a good job.”

Bullshit, he always knew he did a good job. No one, not even you, was able to work your body the way that he did. Get reactions out of you that you didn’t even know you had in you and make your body do things that you didn’t even know that you could do. 

“Y-You always make me feel good.” You finally let out, lips connecting back to his to silence your moans once more, but he only allows you to kiss for so long before he’s pulling away, your head resting in the crook of his neck to hide the expressions of pleasures that find its way onto your features and to muffle your moans so only he can hear them. 

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me. I wish all these people here could hear how pretty you sound for me, know how good you’re feeling.” It was these words that finally brought you to your orgasm, eyes shutting tightly, toes gripping on to the blanket underneath them, and walls clenching around his fingers as he purposefully pumps them into you quickly to let you ride it out until his fingers were soaked with your orgasm.

He gives you no time to recover from the orgasm you only experienced seconds ago before he’s tapping at your hips for you to lift them as he moves to remove your underwear from underneath your dress and placing them inside of the picnic basket you brought along with you. In those few seconds you decide that missionary would be too obvious even with the few people that surrounded you, so you make the decision to push Armin on his back and take a position where you;re straddling him from above. A smug look on his face as he watches your nimble fingers work at unzipping his jeans, hips lifting to allow you to pull his boxers down enough for his erection to come smacking against his fabric clad stomach, the tip flushed and pink with precum leaking from it showing that he had been wanting just as much as you had for the last few minutes.

“Fuck, y/n,” An airy grunt leaves his lips when he pushes his hips up against yours and slides deep inside of you with one swift motion, hands going to your hip to hold you in place with each deep long stroke he sent up in you. 

“Just like that,” You let out the prettiest sounds that are music to Armin’s ears from below and encourage him to buck up into you faster at a pace that has your tits bouncing against his face, his hand going up to pull the top of your dress down to expose them and mouth opening to catch one of your nipples into it. “Your cock feels so good, Armin.”

“Yeah? Yeah?” He breathes out, hand dropping underneath your dress to rub at your clit in sloppy circles trying to get you as close to your orgasm as he is right now. You feel so good and warm around him and the way you clench around him has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he can’t help but allow that warmth in the depth of his stomach to accumulate more and more with each thrust up into you. 

“I’’m going to put a fucking baby into you tonight, y/n, but you’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d like to grow round with my seed and be my personal breeding toy, wouldn’t you?” With each word that leaves his lips makes his thrusts harder and faster at the thought and it’s the only warning you get before warm strings of cum are shooting up into you. Instead of pulling away and letting the two of you gather yourself and get clean Armin holds you in this position for a while, face planted in your chest as he heaves against it coming down from his orgasm.

 “Let’s stay like this for a while.” He suggests in between a breath, adjusting his head so he’s looking back up at you, sly smirk on his features, “Make sure my cum stays inside of you and so you can keep my cock nice and warm.”

[sugarandspice-games]

Lucifer comforts an abused MC with a PTSD flashback

Wooo! Our first ever imagine! This one ended up being really long, so I’m sorry about that. If anyone else would like to request one, please read here!

[TW: PTSD, depression, allusions and mentions to past emotional and physical abuse plus quotes from abusers]

The week was... rough, to say the least. The blustering cold of winter started to encroach on the crisp air of fall, which meant that midterm exams were creeping closer. The lessons, which you had once found fun, started to get tiring since it was an endless slog of reviewing for the big test coming up.

Furthermore... you missed everyone. The brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Luke... Lucifer. It seemed that, because everyone was either studying (or preparing for the post-exam party) nobody had any time for you. You were lonely and depressed.

So, even though you wanted to do well on the test, your heart just wasn’t in your studies. It got to the point where you spent more and more time alone in your room, sleeping until you couldn’t sleep anymore. You even started zoning out during classes, which resulted in one or two teachers snapping at you. Some students also remarked that you were useless, as the only human student with no magic... a lot of them gossipped that you were only there because Lucifer liked you, which got back to him.

Eventually, enough was enough. The rumors compounded upon his worry, and he decided it was time to pay you a visit in your room on Saturday night.

You didn’t have any classes that day, so you were laying in your bed, scrolling on your phone, when you heard the knock at your door. It sounded... rather harsh compared to the usual rapping on your door, so you tensed. Something was wrong.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open. Lucifer stood in the doorway, his eyebrows knit together in a stern expression, and he sighed.

“Sit up.”

You groaned, pushing yourself away from the comforting warmth of your mattress, the heat tempting you to flop back down... but you managed, the blankets falling off of your shoulders.

“We need to have a serious discussion about your... lack of effort.”

Your heart and your eyes burned at his words, your face going pale. Luckily, your cheeks still felt dry, but you trembled as you spoke.

“I’m... sorry. I know I haven’t been trying as hard as I could have.” You fall silent, not able to say much more.

“Then why aren’t you making more of an effort?” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Really, MC. I don’t want you to be unprepared for your midterms, but it seems that I’m alone in that desire. You’ve barely left your room or touched your textbooks. You should study in the library instead of your room if you get distracted by the urge to sleep. I already have enough trouble trying to get my brothers to pay attention. I don’t want to have to worry about you as well.”

“I’m...”

“I don’t want you to apologize again, I want you to work harder. I’m very disappointed in you.”

You were already zoning out again, but that final comment was the nail in your coffin. Your grip on reality finally snapping as your eyes lost focus, your mind drifted off to a dark place from your past, and before you could understand what was happening, you could no longer sense Lucifer or your current surroundings, only the cruel words from others you loathed to remember-- the ones you couldn’t help but remember:

“You’re such a useless, clumsy moron! This is why nobody wants to be around you!”

“I wish you would just die.”

“Why can’t you pay attention to anything? Is your brain broken or something? Nobody likes broken people.”

“You disgust me. You make me want to hit you. Do you want that?! Do you want me to hurt you?!”

But the worst echoed in your head over, and over, and over again.

“I’m disappointed in you. I can’t believe I made the mistake of thinking you were better than that.”

Your lip trembled as you finally managed to speak, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“P-please... st...stop...”

Lucifer rambled for awhile, mostly giving you advice on how you could improve in your studies, but he finally paused when he heard you whimper. He came closer, but you didn’t react to his towering presence. Your eyes looked wild and unfocused, and he cleared his throat.

“Excuse me? I didn’t hear what you said.”

You didn’t respond, still caught up in the painful memories.

“MC? Are you paying attention?”

Still nothing. And that’s when he saw it-- your skin losing its normal healthy hue, looking slightly grey and your quivering fingertips digging into your biceps.

“Oh... what have I done?”

Lucifer’s mind screamed at him to do something, anything, berated him for being so harsh to you. He knew you had a history with abuse before you came to the Devildom; he took you to one of the counselors at RAD when you experienced a similar flashback before. What he failed to notice was how on-edge you had been the whole week.

And oh, he could understand. The harsh environment that his ‘Father’ provided him, the pressure to be heaven’s perfect angel... he had experienced similar, though not quite the same. But he often fell back into old habits, pressuring everyone else to be perfect as well so that they wouldn’t be punished, even if there was no risk of that here.

Finally making himself focus on the situation at hand, he tried to remember what humans needed to ground themselves. Since you couldn’t see or hear him, he’d need something you could touch, or possibly smell. He took his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over yours, placing some of the soft, velvety fabric over your fingers and letting the fur collar tickle your cheek. The spicy scent from his cologne drifted over your nose, and you could feel the comforting, warm weight against you.

You blinked. And for a second that seemed to last an hour, you stared blankly ahead, finally getting a grasp of your surroundings before your gaze drifted down to Lucifer, who knelt at your bedside. His hand clasped around your thigh to steady you in case you were dizzy.

“I...” you began, but he cut you off.

“Please, do not apologize,” he said, “I am the one who is sorry. I was the one who was not paying attention... to you, or anything else. I was... worried that you would fail, and irrational as it may be to fear that, I was afraid you would get hurt if you did. I should not have been so harsh.”

Your eyes finally filled with tears, and you sobbed. Lucifer pushed himself onto your bed, holding you tightly in his arms.

“I-I just... I was doing the best I could, but I can’t focus and I-I... everyone is too busy, and I can’t talk to anyone! A-a-and then you said you were disappointed... Do you hate me?” you cried, clinging to him and soaking his shirt with tears and snot.

He ignored the mess and gently stroked your hair, cuddling you against him.

“Of course I don’t hate you, and I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it. I could never hate someone that I love, no... someone I adore so much. My heart belongs to you, as yours does to me.” He placed a sweet kiss to the top of your head, trying to stifle his own tears. He had really hurt you, hadn’t he? And yet, you were the one worrying if he hated you... “I am sorry. I love you so much. I will try to spend more time with you if you are lonely, and perhaps I can help you if you cannot focus on your studies. We could review together, if you would like.”

You nod, too teary and shaky to form words as you snuggle against him. You both stay like that for a long time, tangled around each other in your bed, before you spent the rest of the night in his room, listening to music together and relaxing while he stroked and kissed you.

Tomorrow, he would help you get caught up on your studies, but tonight, he cared about nothing but showing you how much he loved you, even if people in your life before you came to the Devildom failed to do so.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Natural” - Chapter One- Embry Call x Reader

Coming Home

After almost two years, I finally got to come back to Forks. We had to move for my dad’s job temporarily, which was truthfully my biggest nightmare. I was stuck living in Texas; rotting away in the sun and overbearing heat. I had missed all my friends, while I tried to contact them as much as I could, it was super difficult to keep our contact as much as I would like-- especially due to their mysterious disappearances at times. 

I left our sophomore year of highschool, something we were all supposed to go through together, alas I did it alone and miserable. Yeah we would’ve gone to two different high schools, but to be able to hang out every day as we usually did was something I would’ve killed for.  I just was happy that I can assume they all had a better experience since they were together. 

We were such a tight knit group of friends, thanks to my dad being great friends with Billy Black. It was Jake, Quil, Embry, and I against the world. Though, if I were to be honest, Embry was the first guy I ever had a crush on. Since we were kids, I wanted nothing more than to be with him. I think only Jake knew, as he was the first friend I ever made. The constant behind the scenes teasing was something I could never forget. 

Part of me wonders that if I ever left, would Embry and I have ended up together? I always felt that the feeling probably was mutual, but the fear of ruining the best friendship ever was a lot to consider. I never pushed, and neither did he. Though, before I left-- we did kiss. 

That kiss was enough to leave me with the feeling of a thousand suns bursting in my soul. I never wanted to let go of Embry. But it was something we never discussed further. I’m still not even sure why not, probably because me leaving hurt us all a lot. We often still add music to our shared playlist, though. I would have to make it a point to myself for my own sake that I don’t get my hopes up for nothing. 

Over the years, I’ve never been so thankful for technology. I still got to, as I said, rarely watch them all grow up seemingly overnight. The haircuts last year really threw me through a loop, but I never pressed. It made me sad to see Jake and Embry cut their hair, I loved their hair. The excitement that I felt to see them again was raging inside of me. They had no clue I was coming back so soon. I told them I would return after graduation in the summer, but they had no idea I meant that week. 

As we pulled up the small house in Forks, I could barely contain my excitement. I followed my father’s car in my own, watching the moving truck unload everything into our new house. 

We both exited our respective cars, meeting up for a nice side hug on the front lawn, admiring the new house. 

“You talked to Billy, right?” I ask him. 

“Yes. He said the boys should be around, or at least Jacob would be. You can head over there soon.” He smiled at me, knowing that seeing the guys was the top priority for me. 

“Thank you, dad. I’ll help unpack, too. Don’t worry. I just miss them so much.” I say, almost tearing up at the thought of them. 

I walked into the house, finding my room. I dropped what I brought with me in my car off. I smiled at the thought of being back home. I was going to love decorating my new room. I was going to love the environment again, the woods. Everything. I looked out my window and admired the patch of woods I was blessed to have nearby. I would have to explore those soon. I smiled at the thought of smelling the pine trees and the earth underneath my feet. I would have to drag the guys on hikes again. 

I grab my keys, phone, and wallet and throw them into my small bag. Walking down the stairs avoiding the moving guys as best I can. 

I start my car, driving down the long and winding roads to the reservation. Smiling like an idiot, before the nerves kicked in. 

What if they changed so much and would hate me now? What if they don’t want me around? What if Embry wants nothing to do with me? Even worse, what if Embry had a girlfriend? 

I tried to shake the thoughts away, knowing it would only ruin the surprise. 

Before I knew it, I pulled up to the Black household. I got out of my car, walking up the path to the front door, knocking. 

The door swings open to Billy smiling. 

“I can’t believe you’re here, kid. I missed you!” He rolls backwards, letting me in. I hugged him hello. 

“I can’t believe it either.” I said, smiling. 

“You grew up so much. I can’t even believe it.” He looks at me, smiling like a proud uncle. 

“It’s crazy right? I can’t even imagine how big they all got. In pictures they look huge.” I laugh.

“Oh yeah, they got huge. Jacob and Quil should be here in a few minutes, I sent them out to go get swedish fish. Your favorite.” He laughed. 

“Oh, so they’re bringing me a snack without knowing?” I laugh.

“Yeah they are. Please, come sit down.” He directs me to the couch. 

I thank him and walk over, plopping down. We had some small talk for a few minutes before we heard the boys coming back. The doorknob began to open and I felt my heart almost leap through my chest. 

“We got the swedish fish. But why did we have to get them? You don’t even like-.” Jacob stops talking as he sees me sitting on the couch. 

Quil looks at him confused, before seeing me for himself. His face lights up. 

“No fuckin way.” Quil says through an ear to ear grin. 

“(Y/N)!” Jacob runs over to me, I stand up before he picks me up, spinning me in a hug. 

“When did you get here?” He asks me, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

At least they were happy to see me. 

“Forks? About an hour ago. Your house? Like ten minutes ago.” I laugh. 

“You’re back for good?” He asks, still not letting go of me. 

“Yes. For good, finally.” I smile. 

“Okay okay, it’s my turn.” Quil says, pushing past Jacob to engulf me into a rib-crushing hug. 

I noticed how they were both burning hot as Quil didn’t let go of me. 

“Jesus, you’re both burning up. Are you guys sick?” I ask concerned.

“No, we just run hot.” Quil smiles. 

“Oh, okay… So when did you guys get so… massive?” I ask, practically looking up at them. 

“About a year or so ago. You missed a lot, sweetie.” Quil says, messing up the hair on my head. 

“You guys have matching tattoos?” I ask, pointing to their arms. 

“Wow, (Y/N). You’re observant today.” Jacob laughs.

“Yeah, it’s for the tribe. A lot of us have it.” Quil says, looking at his arm before back at me.

“Oh, that’s really nice. They look great.” I smile at them. 

“So, now that we have this surprise, we have to figure out plans for tonight.” Jake looks between Quil and I. 

“Well, I have a patch of woods by my house. I planned on going on a hike myself tomorrow morning or tonight if I didn’t get home too late. Would you guys wanna do that?” I ask, looking at them. 

“Woah, by yourself?” Quil almost shrieks. 

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? A lot of bears or something?” I laugh. 

“Yeah, there’s been a lot of bear attacks. We’ll go with you.” Jake offers, glancing back at Billy, who seemed to nod in approval. 

“Oh okay, cool. You could also help me put my room together if you guys want, take a peek at the new house.” I poke Jacob’s arm, knowing they would be great to help me move furniture. 

“Wow, already trying to recruit us?” Quil laughs. 

“Maybe. Or maybe I just need help moving furniture into the best spots?” I smile at them, pleading with my eyes. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Jacob rolls his eyes, playfully shoving me. 

“Okay, I’m parked right outside, I’ll drive. Bye Billy, it was great to see you.” I smile at him, hugging him goodbye. 

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, right?” 

“Of course. You’re gonna be sick of me soon!” I yell back at him. 

“Never!” He laughs. 

The boys and I walk over to my car and begin the drive to my house, blasting music and singing like absolute psychopaths. 

We pull into the driveway and they greet my excited father. They talk for a few before I drag them upstairs to help me move my furniture. 

“Jake, you got buff. Like really buff. What happened?” I ask in shock as he moves my dresser with seemingly no effort. 

“Hey, I got buff, too.” Quil says defensively, moving the other dresser with just as much ease. 

“I see that. Jeez, I missed a lot.” I chuckled, looking down sadly. 

“Well, we get to make up for lost time, now.” Jake smiles. “I can’t wait, I’ve missed having friends.” I admit, laughing. 

“You definitely friends in Texas.” Quil scoffed. 

“Nah, not really.” I purse my lips, stifling my chuckle. 

“Well, you have us again. Plus our friend group expanded greatly, so you won’t be bored anymore.” Quil offers, earning a hesitant look from Jacob. 

“Anyone I know?” I ask. 

“Yeah, you’ll remember them. Jared, Paul, Sam, Leah, and some others.” Jacob says. 

“Oh wow, that’s great that you all hang out a lot now.” I smile. 

“Yeah, it is.” Jacob says, looking at the bed. 

“Where do you want the bed?” Quil asks. 

“I can help you guys with that, it’s really heavy with the mattress on it and everything. But I want it in that corner by the window.” I point.

Without missing a beat, the two boys pick up the bed with ease and move it, leaving me surprised. 

“Or not.” I smile. 

They look back to me, smiling. We finish moving everything else around, taking much less time than I thought it would. 

I look around in astonishment, impressed with how quick that was.

“Wanna go for that hike?” Jake offers. 

“Yeah, of course.” I grin, leading them out of my room and out the back door. 

We walk around, exploring the new environment. 

I found a fallen log, walking across the top of it. 

“If you’re as clumsy as I remember, maybe this isn’t your best choice.” Quil laughs. 

Jacob turns, looking at me with impressed eyes as I make it to the end of the log with no slip ups.

“See, I’m fine.” I smirk, right as I trip over my own feet as I went to jump off the log. 

Quil catches me right before I fell into the dirt. 

“Yeah, you’re fine.” He mocks.

“Thanks, Quil.” I nod at him. 

We continued going deeper into the woods, they wanted to hear all about Texas and how much I hated it. 

“So, how bad is the bear thing? I really can’t go hiking alone?” I ask as the sun begins to set, causing us to head back to Jake’s house to watch movies. 

“Uh, really bad. It’s like a real issue here right now.” Quil says, looking at me and then back to Jacob.

“Damn. That sucks. For you guys. Because I’m probably gonna drag you out a lot then.” I smile at them. 

“That’s fine. Works for us.” Jacob smiles. 

“Embry’s gonna shit himself when he sees you.” Quil laughs. 

Embry. 

How I wished he was here. 

“He will.” Jacob laughs, winking at me behind Quil’s back. 

“Oh I’m sure.” I say sarcastically, trying not to blush from Jacob’s silent remark. 

“What? We were all inseparable growing up, just because you were gone for a while doesn’t mean he’ll feel differently.” Quil said. 

“I guess that’s true. Where is he, anyway?” I ask. 

“He’s helping Sam with something.” Jacob answers quickly. 

“Okay... I’ll surprise him tomorrow if that would work.” My voice trails off, eyebrows raised in suspicion. 

“Perfect.” Quil smiles. 

We finally get back to my house, getting into my car and driving over to Jake’s. The drive was once again way too much fun. I missed my best friends. 

“So what’re we gonna watch?” I ask, shutting the car door behind me. 

“I figured Pineapple Express?” Jake offers. 

“Oh god, yes.” I agree excitedly. 

