#i need my 8 hours of sleep or i won’t function for a whole day

[sukirichi]

i’m gonna sound stupid for saying this but i’m acc very upset that real life is keeping me away from being a loser here 😔

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 10,680

Notes: Holy shit, it's been like 3 months?????? In my defense, holidays are awful, and this is a fuckin' beast of a chapter. Binnie would NAWT shut up T^T She almost matches the word count for the entire fic so far TT^TT Plus 10 images of texting. Y am i like this??? Huge shout outs to my lovely, patient, amazing betas who made this chapter at ALL possible, @lazyfacecowboy and @brbwritingfanfic. Seriously, this would not have been written without y'all, everyone say thank you! Also special mention for @chancloud8 for negotiating me through the last bit of the chapter LMAO. She kept feeding me fics, they were my reward for doing the writing UvU

Hope y'all enjoy! And I hope it was worth the wait <3

(p.s my ass did NOT do a real final readthrough. If the formatting is weird pls forgive me, I'm sick of looking @ her T^T)

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Allusions to past domestic violence, flashback of verbal abuse (very vague, but still there), panic attack, she/her reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (Coming Soon <3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You honestly wish you could. Just rot away and let all this soulmate business pass you by as you slowly return to the earth.

Alas, capitalism waits for no man.

You examine your reflection when you’ve finished, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as waterproof as advertised.

You try to hold onto the flash of irritation the sight brings you, to cling to the normalcy of being irritated that your makeup is waterproof enough to be a pain to remove, but not to stay through your tears. Then you remember what you’d been crying over and the pit of fear and shame that’s been your companion the last few days comes rolling back.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. Don’t feel like you deserved to cry. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the incoming spiral, ambling your way into the kitchen. You just need to fall back on your routines and feel normal for a bit. You’re not entirely convinced that ignoring your problems won’t make them go away, despite the dark feelings trembling in your chest.

You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

Your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. Especially when he knows you’re not feeling your best. The little note on top isn’t new either: usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually, and you’re always touched by his consideration.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

The $20 you’d slapped onto the counter last night is taped to the back. It feels a bit like a stone hand is crushing your heart under the weight of something unknowable and precious when you carefully tuck both the money and the note into your wallet.

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into cold eggs, well...

That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym. You’ll drag yourself through your routine with leaded limbs if you have to, you’re going to have the most regular day you can manage and everything will be fine. It has to be.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. The sight makes you uneasy, almost uncomfortable. It takes you a moment to realize why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels so foreign to you today.

It’s almost alarming to acknowledge that you haven’t actually looked at your mark since you’d met your first soulmate. The concert feels like a lifetime ago, now, despite having been barely two days ago. You’re a bit ashamed to admit that you’d been avoiding looking at it since you’d felt the first flowers bloom.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird, you muse as you study it now. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

Something wilted and small within you mourns the loss of the buds that had brought you so much comfort since they’d appeared. The new blooms are beautiful, of course, vibrant and radiant and full of so much meaning. Still, the change wounds you.

Only time will tell if it’s the healing sort of hurt.

You find your eyes glued to the fresh flowers. Their names come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads, ‘for gratitude, affection, and endurance’. Your fingers dance a bit lower. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star, ‘for devotion, nobility, and courage’.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

It started with lazy summer days you’d been almost too young to remember. A slim hand engulfing your tiny wrist, being made to sit next to your mother while she did something in the dirt, her shadow your only shelter from the blistering sun.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many hazy afternoons learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by the time your sister had reached her toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny capable hands.

You’d spent hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants.

What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden, you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak—despair— that had marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside.

You don’t remember what he’d said. It’d been nonsense, just vitriol for vitriols' sake. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time.

It may have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled, and yelled, and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything. He hadn’t even made sense.

And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, the soil you’d once called home no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you’d left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming emanates from your soulmark, and its warmth draws you back to the present. You look down at it, noticing how tightly you're clutching at the garden around your waist, your arms wrapped around you in a weak semblance of a hug. Each of your fingers had managed to directly touch a flower.

The awkward sprawl of your fingers feels natural, as if you’d never sought to comfort yourself any other way. As if seeking out your bond, your link to total strangers, for comfort was all you’d ever done.

It was natural, you muse. It was human nature to seek resonance in their bonded. It was the universe’s way of assuring you that you’re loved. Your soulmate’s way of assuring you that they’re still there.

You gingerly pry your hands away and blankly study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw marks in this garden too. If they’ll leave claw marks in you.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the warm, gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You know it means the people on the other end are pressing against their own marks. You know it shows their care, how that gentle sensation masks the stinging ache your fingers should have left behind.

For some reason, you miss the pain.

You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment, your mind pleading normal, normal, normal.

Maybe jogging all the way to the gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

You enter the building after guzzling down half of your water bottle, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do kind of wanna go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but while you’d successfully outrun your demons (for now), your bad mood had stuck around.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and found the public there. A travesty. Knowing that you just have to deal with it, you cross your arms and bite back the irritation this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, he’s also the only thing around to rest your eyes on, so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them. A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it.

Large, boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists filling in the rest with a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

Beautiful as it is, you can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such gorgeous ink is quite the task, but you don’t want your admiration to be mistaken for judgement. It gets easier when you start to notice just how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his body, now that you’re no longer anchored to his tattoo. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove this man has done it. You’re jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they didn't. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze. Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to have gone a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know that’s true, the receptionist isn’t trying to scam the guy. Even the trial period for this place was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

You send your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (His name is Jake, you remind yourself by reading his name-tag. The owner’s nephew, if you recall) looks relieved to see you after whatever hassling the stranger had given him.

He lazily waves the clipboard and its sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write.

Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

It also happens to give Jake a view of his own, but you magnanimously ignore his gaze wandering to your chest. If only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

You weren’t close to the receptionist by any means, but Jake is easy to chat to, when you take the extra minute to do so. The type of acquaintance you’d never remember the name of if it weren’t pinned to his lapel, but you've seen pictures of every dog he’s ever had.

It makes it easy to pry him for gossip.

“So what was that all about?” You query as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you, typing a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Situations like that weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw its fair share of famous faces.

Due to its occasionally high-profile clientele, security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

Non-members weren’t allowed past reception at all.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental looks. Most people who utilized this space were much more fit and put together than you. You tried not to let it bother you.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for celebrities?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity(?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Your visitor pass wasn’t all-access, of course. It’d just get the poor guy into the main front room plus the locker rooms and showers, but you figured it’d be better than nothing. It wasn’t like Taylor would step foot in here after you’d run him ragged last time, not even for the moral support.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard- it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with its quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require its security and discretion like some of the other members did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks, handing you a different clipboard. “There are easier ways to bag a celebrity.”

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, fully ignoring the suggestion of your motives as you start to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because ‘some guy’ is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “What? It’s public information.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with his research, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

It’s not like he’ll be fired for doing it, as long as you don’t go blabbing about the poor celebrity outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism.

You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of your on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful for your offer to find you terribly strange.

You manage to make it all the way through your warm-ups before your good deed gets punished. You suppose you’ll be grateful to the universe for letting you find your zen on your yoga mat before it dropped the other shoe.

You notice the legs in the mirror before you realize someone is trying to speak to you. You accidentally ignore the newcomer for several long moments, assuming they were approaching to use a different part of the mirror. When you finally realize they’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, it’s been just shy of too long.

You ease out of your last stretch and stand up, automatically taking an earbud out as you turn to face them.

“Sorry, did you need me to move?” You question as you finally look up. You‘d had your most emo playlist blasting in your ears during your warm up, an attempt to process your feelings through movement or whatever that one instructor from forever ago had tried to teach you.

So of course it’s with perfect clarity that A. Jay Popoff sings “I am my own worst enemy” into the empty space between you and Seo motherfuckin’ Changbin.

Your mental plea for a normal, routine sort of day dies a horrible death when you make eye contact with the pop-star.

And you realize you really must be your worst enemy as you do, because you easily recognize the outfit he’s wearing and the vivid tattoos on his arm.

Of course your good deed for the day led you to one of your soulmates. Of. Fucking. Course.

You’re not sure what you’d done to Karma recently for her to be throwing all of this shit at you right now, but you’d appreciate it if she’d just let you apologize instead of whatever cruel punishment this is.

Changbin must realize you recognize him, because he shyly raises a hand to fiddle with his earrings as he replies.

“Ah, no, I uh...” The hand slides to the back of his neck and he clears his throat uncomfortably. You quickly school your expression back into a semblance of normality when he glances away. You feel like you might still be a bit wild around the eyes, though.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He concludes. He looks like he wants to say more, but you figure he might not have the English words to do so easily. It’s okay, you don’t really have the Korean to describe how you’re feeling right now either.

Your first instinct is to offer to speak Korean for him, but the air between the two of you is already wildly uncomfortable. Vastly different causes for both of you, you’re sure, but it’s enough to make you second guess your every move.

“Oh, uh, no problem.” You assure.

You stare resolutely at his nose when you speak. If you look into his eyes again you’re sure you’ll spill your entire life story. And if not that extreme, you’ll at least spill the whole soulmate thing. Something about being directly confronted with your problems makes you chatty.

But also if you look away from his face, knowing that body is supposed to be compatible with yours... It leads to some very impolite thoughts. Cute as it is, his nose is the safest thing for you to look at right now.

You offer the idol a thin-lipped smile when you realize the interaction hasn’t ended. Dear god, why has it not ended?

“Anything else I can do for ya?” you offer, inwardly cursing your manners. You’ve lived here long enough that you know people outside your tiny country-side town take that as an invitation instead of a dismissal.

Sure enough, Changbin starts to speak again, his words slow and careful. You watch him wipe his palms on his shorts, idly wondering if he’s shitting himself internally as much as you are right now. And what he’s freaking out about if he is.

“You... Recognize me? Are you STAY?” He gestures a bit while he talks, like he’s trying to cast a spell on you to understand what he’s trying to say. You think it might work, because your mouth is running off without you before you quite process the words.

“Ahh.. hah, uh,” You chuckle awkwardly, your fingers rising to pinch your lips nervously, “My roommate is. We were at your concert the other day, actually,” And even as you say the words your eyes flick down to his arm. You refocus, hopefully before he could notice the quick glance, but you can’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

After all, he didn’t have that kind of ink at the concert. You and Taylor were front row, right up on the barricade, you’d seen all eight Stray Kids up close and personal. You’d have remembered such a vivid tattoo. And there were only so many reasons to cover a sleeve like that so completely.

Something complicated settles in your stomach as you realize that Changbin is probably a ‘loud and proud’ kind of soulmate, if he’s showing off his mark like this outside of his work. Work you know prevents him from showing off his mark.

Your mouth keeps running without you while you have your little crisis.

“I didn’t recognize you at reception, I woulda had you sign something for him.” You can’t help the rush of embarrassment that sweeps through you, even as you laugh uncomfortably at your own joke.

Why on earth would you say something like that? This situation is already uncomfortable enough! On so many levels!

Somehow, this seems to have been the right thing to say, though, as Changbin’s eyes light up at your joke, the tension easing a bit.

“I can sign,” He suggests, “It would make me feel...” He starts gesturing again, looking for the word he wants, “Less bad?” He finishes like a question.

And suddenly you understand his awkwardness a lot better. It always sucks to feel indebted to someone.

You laugh a little more freely with your new understanding, “Oh, you really don’t have to,” You assure, “I was just joking.”

He shakes his head, “Think of it as.. trade.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

You bob your head to the side, pressing your lips together with a tiny, frustrated, whine, “I really didn’t want anything from you,” you insist, “I hold onto that pass for my roommate, but he never comes with me anyways. You’re doing me a favor using it, seriously.”

You try to speak slowly and clearly, taking a page from Changbin’s book and letting your hands roam while you speak. You hope your spell of understanding works as well as his did.

He takes a moment to respond, mouthing along to some of your words. It’s kind of fascinating to watch someone translate in real time, especially when the process is written all over their face. It’s a little surreal to be on the other side of it.

Eventually his face clears, and he makes a little ‘ah!’ noise that you really shouldn’t find as endearing as you do. You’re in the middle of rejecting your soulmates, you should not be finding one of them cute right now.

“If it is roommate’s pass, more reason to sign, yes?” He reasons, looking proud of his logic. You huff a tiny laugh at him, absolutely charmed.

“Sure, big guy,” You sigh with defeat, though you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, “Sounds like a fair trade. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

The two of you stall for a moment, the atmosphere leagues lighter than before.

When the moment seems over, you make a show of looking down at your pocket-less outfit, and then at the ground around you.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” you trail off meaningfully. He looks surprised for a second, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh,” He looks around as well, lost for a moment, “I can see if front desk has one?” he asks, like he’s looking for instruction. Another thought seems to occur to him then.

“Do you have...” He starts to gesture again, but you cut him off with a nod, fairly certain you’re sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something for you to sign,” You point in the direction of the locker room, “I’ll probably have to look in my bag though.” You glance between him, the door to the locker room, and the door that leads out to reception.

“Meet back here in 5?” you propose. He seems content with this plan and nods in agreement. “Oh!” You stop him before he can fully turn around.

“Ask for a sharpie,” you instruct, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find regular paper.” In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll be sacrificing the spare ball cap you keep in your bag for this. You hope Taylor likes tie-dye.

With that, the two of you go your separate ways. It takes you no time at all to locate the bright monstrosity of a hat, a souvenir you abhorred from one of your father’s many ‘business’ trips. It would be no loss to you, but you take time to see if you have any actual paper around. You need the processing time.

Stars above, what were you thinking? There was no way you were getting out of this without another soulmate bond, but here you were, casually chatting with the guy instead of getting the fuck out of dodge!

You really couldn’t help it though.

Even when he’d been no more than a stranger to you, you hadn’t been able to help the way you gravitated toward Changbin. Now that you knew he was your soulmate, your actions made a lot more sense to you.

You’d always been on the people pleasing side of helpful, but vouching for a complete stranger was new for you. Even now, you were obediently grabbing an item for him to deface with a signature you don’t even want (no matter how thoroughly Taylor would murder you if you’d passed it up) just because you could tell how uneasy Changbin was with just accepting the visitor pass.

It didn’t help that the man was endearing as hell. Every little thing he did seemed cute to you, and you’d barely known him for ten minutes!

You felt like this was a new low for you. Doing things you didn’t really want to, for a man. Taylor would be so disappointed in you.

Having stalled for maybe far too long, you settle on sacrificing the atrocious hat to Changbin’s pen and put your stuff away. Something heavy and squirmy settles in your chest as you make your way back out to retrieve your prize from the man of the hour.

Surprisingly, there’s no accidental meeting of hands when Changbin autographs your hat. He did give you a bit of a bemused look for the choice of item, but you’d just shrugged at him. It was all you were willing to sacrifice, and Taylor should be grateful for even this much, in your opinion.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of first contact does not ease your mind at all. In fact, it rockets up your anxiety another thousand notches. You can’t help checking over your shoulder at every opportunity, despite the fact that Changbin hadn’t left the weights area since he’d settled there and couldn't follow you through the door to the rest of the facility regardless.

Look, you know how the whole first contact thing worked, okay? Fate would put two soulmates in the same place for whatever stupid reason, and find an even stupider reason for them to make skin-to-skin contact. You’d experienced it twice now, and you couldn’t help but think going out of your way to avoid everything Changbin was wouldn’t help you very much.

Even still, you can’t stay paranoid and vigilant forever. When nothing happens while you finish your cardio, or when you work your way through both the pool and the sauna, you admittedly let down your guard a bit.

Maybe that’s why, after you’ve made your way back to the front room to try and finish your workout, when you’re mid-stretch and staring daggers at a weight machine you’re sure you’ll figure out how to use if you glare long enough, you jump about five miles out of your skin when you hear Changbin’s voice behind you.

Jumping from such a precarious position is never a good idea, and your sudden movement has set your head on a one-way collision course with the gym’s hardwood floors about it.

Hands fly around your middle, catching you awkwardly around your ribs. Unfortunately, all this noble attempt to catch you does is slow your descent, giving you just enough time to flinch violently enough to bring your arms up and prevent your head from meeting the ground and brace for impact.

The rest of you still hits the ground pretty hard, and Changbin’s knees and elbows meet a similar fate, his own head saved by headbutting your stomach, knocking the air out of you even harder than it already had been.

The two of you sit there a moment, groaning with the pain of your fall. At least you don’t have a concussion. You’ll take every small mercy with the way the universe has treated you lately.

Some part of you is cognizant enough to give the heavens a heartfelt thank you when you notice that none of your aches and pains are from your soulbond activating. Somehow, through that entire debacle, and even considering the amount of exposed skin between your t-shirt and his, you hadn’t managed to touch. You’re still safe.

As the shock starts to wear off, you start to become aware of the warmth of large hands still resting heavily against your sides, both soothing and wildly distracting. It’s like every fiber of your being is focused on where he’s touching you, warm and weighty. Changbin’s head still buried in your abdomen doesn’t help with the building fluster taking over your brain.

You swear one of his thumbs has landed squarely on one of the flower buds directly opposite Lee Know’s Bellflowers, and the tingly feeling of the bond weakly trying and failing to establish through the thin barrier of your shirt is not helping your mushy brain at all.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like confessing all of your sins to Changbin right then and there.

Maybe you did have a concussion after all.

It’s probably been less than a minute since the two of you hit the floor, but it feels like ten hours have passed when Changbin finally lifts his head, wide eyes finding yours frantically.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?” He uses his hold on you to gently lift you to a seated position, removing them in favor of hovering politely as he fusses. You don’t think he’s realized he’s reverted to his native Korean in his panic.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” you assure him in the same language, “Just bruised a bit, I’m fine.”

He continues to fuss a bit more, running you through a quick series of concussion tests even after you tell him that you hadn’t hit your head at all. It’s only after he’s helping you to your feet, respectfully allowing you to use a clothed part of his arm to help yourself up, that he clocks the language the both of you are using.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He teases, “You speak Korean all of the sudden.”

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, nor can you help how his smug little smile makes your heart flutter. “I’ve spoken Korean the whole time.” You inform him.

“And you didn’t tell me? You just let me struggle?” The fondness in his smile assures you that he’s just joking, so you respond in kind.

“You were just trying so hard...” You shrug sheepishly and delight in the full body laugh that tears out of him. You wait for him to calm before you ask, “What did you need, by the way? I didn’t catch what you said before, well..” You gesture helplessly at the floor.

It’s his turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hiking up and a nervous hand making its way to his neck, “Ah, that.” he shrugs, “I was just saying that you had a pretty soulmark.”

The sudden compliment catches you off guard, and you suddenly become aware that your camisole has come loose from where it had been tucked into your sweats. Your hand flies up to cover the now-covered skin of your stomach, feeling sick.

You can’t remember when it happened, and the thought of however many strangers seeing your soulmark, no matter how little of it, sends a sharp note of dread through your body. You suddenly feel eyes digging into your skin, despite being covered again as soon as you’d stood up. You feel a bit sick, your skin crawling with discomfort.

You’re aware that your camisole would have ridden up to your lower back, at most, but there’s no telling how much of your mark anyone might have seen. What Changbin might have seen, what he may have noticed.

Changbin must notice your sudden pallid complexion, and continues on, trying to reassure you, probably. You barely hear him over the heartbeat in your ears, your trembling hands trying to discreetly tuck the undershirt back in while he speaks.

“I just meant that it’s very colorful and vibrant,” He explains, smile fading from his face as concern starts to cloud it at your reaction, “Whoever your soulmate is, they’re very lucky.”

“Ah, I don’t know them yet,” You counter. It’s even the truth. You hadn’t spoken much to any of your soulmates so far. Well, until now, you guess.

“Oh, well, I stand by what I said.” He asserts, his easy grin betrayed by the pinch between his brows, “Whoever your soulmate is will be very lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” You tilt your head with self-deprecating consideration.

Maybe it’s a lingering guilt for how you’ve been handling your soulmates so far that makes you continue the thought, instead of laughing it off like the joke it should be. Maybe you just want him- want them- to know why you’ve been acting this way, “I don’t even know if I want to meet them, so I’m not sure how lucky they could be to have me as a soulmate.”

Changbin levels you with an absolutely baffled look, as if you’ve just challenged the very foundation of his worldview.

“Why not?” He asks, “Doesn’t everyone want to meet their soulmate?”

You wrap yourself in a loose hug, one hand rubbing soothingly at your elbow, and shrug, “I just... I haven’t had great experiences with soulmates, is all.” You can’t keep your eyes from straying to his soulmark, vibrant and full.

It’s an image that would be hard to elbow your way into, and you can’t imagine a way that the addition of you could possibly enhance it. It still feels unfinished to you, but it doesn’t look that way. You feel both better and worse about yourself, knowing that they didn’t need you.

A glance at Changbin’s utterly lost face has you opening your mouth before you can think about it, shoulders beginning to climb up to your ears.

“Not all soulmates get along, you know?” You mutter sullenly, almost to yourself.

Changbin seems to consider this for a moment, head tilting cutely to the side as he takes in your claim.

“I mean, sure.” He draws his words out slowly, carefully, with a little furrow between his brows. “Everyone fights sometimes, but you get through it together, right? That’s what makes you soulmates. Choosing to stick together.”

You couldn’t hold in the scoff and eye-roll combo that rips out of you if you’d tried. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’d feel bad about the venom in your voice, or the way it causes Changbin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Something sick and dark twists around your stomach, and the battle to keep a deep scowl from your face is the only one you’re willing to fight right now.

“I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say,” Changbin smiles wanly at you, and you meet his eyes for barely a second before you find yourself melting beneath his earnest gaze. The thorns around your heart ease just enough to bleed, and you shrug at him again.

“When people stay together just because they’re soulmates it only makes things worse.” you tell him, “Nothing gets magically fixed just because you’re soulmates.”

Surprisingly, Changbin agrees easily, “Well, yeah, that’s not the kind of sticking together I’m talking about,” He explains, “I meant more, like,” He gestures as he tries to find his words, and your heart positively aches as you realize the habit transcends languages.

You find yourself softening more and relaxing out of your defensive curl out of sheer endearment. You’re sure you’d be making absolute heart-eyes at Changbin right now if the topic at hand wasn’t so deeply uncomfortable for you.

“Ok, let me try an example,” He eventually decides, his eyes following your gaze where it had once again returned to his soulmark without your permission. He flexes a bit, making the flowers on his skin bounce and dance with a small, fond, smile. “I’m soulmates with the other members, right?”

He says it easily, casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You almost nod along, before you remember that the world at large definitely does not have that information, even if you do, and you meet his smug little smirk with wide-eyed shock.

You can’t help but gape at him for the casual confession, glancing around the empty gym like someone else might’ve heard Changbin’s brazen confession. He’s already waving you off before you can sputter out the questions stuck in your throat.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we try very hard to hide it.” He does a weird little half-nod-half-shrug motion at his soulmark, “But yeah, we’re all soulmates, and we all pretty much knew before debut, even though Innie’s mark hadn’t shown up yet.”

You do nod this time. Slowly, though, as you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Changbin takes it as permission to continue, and so he does.

“Well, Jeongin’s our baby, and even though marks show up at 18, you’re not an adult in Korea until 19, so there’s a lot we had to leave him out on.” He grimaces a little, “Being an Idol is stressful as it is, throwing a new soul bond and puberty and all that on top wasn’t very helpful. We were all volatile and fragile. But Innie definitely took it the worst. He felt left behind and unfair and angry with it all.”

He chuckles and gives a little shrug, “We had our share of knock-down, drag-outs.” He admits sheepishly, “It wasn’t an easy time for us.” He rolls his head toward the ceiling and, despite Changbin’s efforts, you can easily spot the smitten look on his face along with his cherry-red ears.

“But we made it through,” He says softly, “We took the time to dig into all of his insecurities and find what we could do to help him. He made the choice to be vulnerable and honest with us. It took time to get here, but we made it through.”

Changbin meets your eyes again, “That’s what I mean when I say soulmates are about choosing to stick together. You work through the hard times and disagreements together, work toward something better. Soulmates are destiny, but love is choice.”

You let his words rattle around your brain as you get lost in his earnest gaze. Let the idea settle into you like something entirely new, like it wasn’t your understanding of healthy relationships beforehand. Of course that’s the ideal, you know that. No one is perfect and all that, everyone disagrees sometimes. It’s discussing it and finding solutions together that makes a partnership work long-term. You know that.

For the first time, you wonder if you’d just always considered soulmates an exception to the rule.

You’d automatically assigned soulmates as a concept a failing grade at working their problems through. Your parents certainly never worked out their issues, and every soulmate you’d ever seen in the media was an automatic happy-ending. As soon as that bond snaps into place, the story’s over. Happily ever after.

You’d always thought ‘ever after’ must be an awful short time.

‘Love is choice’ echoes through you like something divine.

You break Changbin’s gaze and offer him a half-hearted shrug. “I guess.” you concede, “My soulmates probably have a lot of work cut out for them with me, though. So I still don’t know if they’d want me.”

“I think it’d be worth the work,” Changbin smiles gently at you, “To be your soulmate, I mean.”

You feel heat rush up your neck and bless your genetics for keeping it from showing on your cheeks. You disguise your bashfulness by lightly slapping Changbin’s shoulder (and woah is he solid under your hand when you do) and loudly complain about him being a flirt.

He responds by doing his best to fluster you, clearly enjoying putting those fanservice skills to use. You complain with every flex and smoulder, especially when he starts unleashing the aegyo, and the two of you let the banter and laughter chase away the somber mood.

Eventually you settle, and Changbin nods at the very intimidating machine you’d been staring at what felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Did you need a spotter?” He offers. You hem and haw for a moment, before sheepishly admitting that you need a teacher more than a spotter. When he lights up and offers to be that, too, you can’t help the way your eyes travel up and down his body with open admiration.

He certainly looks plenty qualified, and really, you’re only a girl. If your once-over leaves him with red ears and a smug grin, well. You’ll consider it your revenge for now.

You very quickly realize your mistake in letting him coach you.

Changbin tours you quickly around various machines, explaining their functions and the proper ways to use them to avoid injury. All well and good, and you ask permission to record short videos of him doing so in case you find yourself forgetting his advice, which he graciously allows on the condition you don’t share them anywhere.

You agree after negotiating for viewing rights for Taylor, with the reasoning that the lure of the videos might actually get your roommate back into the gym with you. It makes Changbin laugh enough to indulge you.

And then he actually starts you on a machine, after getting a rundown on what you’d already done today, and you experience hell on earth.

The thing is, he’s unfairly good at coaching you through it. He keeps up a steady stream of warm encouragement and light jokes even as you curse him out for steadily increasing the weights on each machine you work through. He’s right there to help you through the sets the moment you start to get too tired and is almost preternaturally good at pushing you to only just above your limits.

And his hands are always right there. He’s almost always touching you somehow, throughout the whole thing. His touch is light, coaching and clinical, and unfailingly polite. Still, the warmth of his skin through your flimsy gym-wear feels heavy. Nearly threatening. Distracting, at the very least.

You’ll definitely need those videos later.

It’s a relief when it’s over. You’re sore and sweaty and you have to go sit at a desk for six or more hours when you leave, which you’re very much not looking forward to.

Changbin splits with you to hit the showers, but somehow you still come together again before you pass reception.

“Thanks for today,” you say as the two of you stall your goodbyes, “I had a lot of fun. You’ve more than earned that guest pass.” you tease, smile wide and mischievous.

He’s smiling too, even as he shoves your shoulder and complains about you extorting him.

When you run out of things to say, you shuffle lightly in place. It’s not like you expect him to give you his number, he is an Idol after all, but still you can’t quite make yourself leave. You find yourself casting around for something, anything, to say to make the moment last. To stay in his presence just a second longer.

You shake yourself out of it once you notice. You might not be running from them anymore, but you certainly weren’t trying to make friends with your soulmates. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more likely it was that you’d end up with another first contact.

At last, after a far-too-long moment of silence, you hold out your hand and offer a flat, closed-lip smile.

“It was really nice to meet you, Changbin.” You tell him sincerely, eyes locked on his. You swear looking your soulmates in the eye is some kind of hypnosis, the way you always get lost in them when you do. Something about it just makes you feel a tiny bit dumb, like your brain gets switched off.

“You too, y/n.” He agrees, reaching for your offered hand. You only realize what you’ve just done as your name leaves his lips, your eyes widening as they dart down to his hand and yours, but it’s far too late.

Your breath hitches a moment before his skin makes contact with yours, and you watch it happen in slow motion. He grasps your hand and pulls you in instead of settling for the more distant and formal farewell. All too quickly you’re settled into his grasp, completely enveloped in him and dizzy with more than just his warmth as soft prickles dance up your side.

You feel more than you hear him gasp, his hold on you so complete. Your head ends up on his shoulder as you stumble into him from his pull, and you get a front row seat to the top of his shoulder filling in with outlines and shadows from your place tucked against his neck, dull colors adding a definition to the images in his soulmark and settling like they’d always been there.

Distantly, you feel chest tighten with completion, with satisfaction and something smug and proud at the sight, even as your mind starts screaming.

Changbin is solid against you, comforting and almost stiflingly warm from both his workout and shower. You catch a whiff of his soap, the scent muting the alarm bells blaring in your brain even as you lay limp against him with the shock.

And then his hold on you tightens just a bit, only for a moment, but it’s all that it takes for you to break.

Your breath begins to hitch, visions of sweet touches turning sour and threatening violence causing you to flinch violently in Changbin’s comforting embrace. You feel your eyes begin to wet as you start to struggle, needing out, out, out.

It must have been less than a second, but Changbin pulls back, still holding you by your shoulders like he doesn’t know how to let go.

“Y/n?” He asks, voice small. You can only shake your head, breaths coming out in harsh gasps, limbs trembling violently. Changbin hurriedly lowers the two of you to the floor, much more prepared than you are for your limbs to give out halfway down.

He finally releases you as you settle and you curl tightly into yourself. The places where he’d held you feel frozen now, the cold viciously settling into your bones, even as Changbin does his best to get your attention and guide you through a breathing exercise.

You can’t focus on him though, the sensation of flowers blooming on your skin overwhelming, the memory of his touch both welcome and suffocating.

“S- ‘orry, I’m-” You hiccup, “I’m so- so s’rry-” If Changbin is at all put off by your sudden breakdown, he doesn’t show it. He just tilts his head and offers you hushed words of assurance.

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n,” he assures, “It’s alright, just breathe, ok?”

He offers you a hand and you can’t help but take it, the warmth startling a breath into you that you hadn’t been aware you needed. Changbin guides your hand to his chest, instructing you to breathe with him, and you automatically focus on the heavy thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He keeps talking to you, trying to keep your attention, but your mind spins wildly away from you even as you finally manage a deep inhale under Changbin’s attention.

You need to tell him that you’d known since he’d first spoken to you who he was. Who he was to you, even, but you can’t open your mouth to do more than gasp another apology. You’re sure he’ll hate you, leave you there on the floor of the gym to die like you deserve, especially after all you’d told him about how you feel about soulmates.

He’ll hate you for putting his soulmates through rejection, for refusing to speak to them or even look them in the eye. He’ll leave you here, humiliated on the gym’s floor, and you’ll deserve it because you’re a horrible person who wouldn’t even give them a breadth of a chance because you were too damn scared-

A hand grasps your spare one, the one not touching him, not keeping you just barely above the waves of hyperventilating, and you hadn’t even noticed it scrabbling at the stretched out neckline of your t-shirt until it’s gently pried away and guided to a wall of firm muscle.

Your fingers instinctively grasp what’s suddenly underneath them, and your vision stutters back in as a soft tingling rockets its way up your arm.

You distantly acknowledge that it was probably a bad thing that your vision had faded off with your eyes stuck wide open, staring blankly at legs you couldn’t feel. Right now, however, all you can experience is Changbin. His mark under your fingers, grip clawing and desperate. His heartbeat under your palm, faster than it should be, but steady and loud and feeling like it’s part of your own body.

Like he knows he has your attention again, Changbin ducks down to catch your eyes. You find nothing in them but concern and a soft emotion you couldn’t hope to pinpoint.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, “Y/n, do you mind if I touch you?” The gentleness he speaks to you with is devastating, like he’s trying to place your panicked mind on a cloud of care. You want so desperately to accept that care from him.

You nod, small jerky movements to indicate your agreement even as gasping sobs still stutter in your chest.

Changbin immediately moves, shuffling closer to you on his knees and releasing the wrist of your hand, the one still grasping at his mark like it’d disappear if you relaxed so much as a millimeter. He uncrosses his arms from the awkward reach he’d had to use to maneuver your hands where he wanted them, and reaches his now free hand to rest gently but firmly on your waist, right over his place within your own mark.

The resonance from his touch is weaker, the material of your shirt in his way, but with both sides active the feeling floods you in a way you could never describe.

You know, in the back of your mind, that you’ve read about resonance before. That you know all about the flood of endorphins and other feel-good hormones that it causes, that you’ve read first hand accounts from all sorts of people swearing up and down it feels better than any orgasm ever could. In the moment though, you feel like your brain has been reset completely. Back to factory settings, entirely blank.

You come back to yourself in slow blinks, resonance still echoing brightly between you and Changbin. Your one hand is still tightly clasped to his chest, and you’re sure you’re only breathing right now due to the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest. The two of you are still gripping each other’s marks.

You feel unsettled as awareness returns to your body. You feel floaty and not all there, even as you calm enough to feel the numbness of your legs and the pain in your knees from hitting the floor. An increasingly familiar tingling feeling is emanating from each of your active soulmarks, despite the fact that you know the other two should have no idea how you’re feeling right now.

Your bond wasn’t strong enough for that. You hadn’t given it the chance to be.

The thought that they might just be thinking of you gives you a soft and fluttery sort of feeling.

Finally, Changbin pulls back, removing his hand from your mark and sliding up your arm to gently pry yours from his bicep. You’d wince at the marks your nails had left on his skin if you didn’t still feel like your bones were vibrating on the astral plane from the intensity of a reciprocal resonance.

He gently holds both of your hands in his and settles them between you, catching your eye again.

“You back with me, bubs?” He asks, smile light and tone even. You’d think him unaffected if not for the redness of his ears and the slight haze in his eyes.

Right. Eight soulmates. He’s probably used to it.

He’s also trying to get you down from a panic attack, you remember as your hands begin to faintly tremble in his grip. You nod slightly at his question, apologizing again.

“Hey, no.” Changbin scolds softly, eyes locked on yours, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You shake your head in refusal of both ideas, opening your mouth once, twice, three times, before huffing irritatedly at the lack of words falling from your lips. Changbin squeezes your hands to keep your attention on him, expression open and accepting. His silence allows yours to end.

“I just- It’s just that I-” You breathe harshly through your nose, squeezing his hands back to ground yourself, “I knew from when I realized who you were that you were my soulmate.” you grind out in halting words, the trembling spreading from your hands up to your chest. You take in a shuddering breath, “That’s why I was apologizing. Because I knew and I still said those things to you.”

You can tell your confession takes Changbin off guard. The man blinks rapidly as he takes in the new information, slotting your earlier behavior against your reaction just now and having trouble connecting them.

“Soulmates terrify me,” you confess quietly, before he can ask, “You’re so nice, but you’re so fucking scary to me, I’m sorry.”

With that, you remove your hands from his, and Changbin just sort of helplessly lets you go, a lost expression taking over his face. You try to stumble to your feet, and he scrambles up to help you, caring even through his confusion.

You can feel the trembling travel to your legs, and you’re glad for his steady hold despite yourself. You feel like a stiff breeze might knock you over.

“I need- I- I’ve gotta- argh!” You clench your teeth with frustration, taking a deep, bracing, breath, before trying again. “I need to go home.” You’d like to say it came out strong and self-assured, but the words leave you in a breathless whimper that makes you feel small and pathetic.

Everything about this makes you feel small and pathetic.

Changbin catches your eyes again, brows creased in concern.

Except for him.

“Of course, whatever you need,” He assures, “Can I call a car for you? A friend? Your roommate?”

You shake your head, hopelessly endeared by his need to help you. You feel guilty for refusing him when he’d just pivoted from the bombshell you’d dropped on him to focus on your care but you- you needed to go home. You needed to leave, and it was taking every ounce of effort you could spare to keep from bolting.

“No, I can- I’ve got- I want- shit.” The curse spills from you unbidden, frustration with the vestiges of your panic refusing to leave you building sharply. If anything, Changbin’s concern only grows deeper as you struggle to express yourself.

“I need to move, I’ll walk.” Your mouth finally allows you to spit out, almost aggressively. Changbin almost seems to despair at your declaration.

Looking at your own condition, you can’t blame him. Trembling like a leaf and barely able to speak, you’d never let yourself leave if you’d been in his place. You can’t spare the energy to explain that if anyone tried anything at you in this condition you’d probably try to kill them first and ask questions later.

You don’t handle stress well.

Still, despite his obvious reluctance, Changbin lets you leave his embrace.

You’re more stable on your feet now, and a deep breath fills you with a facade of confidence that will see you home. Changbin’s hands still hover around you, as if waiting for you to shatter apart again.

“If you need anything, please call me, okay? Anything at all, please call me.” He pleads with you. You only manage to give him another tiny nod before you dip into a full bow and turn to flee.

Changbin watches you go with a face full of concern and confusion.

‘I think it’d be worth the work, to be your soulmate’ he’d said. You can’t help but wonder, as the gym disappears behind you, if he still thinks that.

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[obsessive-evie]

sleepy kate is soo dramatic like she needs her 8 (10) hours or she’s basically not able to function, all day she’ll be yawning exaggeratedly, walking and talking with her eyes closed, leaning on you with her full body weight, etc

•••

sleepy kate is also so needy like the second you get home, her arms are locked around your neck and she is not letting go bc she needs to be touching you or she’ll pout and who could say no to her puppy dog eyes?

she’s needy in … other ways too. she won’t ever say it, but she’ll look at you pleadingly until your knee or hand is between her legs. it’s always slow and gentle and filled with kisses and praise, and you love kate’s tired smile and the little noises she makes (she’s too out of it for words at this point)

(inspired by the iowawbb content today)

great day in the Kate Martin nation

she’d get home and immediately walk you over to the couch so she can collapse and sleep. no other reason.

she can also nap anywhere for very short amounts of time i don’t make the rules

the last one has my brain running in circles i can’t even. and like her eyes are so expressive but she’d just melt into you, her whole body relaxing as you take care of her. like imagine her on top of you on the couch in a hoodie, her hips barely pressing into yours as she looks at you like that.

[novel-nook-blog]

Part 2 – the review 🌸

(The Deal – off campus)

I’m still not 100% sure how to rate this book. Don’t get me wrong I loved it and read it in one sitting. I stayed up late and almost finished the book early in the morning but due to the exhaustion from those past few days that were overfilled with studying and staying up late, I needed my sleep. 

So my rating is somewhere between 4 and 5 stars. But closer to 4, that’s why I chose a 4-star rating. Why? Well, let’s dive into that.

I love good romance books. And I do love a good old hockey romance and this book was it. I started reading it because I wanted to know if it was worth the hype, and I can say that it definitely was. But… 

The first five chapters were�� not it for me. I thought I won’t continue reading but at the same time, I was actually glad I wasn’t into the book because I still have to study for finals so it wouldn’t take my time. Those short chapters were great, it made it really easy to continue reading. But around chapter 8 I started liking it. 

Yesterday I was truly tired after just 4 hours of sleep and an important verbal exam that just sucked all the energy right out of me. So when I got home from uni I wasn’t in the mood for something “difficult” that would require my whole attention. And that book was my solution. I didn’t really care about the story and it was a great way to rest. But at around 40% of the book I found out that I couldn’t put it down. The book boosted my energy and I was suddenly wide awake. I planned to go to sleep at around 9 pm, but that didn’t happen. The next time I checked the time it was midnight and I COULDN’T put the book on my nightstand. One in the morning passed by and I was still reading. Eyes wide awake. Brain functioning for the first time since that exam I took in the morning. It was as my own personal energy drink. 

When 2 am went by I started thinking about my sleep schedule and the tiresome that would come to me and totally destroy me the next day. And I needed to function. So I eventually put it aside even when it was a difficult task to do. 

So yes, I loved the book. However, it didn’t make me emotional. Even with everything that happened there, I didn’t shed a tear. Not even one. I did laugh, tho. Not so often but there were some parts that made me laugh. That’s probably the only thing I have to reproach. So that’s why I gave it 4 stars. I just hope it would awaken more emotions. 

Also, Garrett Graham truly annoyed me in the first few chapters but I fell in love with him by the end of the book. He really is a good guy😌. I definitely will read the next books.

(picture/art from Pinterest – fanart by @ maggies_artt on instagram)

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[reki-of-the-valley]

Time Zones

Hi @rainbowrider1290 💛 Technically this was supposed to be a surprise Christmas present but um. We're a month later and I already showed you the first two parts. But at least the third part is new so that can be a surprise? And I hope you like it 💛

Read it on ao3 here!

-

1 - Departure

Kyan Reki

And then ofc Nanaka started crying because she wanted to bring the kitten home to show Chihiro but obvs my mom said no so now she’s pouting

(Feb 6, 22:33)

Hasegawa Langa

Isn’t Koyomi allergic to cats or something?

(Feb 6, 22:33)

Kyan Reki

Yup

A bit

Nothing deadly but she does end up with a stuffy nose and sometimes teary eyes

So no cats.

Anyway I really have to go to bed

Gotta be up real early tomorrow

(Feb 6, 22:35)

Hasegawa Langa

Right you said you had to do something for Joe?

(Feb 6, 22:36)

Kyan Reki

Yup!

And then my mom needs to me do some chores and errands for her

I prob won’t be able to text you tomorrow at all unless I find some time during breaks or whatever

(Feb 6, 22:37)

Hasegawa Langa

Don’t worry about it

What time do you have to be up?

(Feb 6, 22:38)

Kyan Reki

Like 5? Joe wants me at the restaurant latest 5:30

(Feb 6, 22:38)

Hasegawa Langa

Wow

Yeah you wouldn’t catch me doing that

(Feb 6, 22:39)

Kyan Reki

I know dude

You’re barely functional before 10

But anyway gn man

Or have a good day?

What time is it there?

8? Almost 9?

(Feb 6, 22:41)

Hasegawa Langa

Yeah

(Feb 6, 22:41)

Kyan Reki

Aww you got up before 10 to actually talk to me

That’s so cute man

You’re clearly still in bed rn aren’t you?

(Feb 6, 22:42)

Hasegawa Langa

You think I’m getting up on a Sunday?

I’m going back to sleep as soon as you do

(Feb 6, 22:43)

Kyan Reki

Of course you are

Well then sleep well

I’ll talk to you as soon as I can?

(Feb 6, 22:45)

Hasegawa Langa

Good night Reki

I love you

(Feb 6, 22:46)

Kyan Reki

I love you too

<3

(Feb 6, 22:48)

Reki sighs as he clicks his phone shut. He hates lying to Langa, but this time, it’s for a good reason. He can’t tell him the truth; that would ruin the surprise. And a little white lie never hurt anyone. At least, he hopes it won’t hurt anyone. In the end, he’s doing this for Langa. If he told him what he was really doing, then he wouldn’t be able to surprise him. If he told Langa the whole truth, then his surprise would be ruined and Reki has not been planning this for weeks with Nanako for it to fall apart right before the moment of truth.

As expected, the night is restless. Reki tosses and turns, his head filling with worst-case scenarios. What if he’s forgetting something? What if he wakes up at the wrong time? What if he mixed up the days and missed his flight already? He’s freaking out, even if he knows it’s futile. He knows these are all useless insecurities, but he can’t help himself as he scurries out of bed and opens the suitcase resting in the corner of his room. He just needs to make sure everything is there, from the old coat of Langa’s that Nanako told him to borrow to his many charging cables. He knows it’s all packed up – he taped onto his suitcase the list of things he’s put in to make sure everything is in there – but he can’t help the surge of stress. Everything has to be perfect when the time comes to be dropped off at the airport.

The night is restless, but he somehow manages to fall asleep. It isn’t much, and Reki isn’t sure when he finally fell asleep, but as he slams his alarm off, he knows he got at least a few hours of sleep. Maybe if he had gone to bed earlier, he would have faked a full night's worth of sleep, but he knows that that’s only wishful thinking. And anyway, he would have been miserable if he didn’t get to talk to Langa at least a bit; he’s already going to go a whole day without being able to text Langa all the dumb things he’ll see for the first time. He knows that if he hadn’t had those few minutes of talking to Langa before bed, he wouldn’t have been able to resist sending him pictures of everything he’ll see on his long day of traveling. Ideally, Reki thought his first time taking a plane would be with Langa, but this will have to do. He won’t be with Langa, but he is going to see Langa at the end of the long trip.