“Great movie.” Quil interjects. 

We begin watching the movie a little after 9:30. 

It starts off with a lot of laughs, but at one point I feel my eyes involuntarily opening and closing. 

My head bouncing up and down, fighting the urge of sleep. 

I wake up to hearing the sound of a guy talking to us, I just didn’t know who it was. I look over at the time, a little after 11:45-- the movie was over. We all fell asleep. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to see what’s going on. 

The man is tall, not as tall as Jacob but taller than Quil. He was just as buff as, if not more, Jake, bigger than Quil for sure. 

Jacob is still knocked out, able to sleep through anything just like I remember, and Quil was stirring awake. 

“Hey, assholes. You’re late. You were supposed to be at Sam’s at 11:30.” He scolds, throwing a pillow at Quil to finish the job of waking him up. 

“Oh shit, what time is it?” He wakes up, beginning to panic. 

“Embry and I are done. It’s your turn, but Embry can’t go to bed until your asses get up and take over. It’s your turn for patrol.” He throws another at Jacob. 

“Paul.” Quil said sternly, nodding his head over to me.

Paul looks over at me, realizing that I was in the room. 

They must’ve not known I was awake and listening. 

“Don’t wake her up.” Quil says quickly. 

“It’s okay, I’m up. I should probably get home anyway. Then you guys can go help your friend with whatever you have to.” I say, yawning. 

“And who are you, pretty lady?” Paul looks at me, smiling. 

“I’m (Y/N).” I smile back, trying not to blush at the compliment. 

“Oh shit, no way. I haven’t seen you in years, I couldn’t even tell in the dark. These guys talk about you all the time.” He smiles as he steps forward. 

I get up and give him a tired hug hello, noticing that he, too, feels hot like Quil and Jake. He also had the same tattoo as them, I wonder if the whole friend group had it. 

“You look great.” He smirks at me. 

“You got huge, too. What the hell happened to all of you?” I ask sleepily, laughing a bit. 

“Just a lot of working out, I guess. Even though I was massive before you left.” He elbows my side lightly. 

“Oh, Paul. You haven’t changed one bit, huh?” I joke. 

“Nope, guess not.” He says. 

“Jake, get up.” Quil says, shaking the boy in his sleep. 

“What?” He groans.

“Get up, pretty boy. You’re late.” Paul says, walking over to wake him up. 

“Oh shit.” He says, jumping out of the seat like his ass was on fire. 

“What are you guys helping him with so late?” I ask. 

“Uh, they’re helping him with some work around the house. A pipe is leaking, we tried to help, but Jacob and Quil are gonna fix it. Because we couldn’t. So, yeah.” Paul says, smiling at me. 

“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Text me in the morning, let me know a good time to come surprise Embry tomorrow.” I say, walking out of the house. 

“You got it. We’ll call you.” Quil hugs me goodbye, followed by Jacob. 

“I’m so glad to have you back, (Y/N).” Jacob smiles at me. 

“Me too.” I smile, walking out the door and leaving the house behind. Pulling away from his house I see them all walk outside, waving goodbye. 

 _________________________________

Word count: 2756

This is part one of the series I accidentally started today. I hope you all enjoy!

 I  II  III  IV  V  VI  VII  VIII  VIIII  X  XIR XIE  XII  XIII  XIV  XV XVI  XVII  XVIII  XIIII

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

rockstar!maurice's backstory time

maurice was born in 1962, the only child in his family. his family was very religious and extremely conservative, making an almost impossible environment for him, growing jo as a trans man especially. his parents' marriage was miserable and through his teen years he never felt loved, or anything but heavily stifled, as his parents refused to allow him to be who he was, controlled every aspect of his life they could, and tried to force him constantly into a life path he didn't want. he carried the entire family's emotional baggage on his shoulders and was never given room to breathe. he had to raise money to move out in secret, and cut communication with them entirely as soon as he did.

he had a few buddies at the time he'd been hanging out with without his parents' knowledge, a few punks and social rejects who taught him how to play guitar, and he made a name for himself as a goth musician.

due to his success, he ended up being scouted and offered a deal by a record label, which starstruck young maurice, hoping to make a new life, signed onto without realizing that... a lot of record labels can fucking suck. it lead him into a major decline as the record label began trying to forcibly change his musical style, independence, and just about everything about what he made to make his music more profitable, and his musical career began to become tied to his familial trauma as it was this idea of forcing him down and stifling him, and as the music he wrote began to become darker and darker with his mental decline and ptsd, they eventually tacked a songwriter onto him to do the work for him, completely snuffing out his originality and personal expression from his music.

so he got his label deal terminated, which cost him nearly all of his money. practically at rock bottom, living in a crappy, unfurnished studio apartment, basically drowning in his ptsd and depression, he nearly died. he had barely enough money for both food and bills, and couldn't even try to account for things like antidepressants or a therapist, or medical transitioning even though that had been his goal from the beginning. he'd known of a few artists who'd died in this state without the money to survive, and had even been friends with someone who'd ended up similarly dead.

it was a risk he'd taken with the termination, but after about a year of barely scraping by, he started playing again, both as an outlet and a stream of income, one more attempt at this new life that finally worked.

with a few others in a similar musical style to him, he started a band, and they made it pretty big and played for a long time until maurice's wife died. maurice retired a while later, with another bandmate of his taking his place, and maurice raised his son- millie's father- alone into adulthood. not too long after maurice leaves, though, his group disbands without him.

now at sixty, maurice has certainly calmed down, but still owns a lot of old records of his and his band's music, and the love for music he had then.

one night, millie, while searching his house, comes across a room with a ton of crates of records, cds, and cassettes, many listed for the same band name. there are also a lot of papers with what look like song lyrics and guitar tabs written out, a guitar covered in faded stickers from different concerts, and a record player and stereo. out of curiosity, she puts one of the cds, listed as being from the 90s, into the stereo, and immediately recognizes the voice of the lead singer as her grandpa. she goes back through the few cds, then the cassettes and vinyl, and discovers it's all her grandfather's music. this is what inspires her musical career.

just like maurice, millie starts on her own, but not for very long before dylan joins her. maurice gives her advice on how to avoid his mistakes and is extremely protective of her and dylan from the music industry, but fully supportive of the choices they make in order to be happy with what they're getting from their work.

a lot of people want to see maurice come back, but maurice tells them he's lost his fiery spirit. he had a rough life, but he's settled down, and he wants to stir broth. /ref

i love what you have going on in your au with his rival and everything but until i develop the active drama of the au more i cant say i have any interesting shit like that going on here lmao

I absolutely love your design for him, he is my son and I love him sm <33333333

He's also settled down in my Rockstar!AU, but he's still somewhat active in the music scene because of his mentoring of Millie and Dylan.

In universe I imagine that songs from "Hotel Diablo" were made by Maurice after the death of his wife, but when Millie was born he felt a sense of purpose in his life once again, and made "Tickets To My Downfall". I also imagine that the ending to "twin flame" from mainstream sellout was a lullaby that he sang to Audrey when she was little, and then Millie when she was born (even better MGK dedicates that part of the song to his daughter during the live performance, and I just- <333333)

Also "love race" is a duet between him and Dylan when he first takes Dylan under his wing, and "bloody valentine" was one of his first songs for his wife, that he later remasters years later when Millie and Sarah start dating

Basically my Rockstar!Maurice is an elderly MGK lol

[paladin-lynx]

SquipJere Week 2020, Day 3: Dance Dance Revolution

@squipjerebmc’s SquipJere Week 2020 Day 3: Dance Dance Revolution

Ships Involved: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip/SquipJere), Jake Dillinger x Christine Canigula (UpStage/ChrisJake), Jeremy Heere x Brooke Lohst (Puppy Love)

Setting: Canonverse, set in the time interval between “Loser Geek Whatever” and “Halloween”.

Trigger/Content Warnings: Implied child abuse; non-graphic mentions of vomiting; kissing and mentions of kissing

Author’s Notes: I actually had no ideas for this one at first, and then it turned into my longest piece so far for the week! I love DDR and games like it, so this was really fun to write, even if a lot of it is set-up. Enjoy!

Jeremy could only put off hanging out with Rich for so long. For someone who was once so eager to grab Jeremy and stuff him into a locker that was much too small for him, now Rich was way too enthusiastic about meeting up with Jeremy outside of school.

Unfortunately, it was still too early in their ‘friendship’ – could they really call it that? Was it possible to be friends with the guy who had been bullying you constantly for the past two years? – for Jeremy to feel comfortable going over to Rich’s house. Besides, he didn’t want to have to deal with Rich’s dad, who seemed like a nightmare. Jeremy would rather not have a beer bottle thrown at his head or be accused of being Rich’s secret boyfriend. Despite all the torment Rich had put him through, Jeremy couldn’t help feeling a bit bad. He could tell through their connection that Rich definitely didn’t have an easy time at home. Jeremy’s dad was an embarrassment at worst, but Rich’s was dangerous at worst, and nobody deserved that.

So instead of hanging out after school, Jeremy suggested that they do something on a Saturday. Rich, from what Jeremy could glean, tended to spend his weekends out of the house, usually with Jake. And Jeremy wasn’t exactly familiar with the ‘cool places’ in town they could go to, so he left that decision up to Rich and just prayed it would be something he could handle. There were only a handful of places that he ventured out to when he ventured out at all: the park, the old dumpy arcade, the grocery store, and the mall. The rest of town, despite living here for sixteen years, was something of a mystery to him.

Rich would definitely pick a place that would help Jeremy be deemed as cool, because Rich was cool. And Jeremy bet that Rich’s SQUIP was helping him pick, if it was anywhere near as bossy as his own.

So it came as a surprise to Jeremy when Rich said they should hit up the local Dave & Buster’s. It was like the old dumpy arcade, except less old and dumpy.

Jeremy’s SQUIP didn’t have anything against it, so plans were made. But of course because Rich was going, Jake was going and bringing Christine along. And because Jake was going, Chloe was going. And because Chloe was going, Brooke was going. And because Brooke was going, Jenna was going.

So suddenly this casual hangout with Rich felt a lot more daunting. Because it was no longer just with Rich, who was more than enough on his own for Jeremy to handle.

Nonetheless, the SQUIP urged him not to bail out. “That won’t look good at all,” it warned. “And this is your chance to be in an environment where your…geekier interests and their popular tastes overlap. You can’t give up this opportunity.”

And so Saturday came. The SQUIP convinced Jeremy to eat something before he left despite Jeremy feeling like if he put anything into his stomach, it would immediately come right back up. But by some miracle – or a certain supercomputer’s influence – he managed to get down a half-decent meal, and then off he went. The SQUIP told Jeremy to take his father’s car, since it was highly unlikely the man would notice, and it was of course more convenient than waiting for a bus or having to pay for an Uber.

Jeremy had never actually been to this place before, although from what he could recall it was relatively new. Or maybe it wasn’t, and he just hadn’t cared to notice it because he and a certain hoodie-loving ex-friend of his preferred the local arcade, even if it was more run-down and much less crowded. Or maybe that was why they preferred it.

Because as Jeremy set foot into Dave & Buster’s, he was immediately overwhelmed by the blaring music, the bright neon lights of the countless games, and the crowd of people mulling about.

“Oh God…” he mumbled, feeling his stomach turn.

The SQUIP flickered into existence beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s a Saturday,” it reminded. “This was bound to be the busiest day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? I don’t…do big groups of people, you know that!”

“Maybe it’s time to change that. It may benefit you to have an audience.”

“An aud—”

“Heere!” Jeremy’s protest was cut off by a familiar voice and he turned to see Rich bounding up to him with the rest of the popular kids in tow. Great, he was the last to arrive, but maybe he could brush it off as being fashionably late, even though he was pretty sure he was actually a few minutes early. And it was then that Jeremy also realized that he had been speaking out loud to his SQUIP, and he received a small fizzle of static against his back as a reminder to think at the supercomputer while he was around his new group of apparent friends.

“Uh, hey, Rich,” Jeremy returned, fighting back the urge to smack himself for how lame of a greeting that was. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were all here already. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

Rich shrugged. “Nah, it’s chill. We were just wandering around checking out all the games.” He grinned and elbowed Jake in the side. “Jakey D here tried to use his fake ID at the bar and got caught.”

Jake’s cheeks flushed and he lightly shoved at Rich. “Only because you look like you’re still in middle school!”

Brooke covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “It was only because Christine apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again that he didn’t get himself kicked out.”

Christine smiled shyly. “I wouldn’t want the day ruined before it even started…Besides, who drinks this early in the day anyway?”

The others laughed, to Jake’s chagrin, and Christine absolutely beamed as it sunk in that she’d said something they actually found funny. Well, Chloe wasn’t really laughing, but she was hyper-focused on her phone – with Jenna not-so-subtly trying to snoop over her shoulder – so she might not have even been paying attention. Jeremy realized this place probably wasn’t really her particular speed, but she had come along because, of course, she had to keep tabs on Jake. They weren’t back together, were they? Jake looked like he was still very much with Christine. Or at least ‘courting’ her, if they weren’t actively dating.

And speaking of courting, Brooke chose that moment to saunter over and peck Jeremy on the cheek, making his face warm. “We’re glad you made it, though,” she told him. “And that we didn’t get thrown out and end up leaving you here alone!”

“Ah…” Jeremy gave a nervous chuckle and a little bashful smile. “Y-yeah, I’m glad you didn’t get kicked out. So, uh, what should we do first?”

And off they went. There was a good mix of kids and adults enjoying their Saturday, so Christine made a polite request that they watch their language – which was reiterated after Jeremy beat Rich in air hockey and gave a loud “oh fuck you, tall-ass!”, although Jeremy was pretty sure that the insult was actually more teasing than anything else. It had been quite a match to watch, considering they obviously both had their SQUIPs assisting them. Jeremy tried not to focus on the fact that his SQUIP had laid its hand on top of his to alter his movements when necessary.

Some of the games were rather well-known titles while others were so obscure Jeremy couldn’t help wondering if Michael would know them. They made their way around the entire collection, and to his own surprise Jeremy found himself actually having fun. He was better at the more classic arcade-style games but he still gave the rest a fair shot. Christine, who didn’t seem like she dabbled in video games very much at all, found out she was rather good at Temple Run and some knockoff version of Whac-A-Mole. Rich and Jake of course went right for all the shoot-‘em-up games where they could pretend to blow the heads off of zombies. Jenna was actually pretty talented at the various trivia and timing games, although Jeremy supposed that came from years of sticking her nose into everything. He was pretty sure Chloe didn’t touch a single game in the time they were there, and at one point Brooke tried to drag Jeremy into one of the enclosed games – it was a haunted house or something – to make out, to which he turned bright red and, despite the SQUIP’s insistence in the back of his mind, told her that they shouldn’t abandon the others or they’d get upset.

Jeremy was pretty sure after a couple of hours that they’d gone through almost every game in the building and he was about to suggest that maybe they grab snacks or something, but then Christine suddenly perked up and pointed. “What’s that one?”

They all turned – Jeremy thought he even saw Chloe glance up from her phone – to see a tall game station with a metal platform in front of it, and on the platform were brightly colored arrows.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Is that DDR?”

Jeremy frowned and glanced around at the others before stepping forward to get a better look at the game. “No, I think it’s a knockoff,” he replied, looking up at the top of the cabinet. There was definitely a name there that wasn’t Dance Dance Revolution but it was in too many eye-straining fonts for him to actually make out what it said. His gaze swiveled back down to the arrows on the platform. “DDR has the arrows going left, right, up, and down, but these ones are on the corners.”

He realized a beat too late that implying he had played DDR before was probably not something he should divulge to the cool kids, but when he looked around for his SQUIP, he found it giving him a little smile and nodding in approval.

Before he could react, though, he felt a hard nudge at his back and turned around to see Rich snickering. “Well, go on, tall-ass! Dance for us!”

“What?” Jeremy immediately sputtered in a way he was positive was uncool and his face went bright red. “I-I’m not gonna dance!”

Chloe smirked at him, lowering her phone – why did she have to lower her phone now of all times? – and put a hand on her hip. “Come on, Jere. Since you seem to know about this kind of game.”

Brooke giggled. “It’ll be fun, Jer-bear.”

Christine clasped her hands together, grinning at him, her eyes almost shining. “I’d love to see how you dance, Jeremy.”

Jeremy’s gaze flicked around to each of them and he suddenly felt very cornered, sweat slipping down the back of his neck. However, a wave of calm swiftly fell over him and he released a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. He peeked to the side and saw the SQUIP standing there, giving him a confident smile.

It reached up to gently tap Jeremy’s nose, which felt more like a tiny spark of static. “Come on, dear,” it purred. “Let’s dance.”

He knew there was no getting out of it now, so he sighed, pushing his hair back and shaking his head. “It’s not as if these games actually look like dancing,” he muttered as he plodded up to the platform. “They look more like your legs are spazzing out.”

The rest of the group quickly crowded around, eagerly watching as Jeremy stepped onto the arrows to activate the game and pull up the song list. He could almost feel the confusion as they looked over the options.

“What are these?” Jenna huffed out.

“It looks like Japanese,” Jake commented, tilting his head as if that would help him read the foreign characters better. Or maybe Jake could understand Japanese; Jeremy wouldn’t be surprised, considering how much Jake threw himself into extra skills at school.

Jeremy decided it was better to hold his tongue than admit that he actually did recognize some of these as covers of Vocaloid and Touhou songs. He was pretty sure a few on the list were actually Korean and not Japanese, but he didn’t recognize them regardless. He tapped his foot against one of the arrows to scroll through and see if anything looked particularly interesting.

The SQUIP suddenly held up a hand and Jeremy found himself frozen in place, blinking at the screen. The song title was in Japanese, but upon hearing the rhythm and a few of the words in the preview snippet, he recognized it as a Touhou song, although not one he knew well enough to recall the name of. And it sounded like a remix, nonetheless.

“‘Four Seasons of Loneliness,’” the SQUIP translated, smirking sideways at him. “Pick this one.”

Why?

He got his answer from Brooke: “Sounds hard and fast.”

Ignoring the snicker from Rich at the obvious joke, Jeremy selected the song and was about to begin the game when the SQUIP once again stopped him. With yet another smirk, it upped the difficulty to the max and Jeremy had to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Damn, look at you, J-Man, all confident!” Jake whistled, and Jeremy felt his blood run cold.

I’m going to embarrass myself, he lamented as he confirmed his selection and the loading screen came on. Not only was the difficulty at its highest, but it was set so that he’d have to use every arrow, not those just designated for a single player on one side of the two-player platform.

“No, you won’t,” the SQUIP soothed, appearing in front of him and taking his hands. Jeremy couldn’t help blushing as those familiar cool fingers curled around his already sweaty hands. “Just let me do all the work.”

Jeremy had thought that the SQUIP wanted him to become more independent. Then again, it had also recited his lines for him during play rehearsal so he didn’t have to take the time to memorize them. Maybe this was along the same lines. But this wasn’t going to be like when the SQUIP had led him in a slow waltz – honestly, he wasn’t even sure it had been a waltz, he didn’t know shit about dancing – around the imaginary Hogwarts Great Hall. This was going to be quick-paced – the BPM had been 178 and while Jeremy wasn’t a music expert, he was pretty sure that was fast – and in front of an audience.

So that was what it had meant earlier.

You predicted this, didn’t you? he accused, heart jumping as the first beats of the song came on.

The SQUIP laughed. “Perhaps. Now let’s give your new friends a show.”

The song opened and Jeremy felt like he couldn’t move, frozen with fear like a prey animal, but then suddenly the SQUIP gave his hands a little squeeze and his entire body started moving on its own. It wasn’t the first time the SQUIP had stepped in to autopilot his body but it had never been to move around like this.

He had to make sure to restrain himself from looking too surprised, because as far as the others knew – except for maybe Rich – he was doing this all on his own. So he just swallowed the lump in his throat and let his feet fly across the platform, hitting every arrow in perfect time. When he was on one side of the platform and had to get to an arrow all the way on the other side in less than a millisecond, he was suddenly over there, which he didn’t think would be possible. Even if someone was controlling his body, he was still in no way built to be a dancer. Or at least, a cool and popular one.

He looked up at his SQUIP, who was still holding his hands and grinning widely at him. When Jeremy peeked down, he saw that the SQUIP’s feet were moving in time with his and, unlike when they’d slow-danced and the SQUIP had been dancing in front of him, now their feet blended together.

One of the others whistled and whooped from behind him. “Go, Heere!” Rich called, and Jeremy could feel his excitement buzz through their connection.

And despite his earlier nerves, Jeremy found himself breaking into a grin, adrenaline pumping through his veins. To the others it would seem like he was intently watching the screen, but he was truly just watching his SQUIP in absolute awe. He didn’t even need to know what arrows to press because by the time they popped up in the game, he was already there and moving on to the next arrow.

The SQUIP even let him show off a bit – although could it be considering ‘showing off’ if he wasn’t the one actually doing it? – and threw in a few spins and jumps for flare, earning him more cheers from his friends. He would think that this entire display would be considered rather dorky, but his body was moving so fast that even if the game was childish, his so-called dancing was too unreal for it not to be impressive.

All that existed in that moment was him and his SQUIP. Even the music, upbeat and catchy as it was, faded into the background. It wasn’t like he could understand the lyrics anyway. Jeremy had had moments before when he’d felt unusually close to the SQUIP – he knew, in reality, they were always close considering that the SQUIP was inside his brain – but there had only been a few moments these past few months where he’d really, truly felt in sync with his own personal supercomputer.

And he liked how it felt.

Before he knew it, the song was over and he found himself striking a pose. He realized he was soaked in sweat, but he barely felt winded, although he had a sneaking suspicion that that was the SQUIP’s doing. He looked up at the SQUIP once more, who smiled and stepped back, dipping down to press its lips to the back of Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy was absolutely dumbstruck at the small but notably warm fizzle of static against his skin, but then the SQUIP’s form blinked out of sight and Jeremy found himself staring at the screen with his mouth open in shock.

The last notes of the song faded and his score flashed onto the screen, a chipper female voice declaring, “Yeah, I knew you could do it!” There were quite a number of ‘Perfects’ but also a good mix of ‘Greats’ and ‘Goods,’ as if the SQUIP hadn’t wanted to make it seem like Jeremy had achieved the impossible on his first try at this obscure knockoff game.

He stumbled as Brooke suddenly crashed into him in an embrace. “Jeremy, that was amazing! I had no idea you could move like that!” She put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a somewhat messy kiss, making his cheeks burn, but he didn’t get the same fuzzy feeling in his chest that he’d gotten before, when the SQUIP had had his hand.

“Ah…” He smiled shyly once they’d broken apart for air and his chest heaved, the exhaustion from his dancing suddenly setting in. “Th-thanks. I just kinda…went for it.”

Jake grinned, flashing him a thumbs-up. “Looks like all that DDR and dancing alone in your bedroom didn’t go to waste, huh?”

Jeremy tried to come up with a retort, but he quickly realized that more than just his small gathering of friends was watching. Quite a few of the other patrons were looking at him, muttering to each other about how remarkable that had been. He even heard one little girl squeal, “I wanna dance like him!” which earned an amused chuckle from her parents.

Jeremy gently pulled away from Brooke, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, guys. Uh, you can stop staring now.”

It looked like the group wasn’t going to drop it any time soon, though, as they led him off to find a place to sit down. Jeremy couldn’t help peeking over his shoulder, expecting to see the SQUIP right by him as it usually was, but instead it had reappeared beside the dancing game, watching with a surprisingly fond smile as the little girl bounded over to the platform and started tapping away at the arrows.

Jeremy’s heart squeezed. Maybe he’d ask Rich if they could meet up here again at some point.

[ficsandbits]

The brothers helping M/C through a panic attack

Here’s a headcanon that nobody asked for but has been playing on my mind for a couple of days now ✌🏻🤷🏼‍♀️

Does give slight detail on panic attacks so I’ll be putting it under a keep reading for anyone that may be uncomfortable with the subject matter💕😌

Word count: 1512

As always comments and feedback is welcome and appreciated, I’m also open to writing any headcanon/scenario ideas that people might have💕

Enjoy xoxo✌🏻🌻💕

The ballroom was large and loud, lit with bright lights. Chatter and music clashed making the environment borderline unbearable. The ballroom became a stifling place, M/C becoming almost claustrophobic. They struggled to take a breath. There were too many people, it was too loud, too bright. Was everyone looking? Was M/C’s inability to breath going unnoticed. Oh why can’t they catch their breath. Tears began to well up in their eyes, a hand reaching blindly for the demon that stood next to them. They found a sleeve and turned desperately to gasp out, “I can’t get my breath.” 

Lucifer: he would be calm, not entirely understanding what was going on but having enough sense to guide you away from the crowd. He didn’t know what had caused this sudden behaviour but he knew an audience wouldn’t help. Taking you off to the side he would stand holding your shoulders gently, almost as if he could physically stop the shaking. He would offer up things in the hopes something would help. Need a glass of water? He’s gone and back before you know it. Need to sit down? He’s finding a seat or you’re going on the floor. Ultimately he opts to take you back to the house sending sharp glares to anyone that tries to come up to either of you. Of course he’ll text an apology to Diavolo saying you were taken by a sudden illness. He refuses to go very far from you in case you should need anything but he does sit at his desk getting some work done with you in his bed. 

Mammon: he’s only slightly freaking out. He feels the tight grip and once he realised it’s not only because of how good a time you’re having he’s in panic mode. He’s asking questions, completely forgetting you’re both currently in front of a group of practical strangers. He means well he really does but the questions draw attention which makes your panic attack worse. When you’re shaking hard enough to be struggling to stand on your own he’s dragging you away and straight home. Probably picked you up halfway there but honestly he doesn’t know what to do right now. Once back at the house he takes you straight to your own room, knowing that what you need right now is comfort and stability. He asks if you can change yourself and won’t bat an eyelid if you say you need help changing. Your in your comfiest pyjamas and a comfortable position in 10 minutes flat. If you’re okay with it he’s holding you, curled protectively around you stroking your hair and murmuring comfort into your ear. 

Leviathan: he gets it. Spots it right away and is taking you outside before you even say anything. He’s sat you down near the water hoping the sound and visuals will be more calming than inside the ballroom. He goes back in to grab you a glass of water, reappearing quickly. Makes sure you’re taking small sips and slow breaths. He has definitely been in this situation before. Crowds weren’t his thing and more often than not he ends up outside in a panicked heap. He’s glad he can be there to help you out in times like this, knowing that trying to struggle through this alone makes things so much worse. He’ll sit close to you if you need a grounding force, if not he’ll still sit but a little away. Either way he’s talking to you. When he’s not rattling off TSL facts he’s asking you to name things. What did you have breakfast this morning? Can you see any fish in the pond? Once you’ve calmed enough to have less shakes and your breath has evened out he’s taking back to the house for a night of games and movie marathons in comfort.

Satan: he’s concerned but one of the more calm. Will shoot off a couple of questions before realising that what you really need is to leave. So that’s what you do. He’s holding you up, half dragging you away from the crowd and back to the house. Once home he takes you to the common area. He gives you a large mug of tea, the warmth and aroma something he hopes will soothe your gentle shakes. If you’re struggling to hold the cup he puts it close enough that the smells are still reaching you. He counts out breaths for you as he goes searching the shelves for a book. Once you’re shakes are down and your breath is back to a relatively even pace he sits next to you, gently guiding your head to his lap. He begins reading to you, his voice soft and soothing as he runs a hand through your hair. Eventually he lulls you to sleep and carries you to bed, deciding to spend the night with you in case you need him.

Asmodeus: He was across the room chatting and flirting when he saw the beginnings of your panic attack. He wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong but knew you well enough to know that wasn’t usual behaviour. He was by your side in a second, tugging you off to a quieter part of the castle. When he sees how hard you’re shaking and the struggle it is for you to catch a breath he has no hesitation sitting the both of you down on the floor. He stays close to you as always, resting your head on his shoulder and tapping out a steady rhythm on your thigh to help ground you. He takes your hand after a while and gets you you copy his rhythm on his own thigh. You sit there for a long while before you’re completely calm. He’ll ask if you wanted to go back in and enjoy the rest of the ball. If the answer is yes he doesn’t leave your side all night, a firm hand always on you constantly tapping out your rhythm. If you need to leave he’s up and holding you close as you leave. Once home he runs a hot bath making sure to use his best bath bombs and the most relaxing scents. He’s happy to join or leave you to it whatever makes you the most comfy.

Beelzebub: like Asmodeus, he isn’t actually with you when you’re panic attack started. He didn’t really notice until he went to look for you, hoping to share a nice cake he thought you might like. Once he found you he wasn’t sure what to do. He could hear you’re frantic breaths and he stood shocked for a second. He was snapped out of it by your tightening grip on his arm. He looked around seeing how many people were around the two of you before picking you up to carry you home. It may not have been the wisest move but all he could think at that moment was that he needed to get you to safety. Once safely in your room he places you down so delicately on the bed, scared the slightest jostle would break you completely. He sat in front of you, your hands clasped and you truly couldn’t tell who was holding on tighter. Beel hates seeing you like this and he’s scared he can’t help you. He talks to you as normally as he can. His thumb rubs in a repetitive circular motion as he tells you about the foods he’d eaten that night. His hunger was completely forgotten for the time being, his sole focus on making sure you’re okay and calm. Once he was sure your breathing was coming at a better pace he climbed into the bed. If you were okay with it he was spooning you, your hand still tightly clasped in his. If you couldn’t handle him being close he would lie facing you, reaching his hand across the mattress to keep a tight grip on yours throughout the night.

Belphegor: he was truly oblivious to your laboured breathing. He was stood next to you but not really paying attention to what was going on around him. He felt your tug but ignored the urgency choosing instead to look lazily towards you. His eyes widened when he took in your pale sweating face. He felt his own panic rise, needing to get both of you out there. He didn’t rush like the others but did make sure that they left straight away. Once home he changed both of you into comfy clothes, noticing your shaking hadn’t stopped but you were no longer sweating as much. He laid down and angled you so your head was placed over his heart. He made his breaths deliberately deep and slow. The steady beat of his heart helped to ground you and his deliberate breaths made you more aware of your own, making it so you could follow and take your own deep breaths. Once he’s satisfied you’ve calmed enough he brings blankets and pillows around you creating a nest for the two of you to crash in.

[dreamerfae]

Two Night Stand

Summary: Touka woke up naked in a house belonging to a stranger named Haise and found herself stuck with him for the next 24 hours due to a snowstorm. How will they spend the time?

Word count: 7807

Rating: Mature 

Genre: Alternate Universe - Human

Notes: WARNING MATURE THEMES. NO SMUT, BUT IMPLIED! READ AT YOUR RISK.

Waking up with a groan, Haise rose from the bed and winced as his eyes tried to adjust to the brightness of his room. It was only morning and his head hurt like hell. He felt some rustling of the bedsheets and blankets and looked to his side. What the..?

A woman with violet hair, bangs covering one side of her face sat up in bed and stared at him with equal shock.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

"Uh—"

From her naked shoulders, his eyes strayed down to her exposed torso. He quickly tossed the blanket at her, face flushed red. "First, cover up!" He exclaimed, trying his best to exercise his gentleman trait and looked away.

She didn't catch the blanket in time and it hit her head. "What the?!" Looking down at her naked body, realization struck her that she was completely naked in a stranger's bed and he was just trying to be considerate, not rude. Cheeks burning, she wrapped herself with the blanket and looked around the room to find her clothes strewn all over the floor.

Touka raised her head and caught a glimpse of his backside as he pulled up his banana boxers. She stifled a giggle at the ridiculous design and couldn't help but let out her thoughts. "That's a silly design for underwear."

He looked at her with shock and astonishment. "Don't laugh! This boxer with bananas is my favorite design!"

The woman laughed and he could only stand there and burn in embarrassment because she was making fun of his boxers. The laughter finally ceased and then a loud rumble filled the room. The female flushed, hands going to rest over her stomach.

It was his turn to laugh and she reacted by throwing a pillow angrily at him. Even so, he laughed until his tears fell.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Sasaki Haise. What's your name?" He leaned over and put out his hand.

Cheeks blushing, she shook his hand. "Kirishima Touka."

What was this situation? They were shaking hands and introducing themselves when they were both partially or fully naked. Touka wanted to laugh.

He put on his pants and shirt. "Let's get changed and have some lunch. Then, we can talk, alright?"

Her stomach growled in agreement.

—

After putting their clothes in the washing machine and changing into a new set of clothes, Touka sat at the dining table with a hot cup of coffee in front of her. She noted the heavy snow outside the window and shivered. No wonder it was cold. Sipping her coffee, she sighed, grateful how a warm beverage, plus a painkiller, brought her back to life.

"Is omelet rice okay for you?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Touka watched how he cooked from behind and marveled at the broad shoulders he had. He must work out a lot to get those wide shoulders and biceps. It was slight, but they strained against his white shirt and she snapped out of her trance when he walked towards her with 2 plates of rice and put it down on the table.

They ate in awkward silence. Putting the dishes away once they were done, they sat facing one another.

"Okay.  Let's take some time to remember what happened last night to lead to what's happening right now." Haise said.

-Flashback-

Haise winced at the loud music in the nightclub and the moving rainbow spotlights that blinded his eyes. Everywhere he walked, there were people dancing, shouting and laughing. He questioned his decision in following his best friend to this shady place, where he could be at home right now reading a good book with a good cup of coffee.

As Hide had quoted, "You work too much, Haise! You need to get out and get a life! Get a girl or two!"

Not wanting to dance nor socialize with anyone, he ended up sitting at the bar alone while Hide went somewhere with a blonde-haired woman. He ordered a whiskey and sighed heavily as he stared down at his drink, thinking of excuses to give Hide so he could go home.

"Party pooper much? Everyone's out there having fun while you're sighing here."

He turned to the lady beside him and squinted his eyes to observe her features. He couldn't tell what color her hair and eyes were from the dark environment, but he knew they were dark. Her bangs covered one side of her face and she had the most amused look in her eyes.

Despite being the absolute gentleman in every way, he was in no mood for games.

"Says the one who's sitting at the bar alone. What's a pretty girl like you doing alone?" He asked, sipping his drink.

She laughed—a sound too soft because of the booming music. "Touché. My friend dragged me here without my consent so here I am, alone. Would the lonely gentleman treat me to a drink?" Her eyes narrowed seductively.

One end of his lips quirked. He knew she was flirting with him and bought her a drink anyway. Her eyes watched how she put her pink lips to the glass and drank, the drink going down her slim throat. "Name's Touka, what's yours?"

"Haise."

The rest was history, as they got completely drunk, took a cab back to his house and slept with one another drunkenly.

-Flashback Over-

Their faces paled as the memory returned to them and they bowed their heads in embarrassment.

"I shouldn't have drunk that much alcohol. I don't know what happened to me that night. I rarely even drink." Touka groaned.

Haise sighed. "Me neither... so we actually did it? A one night stand?"

She hesitated. "..I don't remember a thing."

"Me neither."

Silence filled them and Touka shifted uncomfortably because she just lied to his face. The truth is, she just remembered the sex they had last night, but only vaguely. They were in bed, and she recalled him being atop her,  his cheeks red, face twisting in pleasure as he moved above her. She couldn't remember whether the sex was good or anything else for that matter until she woke up in his bed this morning.

"Well, this is awkward. Can we just put this behind us and pretend nothing happened? It was just one night, no commitment or anything right?" Touka asked nervously.

"Y-yeah, we should."

Another beat of silence fell over them.

Touka stood up and grabbed her clothes. "Alright, it was nice meeting you and I should be going now."

"Ah sure." Haise stood up as well, guiding her to his main entrance and opened the door for her like a gentleman. He smiled. "See you."

She smiled and thanked him before stepping out. The door closed behind her and she shivered at the cold air. Putting on her coat, she left the building and found herself stopping because the snow from the previous night piled up too high until it reached her knees.

She noticed how weird it was when there wasn't a single car nor bus moving on the streets and no one was outside. The wind was blowing too strongly, with the snow falling against her face and she sneezed. It's too cold!

Suddenly, she heard Haise calling for her from behind.

"Wait! It's a snowstorm outside! The news said transport isn't working! You need to come back inside and see the news!" Haise panted.

The door shut behind them and they ran to the living room, where the television was announcing that the snowstorm was expected to last for the whole of today and if things become better, transport will be resumed the next morning. Thankfully, it was only Saturday and they didn't have work.

Touka fidgeted and felt weird to ask a stranger—whom she had slept with—for a favor and found it difficult to meet his eyes. "..do you mind letting me stay at your house at least until the snow lets up?"

She didn't expect his face to brighten, and a grin to grace his lips. "Sure! It's been since I've had someone else over at my house. I'm so excited!"

"R-right... do you think I could get a shower first? I... feel sticky." She trailed off, cheeks burning.

Realizing why she was sticky, his cheeks warmed. The previous night, they had done unspeakable things. "Y-yeah, sure. I'll grab a towel and guide you to the bathroom."

—

Feeling refreshed after a warm bath, she sighed in relief and wrapped her hair up in a towel. She noticed Haise sitting on his bed awkwardly and nudged him. "You should take a bath too."

"Um sure, you can watch some television if you're bored. I have books also if you're into reading. I'll be back real quick!"

He grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the toilet. She found herself chuckling. He was acting so nervous in front of someone he had already slept with. Well, she couldn't blame him, it was weird for a night stand relationship to be extended. It usually just ends with one night, hence the term 'one-night stand'.

But since they were going to be stuck with each other for another day, she thought why not just try getting along with him? It's better than ignoring each other for the whole day.

—

"So um, do you have anything we can do to kill the time? You know since we're stuck until the transport is back up?" Touka asked, shoving her hands into the pockets of the sweatpants that he lent her. His clothes looked oversized on her but she couldn't complain, it was the only clothes available.

Haise pondered. "Well... I have a pool table, a Wii and XBOX console, a foosball table and some movies we can watch. Which do you want to do first?"

She stared jaw open, dumbfounded at what he had just said. "Excuse me? Aside from the movies and Wii and Xbox, why do you have a foosball and pool table? Your place feels like an arcade.."

He laughed, a sweet melody to her ears. "My best friend always comes over to my house and he likes these games so I bought them so we can play whenever he was over. We split the money anyways. Personally, I just read my books. So which one?" He looked expectantly at her for her answer.

"You rich as hell." She mumbled and his eyes crinkled at her comment. "Let's play Xbox and Wii?"

"Okay."

—

Touka looked through the selection of games; soccer, music, simulation, mystery, horror and chose fighting. Settling beside each other on the couch, she crossed her legs and leaned forward.