It's barely five in the morning when Reki finally manages to pull himself out of bed, but the house doesn’t sound any different from the other days. He can hear the usual hustle and bustle, from his mother shouting in the kitchen to the twins running around the house, their kiddish giggles bouncing through the halls. It’s as noisy as if it were midday, the day coming to life as soon as the twins manage to rub the sleep out of their eyes. And once the twins are up, everyone is up. Once the twins are ready to play their day away, everyone is aware of their presence.

According to his mother, that childish energy runs in the family, Reki having been the exact same at their age, if not worse. Apparently, he was up with the sun, dashing off to his parents’ room to jump on their bed until they were awake. And on the days where he did let them sleep in, he’d be in the living room, playing with whatever toy he could get his little hands on, sometimes playing with things that weren’t toys. Apparently, he had more energy than both twins combined, but now that he’s grown, he doesn’t have that energy. He’s ready to pull the blankets over his head and fall back into a deep sleep, but he knows he can’t. He can’t be late today. He can’t waste a single minute and the moment he pulls his hoodie on and his eyes lock onto the suitcase, he’s wide awake. The red of his bags jolts him awake, a mixture of excitement and anxiety bubbling in him.

It’s today. He’s getting on a plane today. He’s getting onto a plane for the first time in his life and it’s to go see Langa. He’s going to see Langa. He’s going to see Langa for real. He’ll be in the same room as Langa.

The excitement immediately takes over as he wheels his suitcase to the living room. Well, the anxiety is definitely still there – Reki can’t find it in himself to eat, the nerves twisting his stomach into knots – but he can’t stop smiling. He can’t stop smiling as he thinks of Canada, of the snow Langa’s shown him as he walks down the streets, of the Snow that’s waiting for him on the other side of the world. It’s so close, he can almost taste the sweetness he’ll be greeted with. Or at least, the sweetness he hopes he’ll be greeted with.

“Aren’t you gonna eat at least a bit?”

Koyomi looks up at him, her breakfast half-finished. She’s still in her pajamas and her hair is a mess of tangles, but she makes no sign of hurrying to get ready. They have to be out of the house in less than 20 minutes, but no one seems to be in a hurry. Reki is the only one who seems stressed by this, his anxiety now really flaring up as he digs through his carry-on for the third time that morning. It alternates between excitement and anxiety as he checks the time on his phone, practically counting the seconds that pass.

“M’not hungry.”

“You’re going to be on a plane for like 22 hours. Reki, you have to eat something!”

Reki blinks at his sister before zipping his bag shut once more and getting up from the ground. “I’ll buy something to eat when I’ll be in Tokyo or something. I have like two hours to kill there, so I’m sure I’ll have time to wander around the airport and eat something.”

“But you should—”

“I’m not hungry, Koyomi.”

The girl puts her hands up before retuning to her breakfast. Her eyes grow in what seems to be shock and annoyance, but Reki doesn’t have time to concentrate on that. He doesn’t have time to argue with his sister who seems to want to put up a fight, not when his phone is buzzing in his hand, an influx of texts bombarding his inbox. There’s no way he’s going to choose to bicker with his sister over texting his boyfriend, the boy who has him smiling like a fool. There’s no way he’s choosing early morning fighting over answering the boy he’ll finally get to see after being apart from for too long.

Hasegawa Langa

Good morning Sunshine

Hope you slept well

(Feb 7, 04:57)

Have a good day

Text me if you can

(Feb 7, 05:20)

Kyan Reki

Did you set an alarm to make sure you didn’t forget to text me?

Also sorry I didn’t text you back sooner, I didn’t get a notification for some reason?

I’ll text you when I can I promise

I’ll talk to you soon <3

(Feb 7, 05:23)

“Reki, we’re leaving.”

Reki practically bounces up at the sound of his mother’s voice. They’re leaving. They’re headed for the airport. Reki is leaving the island, leaving the country, and he’s going to get to see Langa. He’s going to get to spend time with Langa, with his boyfriend, with his best friend. It’s actually happening. Reki’s going to see the snow he’s heard all about and he’s going to get to snuggle with Langa as they watch cheesy movies like they do in said movies. He’s going to see Langa and it’s going to be perfect. It’s going to be absolutely perfect.

“Reki!” Koyomi brushes past him, hauling one of his bags towards the car. Her eyes narrow onto him for a moment before turning away from him completely. “If you don’t want to miss your plane, I’d suggest you get a move on it.”

The adrenaline kicks back in as he grabs his suitcase and runs past Koyomi with it. He feels like a little kid as he hauls his suitcase into the trunk and takes his spot in the car. Reki can’t stop the bounce in his leg, even as Koyomi whines behind him, threatening to hit him if he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop his excitement; he can’t remember the last time something so big happened to him. Well, maybe there was the day Langa said he liked him back or when they shared their first kiss or said their first ‘I love you’s, but it’s not the same kind of excitement. That had been a giddiness shared with another person; this is an excitement specific to Reki, a feeling he can’t quite express and share and do it justice. This is Reki’s moment, the giddy mixture of novelty and of pulling off the biggest surprise he could think of.

“Where are we going?”

They’re halfway there when Nanaka speaks up. She’s staring out the window, seeming lost. Then again, they never go this far; it’s understandable that she doesn’t know where they are.

“Don’t you remember, Honey?” Masae’s voice captures the attention of all of her children. “We’re bringing your brother to the airport.”

“Airplanes?”

Chihiro’s little voice has Reki giggling as he shifts in his seat, twisting to look at her. “Yeah! I’m gonna be on an airplane!”

Her brown eyes light up as he beams at her. “You’re gonna fly in the sky?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna be up in the clouds and it’s gonna be awesome! And I’ll—”

“Reki, can you please sit properly?”

He shrinks in his seat, mumbling out an apology to his mother, but he still turns his head to smile at Chihiro. She seems more amazed than Nanaka, Nanaka who lost interest in the conversation as soon as she got her answer. She’s far more interested in the many things zipping past them, pointing out the things that catch her eye. But Chihiro? She seems more than impressed with the idea of Reki being up in the sky, flying from place to place. She excitedly whispers something to Koyomi who giggles and nods, but Reki can’t hear what’s being discussed, not that he minds. This is probably one of his last chances to text Langa for a long time.

Kyan Reki

You doing anything for your birthday?

Or like. I know it’s weird with the time differences but also I was thinking

Maybe we could sorta do something together? Like watch a movie or something?

I know it’s not the same thing as doing something /together together/ but I just

I wanna do something special for your birthday, man

So thoughts?

(Feb 7, 05:48)

Hasegawa Langa

I’ll always have time for you <3

But a movie sounds good

And if you fall asleep during it that’s fine

(Feb 7, 05:53)

Kyan Reki

You’re the one who falls asleep during movies dude

Not me

(Feb 7, 05:53)

Hasegawa Langa

Because it’ll probably be pretty late for you by then?

And I do not.

(Feb 7, 05:54)

Kyan Reki

You passed out cold when we were watching movies at Christmas

(Feb 7, 05:55)

Hasegawa Langa

That was once!

And because I was still jetlagged!

(Feb 7, 05:55)

Kyan Reki

There was also before you left

You used to fall asleep all the time

(Feb 7, 05:56)

Hasegawa Langa

I did not but whatever

We clearly don’t remember the same things

(Feb 7, 05:57)

Kyan Reki

It’s fine dude

You’re cute when you sleep so

(Feb 7, 05:57)

Hasegawa Langa

ANYWAY

When do you want to do it?

My mom has a thing planned for around dinner time so that’s no good for me

But you’ll be asleep by then anyway so it doesn’t matter

Unless you want to do it that next morning (in Okinawa time. Still my birthday back here)?

(Feb 7, 05:59)

Kyan Reki

Yeah that sounds good

Movie at your 8?

And no one should fall asleep

(Feb 7, 06:00)

Hasegawa Langa

Sounds good for me

I miss watching movies with you

Like. Actually with you

(Feb 7, 06:02)

Kyan Reki

You just miss cuddling, you clingy monster

But cool cool

I gotta go now but I’m glad we have something planned for your birthday

Would have felt bad if I didn’t get to do anything for your birthday

(Feb 7, 06:04)

Hasegawa Langa

Just a happy birthday text and a phone call would have been enough

(Feb 7, 06:04)

Kyan Reki

Still

I miss doing stuff with you

(Feb 7, 06:05)

Hasegawa Langa

I miss you

(Feb 7, 06:05)

Kyan Reki

You know I miss you loads

I’ll talk to you soon?

(Feb 7, 06:05)

Hasegawa Langa

The sooner the better my love

(Feb 7, 06:06)

Kyan Reki

Sap

Ily too

(Feb 7, 06:06)

Hasegawa Langa

Love you Reki

Have fun today with Joe

(Feb 7, 06:07)

Kyan Reki

Fingers crossed

(Feb 7, 06:07)

Hasegawa Langa

<3

(Feb 7, 06:07)

The airport is terrifyingly imposing. It’s huge and there are people all over. Men in suits and women in heels walk around like they own the place, seeming far too used to the environment. They seem so in their element, so unlike Reki who’s shaking ever so slightly. Thankfully, his mom and sisters are there, but it doesn’t quite calm his nerves. He’s still terrified of the adventure to come, an adventure that he’s going to do all alone.

It’s a little reassuring having his mother tell him what to do for now. He may legally be an adult but that doesn’t change the fact that mothers just know best. Or at least, when it comes to facing the big and new world, they seem to have things a lot more under control than Reki does. He much rather just do as his mother instructs him than have to ask around; it’s a lot less embarrassing and nerve-wracking. Just following her instructions means Reki doesn’t have to second guess anything, which he appreciates; he’s stressed enough about being on a plane for the first time and all alone at that. And when all the formal things are done and Reki just needs to cross the gate, he’s feeling a little surer of himself. Standing at the gate, a gate that once crossed means he’ll be crossing the world to be with Langa, it has his excitement flaring up, taking over all the anxiety he’s been feeling all morning.

“Reki’s going on a plane?”

He nods as he crouches to be Chihiro-sized. “That’s right. I’m going to see Langa for a few days.”

“So you’re coming home tomorrow?”

He doesn’t mean to snort as he pulls his little sister in a hug. He’s not laughing at her as he presses a kiss to her hair. He’s not making fun of her but he can’t help the laughter that spills because, even though he’s tried to explain it to her on multiple accounts, she just doesn’t quite get it. “No, not tomorrow. In 10 days.” He takes Chihiro by the shoulders, grinning at her. “In 10 sleeps, I’m gonna be back home and I’ll bring back a present for you!”

“A present?”

“Yup! And maybe even Langa’s gonna buy you something for me to bring back to you. Would you like that?”

Brown eyes triple in size as the girl turns to their mother. “I wanna get Reki a present before he goes!” Chihiro rushes to their mother, clinging to her leg. “Please, mommy?”

Reki’s eyes lock with his mother’s. He doesn’t know what to say to her; he doesn’t need anything, but he also doesn’t want to say no to Chihiro. She’s rarely this insistent about anything, he doesn’t want to turn her down now. And their mother doesn’t seem keen on refusing her little demand, simply taking her and Nanaka’s hands in hers.

“We can go find a little present for Reki in the airport.”

“My flight’s in an hour, so—”

“I’ll wait here with Reki.”

Reki almost jumps the sound of Koyomi’s voice. She had been so quiet this whole time, eyes glued to her phone. It’s not uncommon at all for her, but with all the commotion and the stress, Reki almost forgot she was even with them. She had blended into the masses that pass by them, just another person walking up and down the large, echoing halls. She was just another person, at least until she was dragging Reki to a corner to sit, away from the strangers who brushed past them.

“You’re gonna bring something back for me too, right?”

“Well,” Reki leans back into the wall behind him, “depends what you want? I was probably just gonna bring back a toy of some kind for Nanaka and Chihiro. Wasn’t planning on getting anything super touristy or whatever.”

Koyomi’s weight is comfortable against his arm, her head resting against his shoulder. Reki knows that it’s not for nothing, that she’s not being affectionate out of her good graces, but he can still enjoy it before she ruins it. He can pretend that his sister loves him for no other reason than they’re siblings and not at all because she wants something from him.

“Can you bring back the most Canadian thing you can find? So I can actually prove to my friends that my amazing and awesome big brother that I love so much really did go to Canada to see his boyfriend?”

“Laying it a little thick, dontcha think?”

Koyomi huffs as she straightens out and shoves a laughing Reki aside. She shoots him a glare as she crosses her arms over her chest. She shifts on the floor, turning her back to him.

“I see how it is. Anything for Chihiro and Nanaka, but when it comes to me? Nothing.”

Reki wraps his arms around Koyomi and drops his chin on her shoulder. He grins as he always does as she glances down at him. They both know they’re exaggerating their reactions, Reki teasing her as he always has and Koyomi being dramatic about it as ever. It’s instinctual for them to act this way, that push and pull that’s so particular to siblings.

“You are the worst little sister, you know that?”

“And you’re the worst brother.”

They both break into giggles as Koyomi shoves Reki away once more. He falls back, his back hitting the wall as he lets the laughter bubble out of him so freely. It’s fun, this playful bickering. It’s fun being able to fall back into that after having spent so much time genuinely fighting and ignoring each other. It’s fun being able to be playful again, find that relationship they had when they were little kids. It’s wonderful, even, being able to be siblings that don’t despise each other; Reki’s seen siblings hate each other and he would hate for him and Koyomi to fall into that trap.

“I can try to bring you back the most Canadian thing I’ll find, but I don’t think they’ll let me stuff Langa in my suitcase. I can try to bring back some maple syrup though.”

Koyomi gags at Reki’s bad joke but she doesn’t linger on that. Instead, she grins, but unlike Reki whose grin is filled with happiness and sunshine as Langa says, hers is filled with mischief. Her smile screams trouble, a feigned innocence far scarier than ghost stories and the likes.

“Well, you see, I was actually thinking you could maybe bring me back like, a moose or a beaver or something like that?”

Reki blinks as she bats her eyelashes at him. She’s doing that thing she started doing when she was eight, that thing she had seen work on tv. It never actually worked on Reki, her false innocence being far too evident to him, but that never stopped her from trying. It never stopped Koyomi from trying to coerce her brother into giving her what she desired.

“I am not getting you a wild animal.”

She huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest and slumps back against the wall. “You suck then.”

They sit there in silence for a moment, but it isn’t long before Reki’s giggles break that quiet. And when Reki starts to laugh, it’s only a matter of seconds before Koyomi is joining in, her muffled laughter mingling with his. It never stays very serious between these two, Reki’s natural happiness going hand-in-hand with his sister’s playfulness. There are moments when their emotions cause them to clash, but most of the time, they can laugh their difference and arguments off, especially when they’re as ridiculous as this one.

“Reki?” The boy hums as he rests his head against his sister’s who has found its spot on his shoulder once more. “Don’t be stupid down there, alright? No skateboarding in the snow.”

“I see how much faith you have in me.”

“I wanna make sure you come back alive because, next time you go to Canada, I wanna come with you and Langa. I want to see the snow he talks about all the time and I also want to see the colorful autumn leaves we see in pictures. And I want to see a real beaver.”

“Alright, alright.” Reki chuckles as he nudges Koyomi. She looks up at him; her eyebrows are knit together before smoothing out as a smile grows at the same time as Reki’s voice. “I’ll be careful and I’ll be sure to send you a bunch of pretty pictures of the snow. And maybe of a wild Canadian animal. Though I’m pretty sure I’m just gonna see like, squirrels and birds.”

“And make sure to have fun. Don’t spend your entire vacation thinking of us.”

“I’ll be too busy d—”

“I don’t want to know!” Reki rolls his eyes but joy takes over as Koyomi twists to hug him. “Enjoy yourself, enjoy your time with Langa, and stay safe. I don’t want to hear that you got a concussion from slipping on ice.”

“I love you too, Komi.”

“Hugs?”

Reki looks up, big brown eyes fixated on him. And he laughs as he pulls Nanaka onto him, hugging her and Koyomi at the same time. It’s only a week and a half but he knows he’ll miss his little sisters. He’ll miss annoying Koyomi, teasing her and stealing her stuff on purpose, and he’s going to miss the twins always wanting to show him their latest works of art. He’ll miss being in his noisy house, but then again, he’ll be with Langa. And once with Langa, his head will be elsewhere. With Langa, he’ll be swimming in his affection for the boy, far too focused on making sure Langa knows just how much he loves him. By Langa’s side, there’s no way Reki will feel homesick.

“For you.”

A smile breaks across Reki’s face as he takes the pink toy Chihiro is handing him. He grins at both girls before pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks as a thank you. And as he presses kiss after kiss, the girls giggle and squeeze between him and Koyomi, snuggling into the pile of siblings. Four Kyans on the floor of an airport, laughing and snuggling like they never do at home.

“It’s a penguin,” Chihiro says matter-of-factly.

“And penguins like Canada!” Nanaka beams as pats the plushie’s head. “Because it’s snowy and cold!”

Reki’s eyes lock with his mother’s who’s just watching her children with a smile. She shrugs and he knows what that means; it means that the twins had been stubborn and did not want to hear that penguins are actually not from Canada. He knows that the shrug means that their mother gave up and just let the girls pick whatever it was that they wanted for their brother. And that shrug, it has Reki wiggling out from under the twins, leaving them with their older sister as he makes his way into his mother’s arms.

He's taller than her now, but it doesn’t take anything away from her hugs. He still adores her warmth, finding comfort in her arms. And as she beckons him down to press a kiss to his forehead, Reki can’t refuse. He just smiles as his mother reminds him to be safe and that she loves him. He smiles as she pats his cheek, tears in her eyes. He smiles, but he feels himself choke up as well, her emotions rubbing off on him.

“My baby’s all grown up. My big boy is finally traveling the world.”

“I’m just—” Reki chokes on his laughter as he quickly wipes a tear away with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m just leaving for 10 days. You’re making it sound like I’m moving down there or something.”

“Who knows, maybe one day you and Langa will move to Canada. And I won’t get to see you every day.”

“I’m not going anywhere, mom. At least, definitely not any time soon. I’m coming back soon.”

One last tight hug before his mother completely lets go of him. One last squeeze before she’s pushing him away and telling him to get going if he doesn’t want to miss his plane. One last kiss on the cheek before truly letting him step away from everyone. One last wave to his family before Reki disappears behind the gates that mark the beginning of a big adventure.

-

2 - Layover

Reki’s thankful that all he has to do is follow people around because he knows he would be lost otherwise. His head is spinning from having been on a plane for so long – his many short-lived naps did nothing to help his exhaustion, even if he knows that he got at least five hours of sleep during his long flight – and the novelty of everything is making him even more lightheaded. He’s following the masses which he had quickly learned is the easiest way around but his eyes catch on everything in the American airport; he can’t help but stare at the liveliness of the place, the people walking around as if it weren’t past midnight on a Tuesday. Well, maybe that’s because it isn’t, but in Reki’s mind, it is.

It's rather amazing to see all that surrounds him. It feels like he’s walking through a giant shopping mall, the type he sees in the American shows and movies he watches with Koyomi. Everywhere he looks, there’s shiny merchandise on sale and pretty girls trying their best to attract customers who are willing to spend far too much. If he wasn’t so tired, maybe he’d fall for their charms. Or maybe that’s the exhaustion talking because the moment he finds himself thinking that, he remembers why he’s here: Langa.

A burst of energy courses through Reki’s body as his eyes catch on a little sign wedged between two shop windows. Free Wi-Fi. Reki has free Wi-Fi which means he doesn’t have to spend the next four hours wandering around aimlessly all on his own. With Wi-Fi, he can spend a good part of it talking to his boyfriend, having him distract him and keep him awake. It’ll be hard to contain his excitement about everything, to deny himself the pleasure of rambling about all that he sees, about all the English that surrounds him, but Reki’s fairly certain he can hold it in for a few more hours. In just a few more hours, he’ll be in Langa’s arms, pressing kiss after kiss to the face of the boy that he loves. In just a few more hours, he’ll be able to tell Langa all about his long trip across the world.

After a bit more aimless wandering, Reki finally finds a place to sit, a few rows of seats placed by a little food stand. Initially, the plan was to text Langa as he ate something, fill himself with a bit of food that has to be better than whatever it was that he was given on the plane, but as he strolled through one of the food courts, Reki found himself with a loss of appetite. Normally, he has no problems with late-night snacking, but now, as everything is really settling in and mixing with his undeniable fatigue, he can’t find it in himself to eat. It's just like back home, that choking feeling he felt as he watched his sisters eat. Just thinking of eating is making his stomach twist in knots. He just wants Langa, beautiful Langa who always knows how to make him feel better.

So that’s what he does; Reki finds a spot to sit, slightly isolated from the passing masses, and pulls his phone out to text Langa.

Kyan Reki

Bro I'm so tired rn

I'd be so down to sleep

(Feb 8, 00:54)

Long minutes pass without a response. He knows he shouldn’t worry about it – he shouldn’t expect Langa to always bend to his every whim or always be available to him – but he still finds himself with yet another flare-up of anxiety. It’s the exhaustion making him worry, Reki knows this. He knows he becomes even more anxious and worried when he's tired but he can’t help it, the tightness in his chest.

His eyes flicker around the room before settling on an abnormally large clock. It indicates that it’s nearly 11 in the morning and if he remembers correctly, he’s finally in the same time zone as Langa. If his foggy brain isn’t playing tricks on him, Langa’s in the same time zone as New York. And if the mental math is also correct, the subtraction Reki’s been doing for months now, Langa should be up and about. He can’t possibly still be asleep at 11 in the morning. There’s no way—

Hasegawa Langa

If you’re tired why are you texting me?

Reki, go to bed

(Feb 8, 01:07)

Kyan Reki

Can’t

Not home

(Feb 8, 01:07)

Hasegawa Langa

Oh. Are you at S?

Say hi to everyone for me

(Feb 8, 01:08)

Kyan Reki

Nah

Haven’t gone to S in like 3 weeks

(Feb 8, 01:09)

Hasegawa Langa

Then where are you?