"Alright, I'll win this!" She exclaimed and they proceeded to battle it out with their chosen characters.

Haise found himself extremely amused at how she was so engrossed in the game and still can make lots of reaction while she was still playing, like 'shit' or 'no' or 'damn' or 'you're going down'. Despite all the sounds that come out of her, she still lost all 3 rounds against him.

She glared at him at the end and he shrugged—trying to hide his amusement. "I play these all the time, what do you expect? Do you want me to go easy on you?"

At his suggestion, her eyes hardened and she searched through the other games. "Let's play another game. I don't believe I can't beat you in any of the others!"

With what pretty appearance she had on the outside, he was surprised to find that she had a competitive trait inside. He rarely saw that in a woman and he was very interested to find out more about this woman whom he was going to spend the remaining day with.

Touka sighed heavily and dropped herself against the couch. She wanted to melt into the couch and never surface again. "I can't believe I lost all of the games! There's a limit to how good you can be at games!" She groaned.

He laughed. "I told you I can go easy on you but you didn't want me to."

She punched his arm. "No! I hate it when people do that! It's like they're looking down on me!"

"Then don't complain~"

Deep down, he wondered why he was acting so friendly and open with her. Was it because they were stuck together or because they had already slept together? Either way, even though they were just strangers and not a couple, he felt more comfortable with her than he did with actual girlfriends in the past—where he had to hold back his thoughts and words—despite knowing each other for only one night plus a few hours.

"Next game. Pool."

—

"So uh, tell me, Touka. Why were you at the night club that night?" Haise asked, adjusting all of the balls into the middle of the pool table before hitting them, making them spread all over the table.

Touka's eyes traced how he leaned over, positioned the stick in his hands and shot the ball into the hole with extreme accuracy and speed. "Well... I had just broken up with my boyfriend of 2 years and was feeling down. My friend brought me out to cheer me up."

"..sorry to hear that. Did you have fun?"

"Don't be. It isn't your fault that we broke up. He cheated on me, so I broke up with him. And yes, I had fun, thanks to you."

His smile didn't reach his eyes as he focused on the earlier part of her reply. Her boyfriend cheated on her. "..do you want to talk about your ex-boyfriend? I mean, we're stuck together for the next 24 hours, so the least I can do is lend a listening ear."

She smiled sadly. "Thanks, maybe at a later time."

He nodded and changed the topic. "Shall we do a quiz? We'll each state a topic or question and we answer at the same time. That way, we can get to know each other better."

Touka shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

He was 27, she was 26. He liked romance movies, while she liked action and horror. His favorite food is omelet rice and hers is beef rice bowl. He is an insurance agent and she is a physiotherapist. His hobbies were reading and cooking, her hobbies were listening to hard metal music and doing sports.

They exchanged playful talks over what they liked and disliked and all too soon, the pool game was over, leaving Touka pissed and unsatisfied.

"Why?!!!" She exclaimed and groaned. "I'm losing to you every time!!!"

Haise laughed. "I've been watching how you played for this game and now I know what are your faults. Let's play again, I'll teach you."

She sighed. "Fine..."

After setting the balls in the triangle in the middle, Touka took her stick and stared at him. "First, show me how you lean over to shoot the balls." He instructed and tried not to check out her butt as she leaned over and focused on her form.

Touka felt his body mold over hers, his hand taking her arm to properly position it the right angle and way, and his breath was warm in her ear. "Your arm needs to be further from your head and your fingers should be like this." His hand covered hers, forming it to the position that guaranteed a win but somehow she could only think about how his body felt comfortably against hers and how warm it was.

Together, they used the stick to hit the ball and Touka watched as it went into the hole. Standing up straight, she turned to him who had a huge grin on his face. "You did it!"

She found herself smiling as well and had a huge urge to tease him. "Don't tell me you purposely taught me that way just so you can feel me up?"

He blinked, and a full-blown blush formed on his cheeks and even his ears. "No! I just—I had good intentions! You saw how the ball went in!

She laughed and he stared, mesmerized at her laughter.  Wiping her tears away, she shoved him playfully with a grin. "I'm just joking, don't be so serious about it."

"Why would I need to feel you up when we've already done it last night..." he looked away, murmuring.

Now, she flushed. A sudden image of him reaching for her flashed in her mind. "You remembered what happened last night?"

His eyes widened. "No, I still don't remember. Do you?"

"..a little bit."

He started toward her, curious. "What do you remember?"

She flushed. "Don't ask me."

"Why? I want to know because I don't remember anything."

"It's embarrassing..."

"Just tell me."

She fidgeted. "I only remember how you were atop me and your naked chest, okay?!"

He came close to her and cupped her cheek. He had a beautiful pair of grey eyes that were hidden under his long eyelashes. "You're cute when you're shy."

The once friendly atmosphere changed into an intimately charged one. They were two adults, man, and woman, alone in the house, standing so close to one another that they could feel each other's body heat.

Her heart raced in her chest as she looked up at his handsome face and turned away. Why the hell was she having thoughts about this man being handsome when she's only known him for a night? She had just broken up with her boyfriend of 2 years for god's sake!

Haise's lips parted and the hand that was on her cheek moved to rest on his nape. "S-sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"..It's fine. Let's continue with the game."

—

Despite getting better at each game they played, Touka still couldn't win him, not because of her skills—she actually was a quick learner—but because she was too distracted by what had happened between them earlier.

She tried so hard to forget his touch but she couldn't remember the last time her ex-boyfriend had touched so gently and gazed at her that way, as Haise did. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she blinked them away.

Haise stared down at his hand and remembered how her skin flushed pink when he touched her. Thinking back, he could sense that she was thinking about the same thing he was and can't help but want to fill in the gaps of what happened between them in bed the previous night.

—

They ignored what transpired between them and continued playing games and chatting with each other as if they had been friends for 10 years. The inexistence of awkward moments made it feel like they didn't just meet the previous night.

Even over dinner, Touka felt herself slowly opening to Haise even though she normally didn't hit it off that well with strangers. Having shared one night and half the day with him, she felt comfortable with him and spoke to him like she would with her best friend. For the first time in ages, she felt happy that she was able to have someone other than Yoriko to speak with so frankly and comfortably with.

But even if she felt that way with Haise, spilling every detail about her life with him, she was careful to not touch on the topic of her ex-boyfriend because she didn't think she was ready to talk about it.

After dinner, they decided to watch movies.

"What? No! I don't want a romance movie! What's so interesting about them? There's no action, nothing! I want to watch an action movie!" Touka exclaimed.

Haise gasped in shock, astonished and offended by her comment about his favorite movie genre. "Excuse me!! Romance movies are interesting! They always start off with the 2 parties being strangers, slowly getting to know each other until the climax hits them when they finally realized that they love one another! That's the romantic and interesting part! How dare you say there's nothing interesting about it! You're just saying that 'cause you've never watched one!"

She scoffed. "I've watched one and I didn't like it. Romance movies are for babies and those who want to see happily ever after that won't happen in reality."

Silence filled the air as she cursed herself for speaking more than necessary. Her words were obviously directed to her own relationship which didn't end well.

Thankfully, he didn't ask about the reason she said those words and suggested, "how about this? I'll watch with an action movie with you, and you'll watch a romance movie with me. That way, it'll be fair for both of us. Good?"

"..okay," Touka shrugged, not completely happy with his suggestion but didn't argue.

—

The action movie was dusted and done, with a huge grin appearing on Touka's face when he told her he enjoyed it. The next was a romance movie. It was only until it ended with a happy ending (thankfully) and he turned it off that he saw how she had her head down in the knees she pulled up.

Worried, he shook her. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him for a second, where he saw the tears in her eyes and she ran to the kitchen to get a cup of water. "I'm fine."

Though her back was toward him and trying to hold her sounds in, he could tell that she was shaking from her crying. Immense regret filled him as he realized he shouldn't have insisted on a romance movie when she had just broken up with her boyfriend. He was horribly tactless.

He walked towards her and gently tugged her so she faced him. Cupping her cheek, he tilted it so they met eyes. "Hey... if this is about the movie, I'm sorry I chose a show that you didn't enjoy. If this is about your ex-boyfriend...I'm here if you want to talk..."

Her lips trembled as more tears fell down her lovely blue eyes. "It's just...I used to believe in happy endings, where a relationship led to a wedding and happily ever after. I was really expecting Haruki to propose to me since we've been dating for quite some time. But I knew something was up when he started distancing himself from me and how he always postponed our dates, saying that he had work... I should have seen it coming but I believed in him. When I saw him at his home fucking another woman, it became clear that he had been cheating on me with her for a long time now. I broke up with him because I didn't think I could take any more of that."

Haise wiped her falling tears and his heart ached for her. No one deserved to see their loved one cheating with their own eyes. His mind could only come up with one sentence.

"If I were your boyfriend, I would never make you cry."

She stared up at him with wide eyes and he stepped back after realizing that he had just said his inner thoughts out loud. He dropped his hands to his sides and panicked. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't—"

The ends of her lips turned up into a smile and she wiped a stray tear. "You're a nice person, aren't you? Thank you for saying that. I appreciate it, even though you may not mean it."

"That's not—I do mean those words!"

She only smiled in response and he knew she didn't believe him.

"Can I then take advantage of your kindness and ask you for a favor?"

"As long as it's within my abilities, I will do it."

He was willing to do anything to help her. He just didn't want to see her miserable anymore. Anything to make her stop crying.

"Kiss me."

He hesitated before cupping her cheek and leaning forward until his bangs tickled her face.

"..are you sure?"

She nodded. "Please."

His arms came around her in an embrace and her heart raced in her chest. His lips rested gently on hers and her eyes fluttered shut. Parting her lips slightly, she allowed him to deepen their kiss but he didn't. He never ventured into her mouth, only gently sucking on her lips.

Caressing his cheek, Touka smiled. "You're sweet."

"Why do you say that?" He asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because you didn't do anything I didn't want. Even if I gave my permission, you didn't give it to me. I wanted to ask you to give me hard and hot sex, but I'm sure you wouldn't give it to me, would you?" She joked.

His cheeks flushed red. "No, I wouldn't. No woman deserves to get that, especially not you, because you don't deserve just sex, you deserve making love with feelings. I mean... unless the woman has specific hobbies in bed..." he trailed off.

"Are you just saying that because I broke up with my boyfriend?"

"No. I'm saying because it's you."

His words warmed her. She wished she could have met him before Haruki. He seemed like a good man who would take care of her. But then again, Haruki seemed that man at that time. People change over time.

"Then, would you give it to me? Make love to me, with feelings?"

He hesitated. "I...I don't think I should even if you asked. It's not the right gentlemanly thing to do as your feelings are not in order after a breakup... You're upset and you're making decisions that you may regret after."

She rested her head on his chest. "I promise you I won't regret it. Please."

He swallowed and seemed to struggle with his feelings for a while before taking her hand into his. "Let's go to my room."

— After —

Pulling Touka into his arms, Haise pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

His sweet gesture and words brought tears to her eyes and he immediately panicked. "I'm sorry! I didn't know I was that bad in bed, did it hurt—"

She held his hand to her cheek and smiled. "You were great. It was everything I dreamt of. I feel so happy that you touched me so gently as if I was beautiful and worth it."

His gaze softened. "That's because you are. You deserve better than Haruki."

A sad smile formed on her face. "I guess that's true. Can I ask you for another favor? I promise it isn't that bad."

"What is it?"

"For the remaining time until I leave, will you treat me as your real girlfriend? I just want to be feel loved..."

Haise couldn't refuse the sorrow and loneliness in her eyes and kissed her. "And love you shall get... I accept your request."

--

"I'm sure a handsome guy like you have had girlfriends before. Tell me about them." Touka said, fingers tracing circles on his chest.

"I'm not handsome—"

Touka laughed. "Don't lie! You are!"

He grinned, happy that he made her laugh. She seems happier now. "Alright, in your eyes, I am, but believe it or not, I've only ever had 2 girlfriends."

"No way! Why?"

Haise shrugged. "I was busy with work previously and had no time for relationships."

"Did you love them?"

She was holding her breath for his answer.

"I would like to think I did. But in the end, when we broke up, strangely I didn't feel sad that it was over. Maybe I didn't love them as much as I thought. Thinking back, I should have spent more time with them. Maybe then, the relationship would have worked out. But it's too late to have regrets now anyway."

It was his words but Touka could see the sadness in his eyes. He probably said it to hide his feelings and make her feel better. She wouldn't have touched on this topic if she knew how sad it would make him. Her heart ached, and she didn't like seeing him unhappy.

She raised herself so he was beneath her, his wide eyes staring up at her, and she moved to kiss him. His arms wrapped around her waist as he kissed the column of her neck, making her sigh and she hoped that this would be enough to make him forget, just as he had made her forget about her sadness when they made love earlier on.

The first time they did it, it was filled with only warmth and gentleness. This second time, it felt raw and emotional, as if they were pouring out all of their sadness and feelings.

When it was all over, Haise frowned at the sweat that fell down his temples and turned to her. "I think I need a shower."

Touka sighed with a smile. "I do too."

Jumping out of bed, he pulled up his boxers and rushed over to catch her before she toppled to the floor with her wobbly legs. Grabbing his body tightly, she gave him an embarrassed smile. "I should have known that I won't be able to walk properly right after."

He grinned, showing his white teeth. "I'll help you to the bathroom. Do you need to put on your underwear?"

She glanced over at her underwear scattered all over the floor and shook her head. "Nope, gonna take them off in the shower later anyways."

--

After helping one another in washing hair and bodies, they settled comfortably into the bathtub with Touka's back against Haise's chest.

"..Do you feel better now? I mean, you seemed pretty sad when you talked about your ex-girlfriends." She asked, staring at the ripple of water in front of her.

He winced. "You noticed that? I was just trying to make sure my feelings didn't burden you, what with you having just broken up with your boyfriend."

Turning around, the water sloshed in the tub as she raised her hands to cup his cheeks. "You don't have to do that, you know. We've been together for the last 12 hours or so, and even seen each other naked already so I don't think there's much we can hide. Talk to me, just like how I confided in you."

He smiled and kissed her. "I will, thank you."

--

Haise stared at the sleeping beauty in his bed wearing his clothes and pushed her bangs aside, only to be amused when it fell back down to cover her face. She had long eyelashes, a small nose, and tempting pink lips.

It isn't surprising at this point, because he must have realized it earlier on that within a span of 12 hours, he had fallen in love with Touka. It probably started when she woke up in his bed with bed hair and further strengthened when she told him about her breakup. From there, the strong urge of wanting to do anything to make her happy blossomed into feelings of love.

He felt that he could make her happy. Staring at her now, he saw a future with her. Them laughing together, cuddling on cold nights, sharing a bed, doing house chores together, a ring on her fourth finger, a wedding with loved ones, and children. Greedily, even though he knew she was suffering now, he wanted all of that with her.

He took a few more moments to carve her face into memory since she was leaving tomorrow before falling asleep himself.

--

When it's time to leave the next morning, they stand at the door facing one another.

"Shall I send you to the train station?" Haise offered.

Touka smiled. "It's okay, I can walk. You've done so many things for me already. Thank you for your offer though."

Awkwardness filled the room now.

He struggled with whether he should tell her his feelings or not and decided it's now or never. After this, he'll probably never see her again. Gathering his courage, he closed his hands into fists and opened his mouth. "I like you, Touka. Will you be my girlfriend? For real? I know you still have feelings for Haruki but I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes. Even if you never stop loving him, I'm willing to be number 2 in your heart."

He waited expectantly for her answer and her heart broke when she already knew what she was going to say to him. "I appreciate your feelings, Haise, but there was never going to be something that comes out of this two-night stand. Yes, I still love Haruki and you don't deserve someone who can't cherish you properly. You need to find someone who can love you 100% and I can't be that person. I'm sorry."

Haise deflated and forced a smile. "I-I understand. Then, I wish you all the best in everything you do. I hope the next time I see you somewhere, you're happy. Thank you for the time we spent together. It was the most fun."

The most fun I'll probably have for the rest of my life.

She smiled. "Thank you. I had the most fun as well."

Silence.

He stepped forward. "C-can I kiss you one last time? A goodbye kiss?"

"Okay."

Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her and took this moment to edge into his memory the softness and strawberry taste of her lips, and the warmth of her body against his. He swore to never forget this ever.

It was a bittersweet kiss and both knew that the moment they separated, it would mean the end of their relationship and that they would never see each other again.

They separated and he quickly pulled her into a hug. "A goodbye hug," he murmured as he squeezed her tight.

Despite not wanting it to end, Touka had to put an end to it. She felt extremely emotional that she had to leave someone who made her feel comfortable to be around with and she would cry if she stayed any longer. "Okay. Then, it's goodbye."

Haise watched her give him a last smile before closing the door behind her. He dropped onto the bed, looked at the indent on his bed that Touka left behind and smelt her scent on the pillow. His eyes tear up and he already misses her when not even 5 minutes has passed.

—

1 month has gone since they last saw one another and loneliness has been a constant companion despite having family and friends with them.

Everywhere Haise went, he would look out for a short violet haired woman with bangs covering the side of her face, but to no avail. He slept with his arms around the pillow that carried her fragrance which faded each time he inhaled.

He would walk around in his house and recall the moments he spent with her there. The pool table, the television, the dining table. He was grateful that these memories were the only thing that kept him from breaking down completely.

Often, he tried to forget about her and move on with his life as if they had never met, but he just couldn't, not when his feelings for her are still present in his soul. He could only pray that she's well and is happy now.

—

Dropping onto her couch, Touka stared directly at the wall and found herself thinking about Haise. She shook her head to distract herself but no matter how she tried to forget him, she just couldn't get him out of her mind.

His kind, caring personality, his stupid jokes and smiles, and the warmth and comfort that his arms brought her. She had tried to form that same warmth by piling her bed with many pillows and hugging them, but she couldn't find the same warmth he gave her. She missed him with an ache that hurt her chest.

Her mind switched back to recall how Haruki had begged her to get back with him just a few days ago, stating that he couldn't live without her and to give him another chance. At first, she loathed the idea as she didn't want to get hurt again if he does something this time but then she just realized that this was her opportunity to find out whether she still truly loved him and he, with her.

But when he kissed her, she couldn't feel the little tingles and butterflies in her tummy, as compared to the first time they kissed. Back then, she was elated and didn't want it to end. But now, she felt nothing. Haruki used to kiss her so passionately but now the kiss didn't feel like it had any feelings.

Haise appeared in her mind and she thought back to how he kissed her so gently as if he was trying to express his true feelings for her and he also kissed her so passionately as if he hadn't seen her in a year and would die. That was the type of kiss she was looking for. Unfortunately, Haruki didn't have that anymore.

For the remaining of their date, she didn't have the excitement within her nor had the urge to continue it, as compared to what she used to have. Everything seemed dull and she must have been blindly in love to only realize now that Haruki is rude to shops' employees—something she can't overlook as she was once an F&B employee herself—and he only talks about himself in conversation. Haise was genuinely interested in what she had to say, unlike Haruki who brushed her off whenever she opened her mouth. He probably would be nice to employees as well.

In every way, Haise had won over Haruki and she was shocked that over the span of only 1 day, she had come to realize how good of a man Sasaki Haise was. Her eyes burned and heart raced. So the reason she felt so empty and lonely was that she loved Haise? It was why she could never forget about him and craved the warmth and comfort he gave her.