(Feb 8, 01:09)

Kyan Reki

Working on stuff for someone I haven’t seen in awhile

Hopefully I’ll get to go to bed in like 4 hours

I think I got 4 hours to kill until I can try sleeping?

(Feb 8, 01:11)

Hasegawa Langa

Reki

It’ll be 4 in the morning

Are you working on another board?

Why are you working on something this late?

Can’t it wait until tomorrow morning or something?

You should really go to bed, Reki

(Feb 8, 01:13)

Kyan Reki

I already started so I can’t do it in the morning

If I stop now it’ll mess it up

(Feb, 01:14)

Hasegawa Langa

What? Why?

(Feb 8, 01:14)

Kyan Reki

I promise to tell you all about it tomorrow

I’m too tired to explain

Just… Talk to me to keep me awake?

(Feb 8, 01:15)

Hasegawa Langa

Do you want me to call you?

(Feb 8, 01:15)

Kyan Reki

That

That would be nice I think

Yeah. I miss your voice dude

(Feb 8, 01:16)

Reki’s smile blooms like the flowers around his house, completely naturally at the sight of a bit of light. Except, flowers need sunlight; Reki needs the light from his screen, one of the many pictures he’s taken of Langa invading it as his phone buzzes in his hand. The smile is huge as he answers the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

Normally it would be a video call but Reki can’t risk having Langa guess where he is. It breaks his heart to deny the access but as soon as Langa’s voice comes through, his heart is mended back together. Langa has that power; Reki can’t help but smile and laugh when it comes to Langa, Langa who makes everything so wonderful.

“No video today?” Light laughter, beautiful laughter that is all Langa’s. “Afraid that I’ll distract you too much that you’ll forget about your board?”

It’s in moments like these that Reki wishes that he could be with Langa. It’s when he says things like that, those little bouts of teasing playfulness, that Reki wishes he was in the same room as the boy. He wishes he could be next to Langa to shove him aside as his own cheeks heat from the comment. He wishes he could be next to Langa to kiss the mockery off his lips.

“Yeah right, you wish. I know you’re pretty, but you’re not that pretty. My babies come first, but I guess you’re a close second.” Echoed laughs mingle, laughter Reki knows will be in the same room very soon. “Sorry about the no video thing, man. The internet’s been a pain for a few days now and it just doesn’t reach the workshop super great. We’re gonna have to look into that soon, but for now, you’re gonna have to deal with just my voice.”

Another lie and Reki finds himself biting the inside of his cheek. He’s feeling that mixture of happiness from being able to talk to Langa but there’s also that hint of guilt, the wrongness associated with not telling him the truth. He wants to smile but it feels wrong; he shouldn’t smile while lying through his teeth, even if that lie is to conceal a surprise. He’s doing nothing wrong. Reki is doing absolutely nothing wrong. He’s not being bad and deceitful, the reminder rings in his head, but sometimes it’s hard to remember that. It’s hard to not blurt the secret out, tell Langa everything he’s been hiding. It’s hard but it’s not impossible. It’s hard but Reki’s going to power through this.

“Good thing I love your voice then.” More of that shy laughter, muffled, breathy laughter that has Reki grinning like a fool. “But yeah, I can tell the internet’s shit; you’re super echo-y. You really can’t go back to the house and, I don’t know, maybe get some sleep? I know I’m not there to force you to bed, but it really would be good for you to get some rest.”

“Ah yes. The clingy monster technique of getting me to go to bed. Cuddle me and trap me in bed.” There's a pause in the conversation, a pause which gives Reki the opportunity to stare at nothing, at what would be Langa if he was in front of him. His eyes narrow onto that nothing but the smile grows as the lightness reappears in his voice. “Sorry dude, but you’re not here so you can’t do anything about it. But you could tell me about what’s around you right now? Like… What’s it like outside?”

“You want me to talk about the weather?”

“Sure, man! I mean, you don’t have to but also, I really just need to hear your voice.”

Reki can practically hear the smile in Langa’s voice. There’s that light laughter that hangs in his words as he agrees. And as Langa starts talking, completely taking over the conversation, Reki sighs contently; Langa never talks much, but once he starts, it’s hard to shut him up. Once Langa starts talking, really talking, his chatter becomes the center of Reki’s world.

It starts as Reki asked; Langa talks about the snow outside his window, the snowflakes swirling in the wind. Apparently, it’s not too cold out, not with the sun warming the winter air, but the snow is unstoppable. Clumps of fluffy snow hang in the air and Reki can’t help but imagine the view from Langa’s bedroom window. It probably looks straight out of a picture book. It probably looks beautiful, the snow against the windowpane. It probably looks like a Christmas miracle, not that snow is exactly a miracle, according to Langa.

It starts as Reki asked but the chatter quickly shifts away from the light snowstorm. The rambling about the warm sun shifts to Reki, Reki who’s Langa’s Sunshine. The snow outside becomes the many places Langa would bring Reki if he were with him. Everything turns to Reki and the love Langa has for him. Because Langa can’t go one day without telling Reki about all the things he loves about him. Langa can’t go a single day without making him flush, his cheeks hotter than any sun.

“There’s a park by the apartment and the city decided to make an ice rink in it for the winter and since Valentine’s is coming up, they planned all these stupid couples event things.” Langa’s voice drains out and Reki feels his heart sink, though he isn’t quite sure why. He doesn’t know why he feels the squeeze in his chest, but he has a vague feeling it has something to do with the smallness of Langa’s voice. “Reki, I’d bring you there every day if I could. I… I don’t know if you know how to skate, like ice skating because I know you’re an amazing skater but the other kind, not the one with ice skates, and just… It feels like something you’d really like. Especially outside. I feel like you’d be so amazed by everything around you and you’d look so beautiful all bundled up. And if you don’t know how to skate, then… then it would just be a better excuse to have you hold my hand. And that way, everyone would know that I have the cutest boyfriend. Because you are. You’re just the best boyfriend in the whole entire world – no! Universe! – and there’s so much I would love to show you. Just wish you could be here with me.” There’s a beat of silence, one that Langa quickly breaks. “Reki? You still with me?”

“Yeah.” A yawn escapes Reki but his words come out louder now. He’s exhausted, but he’s never too tired when it comes to Langa. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m just… I love you, you know that, right?”

“How could I ever forget? But I love you too.” A smile stretches across Reki’s face as Langa’s voice comes through, that soft English that has his heart flipping in his chest. “I love you so much, Reki.”

Usually, people find more ease in speaking a language than reading or writing it. Usually, talking comes more naturally than the other parts of learning a language. And Reki is by no means a bad conversationalist when it comes to English. Especially with Langa around, Langa who has always had the bad habit of mixing English and Japanese. With Langa around, Reki quickly grew used to speaking the language. His high school English grades quickly skyrocketed once Langa entered his life to the point where his teachers suspected him of cheating; it was, however, just the effect of constant exposition to the language and the boost of confidence Langa provided when he praised Reki. So Reki is fine on all three levels – speaking, reading, and writing – but that doesn’t stop him from flushing whenever he speaks. Whenever he hears his voice, the way it comes out higher than when he speaks Japanese and the accent that coats his words, it embarrasses him. It’s embarrassing to not sound like Langa but it doesn’t stop him from trying. It doesn’t stop him from saying the words right back.

“I love you, Langa.”

Reki never stops trying because he knows that his words always have Langa laughing that happy laughter, light and sweet. He’s not mocking Reki; he’s smiling that grin that doesn’t need to be seen to know that it’s there. He’s laughing out of love, his happiness breaking from his lips in the form of a downpour of giggles.

“God I love it when you…”

The switch back to Japanese sounds so natural when it comes to Langa. He has that ability to flip back and forth between the languages, sometimes in the same sentence. He has the power to make it sound completely normal, something Reki has yet to achieve. Langa’s breaks, the way he moves in and out of the English and Japanese, weaving the different words together, it has always impressed Reki. But the most impressive thing is to watch Langa and Nanako talk to one another; now that is impressive workmanship of a true bilingual.

“The things I’d do to be able to kiss you right now.”

Reki giggles into the phone as he pulls his knees to his chest. He feels ridiculous, he feels like a child, but he can’t help but feel giddy. He can’t help the laughter because Langa doesn’t know that soon he will be able to kiss Reki. Soon, Reki will be able to claim that kiss Langa is promising him.

“I’d cross the ocean to be with you right now if that means anything to you.”

More giggles as Langa sighs. He muffles them this time, afraid of having drawn attention to himself. He can feel the girl behind the counter of the food stand staring at him. Or maybe she isn’t at all, but the paranoia has settled and Reki can’t shake the feeling of being observed. He always feels like he’s being watched in open areas like these, judged for his uneven laughter or for its pitchiness. He doesn’t like feeling judged for it so he hides it whenever he feels it get out of control. He hides it around everyone except Langa, Langa who’s told him a thousand times already that he loves his laughter. He never hides around Langa, Langa the only person who’s told him that he loves him just the way he is, Langa who’s laughing along with him.

“And you dare call me the sap?” The laughter calms, the choked giggles turning to a soft chuckle. “But same. I’d really do anything to be with you.”

“Soon?”

Reki bites the inside of his lips as the word comes out. It was a slip, his excitement getting the best of him. He tries to disguise it as a question or a suggestion, a coverup in hopes of not ruining the surprise, but he isn’t sure if he succeeded or not. Langa has his airhead moment, but he’s a lot sharper than people give him credit for. If he really wants to get to the bottom of something, Langa can do it; it’s just that most of the time, he doesn’t care enough to investigate.

“I’m gonna be with you as soon as I can, Reki. And that’s a promise I will never break.”

Another yawn escapes Reki as he curls up in his seat. It’s silent between the two now, the conversation having died down, but Reki knows Langa is smiling just like he is. Or at least, he sure hopes he is; he had that lightness in his voice, that tone he takes only when he’s smiling.

And Reki? Well, he’s definitely grinning into his hoodie now, nose buried deep in the collar of his sweatshirt. He can’t bite it down anymore. He can’t help but smile as his ears heat up at the sound of Langa’s voice once more. He can’t help the blush that arises as the English comes through once more, Langa’s voice teasing and so attractive. Reki can’t calm the blush, not when Langa’s voice has dropped as it always does when he falls into his native English.

“You’re tired, Sunshine.” Reki scoffs at the name but his nose is still buried deep in the thick yellow cotton of his hoodie. He scoffs but they both know how much Reki loves the pet name. They both know that Reki can’t resist the name, even if it’s used teasingly, the playful tone of voice going with it. “You’re tired and you’re gonna be grumpy in the morning. And when you’re grumpy, you become this snappy little thunder cloud instead of my beautiful, bright summer sun. So how about you go get some sleep, my Love? Go sleep and promise to dream of me?”

Reki groans as he finally straightens out. He rolls his eyes but he knows it’s pointless; no one except the people walking by him will see his reaction. He’s alone, but it truly feels like Langa is right next to him. It feels like he’s already in the same room at Langa, even if he’s still hundreds of kilometers away. But he’s only hundreds of kilometers away instead of thousands. He’s so close now, even if it sounds like there’s still so much distance separating them.

“You…”

Reki sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. If there’s one thing he’s come to realize, it’s that Langa only becomes this obnoxious when he’s speaking English. It’s as if he has these two personas, a more composed and calmer one when he’s speaking Japanese and a shit-starter one when he’s speaking English. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t know how to be this cocky bastard in Japanese. Maybe there’s still some sort of language barrier, one that prevents him from being this playfully irritating. It would make sense; Reki knows that, while he’s fluent enough to be conversational, he can’t manage quite the same edges and subtleties as a native English speaker like Langa. He hasn’t quite yet mastered the cocky bastard-ness Langa teases him with, but one day he’ll get it. One day he’ll match Langa’s energy. He just needs to try and practice his English, which he’s adamant about doing whenever Langa pokes fun at him in the language.

“Would you like that, Weather Boy.”

“I’m pretty sure it ‘Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy.’”

Reki groans once more as Langa laughs on the other end. He really is a cocky bastard, but he’s Reki’s cocky bastard. He’s his lovable idiot, the boy he fell in love with the day the snowflakes began to fall in Okinawa, the boy he loves enough to cross the world for. He loves Langa more than anyone in the world, but that doesn’t stop him from huffing as he falls back into his familiar Japanese.

“I really don’t give a shit, man. I’m tired and—”

“Sleep, Reki. You need to rest that wonderful body of yours and close your beautiful eyes. Your board isn’t going to go anywhere and if you really don’t want it to be alone for some odd reason, rest your head on your workbench and close your eyes for a bit. I know you can do it; if you can fall asleep at S, then you can nap in your workshop.”

“That was once!”

“Once is enough for me to know that you can fall asleep anywhere now. So good night, my Love. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to text me when you wake up.”

Reki sighs as he curls up in his seat. He won’t deny that the exhaustion is really settling in now, his restless sleep really having done nothing for him. So he doesn’t fight Langa or his heavy eyes. He doesn’t protest as he yawns once more.

“Fine, fine. But just, before I hang up, one thing.”

“I love you too, Reki. And I miss you loads.”

Light laughter fills the air once more as tears of fatigue form at the corner of Reki’s eyes. “Well, yes, I love you and miss you, but that’s not what I was going to say. Just wanted to tell you that I did order you something for your birthday and I just got the confirmation that you should receive it this afternoon. Like, your afternoon.”

“Reki…” Silence, but it’s not filled with disappointment or anything. There’s a fondness that hangs in that silence. “You shouldn’t have. But thank you. Whatever it is, I know I’ll love it.”

“I sure hope you do because it wasn’t cheap, man.”

“Now close your eyes, my Love. Close your eyes and I’ll be waiting for you in your dreams.”

“Disgusting.” Laughter mingles; Reki hasn’t laughed this much in so long. “But I can’t wait. So for real, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Reki. And sleep tight, my Sunshine.”

With one last goodbye, the call disconnects and Reki snuggles and buries his nose in the collar of his hoodie. The seat is far from comfortable, even worse than the airplane seats, but he’s so drained that he’s out like a light. He’s out cold and when he finally opens his eyes again, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it’s because a woman is taping his shoulder. If it weren’t for her, a woman he almost mistakes for his mother, he would have missed his last flight. If it wasn’t for the kindness of this stranger, a woman who seemed very worried for him, then he might have missed his chance to be with Langa.

So he thanks her over and over before dashing off, finally boarding the last step leading him to the end of his journey.

-

3 - Arrival

Reki feels his heart pounding in his chest. He’s been standing in front of an apartment building door for the past five minutes, freezing in the snow, but he can’t bring himself to knock. If he thought leaving the airport was scary, this is even scarier. The address matches the one Nanako sent him, but he’s still nervous. He doesn’t want to knock on the wrong door in a foreign country. He doesn’t want some random person to open the door and force him to explain that he just has the wrong address. He doesn’t think he would survive that humiliation.

With a deep breath, Reki finally musters up the courage to ring. It has to be the right door. It has to be since it is the correct address and the door seems familiar enough. It has to be the same door as the door he’s seen a handful of times whenever Langa video calls him on his way home. And as he presses the button, the door clicks unlocked and Reki slips in.

Though he is a little calmer now, the warmth of the building flooding through him, he’s not yet completely relaxed. His heart is still pounding in his chest as he stares at the stairs in front of him. This is the last step to the surprise he’s been planning for well over a month. He just needs to climb one last flight of stairs and he’ll be there; he’ll be in the same room as Langa in just moments. Once he finds it in himself to climb that last flight of stairs, he knows he won’t be able to contain himself much longer. Once he climbs that last flight of stairs, he knows everything, all his fears, all his anxiety, it’ll have all been worth it. Langa will have made it worth it.

A smile quirks at the corner of Reki’s mouth as he peels a piece of paper off the door. It’s a little comforting to read Japanese after having been surrounded by English for the past couple of nerve-wracking hours. It’s comforting to recognize Nanako’s handwritten, the characters so elegant and clean, so unlike Langa’s handwriting. It’s comforting to know that he’s expected by people he cares so deeply for and who evidently care for him as well.

‘The door’s unlocked, just come in. But don’t make noise. -Nanako’

One last deep breath gives Reki the courage to open the door. It creaks ever so lightly as he slowly pushes it open, but his presence almost goes unnoticed. Nanako doesn’t react right away, her attention riveted on her cutting board. It’s only when Reki shuts the door and pulls off his boots, now standing in the entrance slightly awkwardly, does he get the woman’s attention. She smiles kindly at him, her eyes shining the same way her son’s do. Just being in the same room as Nanako warms Reki’s heart; finally, he's back with people he knows.

“Langa, baby! Could you get the door for me?”

A muffled groan is heard through the closed bedroom door, but as always, Langa complies with his mother’s wishes. He leaves his room, though reluctantly, but the moment his eyes meet Reki’s, the boy freezes. The indifference on his face melts away; his eyes grow wide, lips parting as if he wants to say something but finds himself unable to do so. He just stands there, gaping and staring.

“What’s up, dude?”

Reki knows that his voice cracked, emotions bleeding through his words. He knows he doesn’t sound as confident or chill as he wanted to sound, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even matter that his bag is hitting the floor with a thump or that his suitcase is tumbling back. Nothing matters, nothing except Langa who’s crashing against him, arms circling around his neck as he clings to Reki. Nothing matters except for Langa breathing his name, blue eyes filled with crystal tears. Nothing matters except Langa.

Reki’s surprised they didn’t crash into the wall given how he stumbled back as Langa’s body crashed against his. He’s surprised that they aren’t on the floor, a messy pile of limbs and emotions, but he doesn’t linger on that surprise. He doesn’t question his steadiness, even if he feels his knees buckle under the weight of his boyfriend and of his feelings. He doesn’t question anything, only focusing on Langa. All that pulses through his body are thoughts of Langa, how he feels in his arms, how warm he feels against him, how he feels with his nose buried in the crook of Reki’s neck. Reki doesn’t think of anything else as he buries his nose in Langa’s hair, trying his best to not let out a choked-up sob. He’s been waiting for so long for this moment. He’s been waiting so long to cling to Langa, cling to him as if he'd disappear the moment he slips out of their embrace. He’s been waiting so long to be here.

Through the silent tears, Reki sees Nanako. She makes herself scarce, quickly patting her son’s back and sending Reki one of her reassuring smiles. “I’ll be back later tonight,” she says. “Give you boys time to catch up.”  And she doesn’t wait for either one to say anything before grabbing her bag and coat. She slips out of the apartment, but not without giving them one last fond look. And Reki flushes under her gaze; he knows that Nanako is very happy for them, she’s expressed more than once how glad she is that Langa’s back in good spirits, but it still doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. She is still Langa’s mother; there’s something a little flustering about being so openly affectionate with Langa in front of her.

“Reki?”

Reki’s attention is quickly turned to Langa, Langa who is lifting his head from his shoulder. Puffy red eyes stare back at him as he takes Reki’s face in his hands, delicate fingertips tracing constellations with the stars scattered across Reki’s cheeks and nose. He knows his face is also damp with tears, but Langa doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just wiping the stray tears away in a similar manner as Reki. If Langa is brushing away the drops from the starry sky imprinted on Reki’s skin, then Reki’s wiping the rain away from the blue sky before him. They mirror each other in their mess of emotions.

“Reki? This… You’re really here.”

“I’m really here, dude.”

Reki feels his heart flutter in his chest and his stomach flips as Langa presses his lips to his. It’s not their first kiss, far from it, but it feels so new. It’s the first of many, the first after a long month of nothing but promises. It’s the first of so many kisses, kisses Reki can’t wait to share with his boyfriend.

If he felt weak in the knees before, it’s nothing compared to now. Instinctively, his arms circle around Langa’s neck, Langa who has now pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. He feels so soft under Reki’s touch, porcelain skin under calloused fingers. Langa feels so soft, cold snow melting under the warm sun. He melts, his cheek pressed against Reki’s hand which has come back to cradle his face. Langa melts, but not as much as Reki who’s melting into the kiss.

“I…” Langa’s breath is warm against Reki’s lips as he pulls back ever so slightly. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I did say that your birthday present would arrive this afternoon, didn’t I?”

Another kiss is pressed to Reki’s lips, a kiss that has his head spinning. It’s more smile than it is kiss, but those are some of his favorite types of kisses. Langa’s happiness is one of the sweetest things Reki’s ever tasted, sweeter even than all the ice cream they had gotten when they were back in Okinawa. The only thing sweeter than his happiness is his love itself, the love that seeps through everything he does, from the way he looks at Reki to the way his voice slows, an octave lower as he whispers sweet words against the lips he’s just been kissing.

“You did. You really did and I never would have guessed…”

“I know it’s technically not your birthday yet here, but back home, it’s already tomorrow, so,” Reki kisses the tip of Langa’s nose, giggling ever so lightly, “happy birthday, man. I hope you’re not too disappointed or hate your present too much.”

“Hate it?” Langa’s eyes widen once more, that deer-in-headlights look he has whenever he doesn’t understand something taking over his face. “Reki, why would you think I would be disappointed or hate it?” His hands find Reki’s face as he presses their foreheads together, his blue eyes falling shut. “Reki, you’re the best present a guy could ever ask for. There’s nothing better I could have ever asked for. I just…” His eyes flutter open and Reki feels the butterflies in his stomach, butterflies he thought he had long gotten over. “I love you. I love you so much, Reki. I love you so much, Sunshine; please never forget that.”

“I love you too, Langa.”

Light giggles break from Reki’s lips as Langa kisses him over and over, whispering that ‘I love you’ into every inch of skin he can touch. How he had missed Langa’s touch, the way he would hold onto him, nimble fingers fiddling with the stray locks of hair at the base of his neck. How Reki missed the feeling of having Langa all to himself, a privilege he never realized he had until it was taken away from him temporarily. So there would be no wasting of this time; Reki was going to take advantage of every second of these 10 days to come. Nothing could stop him from kissing Langa, clinging to him once more. Nothing except maybe an involuntary yawn.

“You’re still tired, Sunshine.”

Reki scoffs but his smile is huge. He can feel the ache in his cheeks, but he won’t stop smiling. He can’t stop smiling, not when Langa is finally right in front of him. “Maybe just a little.”

“Would a nap make you feel better?”

Reki hums, pushing himself up to meet Langa’s lips in a kiss once more. Silky blue hair slips between his fingers, silky blue hair he’s missed so much. He’s missed Langa so much. “But I just got here. And anyway, you—”

Reki feels his breath hitch as his coat is peeled off his body. Langa leaves a phantom touch on his body, from his shoulders down to his fingertips. And as the puffy coat falls to the ground, fingers lock with his, cold hands clasped with his now sweaty ones. A shiver shakes his whole body as Langa presses close, whispering something that turns Reki’s face redder than his hair.

“We could cuddle until you fall asleep.”

Pretty laughter breaks from Langa’s lips as he presses a kiss to Reki’s cheek, Reki who is so very enthusiastically nodding. His laughter is by far the prettiest sound Reki has heard all day, that breathy giggle he loves so much. This laughter, if he’s lucky, he’ll hear it every day of his life. This laughter, he knows it’ll be one of the many things that will make him fall in love just a little more with every passing day. This laughter, it’s one of the best sounds in the world, even if it’s drowned out by his gasp, Langa sweeping him off his feet.

The only thing Reki can think of that’s better than Langa’s laughter is the sound of his own when it mingles with the one of the boy he loves so much. Because together, they’re better. Together, as they flop down onto Langa’s twin-sized bed, they can take on every challenge life throws their way. Together, they can take on the world. Well, they’ll be able to take on the world right after a long-needed nap.

[helliontherapscallion]

Scientia Potentia Est (Adrenaline Junkie Part 10)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: slight PTSD, mentions of death/dying, some description of injury/scars, slight panic attack

Word count: 2,734

(A/N): how are yall liking the story so far? 

You were woken up by the obnoxious chirping of various songbirds right outside your window. Cracking open your heavy eyes, you glanced at the clock on your wall. 7 AM. You only got about an hour of sleep. Great. 

Groaning, you reluctantly left the beckoning warmth of your comfortable blanket cocoon and stretched out your limbs. You stood up and trudged towards your luggage that laid haphazardly in the corner of your childhood room. Awkwardly twisting your body around to take off the sensors attached to your back and sliding off the prosthetic, you put it on your bed. Pulling out a random shirt and pants without giving them any real thought, you shambled off to the bathroom to shower and preen your wing. 

You stood under the warm running water for a while just doing nothing but trying to wake yourself up. The steam drifted idly throughout the room as you stepped out of the shower and finished your morning routine. You still felt dead inside even after your refreshing shower. Is this what Philza felt like in the mornings? Is this what death feels like? Oh wait. You already knew what dying felt like, you’ve died twice already and you had the scars to prove it. 

The scar on the right side of your back remained prominent and very noticable, but it faded slightly around the edges. The other scar that stretched across your cheek and stretched down to your stomach was new. They were red and raised. You remembered how you got them like it was yesterday. You, your brothers, your nephew, and Tubbo were following Eret still celebrating your win. You all completely trusted him, he was your teammate after all. Trusting him was a mistake. It was foolish. That power hungry bastard blew up everything you and your brothers built and worked for. He was a traitor to L’manberg. Everyone present lost a life in the explosion.

You shuddered, remembering the explosion. You remembered the feeling of extreme heat on your skin and the deafening boom that left a ringing in your ears. You remembered laying on the ground several feet away from your brothers’ corpses. You were the last to die that day. Everything hurt as you laid there slowly bleeding out from the deep gash running from under your eye to your midsection. The plumes of smoke floated up towards the sunny sky as everything burned around you. You hoped you would suffocate from smoke inhalation before you would bleed out again. The flames licked at your skin, almost taunting you with your oncoming death. Why couldn’t you have died instantly like everyone else? Why did you always have to die painfully?

A soft knock snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you realized that you were clutching the side of the sink so hard that your knuckles were turning white. 

“(Y/n), are you in there?” It was Arthur. What was he doing up so early?

You wiped at the tears that had gathered in your eyes and cleared your throat. “Y-yeah buddy. I’ll be out in a second.”

You turned on the water faucet and splashed some cold water in your face. It somewhat worked for the blotchiness and redness, but your eyes were still puffy. You were just going to have to get out of the bathroom and pray that Arthur and Philza won’t notice. You took a deep breath and opened the door. There Arthur stood looking at you happily.

“What’re ya doing up so early bud?”

“My brother said that I’m a morning person.”

Brother?

Despite your confusion, you did your best to grin at him. “Well, early bird, do you wanna help me make breakfast?”

His eyes lit up with excitement and he jumped up and down slightly. “Yes please! I love cooking, Mama and Papa would always let me help!”

Oh, you absolutely hated not knowing something. You needed to have that chat with him as soon as you could. 

You smirked. “C’mon then, lets go get started!”

He sprinted down the hallway and towards the stairs. You felt a slight panic flare up inside of you. “Arthur, please don’t run down the stairs!”

To your great relief, he listened and slowed down to a brisk walking speed. You speedwalked over to him. For someone so little, he was surprisingly fast. By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was already in the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, Philza was sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. As per usual, he looked like he’d rather go back to sleep. You walked over to the coffee maker and poured yourself a cup, you were going to need it. Philza’s tired eyes followed you as you poured the steaming liquid into your mug.

“Tired?” His voice was raspier and deeper than usual.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.” You sipped at the bitter drink before wrinkling your nose and stirring in an ungodly amount of sugar. Sipping it again, you sighed in content. That was much better. 

You walked to the chest and pulled out some bacon strips, eggs, and bread. Setting them on the counter, you turned to Arthur. He was standing on his tiptoes trying to clearly see over the counter. You chuckled, pulling a chair out from the table and dragging it over to him so he could stand on it. 

“Don’t get too excited kid, we have to wash our hands first. Then we can get to the fun part.”

Arthur scrambled over to the sink, pulling his chair along with him. Though he was extremely excited, he actually took the time to properly wash his hands. Once you both were clean, you both got to cooking. You let him scramble the eggs and butter the toast while you did the rest of the work. You didn’t want him to get burned, especially by the bacon grease. 

Cooking was quickly done with Arthur’s help and before you knew it, breakfast was already halfway done. Over the course of eating, Philza was slowly waking up and adding his own input into the conversation. You were hardly paying attention when Arthur asked you a question.

“Hey, (y/n), where’s your wing?” 

“Hm?”

“The fake one.”

Your eyes widened. Shit, you forgot to put it back on after your shower. You suddenly felt every single little touch on your amputated wing. The chair, a light breeze from the open window, the brush of feathers from your complete wing, everything. You felt vulnerable and naked without it on. You felt powerless. 

“Oh, I- must’ve forgot to put it back on again. Excuse me.”

You stood up from your chair, a screech resounding from the legs scratching against the floor. Taking care of your half-eaten breakfast, you tried to hurry up to your room as fast as you could scolding yourself the entire way for being so forgetful. So stupid. 

You locked the door behind you and saw your silver wing laying on your bed staring at you, as if taunting you for leaving it behind. You rushed to put it back on. Though you felt your muscles tense up because of the sudden cool, it felt incredibly relieving to have your wing back on. You felt whole. 

You awkwardly twisted around to fasten the leather belts around the base of your amputated wing and attach the sensors back onto specific spots on your back where your flight muscles were. You put one on your deltoid, one on your trapezius, one on both teres muscles, one on your infraspinatus, and lastly two on your latissimus dorsi muscle. It usually took you at least thirty minutes of testing the prosthetic’s movements and moving the sensors around slightly to get the placement of the sensors exactly correct, so you assumed that breakfast was over and done with ten minutes ago. 

Your wing was finally connected and fully functional, so you left your room in search for Arthur. You eventually found him in the basement in your old workshop looking through your filing cabinet of blueprints. He mustn't have heard you come down the stairs because he didn’t react. He just kept looking through your old papers, pulling a few out and putting them on a nearby crafting table. 

“Arthur?”

He jumped, the paper he was in the middle of pulling out slipped back into its place inside the filing cabinet. He didn’t turn around to face you at first, so you thought that he was just trying to catch his breath from your little scare. Feeling bad, you walked closer and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you. What’re ya doin?”

“I-I’m looking at your old inventions, Philza let me come down here to look at them while he tried to find me more clothes I could wear that fit.”

“Buddy, you should’ve waited until I put my wing back on, I could’ve shown you my prized inventions.”

He looked down to his feet. “I’m sorry (y/n), I just really wanted to see them and you were taking so long. I couldn’t wait.”

You frowned, putting a finger under his chin and making him look at you. You saw guilt darkening his eyes. “Arthur, never say sorry for wanting knowledge. Knowledge is perhaps our greatest weapon against the unknown in the universe. I want you to remember the phrase ‘scientia potentia est’.”

He sniffled. “Scientia… potentia est?”

“Yes, it means ‘knowledge is power’. Knowledge and power are two very… wide subjects, which is why I like the phrase. In a way, it means that you could pull off anything with knowledge. A lot of inventors live by that motto. Personally, it’s a motto that I swear by. Having knowledge gets me out of a lot of sticky situations,” you kindly smiled at him. “Now, do you want me to show you how my prosthetic works? I could even show you the first prototype if you’d like.”

To your delight, the smile that you often saw him wearing quickly returned and he nodded vigorously. You could get used to people wanting to know how your inventions work and why they worked the way that they did. You spent the next two hours explaining and answering questions about your prosthetic. You let him hold and examine your old leather wing. You showed him how the sensors were placed and warned him that if they were even very very slightly off, the wing wouldn’t work right. You even let him craft a sensor with you. 

“So, do you have any interest in being an inventor when you grow up?”

“Yes, I wanna be just like you! You’re like, the bestest inventor ever!”

You took a deep breath, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “Arthur, would you like to become my protégé?”

He scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes in confusion. “Your what?”

You lightly laughed. “Do you know what an apprentice is?” He shook his head. “Well, I want to take you under my wing. Teach you everything I know.”

His eyes comically stretched and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. If it were possible, you’d imagine stars shining in his eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Naturally. You’re perhaps the most ambitious person I’ve ever met in terms of your goals, and at such a young age too. I’ve never met anybody besides fellow innovators that actually wants to know how my inventions are made. It’s refreshing in a sense. Would you accept me being your mentor?”

“I- yes! Yes, yes! A million, no, a billion times yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He cheered, squealing with delight and jumping up and down. 

You laughed. “Woah there bud, cool your jets. We have work to do, but first…” you sighed. You really didn’t want to ruin his moment, but you needed to talk to him about this if he were to become your apprentice.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes still wide with excitement. “First what?” “First… we need to talk. About your story, I mean.”

“What do you mean? We are talking.”

“No, not like that. We need to talk about your family. And how you want me to help you with The Warden.”

He visibly deflated, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to change moods so quickly. It was almost unnatural how fast he switched emotions. “Oh… Do we have to?”

“Yes, Arthur. We have to trust each other if we’re gonna work together.”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and fiddled with his thumbs. He looked very anxious to talk about his family.

“If you want, I can show you where I go to relax and think. Would you like that?”

He nodded and wiped at his eyes. You grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. Since Philza was out, you wrote him a little note and put it on the table where he should see it right away if he came back before you two. You grabbed your satchel and filled it with two glass vials of water, a few snacks, and a blanket. Arthur just stared at you confusedly. 

You led him outside and hesitated. Should you ask him if he wanted to fly? It would be a lot faster to get there. “Arthur, would you like to fly there? I know it’s scary, but once you get used to it it’s so much fun!”

He reluctantly nodded, so you bent over and wrapped your arms around him to pick him up. You felt him tense up as you prepped for take off. “Hold on tight, I promise I won’t drop you.”

You pushed yourself off from the ground with a powerful flap of your wings causing Arthur to shriek in surprise. You and Arthur shot into the sky at a moderate speed. When you steadied yourself high above the treeline, you looked down at the boy in your arms. He had his eyes tightly closed and he was shaking slightly. “Arthur, you can open your eyes now.”

You watched as he peeked one of his eyes open and looked at you, you smiled encouragingly at him. “Go ahead, look around.” He observed his surroundings with caution before he opened his other eye. He was looking around in amazement, taking in every single detail from a bird’s eye view. You snorted before redirecting your attention back to flying. You needed to pay attention, especially when you had a passenger that would carry on your legacy after you die. 

The flight went by with Arthur giggling at various mobs below and sometimes pointing out something he thought was interesting to you. Your destination was now several meters ahead of you. Landing, you set Arthur down steadying him when he stumbled a little.

You took out the blanket and spread it across the grassy ground, smoothing it out. You beckoned Arthur to sit down next to you on it and you two overlooked the boundless expanse of the grassy plains. 

“This is where I came up with most of my inventions. It’s where I first tested my prosthetic. There’s where I jumped off.”

“How’d you know it worked?”

“I didn’t before I tested it. Looking back, it was stupid of me to do. Never, ever, do what I did.”

“What if-”

“No what if’s. Consult me before you test out anything dangerous in the future. I mean it, Arthur.”

“But I want to be like you.”

“Trust me kid, you don’t wanna be exactly like me. Besides, you’re you. You’re not (y/n) Minecraft. You’re Arthur Fox. You’re your own person and it’s important for you to understand that. Never let anyone take that away from you.”

He fell silent as he contemplated your words. You assumed that nobody’s ever told him that before, both due to his young age and potential lack of adult figures in his life. 

“Artie, you can tell me about your life when you’re ready. Take as much time as you need, we still have half the day left before we have to start heading back.”

He wordlessly nodded, turning his gaze to stare blankly past the cliff. In the meantime, you would wait patiently until he felt comfortable telling you.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added): 

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[bigskydreaming]

I kinda wanna fucking scream, so here, have a offline bullshit rant post.

So I’ve literally been trying to get my stupid fucking meds for over a MONTH now at this point, which I’m sure you can all see like, my mood is just wooooonderful these days. Not an excuse, casual reminder that yeah you do gotta take care of your own space so if my mood is dragging anyone down, I’m totes on board with blocking or unfollowing or y’know, burning me in effigy or something. Okay maybe not that last part. But still. You get it. And its not even that like, I need mood stabilizers per se, lol, so shout out to the armchair diagnosticians helpfully peppering my inbox still in their quest to oh so slickly be like ‘hey you’re a hot mess, take your hot messness away from tumblr’ like lol, didn’t ask.....nah, its mostly the perpetual lack of sleep and chronic pain issues that I have zero distraction from when my specific combo of meds isn’t able to let me actually weaponize my ADHD properly and power through that. Its a whole thing. Whatever. Just go with it.

POINT IS. So I’ve been trying to do this for over a month now, first obstacle was even just getting the money together for my refill appointment which is a whopping $150, because I have to pay out of pocket for mental health stuff these days because I had to switch my insurance over to something that paid out more heavily for physical benefits like my jaw surgery.....and because of the pandemic, and how many psychiatrists in my area and that I could actually reach aren’t taking new patients during the pandemic since most of them are conducting business virtually still, like, I have barely any resources for seeking out and trying new psychiatrist offices in the meanwhile that might charge less and I’m kinda stuck with the one I have because the last thing I can afford is to have like, NO psychiatrist at the moment, y’know?

So first I had to have that to even BOOK the appointment, which took forever because rent and food are a joy to accrue when you can barely manage to function as an actual employee of the capitalist machine ahfsklhflkahflakf, but so then I did that and like, got an appointment put on the books for August 19th. That was the soonest they could fit me in back when I paid them for my appointment about a week and a half ago. No, two weeks ago now? Eh, time is fake. ANYWAY, so that wasn’t gonna work for me, so basically the entirety of last week was devoted to constantly calling and trying to check in every other hour to see if they had any sooner cancellations I could take, because for whatever fucking reason, they just ‘don’t do’ a cancellation list wherein they call the next person on the list once they have a cancellation. Whatever.

So finally got a cancellation slot with a virtual appointment last Saturday night at random as fuck 8:40. Okay cool. Most of my refills are fairly simple, no real changes, but two are controlled substances so like, they have to do their due diligence and go through the proper protocols before giving me another prescription to one or whatever. Fine. Okay.

So I call the CVS they sent the prescription for my ADHD med to, the very next morning. One of the controlled substances, and the key med to like....making me functional instead of a rambling disjointed whirlibird of a thought emitter. Problem is, that medication is on back order. Won’t be in until Tuesday. Ugh. Okay, fine. Nothing I can do about it, because while the specific provider I spoke to in order to GET my refill prescriptions was taking an appointment the night before, the actual offices that schedule appointments and connect patients through to their providers was closed for the weekend, so I couldn’t even ask for them to send the scrip somewhere else.

SO. I go back to the CVS on Monday, hoping that maybe it came in early because not like I can do much else in the meanwhile. Course its not there, but oh well. I toy with the idea of calling to ask my provider to send the scrip to a different pharmacy (only had it sent to this one cuz its within walking distance to me, and since I can’t drive for medical reasons and Uber’s are expensive as fuck, just for errands, like, even though walking is sooooo not fun for me physically, like it is what it is). I decide against it because here’s another fun fact about this controlled substance....for security reasons, pharmacies don’t have to tell people over the phone if they have it in stock or not. Like, they won’t just say no we don’t have it in stock - I mean, they WILL say that, but that doesn’t actually mean anything because that’s what most of them say about that particular medication no matter whether or not they DO, and then just cite security protocols, so you have to actually GO to the store in question to ask them and even get a real answer to whether or not they even HAVE it in stock to FILL a prescription if its sent over. And no, the provider won’t just send scrips into several different pharmacies at once and just be whichever has it in stock can fill it - because again, controlled substance.

SO. I decide its not worth it to try getting the scrip sent over somewhere else, because I’d have to at least waste money on an Uber to even travel to various pharmacies and even check if they CAN fill it sooner than this one, when at least this place will have it in tomorrow. Its just one more day at this point.

Except then I go back on Tuesday. Oh sorry, don’t know why that other person told you we’d have our order in today, our shipments of that medication don’t come in until Wednesdays.

So I go back Wednesday. Success! They have it in stock. I go to pay, pulling out my goodRx coupon that was just printed out that morning, specifically citing the price for CVS at Target. The pharmacy manager says sorry, we don’t honor that coupon here for controlled substances like this one. I say: record scratch? He’s like yeah, that’s at the discretion of individual pharmacies, and we don’t honor that price for this specific medication, because we don’t want to attract customers only coming here to get that medication filled for that price. (This pharmacy is right at the edge of Inglewood and Culver City, for anyone who is familiar with those neighborhoods. The implications are exactly as they appear to be). So I’m like, what’s the regular generic price? He quotes me something that’s $180 more than the coupon, and thus $180 more than I have since I was focused totally on getting THIS amount ASAP, so I could get these meds so I could do more work and make more money. You see the train of thought. I’m like well that’s awesome, I don’t have anything close to that. Hey. Weird question. Why did nobody I talked to the past three days in a row that I’ve walked into this store in person to request this refill, like, mention this little tidbit about not honoring this coupon so instead of waiting for a backorder that would do me no good, I could have been spending that time having my prescription transferred somewhere that WOULD honor it?

He’s like, well did you mention to any of them that you’d be using a goodRx coupon for this particular medication? I said, yup. He said, you sure? I said well the specific process each time was I came in, I asked if this medication was in, they said what’s your name and date of birth, I provided that info, they said are you paying out of pocket, we don’t have valid insurance info for this on file for you, I said yup paying out of pocket with a goodRx coupon, they said *clickety clack of the keyboard* nope, sorry, we won’t have this medicine in until Tuesday, I mean Wednesday. 

He’s like, well you must be misremembering or they would have told you at the time that we don’t take GoodRx coupons on this medication. I’m like, dude, it was you. It was literally you that I spoke to two of those three times, right here at the counter, in person. I’m gonna go ahead and trust my memory of those interactions and what was said there over yours since you don’t actually remember having talked to me two times in the last three days. He’s like, I gotta go help another customer. There is no other customer. I leave. Fun day for everyone.

So then I call around town to at least check which CVS will actually honor the coupon I have and the price that I can afford to pay it at. I don’t bother asking if they even have the medication in stock because I know its not guaranteed to be a CORRECT answer, but at least I can see who accepts this damn coupon. Also, reason I’m only trying big brand pharmacies instead of smaller, hole in the wall ones is because again, controlled substance, and I know from experience that the bigger brand pharmacies are at least more likely to have that med in stock whereas most smaller ones tend to run out very quickly as they usually only get enough for their existing/regular customers and a little extra.

I find a CVS five miles away - not walkable, gonna have to Uber. Call my psychiatrist office again to ask them to transfer the scrip, front office says they’ll send the request to my provider, who usually checks and fulfills such requests in 24-48 hours. I’m like okay cool, can I get a phone call to let me know when that happens, so at least I know when to check back to follow up if it hasn’t happened yet for whatever reason? They’re like no, the pharmacy will send you a text or call when they get the prescription sent over and you can take it from there with them. I’m like okay, but I’ve done this a bunch of times and know from experience the pharmacy does NOT in fact always call or text, so is there a certain time to follow up to inquire if the provider has already sent the scrip and the pharmacy SHOULD have it by now or if the delay is on the provider’s end? Front office is like yeah no. I’m like, swell.

So that was yesterday. I call the pharmacy (which I still don’t even know if they have the medication IN STOCK to fill the scrip even once they GET the scrip, and won’t until I can actually Uber out there, but one thing at a time at this point) at like 9 pm, they’re a 24 hour pharmacy, and they’re like nope, we got nothing (this is after spending an hour and a half on hold to even TALK to someone at the pharmacy). Called them again today at noon, still nada. Technically I have another 29 hours before the window in which the provider is supposed to send the refill scrip to this new location, before I can be like, okay so they still haven’t done it, can we send him a nudge or another request. The 24-48 hour window will only actually EXPIRE after their offices close on Friday meaning it’ll be Monday before I can even actually REACH someone again to ask them to send the scrip again, if the pharmacy hasn’t ACTUALLY gotten it by Friday night, and pessimistically, I’m not super inclined to assume that they will at this point. 

I’m antsy, irritable, hungry because I don’t even know for SURE sure if the new pharmacy will ACTUALLY honor the coupon or say no sorry we don’t do that here either, whoever told you that was wrong, or if they’ll even actually have it in stock versus I’ll have to have it sent somewhere else AGAIN, so I have to pinch every penny possible in order to ensure I have the most money possible once my prescription IS filled in case the price is more than I expected again or in case I have to take Ubers there or further than I expected or basically....shit happens that I don’t expect. And this is what I’m basically spending all my time doing instead of working, because trying to get work done in this state is like....the harder I try to make it happen, the less it actually gets done, so I try and prioritize this and its roadblock after roadblock dragging out and wasting my time, and like yeah, I can post and shit while I’m doing this aka sitting on hold or walking around town trying to get shit filled because its fine if I ramble incoherently along the way in posts, but actual WORK work requires like....fucking coherency and succinctness and not having to stop and start every five minutes to call someone else, and oh yeah, being able to power through migraine spikes. And just.