She ended her relationship with Haruki right then and there. Rushing to Haise's house, she prayed she wasn't too late.

—

Touka found herself at his doorstep once again and pressed the doorbell. Instead of Haise who opened it, a woman with long purple hair did. "Good afternoon, are you looking for someone?"

Her voice was shaky all of a sudden. This woman was so beautiful. What was her relationship with him if she was in his house? "I'm looking for Haise."

"Who's at the door, Rize—Touka..."

Haise's eyes widened before realizing how bad this situation looked to Touka. He was a half-naked man in the house—only in his long pants—with Rize—whom Touka does not know. Before she misunderstood, he needed to quickly clear her doubts.

Her face fell at the sight of both of them and she heard her heart breaking into pieces. She was too late, he had already moved on from her and had a beautiful long haired girlfriend. She cursed herself for not realizing her feelings for him earlier and came to see him earlier. Maybe then, she would actually have a chance to be with him.

Tears brimming in her eyes, she needed to leave before she broke down. Stepping back, her voice shook, "I-i see what's going on here, I'm sorry to interrupt."

He quickly grabbed her arm to stop her and she saw the desperation in his eyes. "Wait, Touka, I can explain!"

Rize stepped in to save him. "I'm his ex-girlfriend and no, we're not dating."

He gave her a thankful look and the beautiful lady smiled back to him.

"T-then, why..?" She whispered.

"Come in, and I'll explain." He answered and they all went into the house.

After putting on a shirt and pouring tea for Touka, he settled on the chair opposite of both women and clasped his hands. "It's not what it looked like. I just showered and Rize here suddenly came over, which explains why I wasn't wearing a shirt and she was just visiting to give me something, right?"

Rize nodded. "I'm getting married so I came to invite him to my wedding."

"Yes she was—wait, you're getting married?!" He couldn't believe his ears and had to make sure.

Her brow went up. "Why? Is it that big of a surprise? You didn't think I'd get married, did you?" She teased.

"It's just... I thought you didn't like permanence and so I expected you not to get attached to someone for the rest of your life."

Rize sighed. "I met a man and he made me want to settle down. No offense, Haise. Our relationship was great but I guess we weren't fated to be together."

"No offense taken."

Rize slid a wedding invitation to him then turned to Touka. "You can come as his plus one also if you want. Now then, I've done what I came to do and I'm leaving."

Before she left, she leaned over Touka and whispered, "cherish him, he's boyfriend and husband material, if you ask me. Plus, he's great in bed."

Touka's cheeks warmed.

"Judging from that reaction, I see that you've already done it with him. Oh well, whatever it is between the two of you, I hope you guys fix it."

"Bye, Haise! See you at the wedding!"

The door closed and silence fell.

Touka felt so relieved when she heard that Haise didn't move on from her and that she still had a chance. "Do you still remember what you said to me on the day I left?"

He blinked. "Of course. I asked you to be my girlfriend and that I was willing to wait for as long as it takes even if I had to be number 2 in your heart. I thought about it every day since you left and how I could have phrased it in a different way so that you'd say yes. In the end, I knew that no matter how I phrased it, I would still be rejected because you loved him..." He trailed off, the shine in his eyes disappearing into sadness.

"I dated Haruki again."

He flinched at her sentence and braced himself for the good news. She was going to get back with the guy who cheated on her, or they were going to get married. He didn't like both.

"And I broke up with him for the second time."

"What—why?"

Haise looked down at Touka as she stepped toward with him and cupped his cheeks with a smile. "Because I realized I don't love him anymore, but someone else. Haise... is it too late for me to change my answer to be your girlfriend from no to yes?"

Tears formed in his eyes and he shook his head. "It isn't. What made you change your mind?"

"It was the way he kissed me. He didn't love me anymore nor did I. The kiss had no feelings. I compared it to yours and you kissed me as if you truly loved me and that you would die if I didn't love you back."

He hid back his jealousy that Haruki got to kiss her and instead scratched his nape and laughed nervously. "You caught me. I loved you, and I guess that reflected in my kisses. I probably fell in love with you the moment you woke up in my bed looking ridiculous with your bed hair and your stomach growling like it hasn't had food in a year."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I fell in love with you when I saw you put on your stupid banana boxers."

He leaned his forehead against hers and grinned. "They're nice, you know."

"They're silly." She whispered, breath tickling his face.

Soon, their lips met passionately, and just when she thought their bodies couldn't be any closer, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, so close that her breasts pressed up against his chest and her hips met his.

"Tell me why you love me." She said.

Haise twirled a few strands of her hair with his fingers as he gazed into her eyes. "I love the way your hair falls all over your face when you sleep."

"Are you insulting me? And is that it?" She frowned and also sounded disappointed.

"I am not insulting you and I find that cute. I'm not done either." He caressed her cheeks."I love the way your blue eyes shine like the stars at night."

He poked her nose. "I love the way your cute little nose twitches when you're so done with me."

He rubbed his thumb over her soft lips. "I love the way your lips curve into a smile when I tell you one of my jokes."

"I love your competitive side, your emotional side, your sarcastic side, your playful side and everything else. I, Sasaki Haise, have fallen deeply in love with you and I don't regret it."

Touka wanted to cry. He was so sweet. Her fears arose. "Will you promise to not cheat on me? I-i don't think I can survive another cheating incident."

Haise sensed that now was not the time for a joke. She was seriously telling him her insecurities and worries and he needed to reassure her. "I promise. I will never look at another woman except you. If I do, I give you permission to hit me."

She laughed despite the seriousness and leaned on his chest. She felt so happy, warm and cherished in his arms and she believed that he would be the one to make her happy. "Oh, you bet I will. I'll dump your sorry ass too."

— EXTRA —

Haise pouted. "You and Haruki kissed? I don't like that."

She giggled, sending flutters through him. "It was just so I can confirm how I felt about you and Haruki. Are you jealous?"

"I am. I demand compensation." He mumbled, nuzzling into her neck.

Touka grabbed his face and leaned in to kiss the cute, jealous man. "Is this enough, boyfriend?"

Leaning in close, he murmured, "I think I need more to make sure that was real..."

She laughed as he peppered kisses behind her ear lobes and down her neck, making it ticklish. "Haise, stop!"

—

1 year later, Haise proposed to her in a Ferris wheel and they got married 6 months after.

3 years later, Touka gave birth to a daughter named Ichika. Another 3 years later, a baby boy named Kou joined their family of three, making it a family of four.

Thinking back as she looked down at her two sleeping children and one sleeping husband, she never regretted her decision in becoming Haise's girlfriend, for he did what he promised her; never to cheat on her, and to make her the happiest woman in the world.

[gundersonlogan]

LOGAN GUNDERSON ( DYLAN MINNETTE ) is a SEVENTEEN year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. HE is originally from DETROIT, MI but moved to Broadripple ONE YEAR ago. He is DRIVEN and WITTY but can also be HOTHEADED and PRETENTIOUS.

“I hate worrying about the future cause all my current problems are based around the paste.”

Name: Logan Michael Gunderson

Nickname: None

Age: Seventeen

Grade: Junior

Room: 1 Junior Cabin

House: Fenwick

Sports: Swim Team

Clubs: Rock/Jazz Band (Drums, Bass)

Character Aesthetics: Bleached hair, bitten down finger nails, vintage band t-shirts, doggy-eared books, a long open road, polaroid photos, knick knacks picked up at thrift shops

@ba-central​

FACTS

Logan and his sister were born in Detroit, Michigan but until the age of 15 the family traveled all over the United States, and for a year France, never staying in one town for too long. Their parents were back up musicians so they most of Logan’s life was spent on the road, going to gig to gig, town to town.

For some kids a life on the road might have been challenging, but Logan loved it. He thrived on the freedom his parents gave him and his sister. He read any book that he could get his hands on, talked to as many roadies he could, and listened to lots and lots of music.

Logan was a happy and creative kid, who always always quick to offer a witty comment or a book recommendation. He likes to think that he was original but really he just looked like every alternative boy at a modern baseball concert.

Logan wouldn’t have changed a single thing about his life, he was living an extraordinary and unusual life, and then it all came crashing down. After their parents died Logan and Lucy went to live with their Grandma Edith, and it may as well have been moving to a totally different planet.

Both of the Gunderson siblings hated Broadripple when Edith first sent them to the boarding school but Lucy adjusted to their new environment better than Logan. He felt stifled and trapped at the school, he missed living on the road and being in charge of his own education. Most of all he missed his parents.

He hasn’t properly processed his parents death, and all that angst and sadness comes out as displaced anger and aggression. Lately he has started to break every rule in the Broadripple handbook, just because he can, and he doesn’t care who catches him. He’s on thin ice with the school, little do they know thats exactly where he wants to be, because getting expelled is the only way his grandmother will allow him to leave the school.

HEADCANONS

Logan doesn’t actually mind his classmates so much, some of them are actually pretty cool. His dislike for Broadripple has nothing to do with them, and more his general distain for education system, especially if it’s a boarding school that he’s literally trapped in 24/7.

He doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, while his sister has always known exactly what she wanted to be since they were kids Logan doesn’t have any real direction. All he knows is that he wants to be a creative like his parents, and travel.

He’s that kid who read Into The Wild once and wants to be Christopher McCandless even though he literally (SPOILERS FOR INTO THE WILD LOL) dies a horrible death at the end. You should try reading Cheryl Strayed honey, might be a better role model.

Since he could never hold on too much growing up he’s become a big of a hoarder since moving in with his grandmother. It’s probably a coping mechanism and a therapist would really love to analyze this.

He died his hair pink while they were back home, mostly to piss off his grandma but he actually thinks it looks pretty cool. He won’t like it so much when his roots start showing when he can’t touch the color up at the cabins.

The Gunderson family was probably part of a cult at some point, at first it seemed like a cool communal living space full of likeminded hippies but after a few months some weird shit started happening and their dad decided it was time to move on.

THE RETREAT

What do they think about The Retreat? It’s better than being stuck in the dorms and Logan is happy to have more space to explore but it’s only slightly better than having to be in the dorms, so it’s still shit.  

Do they have any previous experience with camping or other outdoors? The Gunderson family lived out a camper van more than they lived out of a proper house so he has a lot of experience roughing it. He thinks living out in the cabins will be good practice for the cross country road trip he’s planning.

What does their cabin bunk look like? How will they decorate their space? Since his parents death he has become a bit of a hoarding, never wanting to give up any of his belongings. His bunk is covered in picture/posters, books that he hasn’t even read yet, random crap he picks up at gas stations and thrift shops, an endless pile of band t-shirts and Hawaiian shirts cover his floor. He’s driving his bunk mates crazy.

Do they believe in the supernatural? To what degree? He’s skeptical, but he’s not about to totally dismiss the theories either. Mostly he just thinks they’re cool camp fire stories, but he doesn’t put much stock in them.

Are they easily spooked? He’s pretty level headed about that kind of stuff, if anything he’s probably too relaxed.

TEST RESULTS

WANTED CONNECTIONS/PLOTS:

TBD, message me with any ideas!!!

[artschoolfreddie]

You’re My Best Friend

a/n: hey! i came across @quirkysubject‘s queen prompt meme the other day and as i was reading through it, i came up with an idea of my own - the boys just hanging out as friends. so i started thinking about it more and i decided to write a short little one shot about it!! i’m pretty proud of how it turned out, since i haven’t written much of anything, so hopefully you guys like it too! please give me feedback, that would be very much appreciated, and let me know what you think!! (i also posted it on my ao3 here)

words: 1.6k

no warnings, just friendship

The cool spring breeze came though the opened windows of Roger and Freddie’s flat. It was March and university had started, and work was piling up for everyone. After a short band meeting with Brian and John, they all decided it was better to stay here and do some work than to go all the way back home, they figured they could all study together. Although Freddie didn’t study much, being an art student, but he didn’t mind, he could find something to work on.

After the (very short) meeting, they all got to work, Brian reading an astronomy book (something about Zodiacal dust?), sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, across from the tan couch in the living room. John was working on what seemed to be some sort of schematic or blueprint, in between Brian and Freddie, on a yellow bean bag Freddie found in a random stall in Kensington Market. Freddie, on the floor with his back on the couch and across from Brian, seemed to be working on a number of things at once, flipping through a sketchbook, drawing a bit on each one, until he finally settled on one and paid extra attention to it, content with what he started with. Roger… well Roger was studying for a Biology test he had coming up, but got a bit bored and distracted, so he started to read some magazine that was lying on the coffee table in front of him, while he himself was sitting upside down on the couch, long blond hair touching the floor.

It was quiet, a good noise level for studying, but Freddie couldn’t take it anymore. He could handle it for a bit, but the sound of pages turning was starting to become deafening. He broke his view of his sketchbook and looked around. All three boys were entranced in what they were doing and didn’t seem to notice or be bothered by the quiet. He quickly did a double take of Roger sitting upside down and smiled to himself. What an idiot, he thought, lovingly, of course. He glanced down at Roger’s long locks and couldn’t help but give them a quick tug, causing Roger to yelp and drop the magazine he was gazing at on his face. His yelp also startled John, who looked up at the ruckus, and Brian, who also dropped the heavy book he was reading on his face.

“Rog!” Brian groaned, sitting up and giving Roger the biggest death stare he could muster. “What was that for?! I dropped my book on my face!”

“Don’t blame me, Fred pulled my hair out!” Roger whined back, rolling on his side and ‘accidentally’ kicked Freddie’s head.

“Oh, never mind then, thanks for that Freddie.” Brian gave Freddie and Roger a big smile, to which Roger just scoffed in reply and contemplated throwing a pillow at Brian, they were called throw pillows after all.

“Don’t be so dramatic, dear, it was just a slight tug. Besides, I thought you’d be used to that by now.” Quickly dodging another ‘accidental’ kick from Roger, Freddie stood up and looked at John who snorted and was giggling in amusement.

“Not sure you have room to talk about being dramatic, Fred.” John giggled again, watching Freddie as he got up from the floor and made his way towards the turntable in a corner of the room next to a window.

“Me!? Dramatic?! Oh, I would never, why would you ever suggest that Deaky dear?” Recanted Freddie as he took a random record from an old box on the floor. These records were Roger’s most prized possessions, and hated it when anyone even thought about taking one in case they weren’t careful enough, but he didn’t mind when Freddie took one – he trusted him. The record in questions was Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland, a band favorite. He put it on the turntable and carefully placed the needle to the first track, and let it play.

“Hendrix. Good choice.” Brian said and got up from his place on the floor and followed Freddie to the kitchen, where he was starting to put water in a kettle. Roger and John decided to follow as well, finding it extremely hard to work without tea or some snacks.

“Yes of course darlings, I can make you guys some tea, thank you for asking!” Freddie said – maybe sarcastically, the boys couldn’t really tell (they could, they loved to annoy him) – when he realized that they all gathered around the kitchen with him, picking at some sweets and other food that was left over from other flat mates.

“I didn’t know you can read minds, add that to the long list of things to keep note of when I’m around you.” Roger chuckled and ate some peanuts that were laying around, realizing that he probably needed to clean this table up more, it was a mess – he’d have to tell one of his flat mates about it.

“I don’t think Fred would want to see what’s going on in your mind.” John quipped and Brian stifled a laugh. Roger could really be thinking about three things – girls, cars, or music. And John was right, Freddie – if he did have mind reading powers, which unfortunately, he didn’t – did not want to take that chance.

“He’s right, if I could read minds, I wouldn’t waste my time with your minds. I’d read, I don’t know, Marie Antoinette’s mind, to see what she was thinking. And how she’d spend all her riches, oh, and what kind of jewels she liked best.”

“I’d read Jimi Hendrix’s mind, maybe I’ll be half as good as him if I knew what was in his mind and how it worked.” Brian contemplated this as Voodoo Chile played in the background, letting the bluesy guitar take over his senses. The rest of the boys nodded and quietly agreed, Jimi Hendrix also being one of their favorite artists, one of the few things they could all agree on. “Actually, maybe I’d read Leonardo Da Vinci’s mind. I like Italians.”

“How boring. I’d read John Lennon’s mind, a musical genius and I’d like to get in his head. He’s already had such a big impact on the world, it would be interesting to know what’s in his head.” Roger chewed with his mouth opened as he said this, so Freddie gave him a glare as if to say You better close your mouth before I make you.

“All interesting, but I’d probably read William Burrough’s mind. The man’s seen and done more than I ever will, maybe I can catch a glimpse of what goes on in that kind of… environment.” John ended with a laugh, and the others followed suit. As quiet and calm Deaky was, he could go wild and cause lots of trouble, never underestimate the quiet one.

The boys thought about their decisions and all agreed with each other, thinking Of course he would pick them, knowing each other so well, they basically knew each other’s answers before anyone said them.

Suddenly, the kettle started screeching and startled them out of their thoughts. Freddie got the kettle while Brian took some teacups out of the cabinets, already knowing where they were, having been here many times before. John also knew where the teabags were, third drawer from the right, and took a box of Earl Grey tea, Freddie’s favorite. At the same time, Roger got the sugar cubes from the drawer next to him and prepared the area to make room for the tea. Freddie poured everyone a cup and fixed themselves their tea to their liking.

The smell of the Earl Grey, the sound of Hendrix, and the cool breeze was calming. Feeling content and happy in the moment, John couldn’t help but smile. He was with his bandmates, who happened to be his best friends, drinking Earl Grey tea – of all things 20 something year olds would be drinking on a Saturday – listening to music and enjoying each other’s company. He only met the guys a few months ago, but he already felt at home and was completely comfortable with them. This wasn’t exactly what John imagined when he thought of college life years ago, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“What’s on your mind, Deaks?” Brian asked, a hint of a laugh in his voice and small smile on his face, bringing his tea to his mouth and taking a sip.

“Oh, you know,” John laughed slightly, “just thinking about how I imagined life would be like in Uni versus what it’s actually like.”

“What, like we don’t party and have a really good time?” Roger and Freddie looked at each other and couldn’t help but giggle, reminiscing on all of the alcohol fueled nights at their little market stall, trying on ridiculous clothes and whatnot.

John almost spit out his tea with that interaction and he remembered all the debauchery that went on with his newer friends, especially with those two. “Well, yes of course but you know,” John started, “I just didn’t think I’d be drinking Earl Grey with Jimi Hendrix playing in the background on a Saturday having a study session with my best friends, you know.”

A couple of hm’s were heard, and again, the boys agreed. It was a bit unusual to be doing this when they could be doing practically anything else, but none of them minded. It was nice, spending time with each other, not just as a band, but as friends. They knew they had a good future because of it, a band that stays together have a very good chance to be successful. And none of them would want to share the fame, money, success, and the hardships, with anyone else. They were all each other best friends, after all.

“I’m hungry, you guys wanna get some lunch?” Roger broke the comforting silence, and a chorus of yeah’s followed. The boys quickly finished their tea and headed out the door.

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

just in case you wanted to be tagged @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​!!!

[baepsaets]

eight’s a crowd ~ bts

pairing: ot7 x reader

rating: sfw

word count: 5.1k

summary: you’re a bighit staff member in charge of stage set-up when you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the very seven men you’re setting stage for. soulmate au!

part 01 02 03 04 05

“(Y/N),” your manager called. “Did you—?”

“Unpack the lighting equipment?” you finished. “It’s over there.”

“What about the—?”

“Surround sound? It’s already in the pit.”

“And the—?”

“Camera stand? I’ve already got it set up, sir,” you said, laughing at his relieved expression. It wasn’t that people in your department didn’t do their job—just that they hardly ever did it on time.