I’m very annoyed about anything and everything to do with this shit. The hoops you have to jump through to even get the stuff that like....actualizes your hoop jumping ability, is just....*gnashing of teeth*

Anyway. So that’s my offline bullshit rant. Yay. The end.

[honey-dewey]

We Can’t all Have 20/20 Vision

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: 2,730

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

When Mando took you on as a mechanic, you expected you’d be fixing his ship while he bounty hunted. You did not expect him to need his HUD to be fixed, resulting in a very blind mandalorian stumbling his way around his own ship because he’s too stubborn to find an alternative until it finally becomes too much. How will you fare when dear Mando abandons his helmet for a pair of glasses?

A/N: Based off a lovely tumblr post by @javi-djarins in which Mando had garbage vision and needed glasses and I couldn’t help myself. 

Traveling with what was likely the most stoic person in the galaxy was a very interesting way to live life. The mandalorian and his weird green son were the highlights in your otherwise boring life as a mechanic on Tatooine, now technically a mechanic in outer space. 

“Mando!” You yelled through the ship, waist deep in the heater unit. “Mando get your metal ass over here I have a question!” 

The telltale clanking of Mando’s footsteps drew closer, and you wiggled upright, highly aware that you were wearing nothing but your cargo pants and a sweat soaked tank top. “Please explain what the hell this is.” 

“It’s part of the heater.” 

“No it isn’t!” You yelled, holding up the part in question. “It’s a children’s toy that has been melted to form a very shoddy cap. Fuck me, I don’t know how this ship is still flying.” 

Just like that, you tossed the melted toy at Mando and slid into the heater again. 

“Did you call me out here just to yell at me?” Mando asked. You promptly ignored him, fumbling with your tool belt and sighing. 

“Can you pass me that socket wrench?” You asked, shoving your hand out so it was exposed enough for Mando to hand you the wrench. “And the 3/8 socket.” 

The wrench was placed in your hand, and you tucked it to your side only to immediately discover a problem. 

“3/8, not 3/4,” you said, sticking the wrench up. 

“That is the 3/8.” 

“Bitch, can you read?” You asked, sliding upright. “That’s a four, not an eight.” You dragged your toolbox over and found the appropriate socket, peering at Mando as you exchanged the sockets. “Is your HUD okay? You did take that nasty hit the other day, might’ve knocked something out of place 

Mando was still. “It’s fine.” 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” It was childish, but would get the job done. 

“Three?” 

“Four,” you said, squirming back into the heater. “Your HUD is definitely on the fritz. Leave me the helmet whenever, I’ll have that thing fixed before you know it.” 

Mando left, leaving you to continue your assault on the heater until it began to function again. It was a few hours before you were trudging up to the cockpit. You were covered in grease and sweat, but the job was done. 

“Mando!” You announced cheerily, in case he had his helmet off. “What’s up?” 

He turned from where he was playing with Grogu. “Not much. Why?” 

You fell into your copilot’s chair, taking a mechanic’s kit out of your pocket. It was small, a testament to what it was intended to do. “Is he close to sleep?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Get him to fall asleep, I’ll take a crack at that helmet once you do.” 

Mando hesitated, and gestured for you to turn. You did, surprised when something heavy and made of beskar fell into your lap. 

“We’re family. He can see my face.” 

You blinked a few times, but at the notion of a job, your mind went blank. You took a few minutes to familiarize yourself with the complex wiring of the HUD, and then dove right in, using minuscule tools on equally tiny mechanics. It was a tricky job, but you found a good grove with your heels dug into the control board and your knees supporting the helmet in your lap. You stuck your tongue between your teeth, bending your head in an effort to get closer to the problem. 

“Aha!” You said finally, pulling the destroyed part out and looking it over. “There’s the tricky bastard! Should’ve known it was the image processor.” 

“Did you fix it?” Mando asked. He’d been entirely silent until now, and it was a bit unnerving. 

“Unfortunately, no.” You tossed the part onto the control board. “It has to be replaced. You said we’re headed to Arvala-7? I can bargain with the Jawas and find a replacement. You can have this back, but without that image processor, you won’t be able to see much.” 

You held the helmet up, and Mando took it. You heard it slid into his head, and then a string of muffled curses. 

“Oh yeah,” you said, standing to face your mandalorian. “Your power source died too, so good luck getting that modulator to work. It looks like it’s rechargeable though.” 

“It is,” Mando said, and you let out a bark of laughter at his horribly muffled voice. 

At some point that night, he abandoned the helmet entirely, leaving it in the cockpit along with the ruined image processor. You were now completely buried in the ship’s wiring, trying to fix a problem Mando had been complaining about with the carbonite system.

“Mando!” You shouted, squinting at the mess of wires in front of you. “Can you hand me my soldering iron? It should be next to my wrench kit.” 

“Uhh,” Mando hesitated, making you roll your eyes. 

“It’s blue and labeled with ‘soldering iron,’” you said. 

“I can’t read.” 

You stopped. “Yes you can. You read Grogu a book yesterday.” 

“No, I mean,” Mando stammered, and it was probably the first time you’d ever heard him hesitant. “I’m, well, I haven’t exactly got 20/20 vision.” 

“Oh boy,” you said under your breath. “What is your vision?” 

Yet another hesitation. “20/400. The HUD usually fixes my sight for me, but it’s not, y’know.” 

“Holy Maker!” You almost knocked your head against the wall in surprise. “How do you function with vision like that?” 

“I just told you, my HUD.” 

“Rhetorical,” you pointed out, wiggling until you were facing the exit. “Coming out.” 

It took enough shimmying that Mando was actually able to grab his helmet and slide it back on before you were fully out of the walls. He looked down at you, or at least he would be if he could see. 

“I swear,” you grumbled. “We have got to find a better solution. We won’t be on Arvala-7 for another day, and you are not wandering around blind until then because you’re too stubborn to take the helmet off.” 

Mando was quiet. “Would it be easier if I took it off?” 

“Probably,” you said with a shrug, turning away so you could grab your soldering iron. You yanked the cord, swearing a bit before turning back around and immediately yelling and covering your eyes. “Fuck! Warn me next time, I could’ve taken my eye out! And with this thing, that would’ve hurt.” 

Mando shuffled, likely placing his helmet down. You’d caught the barest glimpse of tanned skin and brown hair, but his features were a huge blur. “It’s okay. You can look.” 

You slowly pulled your hand off your eyes, your curiosity winning the small fight in your head. Had he not consented, you wouldn’t have ever looked. But he’d given you the okay, so you did what you wanted to do. You looked at Mando. 

“Oh.” It wasn’t that his appearance surprised you, but it just wasn’t what you expected. After years of wondering, you’d assumed he would have some weird face thing, and yet, the man before you wasn’t odd or bizarre or exceptional. If you saw him on the street, your eyes would’ve slid right over him. “You’re cute.” 

That wasn’t what Mando was expecting. He flushed, turning away from you and covering his mouth with his hand. 

“So, do you wear glasses or something?” You asked, tucking your soldering iron onto your belt and tuning back to the wall as if Mando wasn’t freaking out behind you. “Because that would make this much easier.” 

“Yeah,” Mando said, voice fading as he walked away with familiar sounding footsteps. When he came back, you were back in the wall, dislodging the control board from the back of the carbonite system. 

“Hey, can you fix this?” You asked, blindly passing the control board out. “It just needs to be rewired, but I’m busy.” 

Mando took the board, and you managed to catch snippets of small swears as you worked on the second problem, eventually shimmying out to turn your soldering gun on. 

What you were met with surprised you. Mando, fully armored sans helmet, sitting cross legged on the ground. He was holding your delicate tools in his gloved hands as he fiddled with the control board, and he was wearing glasses. 

You decided he was infinitely cuter with his thick rimmed black glasses and went back to work, determined not to worry about it. “Having fun out there?” You asked when he let out a particularly loud swear and you heard plastic clattering to the ground.

“My glasses keep falling off!” 

You snorted, coming out of the wall and sitting in front of Mando, who had grabbed his glasses from the floor. Watching as he fumbled with the delicate tools and his glasses slipped down his nose again, you resisted the urge to laugh, instead sliding forward and looking at the control board.  “Fuck me you need smaller hands,” you said, using your own hands to grab the thin wires and hold them out of Mando’s way as he worked. “So, tin can, you got a name?” 

“Din.” 

“I’m sorry, did you say tin?”

“No. Din.” 

You huffed. “Shame. Tin would’ve been so funny.” 

Din rolled his eyes, and you laughed. “Is that what you’re hiding under that helmet? Perpetual annoyance?” 

“With you around? Absolutely.” 

You would’ve hit him had he not been holding the carbonite control board. Din shoved his glasses up his nose yet again, swore softly that he hated working in his glasses, and set about completing the repair job. When he finished, you took it and slid it back into place, finishing your work for the day. Din sighed, wiping sweat off his face and setting his glasses back in place as you replaced the wall panel and stood back up. 

“I’m so hungry,” you said loudly as Din grabbed Grogu for dinner. “I could probably eat a whole bantha.” 

“You could not,” Din said, grabbing the three containers that had your dinner. He passed the smallest one to Grogu, who took it eagerly. He handed you a bigger one, and you nodded your thanks before digging in with just as much enthusiasm as Grogu. 

“I think I totally could,” you decided, stabbing a piece of mystery meat and sighing. “Putting up with you is very hungry work.” 

Din chuckled, and you swore your heart skipped a few beats. He ate alongside you, which was surprisingly foreign. He never ate around you. 

Once dinner was eaten and cleaned up, you announced you were headed off to shower. Din let you go, picking Grogu up and taking him to the cockpit to play. 

Your shower was short and sweet. The Crest’s water heater was a piece of junk, but you managed to get a solid ten minutes in before the water began to chill. As you stepped out and dried off, you heard Din’s voice, soft and quiet. He was real kind to Grogu, who was likely about to fall asleep for the night. You put on your pyjamas, stretching and heading to Din’s bunk.

Din looked over as you walked up. He had taken his armor off and was left in the black short sleeved shirt and deep brown pants you often saw him in at the end of the day. “Did you use all the hot water?” 

“This heater is a piece of shit, of course I did.” You leaned against the wall, raising an eyebrow at Grogu, who was settled in Din’s lap. “You, sir, are a huge sap. Imagine if the general public knew about this. The great mandalorian, secretly a giant soft dad.” 

Din sighed, pulling one of Grogu’s favorite books out of a small box he kept by his bunk. He adjusted his glasses and looked up expectantly at you. “Are you going to stick around for story time?” 

“Oh what the hell, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do,” you decided, scooting into the bunk and settling down beside Din. Your hips pressed together in the small space, but no one seemed to mind. 

The book was one you’d picked up for Grogu. It was a childhood favorite of yours, full of princesses, daring sword fights, and a brilliant love story. It was long, so Grogu never stayed awake for all of it. But you completely underestimated the book’s effect on you too. 

A few minutes after Grogu fell asleep, you felt your own head grow heavy, eyes fluttering shut before you snapped them open, determined to last until your favorite part. 

As Din reached the bit about giant rodents, you gave up, letting your head fall against Din’s shoulder, eyes half open. He stopped, looking over at you. “You okay?” 

“Fucking exhausted. Keep reading.” 

Din chuckled, pushing his glasses up and continuing to read. You slipped deeper and deeper into sleep until the world was no more than a fuzzy haze and Din’s voice was just a mumbling mess. 

You very faintly registered Din stopping reading, then you were moving but didn’t exactly have the energy to care, and then the void of sleep swallowed you up for real. 

When you woke up, it was to the Crest landing. Arvala-7 had shown up faster than you expected. Or maybe you’d slept for too long. Whatever the situation, you jumped up, got dressed, and made it to the cockpit in record time. 

“Good morning,” Din said as you entered the cockpit. “Ready? You know what part you need for my HUD?” 

You nodded, scooping up the damaged piece and rolling it over in your hands. “Yep! A new image processor. Do you want to stay here or wander around Arvada-7 completely blind?” 

“I’ll go with,” Din decided, standing and putting his helmet on. “The battery gives me some semblance of sight. I’ll survive.” 

Shrugging, you shouldered a bag of spare parts and smiled. “Let’s go then.” 

Finding the Jawas was, unfortunately, the easy part. Even Din could see their fortress from half a mile away. When you finally met up with them, the bartering began. You spoke decently good Jawa, and were able to trade for some upgrade parts for the water heater, but they were stubborn about the image processor. It took you almost an hour under the hot desert sun to take the part, and even then, you didn’t want to give that much up for it. But Din needed to see, so you caved. 

Back aboard the Crest, you settled in your spot in the cockpit, helmet in your lap, small tools in your hands. Din sat to your right, messing around with the controls to take the both of you out to Sorgan for a week or two of vacation. 

“And, done!” You said happily, watching the HUD flicker to life inside the helmet. Din looked up. “One perfectly fixed beskar helmet,” you announced, handing Din the helmet. 

He examined the helmet, took his glasses off, and put his helmet on. “It looks good,” he said, taking it off and putting his glasses on again. “Thank you.” 

“You’re not going to wear it?” You asked, putting your tool kit away. “If I did all that work for nothing, I swear I will murder you.” 

“Well I’m not going to wear it around the Crest,” Din said, as if it were obvious. “You’re family now.” 

How words made your heart swell. “So, what?” You said, trying to keep your composure. “Am I like, your spouse now?” 

Din shrugged, setting his helmet on the other copilot’s chair. “If you want.” 

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means,” Din said, turning to face you. “You’ve been staring at me an awful lot.”  

You grinned despite your face growing red, seeing exactly what game Din was playing. “Okay. Fine. I guess we’re married now.” 

Din’s grin matched yours as he gave his glasses a small shove and held his hand out for you to shake. When you did, he turned back to the Crest’s controls. “I guess we’re married now,” he echoed softly. “I should get you a ring, shouldn’t I?” 

“That’s how it usually goes,” you responded, getting up to fix that damned water heater. 

Four years and two kids later, he finally remembered to get you a ring and make it official.

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear.  The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive. 

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it.  “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

--

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store. 

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios. 

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas. 

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

--

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of  her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window. 

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

--

(read part 3 here)

[crying-in-a-stall]

Incorrect Sanders Sides

Virgil: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Roman: >:O language Patton: Yeah watch your fucking language Janus: OKAY WHO TAUGHT PATTON THE FUCK WORD? Roman: 'The fuck word'. Logan: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Roman: Oh my god they censored it Remus: Say fuck, Logan. Virgil: Do it, Logan. Say fuck.

Virgil: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Roman: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Janus: More or less, I guess... Patton: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Remus: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Logan: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Roman: Hewwo. Patton: Hihiiiiii! Logan: Greetings, Humans. Janus: Three kinds of people. Virgil: I want pudding. Janus: Four kinds of people. Remus: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Janus: Five kinds of people.

Logan: Just be yourself. Virgil: 'Be myself'? Logan, I have one day to win Roman over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Patton: Couple weeks. Remus: Six months. Janus: Jury’s still out. Virgil: See, Logan? Virgil: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Virgil: Croissants; dropped Roman: Road; works ahead Remus: BBQ sauce; on my titties Patton: Shavacado; fre Janus: Miss Keisha; fuckin dead Logan: Logan, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Patton: We need to distract these guys Remus: Leave it to me Remus: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Logan, Roman, and Janus: *Immediately begin arguing* Virgil, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

Virgil: Rules are made to be broken. Logan: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Patton: Uh, piñatas. Remus: Glow sticks. Janus: Karate boards. Roman: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Virgil: Rules. Logan: …

Logan: Dumbest scar stories, go! Roman: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Patton: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Remus: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Janus: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Virgil: … Virgil: I have emotional scars.

Logan: Anyone d- Virgil: Depressed? Roman: Drained? Patton: Dumb? Remus: Disliked? Janus: Distrusted? Logan: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people …

Patton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Virgil: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Janus: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Roman: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Remus: My moral code, is that you? Logan: ... Patton: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Janus: Nothing in life is free. Patton: Love is free! Roman: Adventure is free. Logan: Knowledge is free. Virgil and Remus at the same time: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Patton: What does 'take out' mean? Logan: Food. Roman: Dating Virgil: Murder Remus: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Remus: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Janus: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Virgil: I recorded the dumb stuff. Patton: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Logan: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Janus: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Roman: 'Prettiest Smile' Patton: 'Nicest Personality' Remus: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Virgil: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Logan: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Virgil: Have everyone stand. Patton: Bring three more chairs! Janus: The most important ones can sit down. Remus: Kill three.

Logan: Good morning. Patton: Good morning. Roman: Good morning. Thomas: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Virgil: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Patton: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Remus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Janus: Socks are Feetie Heaties Virgil: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Remus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Virgil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Janus: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Logan, annoyed: You are disappointments Roman: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Logan: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Patton: Three of us saw it, Logan. How do you explain that? Logan: *points at Janus* Sleep deprivation. *points at Virgil* Paranoia. *points at Remus* Delusional personality disorder. And you just believe everything, Patton.

Janus: Favorite horror movie? Remus: It Logan: Saw Roman: Annabelle Virgil: High School Musical. After watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Virgil: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Remus: ... Your what? Virgil: My friends. Janus: Are they saying “friends”? Remus: I think they're being sarcastic. Janus: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Virgil! All of your friends are in this room. Virgil: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Patton, trying to convince Virgil to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Roman: And grumpy! Logan: And oblivious to reality! Virgil: …

Roman: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Virgil: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Roman: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PATTON WITH ME Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

*Patton is cooking* Roman: Any chance that’s for me? Patton: It’s for Logan. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side. Virgil: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Patton: Hey, is Roman sleeping or dead? Virgil: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Logan: Yeah, so did I. Roman: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Virgil: Is stabbing someone immoral? Janus: Not if they consent to it. Remus: Depends who you’re stabbing. Logan, who was dragged into the dark sides meeting: YES?!?

Janus: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Patton: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Logan: Self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. Janus: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Virgil: Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Roman: Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Remus: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Patton: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Roman: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of Nachos. Logan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Virgil: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any Nachos? Patton: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Roman, banging on the door: Virgil! Open up! Virgil: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Logan: No, they meant- Patton: Let them finish.

Janus: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Virgil: You were flirting with Remus. Janus: So what? They're my partner. Remus: You asked me if I was single. Virgil: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Store Worker: Would a ‘Janus’ please come to the front desk? Janus, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Remus and Virgil Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Remus and Virgil, simultaneously: We got lost :( Janus: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Janus, driving Remus and Virgil: So how was your day? Remus: We almost got surprise adopted! Janus: What? Virgil: We almost got kidnapped. Janus: Oh, okay. Janus: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Janus: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Remus: The cow??? Janus: What? Virgil: Remus, W H Y?

Roman: Virgil, my old arch enemy. Remus: ... I thought I was your arch enemy? Roman: I have a life outside of you, Remus.

Remus: How's the sexiest person here~? Janus: I don't know, how are they~? Remus, flustered: I- Virgil, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Patton: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Virgil: I'm a knife. Roman, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Roman: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Logan does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Patton: If Logan were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Logan jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Roman: You jump off a cliff! Patton: Gladly. Provided Logan did first.

Janus: I know you snuck out last night, Remus. Virgil: Play dumb! Remus: Who's Remus? Virgil: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

Roman: Fitness tip, never stop pushing yourself. Logan: Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Virgil: Why not 9? Why not 10? ]Janus: Strive for greatness. Roman: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Patton, from the background: Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Remus from the background: Burn your ex’s house down. Roman: You can do it. I believe in you. Thomas: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Remus: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place. Virgil: You people already know too much about me. Janus: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Virgil: Janus, can I talk to you for a second? Janus: Yeah, what’s up? Remus: Lemme guess. You and Roman are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Virgil: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Remus: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Janus: Wasn't Virgil with you? Virgil: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Remus: Okay, help me please! Virgil: Got two words for you. Janus: I bet they won't be helpful. Virgil: Your problem. Janus: I was right

Virgil: So are we flirting right now? Roman: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Virgil: That doesn’t answer my question

Patton: Where are you going? Remus: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there Patton: Can you get me a strawberry cone? Janus: Can you kill Virgil? Virgil: Can you kill Roman? Roman: Can you kill Janus? Logan: Can you not commit a felony?

Logan: It’s dark in here Patton: Don’t worry fam, I got this Patton: *Stomps their feet* Patton: *Sketchers light up*

Logan: So what do you do? Janus: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Logan: Wow, impressive. Janus: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Remus: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Roman: I think you mean cards. Remus, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Virgil: We went through an entire character arc during quarantine Janus: We all became more evil if you’re curious Patton: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Remus: I’m going to get worse on purpose

Patton: Am I in trouble? Logan: Take a guess. Patton: No? Logan: Take another guess.

Patton: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Roman: *holding in a laugh* Logan: Patton, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Virgil: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Virgil: You kill people for money?! Virgil: Can I pay you? Janus: Virgil no- Remus: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Roman: What are your goals? Thomas as Patton: To pet all the dogs. Logan: No, fitness goals. Thomas as Patton: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Patton: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Virgil: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Virgil: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my paranoia. I'll wait. Patton’s Card: FAM - ILY Virgil, tearing up: Okay.

Logan: I actually have a black belt. Roman: In what, karate? Logan: No, from Gucci.

Remus: Am I going too far? Janus: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Patton, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo. Logan: Babe, I’m right here.

Remus: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

Virgil: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. Roman, from across the room: You tell ‘em, babe!

Roman: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?' Remus: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

[cakejots]

this is us trying, Chapter 6 - The Pounce

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts. this chapter has 4 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

17. Secrets

Marinette was sure she didn’t have any alarm set for the day. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be this early in the morning. Her video call with Adrien the night before lasted well over a few hours, and it was the second day in a row where she wasn’t sleeping her usual routine. Though tired, she really can’t find herself regretting her actions. She was sure Adrien felt the same, he didn’t want the video call to end so soon and always managed to find something new to chat about.

She thought she could ignore the constant buzzing of her phone, but she’s only clowning herself if she believes that. Marinette tried to use her pillow to cover her head to block out the noise, but to no avail. She tried again with her thick blanket but eventually gave up. She was too disturbed to go back to sleep now anyway. With a grunt, she lifted herself off of her comfy bed and grabbed her phone from the shelves above her.

She eyed the screen and saw the time, as well as the caller.

Alya.

“What?”

“Woah, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Care to check how many times you’ve called me?” Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know I hate it when my sleep gets interrupted.”

“I’m really sorry Marinette, but this can’t be put off any longer. Why didn’t you tell me? Are there any more secrets you’re hiding from me?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Her phone gave off a chime, and it was a link Alya had just shared. “Access that link.”

Marinette grew wary as she saw the first few words of the link. The name of the biggest gossip magazine was etched within it.

“Uhh, Alya, what’s this? You know I hate reading things from gossip magazines.” She’s pissed that she was woken up for this useless bullshit.

“I know I know, just click it please, it concerns you.” Alya pleaded.

Marinette paused. “Me?”

Her mind imagined the worst-case scenario. Was her secret identity compromised? She didn’t manage to read the rest of the link as she quickly clicked on the link.

The first thing she saw when the site loaded was a video embedded at the top of the page, and the thumbnail of the video was of her and Adrien throwing affectionate gazes at each other, with Adrien’s hand buried deep within her hair. Fear shot through her entire being. When was this?

She further inspected the thumbnail and saw that she was in pyjamas. It was the night they revealed themselves, they had just exited the park and were ready to head home.

“Oh.”

Fuck.

“Marinette? Did you manage to read the article?”

She couldn’t take it anymore, she hastily closed the tab. “No, but I see myself and Adrien on the video thumbnail. Shit...” She admitted, not bothering to hide since Alya already saw it.

“Are you okay?”

“What did the article say?” She whispered.

“They were speculating if you’re Adrien’s new fling— ”

“The fuck?”

“—or romantic partner, but they don’t know who you are, so you’re safe.”

“But he’s not! I need to make sure he’s okay.” She was jumping out of her bed when Alya’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Marinette, I think that might be a problem. Herds of reporters are situated outside the Agreste mansion.”

She felt a vein pop in her temple. “Are you there?”

“What? No! The clip is rolling live on TV.”

She switched on her TV and sure enough, the mansion was surrounded by reporters.

“Adrien...” Blood drained from her face as she looked at the sheer number of reporters outside his house. Her vision started to blur. He was no doubt going to blame himself for this again.

“Marinette?”

“A-Alya, I’m sorry, I need some time alone. T-Thank you for telling me,” she stammered.

“Don’t sweat it. And I’m sure you have reasons for keeping your secrets, I won’t pester you now, but I hope to get an update on the both of you once this is over. And please promise me you’ll tell me about it later.”

Comfort flooded her chest, “Of course, Alya. Thank you so much.”

Marinette hung up and was left alone with her own thoughts.

Thinking back, Adrien was acting slightly weird after they got onto the streets. He had asked her to transform out of nowhere. Was that when he had realised they were being followed? Why didn’t he tell her? Marinette browsed her messages and calls, there was nothing she missed from Adrien.

Why was he pushing her away again? Even after the reveal. Why isn’t he opening up to her?

She wiped her tears. This is no time to be questioning his decisions. She needed to save her kitty as soon as possible. He must be feeling devastated dealing with this all alone.

18. Can’t Transform

Adrien was curled up by the side of his bed, his phone all blown up with notifications, calls, and messages from gossip news agencies and the public. It was till the point that he had to reconfigure his “Do Not Disturb” function to stop all the ringing and buzzing that wrecked his phone. He was so overwhelmed that he disabled everything.

His phone was currently by his side, his chat with Marinette on the display. Marinette was online earlier on, and he was happy to see that, but she was gone as soon as she came. Adrien really wanted to ask her for help, but he was sure that she’s pissed with him right now. He didn’t have the right to ask since he brought this upon himself. He just hoped she forgave him for allowing her face to appear on the news.

Marinette (09:01): chaton?

A chime brought his attention back to the phone. Adrien saw her message, but he just stared.

Marinette (09:01): chaton i can see you online

Adrien (09:02): hi

Marinette (09:02): can you call me?

Marinette (09:02): my calls can't seem to get through

Adrien (09:03): i muted everything

Marinette (09:03): oh

Marinette (09:03): then can chat call me?

Adrien (09:03): i can't transform

Adrien (09:04): i don't want to risk them seeing the transformation

Marinette saw that he typed and stopped a few times. She’d be patient with him, he’s allowed to take as long as he needed.

Adrien (09:06): i'll call

Adrien (09:06): but can you give me a while?

Marinette (09:06): of course :)

Perhaps it was her staring at her screen, knowing that Adrien was there. Perhaps she was solely focused on seeing something happen on her screen. Or perhaps she managed to will Adrien into calling her, because he eventually did. And it didn’t feel like it had been 10 minutes.

“Adrien!”

The line had gone quiet. So quiet that she was about to remove her phone from her ear to check if the call had ended when a voice spoke through the speakers.

“Hey, Marinette.”

He sounded apprehensive. Was she coming off too strong?

“How are you feeling?” Her voice gentler this time.

He still took a while, but it was definitely faster than the one before.

“Overwhelmed.”

“Okay, okay. Are you okay with waiting a while more?”

Is Marinette coming to get him?

“I guess.”

“Nice. Do you think you can transform after the herd of reporters is gone?”

“I think so.”

“Very good. Would you be comfortable with sleeping in my house for a few days?”

Adrien wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay with Marinette after all this was over. What if she interrogated him? Was he ready to tell her why he did what he did? The whole truth? What if she leaves? Or rather, kick him out after she learnt the truth. He didn’t want that. Enough people had already left him. He doesn’t want any more of that. They can’t leave if he wasn’t there in the first place.

But Adrien wanted to be with Marinette. Even more so after what his actions had led to. He may be selfish right now, but he wanted the affirmation that she’d still have him, even after he messed up. He didn’t want to be alone after this ordeal. She has proved repeatedly that she wouldn’t abandon him. And right now, she’s inviting him into her life, willingly.

Justifiably, Marinette is in no wrong here, but Adrien found himself finally believing what she had promised. It might be that words of assurance could only go so far for him. But certainly, it was her actions that solidified his belief in her.

“Mhm.” He sniffled.

“Awesome!”

Adrien wanted to explain. He wanted her to know how much this meant to him.

“My lady, I… I—”

“It’s okay, Chaton. Your safety and wellbeing take precedence.”

“W-Wait! Are you going to hang up?”

19. Trust

“Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he answered so effortlessly.

“Then yes, I’m going to hang up. But I guarantee you that you’ll see me soon enough,” Marinette assured. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Thank you, Chaton. Wait for me.”

They said their goodbyes, and Marinette waited for a while before she hung up. She got to her feet and went to work straight away.

.

“What is he doing in there? Can’t he see us? Just come out already!” One of the reporters threw his papers on the ground, getting agitated from standing outside the Agreste mansion for at least 2 hours. “This is taking far too long!”

“Hey! Look!”

He noticed someone pointing upwards and he lifted his eyes.

Soon, the herd of reporters directed their collective attention and cameras to the top of the mansion. They were so determined on getting any footage they could on the occupant of the building that all but one of them failed to realise that Ladybug and Chat Noir had appeared on the rooftop, with Chat Noir piggybacking their target.

“What is this?” Ladybug shouted at the crowd beneath her feet. “Is this any way to treat Paris’ Golden Boy? His love life is none of your concern!”

And with that, she jumped away from the persistent sound of cameras clicking coming from the crowd. Chat Noir followed without missing a bit, with Adrien hugging him tightly.

When Ladybug and Chat Noir had disappeared out of their sight, the media quickly got onto their vans and chased them down.

As the commotion was happening, Marinette texted Adrien to ask for the directions to access his room.

Adrien (09:32): the windows to my room are open. you'll see it once you get to the back of the mansion

She made sure the crowd had dissipated entirely before emerging from her hiding spot from the surrounding rooftops; she then made her way towards the mansion.

Sure enough, she found herself swinging into his room within seconds.

Adrien’s room was one of the biggest rooms she has ever seen in her life when she landed. It was at least twice the size of her previous bedroom, so big and spacious with various game areas across the first floor and a large library of books and CDs on the second.

She was still admiring his expansive room when she heard tiny sniffles coming from the side of the bed.

Snapping her head towards the bed, she spotted Adrien hugging his knees, head buried within his arms. “Adrien.”

Adrien lifted his head and saw her watching him.

He stood and wiped his tears, trying to smile. Turned out, wishing she was by his side was one thing. Having her actually be here with him was an entirely different thing.

Lady Rouge? Rena Bug? Marinette did not look happy. She was biting her lower lips before she started walking towards him.

Adrien began moving backwards bit by bit, anxious about her reactions towards him.

“Tikki, Trixx, Separation.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes? He didn’t know. Ladybug was quickly catching up to him and when he saw that she had raised her hand, he shut his eyes.

He was expecting some reproaching from her. He was expecting some pounding on his chest, or even a slap to his face. But all he felt was a hand wrapped around his head, settling itself within his hair and pulling him into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she breathed.

Adrien opened his eyes in startlement, before relaxing into her. Ladybug’s other hand was on his back, pressing him into her. And he circled his arms around her waist, returning the gesture.

“My lady, I’m covered in snot and tears right now.”

“Yeah, you’re disgusting.” But she pulled him in even more and tightened her hold on him nonetheless.

20. Save Me

Adrien wished he could’ve stayed in Ladybug’s embrace longer, she was so full of warmth and love, unlike the mansion. But he needed to pack his clothes for his impromptu stay at Marinette’s over the next few days, to avoid the scandal they were currently in.

Ladybug was exploring his huge room, but he couldn’t see her from the bathroom, so he assumed she was checking out his vast collection of books and CDs on the second floor.

He didn’t like how quiet it had gotten.

“My lady?”

Within seconds, Ladybug dropped from right in front of the bathroom door, face worried. “Adrien?”

“Could you… um, could you stay on the first floor?” He squeaked.

She relaxed and chuckled. “Of course, mon Chaton.” She looked around a bit. “I’ll just take a look around the arcade stations.”

He nodded before continuing his packing. It was quiet again, but at least he knew she was exploring on the first floor.

“Adrien?” He lifted his gaze from his bag and saw Ladybug standing beside his bed, pointing at it. “Can I sit on it?”

“Of course! Go ahead! I don’t see why not.” Surprise laced in his voice by her question.

“Just wanted to make sure,” she replied cheekily before she bounced on his bed.

Adrien was about done with his packing, but he didn’t want Ladybug to be bored.

“My lady, what happened to those illusions?”

Ladybug widened her eyes. “I was sure that the media would follow those illusions, so I had them travel to the outskirts of Paris before making them disappear right before their very eyes.” She then scratched the back of her head and smiled sheepishly. “That was the plan. But uh, the illusions should be gone as soon as I reverted to just being Ladybug.”

Adrien had finished packing and was walking out of the bathroom, bag in his hand. “So, they might be back?”

Ladybug immediately stood and walked to his windows. “I don’t see or hear any crowd outside. So I guess they are still trying to figure out where those illusions went.”

Adrien came up to her, Trixx and Plagg in his hands. “Then, for extra precaution, why not use Trixx’s power again to conceal ourselves?”

Ladybug’s eyes shone with understanding. “That’s a great idea! I didn’t think of that!”

When Ladybug called for her unification, her outfit was similar to Rena Rouge’s. Her dark hair was tied up in a thick ponytail with the ends highlighted in white. A tail was also added to her suit. “Come on, let’s go!”

But Adrien hadn't called for his transformation, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Uhh— right!” Adrien blushed and quickly turned around to retrieve his bag from the side of his bed before calling for his transformation.

“Oh, I see,” a smug look on her pretty face. “You just wanted to see me in this.”

Chat Noir was still blushing when he returned to her side. “Can you blame me? You look amazing in this. Can’t I admire how stunning my girlfriend looks?”

It was her turn to flush. “You can, you absolutely can.” She turned away, ready to use her flute when Chat Noir grabbed her hand.

“In fact, you look beautiful all the time.” He gazed into her eyes. “Marinette, for the plan you concocted to save me, thank you.”

“Anything for you, Chaton.” She grinned.

Chat pulled her into a hug and squeezed. His hand was on the back of her head, pressing her into his neck. “Thank you, so so much.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

You seem to be really amazing at executing planned changes with food and exercise (and also generally better psychological habits) - can i ask for advice on this? I’ve finished up studying for now and realise my body has turned into a twisted up, pudgy, weakened wreck! Exercise hurts and sugar/processed food feels so cosy and I can’t seem to get through this part where i have to feel discomfort for a while before i feel better!

What works for you? Should i read that atomic habits book you mention? I saw another one recommended - the Kindness Habit - do you know anything about it?

(I tried journaling btw - but it didn’t get me anywhere)

hello!! i can share some things that have worked for me when it comes to implementing longer-term changes in diet and exercise. these seem really simple but i think that actually making big lifestyle changes is much less about summoning up colossal amounts of willpower and much more about making small but important tweaks to the way you think about/approach diet and exercise. here are five things that have been helpful to me.

(1) don’t think of diet changes in terms of restrictions (i.e., “what delicious cozy sugary things do i have to deprive myself of today to be Good”). instead, approach diet changes as a fun little game of adding in as many good things as possible (fruits, veggies, leafy green things, nuts of all kinds, whole grains, beans, etc.). every single time you are preparing a meal or looking for a snack, describe it to yourself as a chance to be creative and resourceful, as you think about fun ways to add in small good things every time you eat. especially in the early weeks, don’t restrict foods from your diet at all. focus solely on finding a creative way to add in something healthy and delicious every time you eat. (i really liked using the daily dozen checklist when i was starting out—they have an app and it’s very satisfying and fun to see how many things you can check off the list each day.)

(2) narrate this “adding-in” game aloud to yourself. for example: “oh—what if i eat a big handful of berries on top of that ice cream?”, or “i’m hungry—ooh, there are carrots in the fridge, aren’t there? i’ll eat three carrots with hummus before i switch over to pita chips”). and every time you figure out a creative way to add in a good food, stop and observe yourself doing it, and let yourself feel a little spark of delight at how clever and creative you’re being. this sounds silly, but i swear it works! part of changing your habits is changing self-talk & especially changing the kind of running narrative you have in your head about who you are and what you do. you can change that narrative in part by repeatedly reframing the way you tell it to yourself, ideally aloud (or aloud in your head) to help you can better “hear” and internalize the new story. instead of “ugh... i ate ice cream again. why don’t i have any self-control? why am i someone who just eats like crap?”, you’re offering your brain an alternate story, one that focuses less on things you perceive yourself as lacking, or on things you ‘failed’ to do, and more on the creative, positive things you did do (“i wasn’t going to eat any fruit today, but wasn’t it great that i remembered we had those frozen berries in the fridge? that’s pretty creative and resourceful of me, and plus it’s a good way to use up something i’d forgotten i even had”).

the “noticing and feeling delighted” part is just as important. to successfully change a habit, you need to find creative ways to make the new habit pleasurable in and of itself. the more pleasure you feel when you do it, the more self-reinforcing the habit itself becomes. you might not experience eating healthy foods as intensely pleasurable (at least at first, especially if you are comparing them with the intense brain-hacking pleasure that super sugary foods give us). so don’t try! instead, focus on making the choice a source of pleasure and delight. "look at how clever i was! look at how creative i can be! look at what a good choice i made! look at how good i am at this game of adding in!” that act of stopping, narrating, and letting yourself feel genuinely pleased with what you’ve just done makes the choice to add something in pleasurable, which in turn can help fuel your sense that this isn’t about having iron willpower or about cruelly depriving yourself of delicious things, but is about playing a fun little game with yourself, creating little challenges or puzzles for yourself throughout the day and then giving yourself positive reinforcement when you figure them out.

(3) manage your environment to set yourself up for success. to paraphrase the atomic habits book: the people who seem to have the best willpower are the people who have to exercise it the least. and they have to exercise it the least because they’ve very effectively managed their environment, arranging things so that the desired choices are easy and “frictionless,” while the undesired choices or habits are more inconvenient or introduce more friction (it’s harder to get to them).

the easy starter version of this (from atomic habits): put the things you want to eat in highly visible places and/or in appealing arrangements, and put the things you don't want to eat in places that aren't visible or that are inconvenient to access. ice cream goes in the very back of the fridge, buried behind all the other stuff. nuts go in a bowl on your desk so that you can idly snack on them while you work. apples and bananas go in a big brightly colored bowl right on the counter, so that every time you pass through the kitchen your eyes are drawn to them. chips go in the bottom cupboard, the one below eye level that you don't use very often, and when you get them out you pour some into a bowl and put them right back in there (instead of leaving the bag out on the counter). make the choice you want to make easy, and make the choice you don't want to make harder to get to.

eventually, the most effective way of managing your environment is just to exercise total control over what comes into your own living space. for me, if i don’t want to eat it, i don’t have it in the house. i typically also place a curbside delivery grocery order so that i don’t have to go into the store—anything that comes into my house is something i made a deliberate choice about ordering, not something i wandered by a shelf and added to my cart because i wanted a treat. something i’ve learned about myself over the years that moderation is just not in my vocabulary—i’m an all-or-nothing person, and it’s SO much easier for me to just not have stuff i don’t want to eat in the house. no ice cream in the house. no alcohol in the house. no fried things, no chips, no candy, etc etc. if someone kindly brings me baked goods that i did not ask for, i genuinely appreciate the gesture, but as soon as they leave i give them to my next door neighbor or dump them in the trash. (SORRY TO PEOPLE WHO BAKE FOR ME!) if it's in the house i'll eat it. if it's not, i won't, and i also won't miss it.

i did do this pretty gradually at first, though! when i switched to a primarily whole food plant-based diet, i focused on playing the adding-in game for a couple weeks, and then when i started getting competitive about it i decided to use my grocery order as a way of creatively boosting my fruit/veggie/etc consumption even more, and in the process i started winnowing out things that took away chances to add in a good thing. i would say it took about three or four weeks to get to my personal ideal state of Nope I Don't Have It In The House.

it takes time, but i’d say that within a month of having only things you want to eat in the house, your cravings will be gone, at least within your own managed environment (going to restaurants or traveling DOES require you to exercise willpower, but there are ways to prepare for this in advance). the good news, though, is that 6-8 months or so of eating like this usually brings with it such improved sleep, mood, energy levels, skin, hair, GI function, etc etc that you start to be like oh my GOD why would i want to eat that horrifying thing?? I KNOW HOW BAD IT MAKES ME FEEL!! I WANT TO POWER MY BODY WITH PLANTS!!!!! in other words, the pleasurable side effects of eating well becomes positively reinforcing in its own right, while the negative effects you experience when you reintroduce sugar or fried things tends to reinforce the idea that those foods Feel Bad.

(4) it's not exercise, it's movement. i too used to hate exercise and found it extremely painful and tedious and horrible. so instead of exercising i just started moving. i canceled my membership at the local dog bar, where i had been taking my dog almost every day to let him run off excess energy, and started talking short walks with him twice a day instead. if you don’t have a dog, offer to walk your friends’ dogs—trust me they will lose their MINDS with joy lol. i think that starting to build in regular walks is the best way to get active again, because walking is typically quite pleasant and it becomes positively reinforcing to like, wave at the same neighbors every day, and see the cute kids next door running around, and notice all the ways that the trees and flowers are changing, and so on.

if you do not find being outside inherently pleasurable (sometimes i do not lol esp if i’m grumpy about having to walk the dog), tie another pleasurable activity to your daily walk. i listen to about six hours’ worth of hockey podcasts a week and i am only allowed to listen to them on my walks, so i end up looking forward to the walk because i’m desperate to hear people talk about My Guys. you can also walk with friends, or call a friend while you’re walking, which is even better than podcasts!! social walks are so much fun and go by so much more quickly. i started out just doing daily 15 min walks, and over the past couple years have built up to walking between 60-90 min a day when i’m at home. sometimes i hate/dread my walk; sometimes i love it and look forward to it. but regardless of how i’m feeling, i do it every day and if i miss it once, i don’t miss it a second time. 

as far as activity goes, i think it’s totally ok to just be a person who walks a lot! but i’ve found that becoming someone who walked a lot helped change my own narrative of myself—I started to think of myself as a walker, an active person who moved a lot every day. and that made it easier to pick up other forms of activity too, or at least to adopt a curious, exploratory attitude towards other forms of movement. also once you start tracking your active minutes you tend to get quite competitive about it! or at least i do, lol. i keep a note on my phone where i write down the date + type of activity + total number of minutes I did after every burst of activity, then at the end of the week i add it all up and compare it to the previous weeks. it makes me want to do more, to beat my own numbers—or it makes me want to keep up a streak (like, if i have a five-week period where i’ve consistently hit a certain level of active minutes every week, i don’t want to break it!!).

my biggest suggestion for exercise, though, is to figure out what kinds of things you enjoy and what kinds of things you don’t, and then to spend all your time doing things you like. i HATE structured fitness classes and workout videos. i hate them so much!!!!!!!! but i love being outside, i love doing solo activities (as opposed to group workouts), and i love doing any form of movement that doesn’t feel like a Planned Workout, capital w. also becoming a hockey fan got me really interested in skating, so i picked up rollerblades and found that to be amazingly fun too (something i can do outside AND something that feels like gliding around effortlessly AND something that makes me feel closer to My Favorite Guys!!!!). you may not have passionate feelings about hockey fandom as i do, but i think it’s really just about being creative—finding a creative way to link something you don’t love to something you do love, or find pleasurable, so that you can start forging those positive associations. 

i spent my first couple years of being more active just walking walking walking, and then this past year during the pandemic when i really ramped up my movement i added in longer walks, hikes, and rollerblading, and i also looked for ways to “habit-stack,” ie attaching an activity i don’t much care for (running; exercise biking indoors; doing squats and lunges) to one i do enjoy (i take my tennis shoes when i go skating and then go for a run immediately afterwards, before i have time to talk myself out of it). there are still all kinds of things i don’t do—i really don’t love strength training + bodyweight exercises yet, and i hate stretching even though I Know I Should, and i know that if i want to get stronger and faster, or build up my endurance, i will eventually need to introduce some element of structured training into my daily movement.