Your manager scribbled on his clipboard before looking up you. “I don’t know what we would do without you, (Y/N).”

“Probably replace me and suffer,” you shrugged.

He shot you an amused look before walking away to check with the rest of the set-up crew, to confirm that the venue was ready for the upcoming concert. He called over his shoulder, “Could you help Wonpil in the pit for a second?”

“Yeah, let me use the bathroom first.”

It took you a second to find the bathroom, just because the venue was big, and everything was in a different language. Luckily the symbol for the bathroom seemed to be universal, and because the venue wasn’t crowded yet, the bathroom was empty.

Other than the venue not being crowded, there also weren’t many women there in the first place. You were the only woman in a set-up crew composed mainly of middle-aged men, not that you minded. Most of the men handled the stage while you handled lighting, sound system, or camera set-up. Many of the men liked you because you’d proven yourself to be hardworking, with most of them even looking to you as a leader figure whenever a manager wasn’t available.

Once you were finished with your business, you moved to the sink. You scrubbed the black oil and dirt from your skin, too rushed to properly clean your nailbed. It wasn’t pretty, but it wasn’t your job to look pretty. Raising your head, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror—light sheen of sweat, dirt smudged across your forehead, hair pulled away from your face in a tight ponytail. You grimaced at your less-than-glamorous reflection and dried your hands, hurriedly wiping your face before exiting the bathroom.

Being in the set-up crew was nice because you got to operate before the people showed up, before the craziness started. It may not have been the best paying job, or the easiest, but you loved it anyway, because it gave you the one thing you’d always longed for—freedom.

Growing up in your household, you’d felt stifled. You knew the life your family wanted for you, but didn’t have any idea about who you were or what you wanted for yourself. The only thing you had was an ever-growing hole in your chest that called for action, travel, and experience.

Instead of enrolling in college, you’d taken your high school diploma straight to an employment agency and considered your best option. Being a part of an event set-up crew didn’t sound appealing to many, but that wasn’t what you’d been focused on while filling out the job application—where most people saw a dead-end and laborious job, you saw an opportunity.

Being in the set-up crew for a group that performed internationally allowed you to travel more than any other option you’d researched before applying. Although the time you spent in each country was limited, just seeing the scenery pass by through the van window was enough to make your heart flutter. You documented every place you went, kept track of the ones you liked the most, and got paid for it. All while planning which places you’d like to revisit in the future, on your own time.

It had been over a year, but your family still didn’t speak to you much. You didn’t mind, too preoccupied to give it much focus. You were out creating your own life from the ground up, and you’d be damned before letting them ruin it. You were antsy as a person, and dreamy at heart—you wanted to fly. You wanted to see and experience the world.

It had been an act of fate that you were somehow assigned to Bangtan’s set-up crew.

You’d heard of BTS. You’d liked their music because they spoke to you—the confused generation, the disjointed generation, the generation the world was trying to leave behind. You’d admired them for their tenacity and talent, but it hadn’t been your plan to work for them. Signing up through an organization that assigned people to companies, it wasn’t until your second background check that you realized they must be sending you somewhere serious. It wasn’t until you were fingerprinted that you realized you should be nervous, and by the time you got BigHit’s job offer, you were thunderstruck.

Of course, you’d accepted immediately, and it felt worth it. You felt like whatever God or Greater Being there was in the world had finally listened to you, curled up in your bed in the middle of the night, dreaming of something bigger. Something big enough to encompass you. When you’d applied to be a set-up crewmember, you had expected to piddle around your home country for years before being allowed to venture the world. You had been prepared to be patient. But this? It felt like a reward for a race you hadn’t run, or maybe a reward for a race you hadn’t realized you were running until you’d won.

Since working for BigHit, you hadn’t seen Bangtan, and probably never would—but you’d known that when you’d taken the job. You weren’t production crew, couldn’t film, weren’t a manager, and could barely do your own make-up on a good day. You had no real reason to ever be around them, not like the rest of the staff. BigHit was a wonderful company to work for and was much more tightknit that any other entertainment company you’d researched, but with Bangtan’s growing success, it had only gotten bigger and bigger. As set-up crew, you were at the bottom of the totem pole. You were lucky to even catch a glimpse of them on stage.

Because it was during the performance that set-up crew left. BigHit liked to move in waves; set-up crew moved first, in order to get a jump on preparing the venue. Then Bangtan would move, after their performance, giving them optimal time to rest. Then break-down crew would stay late deconstructing the set, delivering the equipment to the set-up crew at the next venue, where the process would start all over again.

It was harsh and viscous, never getting to rest, fighting to stay on your feet. You had a newfound respect for Bangtan for being able to do it, especially while being in the public eye. The only eyes you had to worry about were the eyes of your supervisor, and even then, sometimes you could barely handle it.

You entered the pit and found Wonpil tangled from head to toe in wiring. He looked as though he’d been trying to plug in the sound system, but had somehow gotten lost on the way. When he heard you approach, he ducked his head sheepishly. “Oh hey, (Y/N).”

Holding in a grin, you said, “I’m assuming you’re behind.”

He had enough decency to grimace. “What gave it away?”

“You look like a tangled pair of headphones,” you told him. “Or someone with a very specific fetish in a porno.”

Wonpil made an insulted sound in the back of his throat before tripping, landing in an even worse tangled lump at your feet. “Ow, ow!” He looked up at you, pathetically. “Help me?”

Bending down, you started to pick gently at the wiring covering him. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite. Don’t tell Jae I said that.”

“Don’t tell Jae you said what?” Jae called, from across the stage, and you cursed because you hadn’t realized he was that close.

“That you look better in wire-framed glasses,” you replied, immediately. “Thick-rimmed glasses make your eyes look smaller.”

Jae gasped in offense, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “How dare you.”

“How dare I?” you asked, gesturing to the mess at your feet. “You’re the one that let Wonpil turn himself into an electrical mummy!”

“I let him run wild,” Jae replied, flicking his wrist in dismissal. “Talk to Sungjin if you want discipline.”

You pointed a warning finger at him. “I’ll show you discipline if you don’t get the lighting set up in the next hour.”

Jae held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

It took twenty minutes and five people to get Wonpil untangled. By the time that was finished, you had to work twice as fast to get the sounding finished it time. Your job wasn’t always glamorous, or relaxing, but you could say this—it was always entertaining.

People were starting to line up outside by the time you were finished, and you hurried to avoid them. Masses of people made you nervous. You busied yourself with helping the rest of your crew until show time. You were already packed, your bag in the travel van, and were just looking to preoccupy yourself until it was time to leave.

Your crewmember Brian found you waiting idle and decided to approach you. “Hey, a few of us are gonna try to catch the beginning of the show on the balcony, you in?”

He gestured up to a balcony that was too far back to provide a good view of the show, but you weren’t interested in the view. You just wanted to hear the music.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” you replied, and he smiled. You had to admit Brian was handsome, but you weren’t interested. Working in such a tumultuous environment didn’t make for good dating, and even though a few of your fellow set-up crewmembers were good-looking, nothing had prompted you to indulge. Maybe getting a chance to see BTS in their glory was ruining your appetite for normal men.

On the balcony you found Wonpil with Jae, along with Sungjin. Brian joined a little bit later, right before the concert was about to start. The later it got the more you looked around, wondering about the absence of one crewmember in particular.

“Where’s Dowoon?” you asked. The six of you were the youngest overall, but Dowoon held a special place in your heart.

Sungjin snorted. “Still packing.”

The five of you joked around and laughed until the crowd started to writhe, signaling their growing impatience for the concert to start. The lighting lowered, and you couldn’t help but tap your leg in anticipation as the crowd went wild. Jae noticed your excitement and laughed at you.

“You’re not secretly a fangirl, are you?” he teased, and you punched him in the shoulder.

“Be careful,” you warned. “You’re built like a noodle and I could take you in a fight.”

He smacked your thigh playfully. “You’re mean.”

Wonpil shushed the both of you by smacking the railing. You fell quiet and let the concert take you away, screaming and clapping as BTS stepped out on the stage.

You wished you could get closer, but you noticed how Sungjin kept checking his watch—you didn’t have the time. Bangtan went into their first song and you and Jae danced to it, terribly. Watching them perform, even from a distance, was invigorating.

Sungjin was the first to leave, taking Brian with him. You, Jae, and Wonpil lingered but then even they retired to get a good seat in the van. You loitered just a bit longer, perched on the balcony, unseen by the audience, taking in the show. You couldn’t help but think about how talented they were, how hardworking. Sometimes, whenever you watched them like this, you felt like you knew them. Not like how a fan knew an idol, but how a soul could recognize a similar soul—something thudding, reverent in your bones.

You couldn’t pick a bias. Picking a bias felt like asking a mother to choose between her children. Watching them together on stage, you couldn’t help but swallow a kernel of something dangerously close to desire, but for which member, you could never decipher. They looked right, standing in a line, the seven of them. Like seven puzzle pieces snapped together, forming a handsome picture.

“We’re about to leave, (Y/N),” Sungjin called from the bottom of the staircase. “Do you have everything?”

“I’m already packed,” you informed him. After a heavy moment you turned away from the stage, although it hurt you. You wished, for a split second, just to be their fan, and to watch them without being weighed down with responsibility.

“Cool, we’re pulling out in fifteen. Have you seen Dowoon? He forgot his headset.”

“I have mine, want me to go look for him?”

“Please, if you can,” he grimaced. “Manager told me that if we pull out late one more time, he’s making us do break-down next concert.”

Your lip curled in horror. None of you had the time to do break-down, and break-down sucked because everything was dirty and needed to be cleaned. “I’ll be back soon.”

Putting on your headset, you maneuvered backstage. You had to flash your pass to several security personnel for protocol, despite them already knowing you. By the time you made it backstage, you were jumpy and nervous to find Dowoon.

The music was deafening loud, and so was the crowd. The crowd made you the most nervous, and you hoped he hadn’t been accidentally sucked in and torn to pieces by the obsessive fingers of a thousand fangirls.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” you heard, turning to see Dowoon running up behind you. You grinned in relief, but he looked anything but relieved when he stopped in front of you, panting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I didn’t—,” he tried to say, before gulping. “I didn’t get the extra camera stand, in the back. I was running late and Sungjin was yelling at me and I forgot my headset and I just, forgot it. I’m so sorry. And I still haven’t packed yet and we’re about to pull out, if I don’t get the stand then—,”

“Do you want me to grab it?” you asked. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”

Dowoon looked ready to bow at your feet. “Thank you so much! It’s in the store closet, by the make-up room. I owe you after this.”

“Buy my dinner and we’ll be even,” you laughed. “Now, go! Unless you want to pick gum out of the safety gates for the next week.”

He didn’t even reply as he ran away, assumingly to pack. You shook your head fondly and turned, intending to follow his path. It wasn’t until you were halfway there you realized that you were going to walk right by the stage. Like, right next to it, where BTS was performing mere feet away. While walking you turned your head, disappointed to realize that the side of the stage was covered by a curtain. Production crew went in and out of it regularly, indicating that they had their own little station set up right by the edge of the stage.

Curiosity bubbled in your chest, and you paused. One peek, you told yourself. One peek isn’t going to hurt. You knew the production manager wouldn’t mind, if you just stuck your head through. Just to catch the smallest glimpse. You’d been touring with them for over a year now. Certainly you deserved it.

You’d never been backstage during a concert before. You’d probably never be backstage during a concert again, and who were you if not a woman willing to take a risk? It was how you’d gotten the job in the first place.

Any concern about time faded as you creeped closer. The tiniest peek. The littlest look. That would be it. Sungjin would never even miss you.

Finding the edge of the curtain, you peeled it back and instantly stood transfixed. You could see Jimin on stage, performing his solo. He was otherworldly. Everything from the grace of his body to the tone of his voice conveyed perfection, and to see it up-close felt like it was worth the risk. You’d do break-down a hundred times just for an opportunity to stay and watch Jimin move like that.

But it wasn’t just you that would be punished if you were late. With the fate of the whole set-up crew on your shoulders, you needed to move, and you needed to do it quickly. Hopefully the camera stand would be exactly where Dowoon said it was, and you could be out of there in less than a minute. Your tiniest peek was over, and now it was back to business.

Turning away from the stage, fate had a different plan for you. You ran face-first into somebody’s hard chest, knocking your forehead against their chin. The impact was hard enough to knock your headset off, and you tried to grab it before it fell.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, dropping your headset. Your forehead hurt and you rubbed it, trying to sooth the ache. You looked up prepared to apologize but were shocked to find yourself face-to-face with Jeon Jeongguk. “Oh, shit.”

Gasping, you clasped your hand over your mouth. The only thing you could do was stare. He was ridiculously handsome in person, in his stage make-up, and his stage outfit, looking like every wet dream you’d ever had. It was one thing seeing him look superhuman in photos, or on stage—but seeing him in front of you, looking like that? It wasn’t fair.

Jeongguk had reached out to steady you, and his hand was resting on your bare arm. It was burning hot, but you chalked it up to him being overheated from the performance as he stared, stared, stared at you, too long not to be awkward. Dumbstruck and starstruck and struggling to breath, you stepped away and dropped into a low bow.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you apologized. “I wasn’t paying attention and I’m sorry.”

Without looking at him, you gathered your headset. You could feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of your neck until you rose. You expected him to say something, but he just kept staring, seeming just as thunderstruck as you were. Wrapping the headset around your arm, you touched the side of your face self-consciously, wondering if you looked as bad as you thought you did. You weren’t wearing make-up and your face was no doubt smudged with dirt and shining with sweat.

When the silence became unbearable, you bowed briefly again and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m in a hurry. I’m sorry!”

Turning to leave, you rounded the corner and mentally kicked yourself. It wasn’t enough, seeing them on stage briefly once a week. It wasn’t enough, catching glimpses of them every day as they were bustled back and forth from stage to stage. You just had to try to see them up-close, and look where it had gotten you—embarrassed in front of one of the very men you were trying desperately to see.

“Wait,” he said, breaking out of his daze. “Wait!”

“I’m sorry,” you kept apologizing, over your shoulder. “But I need to go—,”

Jeongguk followed you around the corner, grabbing your elbow. It sent a bolt of heat through you and you skidded to a halt. He pressed that to his advantage, spinning you around before stepping away, jittery like he was afraid to touch you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “Are you a fan?”

You were mildly offended, but not surprised. “I’m an employee and I’m late.”

You moved to turn, but he just circled you, dipping his head to maintain eye contact. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you told him, caught up in the way the fluorescent lighting turned his eyes into galaxies. The second you told him your name, you wanted to take it back. What if he thought you were a sasaeng and reported you to your manager? Before you could explain yourself, Jeongguk repeated your name like it was a prayer, making you blush.

“Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

Despite knowing you were running out of time, you were compelled to tell him. Before you could open your mouth, an exasperated groan interrupted you. A manager rounded the corner and visibly sagged in relief. “Jeongguk-ah, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Get back on stage,” you told him. “You’re late and I still haven’t gotten the damn camera stand, we’re leaving in ten minutes—,”

“Jeongguk-ah, come on!”

“Give me a second,” Jeongguk snapped at his manager, but you took the opportunity to skirt around him until you were fast-walking away, almost in a run. “Wait! (Y/N)!”

You turned and saw that the manager had Jeongguk by the back of his t-shirt, looking like that was the only thing keeping him from chasing you down the hallway. You heard Jeongguk curse to himself before you turned, leaving the two of them in the dust.

~~~

You sat down in your seat with one minute to spare, under the shrewd eye of the manager. You shot him a quick grin and tried to hide your heavy breathing. You had the camera stand with you, balanced awkwardly between you and your seat. Shooting a quick look over your shoulder, you caught Dowoon’s sheepish gaze and Sungjin’s sharp one, considering you had almost gotten them break-down duty. After a quick roll call, the van was in motion and the set-up crew was on their way to the next venue before Bangtan was even finished with their concert.

With most of the people you chatted with too far away to talk, you decided to doze during the drive. It was only a couple hours long, nothing too tedious. You were lucky their next concert was within driving distance, because nothing was worse than having to put up with airport traffic. Despite trying your hardest to sleep, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Jeongguk.

Your face colored just remembering the encounter. You shouldn’t have peeked—it may have been a public concert, but you were far from a regular fan and the curtain was there for a reason. To keep the prying eyes of other employees away. And then actually speaking to him, dashing down the hallway before he could get a word in edgewise. You buried your face in the crook of your elbow. Despite the embarrassment, seeing him up-close, being able to touch him. . . was a memory that would stay with you until the day you died.

When you reached the hotel sometime in the early hours of the morning, you went to your room and fell asleep immediately. The greatest perk of being the only female set-up crewmember was definitely having your own room, meaning you didn’t have to deal with an interrogation until breakfast.

Huddled on Jae and Wonpil’s bed, breakfast perched on your lap, you withered under Sungjin’s glare as he shoveled food into his mouth.

“Where were you last night?” he asked. “One minute to spare. One minute.”

You grimaced in apology. “I’m sorry, I had trouble finding Dowoon.”

You and Dowoon exchanged a look. You weren’t going to rat on him and admit it was his fault you’d been late, but you could tell he felt guilty. It wasn’t a lie; you had had trouble finding him, just maybe not the trouble Sungjin assumed you’d had.

“I tried talking to you over the headset but you never replied!”

“I dropped it,” you admitted, wincing at his horrified face. “I’m sorry! I made it, didn’t I? When have I ever let you down?”

He grumbled, “There’s a first time for everything.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, will you? It’ll be another hour before BTS is here, and then the real craziness will start.”

It was true that chaos seemed to follow the group everywhere, but the true reason you were nervous about Bangtan’s arrival was because you didn’t want Jeongguk to talk to your manager. Seeking him out to apologize for your behavior would just further convince him that you were a sasaeng desperate for an excuse to see him, but it didn’t sit right with you not to say anything at all. You wanted to apologize for so hastily running away.

You had been thinking obsessively about it—the heat of his hand on your shoulder, the way he’d said your name, the look in his eyes watching you walk away. It felt intimate, like he’d known you. Like he’d recognized you the second he saw you.

“Next time!” Jae said, jerking you from your memory and pointing his spoon at you, threateningly. “Don’t lollygag!”

You stared down your nose at him. “Aye-aye, captain.”

He whacked your knee with the flat of his spoon. “No backtalk, either.”

Instead of replying, you flicked a blueberry at him, which he tried and failed to catch in his mouth. Laughing, you tried again, until a growing pile of blueberries was on the floor and Jae was just as hungry as he’d been when he’d tried catching one in the first place.

After breakfast, you were assigned to case the venue until further equipment arrived. Security had already cased the building, but you were required to go through seating to check for anything suspicious. You were paired with Dowoon to examine the left side, and the two of you went aisle to aisle without speaking.

Finally, Dowoon stopped in front of you, not for a hug, but to rest his chin on top of your head. You patted his arm soothingly, forehead leaning on his chest.

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble,” Dowoon mumbled, and you shrugged. Pulling away, you smiled at him.

“It’s no big deal,” you replied. “No harm, no foul. You still owe me dinner, though.”

He smiled back, and the two of you continued preparing the venue until the break-down crew arrived, delivering the equipment you’d be unpacking until the concert tomorrow night.

~~~

Namjoon was pacing the length of the travel bus, one hand rubbing his forehead. Jeongguk sat on the couch, surrounded by everyone, but it was Namjoon that was doing the talking. It was while they were on their way to the next venue that Jeongguk had finally told them about meeting you. The bus had exploded into chaos so thick the driver had to pull over, questioning the ruckus in the back.

After assuring her that nothing was wrong, Namjoon had turned back to Jeongguk, seating him on the couch while the rest of Bangtan formed a half-circle around him. If he were being honest, he felt rather interrogated. Even Jin, who’d stepped outside to make a call after hearing what he had to say, was scowling at him in the corner.

“And you didn’t stop her?” Namjoon asked, breath hissing through his teeth.

“She ran away!” he cried. “And Guk-hyung wouldn’t let me go after her, they needed me on stage—,”

“As your leader,” Namjoon interrupted. “You have my explicit permission to miss every concert from now until the end of the year if you miss them chasing after our soulmate.”

Yoongi snorted. “You don’t mean that, quit bluffing.”

Namjoon shot him an annoyed look, partly because he was right. “We could have handled Jeongguk being a minute late.”

“He wouldn’t have been a minute late,” Yoongi replied. “He would have gotten carried away and missed the entire concert, and you know it.”

Jeongguk made a sound of protest, but Jimin said, “It wouldn’t have been fair to ARMY.”

The seven of them looked down at their feet and realized it was true, but were still left unsatisfied with the realization.

“It doesn’t matter what we should or shouldn’t have done,” Namjoon declared. “What are we going to do now?”

“We need to find her,” Hoseok said, immediately. “What her name?”

“(Y/N),” Jeongguk sighed. “She’s gorgeous.”

Taehyung asked, “What does she look like?”

“She has (Y/H/C) and (Y/E/C),” he replied. “But that doesn’t matter. She just had this aura, hyung. I touched her and it was everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I’m jealous,” Jimin said, steaming. “We need to find her now.”

“I’ve already talked to BangPD,” Jin said. “He said he’s not allowed to release employee information.”

Namjoon turned his head in surprise and asked, “Is that what your call was about?” At the same time, Yoongi groaned, “But it’s us.”

Jin shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you remember what he told us, when we first told him about our soulmate situation?”

Yoongi glared but didn’t reply, until Hoseok piped up, “He said he had no problem with it, but when it came to finding her, we were on our own.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon sighed. “We’re on our own.”

“I say we’re lucky,” Taehyung said. “She could have been a fan. She could have been a stranger in a coffee shop. The fact that she’s an employee means that she’s accessible.”

“BigHit has a thousand employees!” Jeongguk cried. “We’ve been debuted for over five years and this is our first time seeing her.”

“She could be new,” Jimin suggested. “Was she young?”

Jungkook nodded. “She was closer to my age.”

“And how many young women do we employee, really?” Jin supplied. “Not many, if you take out the women we know and see daily.”

“Maybe she’s a member of production crew and we just haven’t seen her,” Namjoon offered.

“Maybe she’s in set-up or break-down?” Hoseok guessed.

Yoongi scoffed. “Set-up and break-down don’t have women in their crew, it’s manual labor.”

“Don’t be sexist,” Jimin called.

“It’s not sexist, it’s reality,” Yoongi replied. “I just don’t want to waste my time looking in the wrong place.”

“I’ll check set-up,” Taehyung said. “Jeongguk, take break-down? If we split up and examine the different staff on tour with us, we’ll find her sooner or later.”

Jeongguk whined, “Why do I have to check the place she’s most likely not gonna be?”

“Because you’ve already met her once, brat,” Yoongi told him. “Quit being greedy.”

“I’ll take production,” Namjoon interrupted, before an argument could breakout.

“I’ll check make-up.”

“Wardrobe!”

“Sound and lighting.”

Jin finished, “And I can take PR.”

“We’ll find her,” Namjoon assured them, feeling much more confident now that they had a plan. “And once we do, we’ll never let her go.”

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Sweet Dreams Chapter Two

Lucid dreaming: The process of being aware that one is dreaming. Some researchers believe that in lucid dreaming, the individual may be able to change the outcome of the dream or control their degree of participation in the imaginary (dream) environment.

Description: Lee Eunbyul has been plagued with hellish nightmares since she was a child. Not the sort of nightmares you may be familiar with. There are no monsters to evade, no serial killers to outrun, no auditoriums of classmates in front of whom to stand naked. Instead there is just…darkness. Endless darkness. With professional help, the dreams come less frequently. But after moving away from home to live with her sister, Eunbyul’s nightmare returns, only this time it’s different. This time…she’s not alone.

What would you do if you had the chance to change the outcome of not only your dreams, but your life?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) OC

Word Count: 7.3k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Producer!Namjoon, Bookstore Clerk!Seokjin, Potter!Jimin, Producer!Yoongi, Dancer!Hoseok

Warnings: Frequent mentions of mental illness, infrequent swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Hello! I’m trying out links for this chapter to see if Tumblr eats it, since I don’t know if links are working now. But anyway, here’s chapter two! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

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Namjoon

I rubbed my eyes as the breaking morning light filtered in through the swaying curtains beside my bed. Sighing, I pushed myself up onto my forearms, then onto my legs, then onto my feet. I padded over to the window, stifling a yawn, and grabbed the frame. I’d left the thing open all night, having fallen asleep too suddenly to remember to close it properly, and now mosquitos flew in lopsided circles around my lamp. Also left on overnight. I groaned and pulled the window shut, shooing the mosquitos with squinted eyes. I checked the clock on my black wall. 4:03 AM.

Quietly, I followed the scent of coffee and sauntered out into the living room where Yoongi sat, legs crossed on the couch, flipping through a book on Greek mythology with one hand and holding a mug in the other.

“Morning,” I said, like every morning.

“Mm,” he replied, like every morning.

I suspected Yoongi hadn’t even bothered to go to sleep, and the purplish bags beneath his eyes didn’t help. The apartment was spotless as usual. Yoongi wasn’t one to let mess pile up, and I was grateful at least for that. What he lacked in socializing, he made up for in peace and cleanliness. I slipped along the cool wood floor and wandered into the kitchen, pouring myself a generous cup of coffee from the pot Yoongi had left on.

“Crazy dream?” asked Yoongi. I found the heart of his question in the words he didn’t say. You never wake up before noon. You okay?

I hummed and settled down at the table, running my finger along the polished trim. Everything in this apartment was pristine, lined with precision and placed with care. That’s how Yoongi was. Even before we met at his studio, he struck me as the diligent type.

I guess I felt like I could learn something from someone like him.

With a sigh I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t remember.”

“Hm,” said Yoongi with a gruff cough, pausing to flip the page in his book.

And that was that. With a few words exchanged between us, I was left to watch the morning sun arc across the blemishes sky outside the wall of windows facing the ocean. I was left to think.

Sometimes I wished he was more talkative…

The bus rattled down the sun-drenched street and I watched buildings pass by in silence. Normally, I’d have worn headphones but at Yoongi’s request, I’d left them behind so he could work on a beat at home. I rested my head against the window and shut my eyes with a heavy sigh. Why don’t you just talk to him? Those were the words replaying in my mind. Hoseok always was startlingly astute, in an oblivious sort of way. Of course, my friend of twenty years could say something so blasé like that without knowing what it meant for me. Tell him you wanna write music.

Just tell him.

A pang rang through the bus, signaling the approach of my stop, and I gathered my backpack and cell phone, standing with my hand on the rail overhead. “Ah, sorry,” I mumbled as an older woman stood beside me, stumbling with the unsteady stall of the bus.

She turned to me with a weathered smile and patted my arm. “Thank you,” she said, gently sliding down the aisle with both arms swung out as if she could fall over at any moment.

I watched her, uneasy, as she made her way to the exit. But as she exited, someone else entered and in their haste, they brushed a shoulder against the old woman’s chest, knocking her back slightly. I jumped, rushing to catch up to her, as she grabbed hold of the rail beside the exit. I placed a hand on her forearm to steady her, and again she offered a smile.

“Hey,” I shouted, turning to see the perpetrator was staring at the scene, eyes covered with a ball cap, short, curling black hair sprouting from underneath.

Upon closer inspection, the hapless bus-rider was a young girl, although with her face downturned it was hard to tell much about her beside her unimposing height. I scanned her from head to toe. Narrow shoulders, drowning in a shirt three sizes too big, shorts just barely visible underneath the hem, tanned legs and dirty tennis shoes. But my eyes lingered on her hands. Small, balled into fists, her index fingers were digging into the skin of her thumbs, picking as she stared at the old woman in the exit.

“I-,” she began, and her voice was almost too soft to hear over the engine.

“You gonna pay?” asked the bus driver, eyeing her impatiently.

The girl jumped and turned to him, swiping her pass and shuffling with her shoulders pinched and her head down until she found an empty spot. The spot I’d taken before. I sighed and stepped down toward the woman, offering my arm to help her out onto the street.

“Oh thank you, son,” she said once the both of us were safely on the sidewalk.

Sparing no time, the bus sped off down the road. I watched it for half a second before returning my attention to the woman with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, bowing. “Sorry about that,” I added, and I wasn’t sure why I apologized for that stranger. It wasn’t my apology to make, anyway.

She shook her head. “No, that’s alright,” she said with a simple smile before turning on her heel and waving goodbye. “Take care, sweetheart!”

I returned the smile along with the wave, but something wasn’t sitting quite right with me. As I turned on my heel towards the studio a block down, it hit me.

That girl on the bus was oddly familiar.

“How’s the project coming along?” asked Jisoo as he stood over my shoulder, gazing at the monitor with his specs sliding down the bridge of his nose.

I cleared my throat and nodded. “It’s good. The music will be automatically triggered when the player walks past this line, so I made sure to line it up properly,” I said, pointing with an index finger at the screen.

Sound design in video games was laborious work, and even more so when the sound is music. Footsteps, fighting noises, slashing sounds: those could be left to the programmers without a second thought. But music? That was the sort of thing that had to be implemented by somebody who understood dramatic tension, timing, placement. Of course, should the programmers decide they don’t need the help of an indie commercial freelance company for their music design, they could probably do a great job. But contracting us was a convenient way to take nonessential work and pass it to someone qualified to handle it.

In my case, overqualified.

“Good,” said Jisoo, but it was clear he was only half-listening as he stirred his coffee with a grimace. “That scene gonna be ready by tomorrow?”

“I mean…,” I began. It was the first I’d heard of such a short deadline. Quietly, I settled my nerves and met Jisoo’s eyes through the glare of his glasses. “Sure,” I said, reluctant.

His face split in a smile, wrinkles around his lips deepening as he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Great,” he said, patting my shoulder once. “We’re counting on you, Joon.”

Joon.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, turning back to my computer with a tense smile. “I’ll get to it then,” I said as he gave me a thumbs up and meandered down the hallway, out of my tiny, shared office.

I sighed, resting my cheek in my hand, and stared at the screen. Tiny characters idled in a wide, green field, awaiting my command to test if I’d placed the song correctly. I already knew I had. Of course, I should have been grateful to have a job in the first place. Albeit unfulfilling, the work gave me a steady income and despite the well of disappointment in my chest whenever Yoongi left to work in his own studio with real musical artists, I shouldn’t have been sighing all the time.

“Yikes,” said Jungkook from beside me, a young programmer who’d snagged the job at our company straight out of college.

He eyed me from his desk, only feet away from mine, and pushed his headphones back to rest against his collarbone. He was still a kid, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to work on games for the rest of his life. Really, working with a producing company was probably the best option for him. And every day you could see it in the way he moved that he was passionate. His round, inquisitive eyes were always landing on something new on his monitor, nimble fingers always typing away.

I doubted the kid had ever been apathetic about anything in his life.

“Yeah,” I breathed, glancing out the window to my right. Fresh sunlight poured in from outside. A fine day…

“You really gonna get it done in time?” he asked, refocusing on his screen as he popped a convenience store sausage in his mouth. He chewed on it, never looking away from the monitor, eyes alight.

I shrugged and leaned back in my chair. “Guess I gotta,” I said, still watching the day. In the distance, just below the horizon, I watched the train tracks as the afternoon train chugged by, windows glinting in the light. “It’s a crime to be inside on a day like this, though,” I remarked with a sigh.

Jungkook chuckled. “That’s what old people say,” he said, still munching.

I rolled my eyes and propped my headphones back up against my ears. “Everyone seems old to you,” I said. “Because you’re still a baby.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow and shot me a petulant look. “I’m a grown man.”

I chuckled and nodded, waving my hand to dismiss him. “Sure thing, big guy,” I said, continuing to set the music trigger just so.

The evening sun had long descended by the time my feet hit the pavement outside, and my hands and mind were exhausted. I wrung my wrists a little as I sighed into the nighttime air. The city was quiet, quieter than Seoul at any rate, and as I meandered toward the bus stop the simple sound of my cell phone ringing had me jumping. I fumbled with the phone for a moment as I fished it from my back pocket and slowly peered down at it.

Hani, displayed the screen and I raised my brows.

“Hello?” I asked as a white hatchback sped past, kicking up dirt on the street.

“Joonie,” she whined, and I could tell she was drunk. “I miss you.”

I gripped the bridge of my nose and nodded once, shutting my eyes against the yellow glow of the streetlamp overhead. “Uh-huh…”

“Come get me?”

I felt my chest constrict just a little. My mistake for answering in the first place. My mistake like always. “Where are you?” I asked carefully.

She mumbled something, words slurring together, before returning her attention to our phone call. “I’m at that bar by the beach. The pretty one.”

I knew the one. Sighing, I nodded. “Be there in ten,” I said, not awaiting a response as I pocketed the phone and began jogging down an alleyway, following a straight path to the shoreline.

Hani was right about one thing, anyway. The bar was pretty. In the summertime, when the air is fine and the clouds don’t linger too long, the beachside bar opens its windowed doors and extends its seating to the patio, right along the sand. The entrance was nestled deep beneath a canopy of light, sun-bleached wood beams and curling greenery, twinkling lights glowing on strings that wrapped around the entire patio.

Didn’t need to be a genius to know where she was. Quietly, I maneuvered around dancing bar patrons milling about in the gaps between tables and lounge chairs and made my way inside. The interior was dark. Not my style, really. But Hani always liked it here, which meant I spent plenty of drunk nights here. I approached the bar on the far wall and that was when I saw her.

Back on display from the low cut of her black dress, her brown hair waved over one slender shoulder and I saw her smile in profile. Perfect teeth, full cheeks rosy with alcohol and youth, eyes half-shut as she slapped a man’s arm. Gently, I approached her from behind and placed a hand on the small of her back, creating a wall between her and the man beside her. Her bright eyes landed on me and her smile went wider. She laughed, a loud, reverberating sound that pierced my ears even over the bumping music. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and held tight, standing to her feet.

“You’re smashed,” I remarked as I smelled the alcohol on her breath.

She giggled, running her fingers along the skin of my neck. “Hm…,” she mumbled, eyes shut as she swayed in front of me. “Let’s go walk on the beach.”

I placed my hands on her upper arms and guided her hands back to her sides, fixing her with a pointed look. “No, Hani we’ve gotta get you home-,”

“I wanna walk!” she shouted, the famous Hani pout on her ruby lips.

I swallowed hard. “No-,”

“I’m walking with or without you.”

And with that, she swung around in a grand circle and, with crossed arms, stomped across the bar and onto the patio where she paused, back still turned, and waited for me. Of course, she didn’t mean it. She just wanted me to go with her. And she knew how to bend me to her will. She always did.

I sighed, pressing my index fingers firmly against my temples. I didn’t need this today. Or any day, really. But as I opened my eyes I saw her peering at me over the slope of her shoulder and was powerless once again. Wordlessly, I rolled my eyes and followed behind her as she giggled and led the way out onto the sand.

It only took her a few steps to remove her strappy heels and fan her long hair out behind her with a huff. “Too hot,” she mumbled, adjusting the strap of her silk dress. “I’d go naked if I thought you wouldn’t hate me for it,” she teased with a glance my way and a cheeky grin.

“I wouldn’t hate you for something you did while you were drunk,” I said, crossing my arms as I matched her slow, stumbling pace.

The beach was serene, only a few people wandering through the sand. We walked parallel to the crashing, navy blue waves and each step took us further and further from the businesses lining the north side of the beach. We were getting close. Just around that cliffside, if we clung to the rocks, we’d emerge on the other side. All alone there.

“Joon?” she asked, staring up at me with round eyes.

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” she asked, furrowing her dark brow.

I clamped my mouth shut and let my eyes fall to my feet on the sand. “I…sorry,” I said with a sigh.

“We’re almost there, aren’t we?” she asked with a nod. “I’ll forgive you this time because we’re almost there.”

I inhaled sharply through my nose and turned my eyes toward her. She was bathed in silver moonlight, fair skin glowing. Beautiful. “Why were you out drinking?”

“Am I not allowed?” she asked with a smirk.

I sighed. “It’s a weekday, Hani.”

“And I don’t have work tomorrow so what’s the harm?” She groaned and shook out her hands with a disgruntled huff. “You’re so stiff. This is why I broke up with you.”

There it was. “Hani, you need to go home.”

“And you never fight back,” she mumbled. “Making me the bad guy for saying anything in the first place.” She examined her hand for a moment, pouting.

“I don’t think it’s good for us to keep seeing each other,” I said carefully, choosing my words with care. I watched her expression go from sulky to petulant in a blink. She turned to me, eyes sharp. “It’s not healthy.”

She scoffed. “Why not?” she asked. “We were friends before we started dating, weren’t we? Why can’t we be friends now?”

“Because I don’t see you as just a friend and I think you know that,” I said, scanning her.

She opened and closed her mouth like a hinge before settling on closed and turning her head toward the shoreline. She stopped walking, crossed her arms, and watched the water for a long, silent moment.

“They’re finalizing it,” she said quietly as her eyes went distant. “My parents.”

I blinked at her. “They’re…really?”

She nodded. “That’s why I’m out tonight,” she said, voice soft against the water. “Mom called this morning and told me. Like it was nothing for her.”

“Hani…”

“Like it’s easy,” she said, wiping beneath her eyes with her free hand. “I texted Sooyoung but she didn’t reply. She saw it though. Just…didn’t reply.”

Gently, I came to rest beside her. I thought about wrapping an arm around her small, trembling shoulders and holding her close. But the intoxicating scent of her rosy perfume even from this distance was enough to keep that idea at bay. Instead, I simply rested my palm against her back and gave her a pat.

“I’m worried Sooyoung is gonna start up again,” she said with a sigh as she scratched her nose. “Like she did last year. I dunno…a divorce is a big deal for someone her age. She’s sixteen now, you know? Did I tell you that?” she asked, peeking up at me with glassy eyes.

“I know, Hani,” I said, smoothing my palm against her back.

She sniffled and nodded. “Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t want her to be stupid like me.”

“You’re not stupid,” I said softly, shaking my head.

She smiled, but it wasn’t all there. “You don’t have to lie. I make stupid choices. Like tonight. Calling you. I just…I want her to grow up without making the mistakes I made, you know? I don’t want her to be twenty-four, drunk, crying on the beach with her ex-boyfriend.” She shook her head. “Or worse.”

“Stop thinking about all that, okay?” I said, patting her back once more before dropping my hand. “You need to get home.”

She eyed me sidelong, long eyelashes stained white against the moonlight. She was calmer now, more reasonable. Softly, she sighed and nodded her head. “Okay,” she said.