BUT the idea of making those changes seems kind of cool to me now, instead of Horrifying and Dread-Inducing! i feel like all the positive associations i’ve forged have made me more curious and open to ideas i would’ve resisted with my whole being not all that long ago. i found a way to make movement pleasurable, and then (thanks to sports fandom + my tendency to go down research rabbitholes) i found a way to get myself intellectually and emotionally engaged in the general concept of being a highly active person. for me, that combination of real pleasure + intellectual/emotional stimulation is what i personally need to build & maintain good habits.

(also, just shoehorning this in at the end because i like it: the “it’s movement, not exercise” mindset shift was also really helpful to me because it stopped me from thinking of exercise as like, this highly structured, regimented, torturous thing you forced yourself through for a set period of time each day, and helped me instead think of movement as something that humans are designed to do & to naturally enjoy. instead of Forcing Myself to Exercise, i looked for more natural-feeling forms of movement that didn’t feel so artificially divided from my “real life.” i think that helped with reframing my self-narrative, too! it made being active feel more integrated into my daily life, which in turn made it easier to think of myself as an active person, someone for whom movement was just a normal part of daily life and not a thing i had to psych myself up to do every day.)

(5) it takes time to build good habits, but not nearly as much time as you might think, and eventually you stop thinking about how long you’ve been doing something and you just start enjoying it (ie it becomes a genuine change in your lifestyle/thinking, not an artificial thing you have to work hard every day to maintain).

i am not yet AN ATHLETE and may never be, but i often remind myself that it took me a little under 30 years to build up a PROFOUND aversion to exercise, so it’s actually kind of miraculous that in just two years i’ve become someone who genuinely, earnestly, enthusiastically enjoys being active and feels antsy/weird/restless when i can’t get out of the house and move. every small stride i’ve made has strengthened my trust in myself and helped me reframe the narrative i tell myself about what kind of person i am and what i do/don’t do. every time i do the thing (whether it’s exercising or making a delicious healthy dinner) & happily notice myself doing it, i reaffirm to myself that i’m the kind of person who takes care of my body and mind by eating well and spending lots of time moving outside. (as a side benefit, when i spend a lot of time happily noticing things and speaking encouragingly to myself, i also reaffirm to myself that i am a happy person who treats myself kindly and who is always eagerly seeking out experiences that feel joyful and life-affirming.)

plus, the more often you do something, the more opportunities you have to have positive experiences while doing it! not every walk is AMAZING, LIFE-CHANGING, DEEPLY FULFILLING, but like, if i am walking seven days a week, that’s seven opportunities for something cool or fun to happen on a walk (not to mention seven opportunities to reap all the physiological & emotional well-being benefits of exercise!!). and if i am really conscious and intentional about noticing and actively delighting in those positive experiences, i help wire in those positive associations more deeply, and my brain/body increasingly comes to associate movement with happiness, joy, and fulfillment. as the habit of being more active becomes fulfilling in and of itself, i don’t have to expend as much energy tricking or cajoling or bribing myself into doing it.

*

i hope this helps!! i am literally always happy to write extremely long essays in respond to simple anon questions, lol, so if you want to talk more about your own ideas for building better habits please do share!! i can also rec you specific books that i’ve found really useful—both for just like, helping me figure out how to make big changes, and also for providing that intellectual stimulation that gets me more engaged in wanting to eat well & be more active.

(also, on the extremely slim chance that you are also a hockey fan: over in my fandom sphere, we are organizing a fun summer thing inspired by one of our fave hockey players, where we’ll be planning lots of fun fannish community things to get ourselves moving this summer. it’s going to be a good time!!)

[ggkobold]

Character Headcanons as Things I Do or Have Issues With

(Follow @prancingprongs on TikTok)

While most of my headcanons are based off of aspects of myself, these in particular were apart of my series posted on tiktok.

Regulus Black

When Regulus is a bit unfocused or has nothing to focus on he picks at his nails. He picks the ends off more and more because they’re uneven and then can’t function because either he’s picked too far and hurt himself, or (more commonly) just can’t stand the feeling of the very tip of his fingers actually coming into contact with surfaces. His long nails from before would prevent that contact.

If he’s not 100% focused he will forget to stay the beginning or end of his sentence out loud. He will either trail off without finishing, or start halfway through his sentence

Regulus has a sugar addiction, but he hides it in lots of different foods. His tea has a normal amount of sugar, his pancakes have a regular amount of syrup, he has a regular amount of sweets each day, and a small desert with every meal. But added together, its a TON of sugar every day.

Sirius Black

Sirius walks a little bit diagonally, he doesn’t even mean to he just starts walking on the left side of the hallway and ends up on the right, or when walking next to someone ends up bumping into their side a bunch because he just walks on a diagonal while they’re walking straight and their paths cross at some point.

He forgets to eat. His stomach has hungry windows and if he waits too long he’s not hungry anymore. But he is always doing something and is always too busy to actually sit and eat and so puts it off till he’s done whatever he’s doing but by the time he is done he’s not hungry anymore and ends up going without food for long periods of times (mostly till Peter or James reminds him to eat).

He imitates people’s accents without realizing he’s doing it. Sometimes while talking he will slowly slip into an accent that isn’t his and it’s hard to notice he’s done it until it’s really strong. When someone with an accent different than his speaks to him he will reply with their accent and people often think he’s making fun of them but he just doesn’t know he’s doing it.

Lily Evans

Lily got greasy hair really fast. I imagine her with thick hair that needs to be washed often because it produces a ton of oils. Daily showers!

Lily falls asleep everywhere, no matter how awake she is if she lays on something soft she is OUT.

Lily gets headaches almost daily but it’s never enough to make her think she should tell anyone, until it is but she still doesn’t for fear someone will ask her when it started and she will have to admit she doesn’t know.

Peter Pettigrew

He procrastinates for hours and hours and Physically Cannot do homework for days on end (always hands things in late) except for those days where he is so fucking productive it’s unreal. Everything he hasn’t handed in and gotten in trouble for is done TO PERFECTION and in no time at all pLus the homework he has then and it baffles the teachers but they recognize this pattern and usually don’t give too harsh of punishments when he doesn’t hand something in, knowing it’ll be coming soon and that he just needs a bit more time.

He is constantly rearranging things. Photo frames, books, furniture he just gets bored of it’s position very quickly and so moves things around a lot.

He can’t stop touching his face!!! When he zones out or is thinking really hard or doing anything really he’s always touching his face and has horrible acne because of it.

Remus Lupin

Remus doesn’t pay attention to a lot of things, or rather is trying very hard to multitask all the time and so very often jumbles his words and it takes him a bit to realize he just said “in couch the Padtea’s foot hands on” rather than “tea’s in Padfoots hands on the couch” when James asks.

He also ends up doing that thing where he switches the sounds of words and for some reason his mouth won’t fix it like “the chirds are burpin… the chirds are burpin no the chirds are burpin oh my god”(the birds are chirping)

King of stubbing his toes and walking into things. He can’t turn fast enough to avoid corners of walls or tables and ends of hitting his knees toes and hips on things all the time.

James Potter

James is an early bird. He cannot for the life of him stay up past 11 and if somehow he does, he will be up and awake at 6:30 regardless of how much sleep he got.  He could and would sleep for 24 hours a day (wouldn’t enjoy missing a whole day tho). He says he stayed up late so much before coming to hogwarts that his body is making up for lost sleep.

James can’t bake or cook. loves the idea of baking and cooking and will 100% find recipes and begin but 5 minutes in he is distracted and doing something else he just can’t do it.

James will cry if something sticky touches him. He can deal with every foul smelling squishy gross thing on the planet but as soon as something is sticky he freaks out.

Dorcas Meadowes

Dorcas doesn’t like the feeling of grass. I think it just feels icky. especially wet grass because her feet get wet but not soaked and so from the time it takes to take another step her foot mostly dries off but not fully and so when her foot touched the grass again it gets wet again and it’s just a vicious cycle of wet, half wet, wet and she hates it.

Dorcas gets really loud when she’s excited, like obnoxiously loud

Her hands get really smooth when they’re cold.

Mary Macdonald

Mary sits everywhere. I think she could be anywhere at all and just sit down cross legged on the floor. Waiting in lines, at a party, on the sidewalk, anywhere.

Mary sing/narrates everything she does. Instead of speaking aloud to herself as she does tasks, she sings it.

Mary likes to be squished, she hugs everyone all the time mostly just so they hug her back, and when she lays on couches she piles the cushions onto her, and she likes to sleep in the cold so she can have like 8 thick blankets piled on her, nice and heavy.

Marlene McKinnon

Marlene’s muscles twitch. I think she doesn’t know why they do that but like she will be laying in bed and her lower back will start twitching, or her eyelid, or her upper arm or thigh. It lasts basically until she’s got someone’s attention and they turn to see, then it goes away (of course).

Marlene obsessively makes lists, its like her favourite thing to do. Not for anxiety reasons, just for fun.

There’s a lot of foods she doesn’t like because she’s a picky eater but she really wants to like a lot of those foods. Things like cheeses and berries she doesn’t like but she thinks they’re really fun to eat so it makes her really sad that she doesn’t like them.

[iamdorka]

“Colson has grown a little stubble beard & has to shave it. His girl wakes up alone in bed, finds him in the bathroom about to shave it. Something she’s not happy about because she really likes and enjoys it…” a request by @being-worthy​ <3

 To say that it was strange that she woke up alone it was an understatement like they could not been more different with her boyfriend. She was a real morning person, she never had a problem with waking up early when it was needed, not that she could sleep past 8am (except the times when they got in the bed around 8am because then she did not really wanted to leave that sacred place), after her 7-8 hours of sleeping she was being able to function like a proper human being but this she could never say about Colson, sometimes she really thought that he was a vampire, because his sleeping schedule was something that a human could not really comprehend. That’s why it was strange that one day, on a normal Sunday (not that it was any day normal in their shared household) when she knew that her boyfriend’s only thing for the day was laying next to her, loving her in every possible, imaginable way she woke up alone around 7pm. She definitely remembered that when she got in there she was not alone because even she could do pretty fun things alone too… the company of his boy was and is way more different.

“You know there should be a law against the people who leave their girlfriend alone in the bed on a Sunday morning…” – she heard that somebody was in the bathroom and as it was their shared bathroom it only could be him, so she got out of the bed dragging herself as a lifeless doll to see what was her boyfriend up to. “How are you even wak… “ she wanted to ask him this, then she opened the door and there he was… with a razor in his hand, foam on his face.

Just as a lightning in her body, now she was 100% up because what she was witnessing scared her so much that her adrenaline was up to the sky.

He was about to shave his stubble beard he got in the last couple off days, the beard that she got addicted to so easily because she always had a thing or two for bearded guys. So when that appeared on Colson’s face she literally felt in heaven, like God himself handed her a present. It was an easy step in the “how could my boyfriend look more handsome to me” starter pack.

“Don’t you dare move… not an inch, not a centimeter… “ she stopped not far from him, with her index finger in the air, threatening him seriously. He knew that she was serios.

“But babe… I have to… “ he stopped his actions, just like a frozen version of himself, he stood there in front of her.

“There is not such a thing that iHaVeTo.. “ oh yeah, she was a drama queen, especially when somebody tried to take away her favorite things from her.

“But… there is… “ just saying this out loud, he saw the shocking reaction on her face, like she was about to faint. “Jordan is coming to do a photos…. “ she did not let him finish it, he was kinda prepared for that, she knew her girl quite well.

“Do you think I care about that? Hmmm? Nope. You will not get rid off from that beauty… or…. “ she got closer and closer to him.

“Or what?” she was now right next to him, dangerously close to his body. he just could not help himself, the mischievous smile appeared on his face without even trying, it was in his blood.

“You don’t take me serious boy… I see it.” she stated looking at that cocky face of his. “You think everything is just a game.”

“Ohh holly fuck… it’s just a beard…to be honest it’snot even a proper beard.” he said that but he knew that it was just oil on that heavily burning fire. She was not good at letting things go… that was a thing she needed to work on, but not right now.

“Oh holly fuck… then it’s "JUST” no action until it grows back. Two can play a game.” this was a wild card but it felt so good to use it for her.

“Now… you are not serious…” he was kinda shocked because this was extreme for her too.

“Try me boy…” now she had that mischievous look on her face.

“You know that if I could… I would keep it, but this is not that case… I HAVE to shave it…” he was really telling the truth but the look on her face made it so much interesting that this thing was.

“You know what? That’s okay... I could make my peace with it.” she said not a string moving on her face.

“Really?” he was surprised, almost shocked because this was way too quick.

“I can make my peace with it, but you have to add one more thing to your “to do list” and make your peace with that too: stay away from me. If you shave that beard you can not even touch me… or get close to me until it appears again on you.” she rephrased her wish, this time with more style.

“Don’t you think this is way too much?” he asked trying to close the tiny distance between them but she did not let him to do so, she stepped back, not letting him touch her with his unclothed body.

“The only person who you can blame is you…It’s your choice. The beard… which means this…” she lifted her shirt up showing him her naked body under it. “Or no to the beard… and no to this too.” she made a really good point there.

“You are cruel.” he had it right, that was sure.

“A girl has to do what she has to do… this is how simple it is”. she smiled at him knowing really well that she got him.

“Then… shave it yourself, help me with it.” he tried to hand him the razor but now she was the frozen one.

“What?” her voice was kinda high pitched like she could not believe what she was hearing.

“Help me… shave it yourself. You do it… or I do it…either way this has to go…” he pointed to his face. ” … but maybe if you help me with it… you won’t blame me for its parting...” he was serious but he had a point even if she did not really want to accept it. “So??? The choice is yours.” he waited, he waited patiently. “Hmmmm??”

“Ohhh… just shut the fuck up.” she bursted out and took the razor out of his fingers.

“So You will do it?” he was curious, this was a well played game.

“Let me hate myself for a minute… okay? So shut up please… and also…wash that thing off from your face.” she told him her instructions quite firmly.

“But Y/N…” there was no reason why he should have do as her said.

“Do as I say… and do not question me again. Thanks.” she said then she made her way to the sink, made herself space in a blink, then sat up there. “What are we waiting for exactly?” she repeated her wishes and cursing herself inside because of the thing she was gonna do she mumbled quite a few curse words.

“Am I okay this way?” the foam disappeared from his face, now he was standing between her legs.

“You know… I loved you… I loved you so much, you made my pretty man even more pretty… but it seems so we have to part ways… I know you will be back… “ saying this words she gently touched his face, letting her fingers touch that beard for the last time for a while.

“Y/N…” it was hard for him not to laugh because the whole scene seemed so ridiculous.

“Psssst, I’m trying to mourn… so please be quiet.” her index finger touched his lips, she made him to shut up easily.

“One day… you will be back, and I will love you again… more than before. Keep this in your mind.. okay?” she kissed his face one last time.. one last time. “Hand me the foam before I change my mind!” the change in her tone was quick, dreadfully quick.. like she was a whole another person just after a second.

“You will still hate me for this… am I right?” he asked while she was putting that foam on his beautifully structured face like his cheekbones were like if they were made from marble by DaVinci or so.

“I still have to decide it… but that’s for sure that I’m gonna kill Jordan for this.” she said with a huge smile with on her lips.

“That’s fine by me… I need some action in my life.” he joked.

“Ohhh boy, you will got that… there is a chance that I have love for a freshly shaved, cleaned faced boyfriend of mine too… but if you are against it… that’s fi…” and that was the time he kissed her, with the foam all across of his and now her face too.

“You are number two… on my hit list, from now on.” she said while being disgusted of the taste of the foam but not his lips away from her.

“But I like being your number one…” he bite her lips.

“Work for that then…”

Tag list (write me if you wanna be on it❤)

@echelonwonderland @no-shxt-sherl @kissedbystrangerswaterbottle @bakerkells @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @mgk-rooklover1997 @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @southernmgkpunk @thegunnerkelly @findingmyths @painkillerash @rosesinmars @rosegoldrichie @pinksocktingz @itjustkindahappenedreally @cclynn88 @bluehairedtracii @rumoured-whispers @estxxbritt @xrosegoldwolfx

[leerongrong]

College Student!Haechan

part of the NCT DREAM living the Y/N life collection.

lemme introduce you to some new things donghyuck

full name: lee donghyuck

age: 19 [international]

height: 174cm

donghyuck is an adorable prankster who’s known far-and-wide throughout his life

the boy started out as a class clown, making jokes at teachers and other students in kindergarten

it got him into loads of trouble, and he didn’t really have friends because the other kids called him mean and scary when he tries to joke around with them

hyuck didn’t care tho

he loves the attention from both his peers and parents even if it meant getting scolded every night

he didn’t change when he went to elementary school, still going around pulling pranks on other people, so far as to pulling at a girl’s pigtails and being sent into detention

although his persona did change when high school rolled around

he’s no longer donghyuck, the adorkable class clown he’s now donghyuck, a rebel that hates schoolwork, teachers, and gets thrown into detention more often than he should

never does his homework, smack talks at teachers and destroys school property

people started to wonder why he hasn’t been thrown out of school yet

the only reason he’s still passing his grades is because of mark, a senior who talks and acts friendly around hyuck as if he’s just any normal student

at first hyuck thought the guy befriended him because he wanted something from him

maybe his lunch or his money

but hyuck’s blown away when mark tells him that he just wanted them to be friends

mark tells him about seeing him roam around the halls with no one to talk to,, his hands in his pockets and staying out on the outskirts and how he feels a pang in his heart

he knows the feeling of being alone with no one to talk to just because people won’t spend time trying to get to know the person underneath

he felt it himself after he moved to seoul, all the kids rejecting him from their friend circles because he looked and talked differently

and mark felt the need to befriend him

the two start hanging out alot after that

playing online games together, hanging out in arcades together, walking around school together

sometimes hyuck gives mark headaches because the boy doesn’t want to do any of his workload,, even once trying to pay mark to do his homework

and mark’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out that hyuck is nowhere near stupid

the boy could rank number one in his year if he actually put some work in

hyuck tells him it’s because school just isn’t his passion

“i want to be a singer someday. i won’t be stuck doing algebra and i’ll be going on tours and performing instead.”

hyuck’s 20 now and a changed man

he’s gotten himself into a prestigious college for the performing arts, one step closer to making his dream come true

and while he would never admit it, he’s grateful for mark. if it weren’t for him, he’s end up as a dead beat high school dropout

speaking of mark

mark went to a different college for arts, almost a town away from his

and today he’s going to come by from all the nagging hyucks’s been giving him about not meeting each other often

they’re going to meet at a cafe

and hyuck’s waiting for mark who’s 20 minutes late because of traffic

“hyung! if you didn’t want to see me you could have said so.”

“traffic’s a bitch.”

he’s starting to get bored sitting at the corner alone with nothing but his phone to keep him company, mark not even replying to his messages

until something gets his attention

its you

you’re a solo singer that started out as an actress

relatively young and have debuted for a few years now, known for your amazing vocals and catchy songs

and there you are

on the screen of a flat screen tv hanging just above him, singing and dancing in your newly released mv

hyuck’s staring at the screen and he’s listening very carefully to your song

even going onto his phone and searching for your music after the mv finishes and another show starts playing on the tv

he doesn’t even realize mark running in looking like a train wreck

out of breath and very disheveled with a very clear coffee stain on his shirt

and when he does, haechan shoves his phone into mark’s face, the latter squinting at the bright screen

“who’s this?”

“that’s y/n? she’s a solo singer, i told you about her remember?”

“nope.”

hyuck’s a little confused because?? if mark had told him about you there’s no way he would’ve forgotten

boy goes on a streaming spree right after coming home

can’t be reached by anyone for a whole 24/7, burrowing in his room with the air con on full and his phone blasting your mv one after the other

he’s hooked

goes on an impulsive buying spree for your light stick and multiple albums

pretty much spending his life’s money

droning on and on again and again to mark about you

he goes on non stop about how mark should’ve told him about you sooner, said boy rolling his eyes because, “you’re the one who forgot.”

he burst into tears when mark gave him a fan sign ticket as a reward for acing all his classes mark is THAT friend yall

hugging the life out of the older one and covering mark’s face with spit when he kisses him all over we all need a mark in our lives tbh

he still can not believe he’s going to meet you

d-day arrives

hyuck set up 5 alarms last night so he wouldn’t accidentally over sleep and miss meeting you

all his life, he’s never been a fan of working out but here he is, 8 hours before a fan sign doing pull ups and push ups because he wants to look good

he isn’t ashamed to admit that he shaved twice

nor is he ashamed that he’s using a face mask he literally just bought yesterday because they’re supposed to make him look shining, shimmering and splendid

he’s rushing out of his dorm to where the fan sign is held and he literally stops breathing when he sees you in person surrounded by security and scary looking managers

he’s reminding himself to breath because he doesn’t want to pass out in front of you while all his brain is thinking is, ‘how does she even look better in person?’

‘she looks like an angel.’

‘she’s breathtaking.’

hyuck’s convinced he’s in love

and he only watches you and stares at everything you do

he turns red when you turn to him and wave from afar

‘did that just really happen?’

‘did i just get noticed?’

‘am i in heaven?’

when its finally his turn, he turns into stone all of his planned speeches disappearing into thin air

donghyuck.exe.has stopped functioning

he gives you his gift and he knows you see him trembling and you laugh, holding his hand to stop his shaking

‘did i just hear wedding bells ringing?’

‘i’m never going to wash my hands’

he’s having his own internal crisis

you’re there staring at him for a bit, making sure you smile at him and engage in eye contact

while inside you’re a little blown away because you’ve seen your fair shares of handsome men, your own fans being the most handsome in your eyes but you’ve never seen anyone as handsome as donghyuck is and you’re wondering why he hasn’t been snatched by idol companies

both of you smile and talk to each other

and hyuck’s freaking out a little because this is his time is running out and this is the only chance to tell you the words he thought about for 3 days he even forced mark into his mini lyric writing session

“i wanted to thank you for always making me smile.”

and you’re smiling so much wider by now, the sweet words from your fans never failing to take your breath away

“are you kidding me? donghyuck you’re like the sun, so warm and you bright up my day. you’re my full sun.”

the boy practically melted then and there and had to be escorted out by your security team

the next time he meets mark all he can ramble on and on about is your fansign

“mark, she called me her sun..”

“mARK DON’T TOUCH ME I’M THE FREAKING SUN.”

“I’M CHANGING MY NAME TO LEE HAECHAN.”