I nodded and turned back toward the bar, but I’d only taken one step when I felt her small hands wrap around my sides, clasping at my stomach. She rested her cheek against my back and my whole body went stiff. I felt her chest against me, her arms firm around my torso. And just like that, she held onto me. Like a life preserver, keeping her afloat. And it might have felt nice if it wasn’t so cruel.

“Thank you, Joonie,” she said softly against my back.

I cleared my throat and patted the top of her hand. “Let’s…let’s get you home.”

Hani: Thanks for everything tonight, Joonie.

I stared at my phone screen, holding it right above my face as I lie on my back in bed. I sighed and let my felt hand fall against the comforter, squinting at the phone. The message sat like an omen before me, like the promise of something I didn’t dare to hope for. I knew better than to respond. I knew better than to answer her call in the first place. I knew better than to meet her for coffee or dinner or movies after we ended. I knew better than to respond.

Namjoon: Of course. You know I still care about you.

Hani: I know. I care about you too :-)

I felt my chest constrict. How stupid. I slid my phone to rest on my nightstand and caught the time out the corner of my eye. 11:15. I had to be up early tomorrow to work on the game. Really, I should have been asleep an hour ago.

And here I was. Still stuck where I’ve always been.

I shook my head, giving my chest a few hard pats. If I thought about it too long, I’d end up moping. Instead, I simply stayed there, resting against the plush of my pillow, staring up at the ceiling until my heavy eyelids drifted shut and my breaths came more slowly.

Huh. I glanced around the depthless blackness and blinked a few times. Lucid dreaming again? I furrowed my brow and gave my jaw a scratch. Well, Hani hugging me probably did something weird to my brain. I stretched my torso this way and that, cracked my knuckles.

“Good timing,” I said to myself as I took a sweeping look around. “What’ll it be tonight?” A smile crept across my lips as I rubbed my palms together.

“Namjoon?”

I jumped, a scream escaping me from someplace deep in my chest, and whipped around in a half-circle towards the source of the voice. And that’s when I saw her. My eyes went wide, gaping, as the memories came flooding back in a wave that nearly bowled me over.

Standing in a baggy sleep shirt and too-big patterned pajama pants was the girl from the night before. Eunbyul. Her hair was a mess of black curls waving around her chin, furrowing her strong brow at me. Like the night before, she possessed a sad, quiet kind of charm. With slightly downturned eyes and clothes that looked like they might swallow her whole, she was the sort of person you wanted to take care of. The kind of person you worried didn't take care of themselves.

She pushed round-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose with a sniff and gave me a squint, face flushed. Had she been crying again? Was she scared again? She remembered my name, but did she remember everything else?

Suddenly, my heart was racing and so was my head and anxious questions began swirling around my mind, impossible to ignore. But when I spoke, none of them came out. Instead-

“You’re here again,” I said, unable to stop myself.

She blinked at me and for a long moment, we simply locked eyes. Neither said anything, perhaps both of us being too wary of the other to speak. But after an endless silence, she cracked a crooked smile, revealing bright teeth and a pleasant pinch in the apples of her cheeks.

She chuckled, rubbing the bare back of her neck. “Ah, uh…yeah. I guess,” she said, voice soft. She had a peculiar sort of voice, breathy, almost uncertain. I was certain I’d recognize it anywhere.

I opened and closed my jaw a few times, struggling for words, before simply settling for a laugh. “Well, uh…hi,” I said with a smile.

She returned it, albeit hesitantly. She crossed her arms over her torso and her eye went hazy with thought. “Say, did you remember the dream from last night?” she asked, brows knit as she met my eyes once more.

I shook my head. “Not until I saw you.”

She set her lips thin and fixed me with a serious upward glance. “Same here.”

“Huh…”

She paced around in the dark for a moment, mouth pursed in thought, pausing every few paces to adjust her glasses. “I wonder why…”

I chuckled. “Well,” I began, taking up the space beside her and matching her pace, stride for stride, “the memory is unreliable. Some people can’t remember their dreams at all unless they write them down right away.”

She halted her pacing and crossed her arms, looking up at me. “This feels different though, doesn’t it? Like…I don’t know, like the memory of the dream just got wiped completely.”

“If you’re gonna keep getting hung up on all the details that don’t make sense, you’re gonna be here all night,” I said, then laughed. “No pun intended.”

She scoffed. “How can you be so blasé about all this? Aren’t you…freaked out?” she asked, voice getting quieter as she lost her steam.

I shrugged. “None of this adds up anyway. So why not just enjoy it?” I asked, cocking a brow with a smile.

“It’s…it’s not that easy, you know,” she said, then sighed. “You’re…I guess you’re more adaptable than me.”

I paused a moment, scanning her. Her somber eyes were set on the nothing beneath her bare feet, arms wrapped around her torso like she was holding herself together at the seams. I swallowed hard and thought for a moment, focusing hard on a memory.

When I opened my eyes we were standing in the middle of an empty footpath, blooming trees and bushes creating a blanket that stretched on before us. Vibrant pinks, oranges, and yellows dotted the foliage that sloped downhill before us, like a mural. Down the path, a pond and a few traditional buildings. The sun was tempered by gently rolling clouds, and the sky felt limitless overhead.

And there were no people besides us.

After all, my brain couldn’t conjure all the faces I saw that day.

She blinked at the scenery around her, wind rustling through the trees, caressing the baby hairs along her temples. Her eyes went wide, lips forming an O, and her hands fell to her sides as she whirled around a few times, looking at the view from all angles.

“What-,” she began, then looked back at me, wild. “Namjoon, what’s all this?”

I smiled and stretched my arms out wide, embracing the abundance around me. “The Garden of Morning Calm,” I said. “I came here when I was a kid. Back when I lived in Sangdo-dong.”

“You lived there too?” she asked, brows high.

I nodded, taking a few easy steps down the path. She jogged to reach me, still staring up at me, imploring. “Yeah, when I was young. Anyway…I just…,” I began, feeling sheepish under her disarming gaze. I glanced away, toward the horizon line, and cleared my throat. “This place makes me feel calm, so I figured maybe it would do the same for you.”

She slowed down a little, watching me from behind for a moment before catching up once again. She stumbled a little over her pajama bottoms. “I-it does,” she said, catching herself before she tripped. She kept her eyes down, watching her feet carefully, as she found her pace beside me. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I know I must seem…kinda nonchalant about all this but….” I shrugged and took a deep breath of the fresh, autumn air. “I dunno. This place…it’s pretty incredible.”

“Funny,” she said with a soft chuckle. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been terrified of this dream but…you’ve been enjoying it, huh?”

I smiled. “It’s like a little vacation from life, I guess,” I said, and I almost regretted it. Way to go, I thought with a cringe, saying something sad like that to a stranger…

But to my relief, she simply offered a pensive hum and a nod. “I never thought of it that way.”

I blinked at her, silhouetted against the fall foliage and vibrant sun, and saw in her expression nothing but a pensive quietude. Like I could have said anything she she wouldn’t have thought I was strange. I felt my cheeks warm a little, and cleared my throat.

“Up here is a gazebo,” I said, pointing up ahead.

She squinted down the path and smiled softly. “Nice,” she said.

I chuckled. “Those glasses…you weren’t wearing them last night,” I said, reaching out to guide them up her nose again. “The nose pads are too far apart.”

She jumped a little at my touch before settling and squaring a look at me. “Well, they’re old,” she said with a little purse of her lips, crossing her arms as we neared the gazebo. “I didn’t want to be a bother when I got them fitted, so I just said they were fine.”

She led the way inside, ducking her head just a little as she crossed the three-stepped threshold into the structure. Crawling greenery stretched out across the exterior, and some of the vines reached through the cracks in the ceiling, but it felt nice in the shade. Gently, she took a seat and exhaled, patting the tops of her pajamaed thighs. She glanced up at me as I stood in the center of the rounded room and raised her brows.

“You gonna sit?” she asked, taking a peek at the space beside her on the dark wood bench.

“Ah…sure.” I quickly joined her, aware of the slightly awkward space between us. Despite being in this dream together, we were strangers after all. What could we really talk about?

“I had an appointment today in Sangdo-dong,” she began, watching her bare toes. “With my therapist.”

“Therapist?” I asked, then shook my head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

She chuckled. “Not like either of us will remember this in the morning anyway,” she said with a shrug. “But…yeah, a therapist.”

I inhaled fresh air and sighed slowly. I knew I shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t pry, but she was right anyway. What’s the use in holding back in a situation like this? “What for?”

“Anxiety,” she said with a sigh. “Since I was young. Before the dreams even.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding. I eyed her, careful not to say something insensitive, and saw again that thoughtful, distant look. “How did it go?”

“Not well.”

“Oh…”

“I told him I’ve been struggling trying to figure things out, and he told me I needed to spend more time thinking on it,” she said with a scoff. “Imagine that. Thinking more about something I think about all day.”

“What’re you struggling with?” I asked, and regretted it right after. Too far, definitely. She’d fix me with a glare and we wouldn’t speak anymore. She’d be rightfully put off.

“Trying to find something that makes me feel like a person,” she said with a single nod.

And with that, my heart rate slowed. Such a simple sentence, but it packed a punch. “I understand that,” I said.

She glanced at me. “How?”

“Well…sometimes it’s easy to get swept up in the swing of surviving and forget what it is that makes you feel alive,” I said, and against my will my mind returned to the beach last night, staring at the slope of Hani’s shoulder, her eyes glittering. I cleared my throat and leaned back.

She smiled. “Seems like you need to talk more than I do,” she said, raising her brows.

I swallowed hard and focused on my clasped hands. “Just…someone from my past.”

“You don’t have to be vague with me,” she said with a laugh. “Like I said, I won’t remember anyway.” She seemed…lighter tonight than she had before. Almost like something bobbing in the water, coming up for air and staying there, suspended.

“My ex,” I said, sighing. “She’s…she’s difficult.”

Eunbyul raised her brows. “You fighting?”

I smiled. “No, no. Nothing like that, just…we can’t seem to get a clean break, you know? Like…we can’t move on from being around each other. Even though it’s unhealthy,” I said, then shook my head. “I’m sure you get it.”

“I don’t,” she said, stretching her torso this way and that before settling and meeting my eyes, innocent. I furrowed my brow, and she maintained her gaze. “I’ve never dated.”

“Huh?” I asked, surprised.

She laughed. “I don’t really know how to interact with people,” she said with a nod. “Or maybe…I can interact if there’s no pressure. Like right now. If I don’t feel like I’m in the way or being a burden.” She waved her hands. “Anyway, tell me more so I can understand.”

I blinked at her, at the round, flushed apples of her cheeks, the flashing whites of her eyes as she turned her head to look at the trees swaying before us. “Um…,” I began, thinking. “Well…we’ve been friends for a long time. So breaking up was tricky, you know? What was our relationship supposed to be from then on? Did we go back to friends? Did we cut ties? Did we slowly distance ourselves?”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I see.”

“I think…for me, the healthiest option is to completely remove her from my life, you know? It’s no good for me to keep spending time with her.” I wrung my hands a little and sighed. “I can’t figure out where the boundaries are anymore.”

“Have you talked to her about it?” asked Eunbyul, poking her big toe against the wood floorboard.

“I…kinda.”

“Kinda isn’t really good enough,” she said, still poking, eyes transfixed on her foot, hands gripping the bench seat. “In relationships, you have to be explicit to avoid misunderstandings. Communication is the most important thing,” she said, then chuckled. “Although I’m not the authority on all that.” She paused her poking and met my eyes with a gentle, knowing smile. “If you don’t know where the boundaries are, you gotta place them yourself.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my thoughts evaded me the longer she looked up at me, strands of waving hair falling behind her glasses, touching the tops of her eyes. It looked like she expected something from me. Not a response or a reaction, not really anything like that.

It seemed like all she expected was for me to understand her.

I nodded. “That’s…shockingly astute,” I said with a laugh, rubbing my jaw as I finally broke the tense eye contact.

She smiled and leaned back against the bench. “I wanna try showing you something,” she said, standing to her feet and padding gently toward the center of the gazebo. She turned to me. “Just…try to see it in my head?”

“See it, feel it, hear it, smell it,” I said, then smirked. “Taste it, if you can.”

She laughed and nodded. “I’ll…I’ll try tasting it then,” she said as she shut her eyes tight.

For a moment, nothing changed. Just the same gazebo, the same scent of damp wood and crisp air, the same sunlight stretching in shafts between branches. But after a few moments, I saw something on the horizon. The sky was bleeding from cerulean to navy blue, stretching slowly overhead. The scenery went fuzzy before disappearing entirely and emerging again, morphed. The geological features began to sharpen as Eunbyul simply stood there, eyes shut, a charming wrinkle between her brows as she concentrated. And, before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of a desert I didn’t recognize, midnight sky above and orange sand underfoot. I scanned the area and saw open space in every direction, rock stacks eroded over time standing erect around the horizon. In the sky was a portrait of stars, so many I couldn’t possibly count them, and small shrubby bushes punctured the iron-red ground as it extended endlessly.

Eunbyul opened her eyes and, without sparing a single moment, broke into an infectious grin that pulled her eyes nearly shut and exposed her canines. She turned around a few times before laughing and clapping her hands. “No way!” she exclaimed, and her voice echoed through the canyon.

I smiled. “What’s this place?” I asked.

She turned to me with a wild, breathless smile and I felt my heart kick up. Just a little. A warm desert wind swept through the valley and kicked up dust, playing with the ends of her dark hair. “I went camping once on a vacation to the US. With my family. This was my favorite night. Nobody around, just us,” she said with a nod, bending her neck so she could stare right at the sky. She pointed. “See all the constellations?”

I raised my brows and glanced up with her. Indeed, it seemed the stars, although innumerable, were positioned perfectly. I recognized the Big Dipper, dangling in the sky like it was pouring stars onto black and blue canvas of sky.

“Do you know a lot about constellations?” I asked.

“Gaeul taught me on this trip,” she said, grinning, then snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Sorry, Gaeul is my sister.” She was still smiling like mad, and her eyes were alight for the first time since we met.

I nodded. “Tell me something about them,” I said, smiling gently as I sat down on the dusty earth.

She joined me, holding her knees close to her chest, and pointed at the sky. “That’s Ursa Major,” she said, and I followed her eyes to the big dipper. “The ladle is just part of the bigger constellation, you know? It’s supposed to look like a bear.” She laughed, and the sound was soft, almost like an exhale. “In Roman myths, it’s all about Jupiter and Callisto and jealousy and turning into bears, but I like the Korean myth better.”

“What’s that?” I asked, dropping my eyes from the sky to her.

“There was a widow who had seven sons, and became fond of a widower across the river. Her sons wanted to help her cross the water, so they each put down a stone for her to walk across. The mother didn’t know her sons put the rocks in the water. But she was grateful so she blessed the stones and when her sons died, they became stars,” she said, smiling so softly it was barely there. Just a tilt of her lips.

I watched her as she spoke, barely lit by the moon and the stars, eyes aglow. It was familiar, like before with Hani. But this felt decidedly different. Everything was different.

If only I could remember it in the morning…

“That’s a beautiful story,” I said with a smile.

She turned to me and nodded. “I think so too,” she said, then sighed and gave my shoulder a pat. “You’re a good person, Namjoon. I can tell.”

I chuckled. “And you’re not as bad at socializing as you think you are.”

She smirked. “I told you,” she began, leaning back on her palms with a sigh. “Low stakes make it easy to say what you want without being scared.”

“I wonder why we keep ending up here together,” I pondered idly.

She smiled. “You’re the one who said not to get hung up on the details that don’t make sense,” she said, then turned her head to look at the stars again.

“You seem awfully easygoing,” I remarked with a laugh.

She grinned and her eyes went small again. “I see what you mean now,” she said, sighing. “About this being like a vacation from life.”

I watched her for a moment before I felt something tugging. Just like before. And, from the way her eyes got round and her shoulders pinched, I was pretty sure Eunbyul felt it too. We locked gazes, neither one saying anything, and struggling against the pull in my chest, I reached out my hand, extending it toward her.

She blinked at it before, wordlessly, she took it in both of hers and shook it up and down. “Until next time,” she said with a serious look my way.

I nodded, letting my hand fall against the dirt. “Until next time.”

I awoke with heart palpitations. Blinking rapidly, I rubbed my face and patted down the sweat that had begun to dot my forehead. I glanced toward the clock on the wall. 4:03 again. Grumbling, I turned over onto my stomach and smashed my face against the pillows, yanking my blankets over my head.

“Stupid brain,” I mumbled into the sheets, exhaling long and slow.

I tried to force myself back to sleep, tried to will my brain to power down like an old desktop computer. I rolled onto my side, curling my legs up toward my chest. When that didn’t work, I thumped over onto my back once more and spread my arms wide, like I was physically begging for the embrace of unconsciousness. Long seconds ticked by, marked with the sound of my clock, always ticking like a metronome.

“Ugh,” I groaned, sitting upright with a frown. I glanced around the room and saw my phone still sitting on the charger. If I wasn’t getting back to sleep, the least I could do to sate my hyperactive brain was scroll mindlessly through Twitter.

I grabbed for the phone and unlocked it, but before I could tap the little blue app icon, I noticed a new text message in the bottom corner of the screen. I raised my brows and opened it. Sent at 2:39 AM.

Hani: Call me please.

Panic.

I jumped up and sat on my knees, typing her number in by heart. I pressed the phone to my ear and listened with bated breath to the dial tone. It was taunting me, every painfully slow drone and the endless pauses between. I counted five rings before they stopped altogether and I was met with nothing but radio silence.

“Hani?” I asked, frantic, breathless.

She sniffled on the other end and I collapsed against my bed with relief. “Hey.”

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” I asked, words stumbling into one another like a clumsy line.

“Sorry, it’s just…,” she began, then sniffled again. “It’s Sooyoung.”

“Fuck, Hani, is she alright? Is she safe?” I asked, heart hammering.

“Yeah, yeah she’s fine,” she said. “God, I’m so sorry. I keep doing this.”

“Hani what happened?”

She paused a moment before taking a shaky breath in. “She called me drunk.”

I was silent, just listening to the arrhythmic pattern of her breath. “Hani…”

“It’s fine, I called my folks and they found her in the basement. But…fuck, I dunno I got, like, a glimpse into her future,” she said, then paused. “And it looks a lot like mine.”

“Hani, are you alright?” I asked carefully, resting against the pillows with furrowed brows. “Have you slept?”

“Can’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Joonie,” she said with a sigh. “I just…Joon, could I…could I maybe come over? Watch a movie or something?”

I stiffened. Bad idea. Horrible, terrible, really bad idea. Blurring more lines, crossing more barriers…at this rate, I’d be heartbroken until the day I died. It wasn’t like I was her only friend. She’d always been popular, and even when we were dating she’d go to Joohee before she’d ever go to me with a problem. Why now did it seem like she needed me so profoundly?

If you don’t know where the boundaries are, you gotta place them yourself.

I felt my stomach pang a little. Where had I heard that? Gently, I patted my chest in the hopes of settling my heart down. I knew what the right decision was. It was painfully obvious to anyone that I couldn’t let her come over, let her cross the threshold and reenter my intimate space. I knew the implications.

I sighed and braced myself, holding the phone close against my hot cheek. I shut my eyes, ran a hand through my unruly hair, and nodded my head. “Um…,” I began, opening my eyes only halfway to stare with disappointment at the clock across from my bed. “Yeah, Hani. Of course.”