#if you dress nicer than her she’ll probably kill you

[squintsintwink]

All my female sims are either trashy fake plastic glam or dirty sewer rat grunge and there’s no in between???

[unnerving-presence]

Every legion member fluff headcanons

honestly i wish i did better but i don’t write for the legion often :( it’s hard to get their character right and it’s kinda hard to not make them murderous at the same time when ur trying to write fluff 😭 sorry if this isn’t great :( my writing has been off as of recent

☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎

Frank Morrison:

Not very overbearing with affection but also not lacking in that department either. He gives that love when he feels comfortable, and it feels like a special moment when he does.

Totally takes you to some part of the realm that has a bar or any type of food and classifies it as a date. Hey, he didn’t ask for the Entity to make every realm look ominous and disturbing and it’s the best he can do!

If Frank is ever feeling tired it’s sort of a requirement that you must sleep on his chest when he takes a nap. Ormond is very cold and so is he! No he does not need a blanket, you are enough :)

Frank is quite loving when you both are alone. He’s not too big of a fan of PDA and at most will do subtle hand touching/have an arm around your shoulder or some variation of it. When you both are out of any prying eyes Frank is a huge fan of affection. He gladly welcomes any hugs, kisses, and cuddles if you ever need them. His attitude won’t show it of course, but his actions always tend to speak louder than his words do.

Julie Kostenko:

She doesn’t often show love through touch, but rather through her words. She tells you she’ll do anything for you. That she’d kill for you. It sounds scary to hear at first, but to her it’s something a loving partner would do. When your other ‘friends’ don’t want to help you during trials, she will. By disposing of them

Starting some mayhem is a great date in her opinion. If that’s not your thing? That’s okay, she’s fine with holding you in her arms as she tells you about her latest trial. As persistent as she seems about things, she’s respectful of how you feel. She also wouldn’t mind being held either. Sometimes she needs a bit of loving too. Will she say so? Probably not.

Loves to just sit and talk with you about anything though anything horror or crime related is something she’d be glad to talk about as well. Nothing is better than having an arm around your shoulder as Julie laughs with you about how stupid some horror movies can be with stereotypes and dumb characters that die too quickly.

While Julie doesn’t usually give tons of affection, she’s not scared of giving you love in front of people. They need to know. If they want to take you from her? They won’t. Yeah, she often gets jealous of you being with the other survivors, how can you tell? Well.. probably by the way she insists on being overly affectionate right when you get to Ormond. Lots of love after a trial = Probably jealous Julie

Joey:

Huge hug lover ?? He gives very nice and warm hugs and he feels like he’s making you safe whenever his arms are around yours.

Joey is more of a casual dude but shows no shame in being romantic. If he wants to give you a kiss, he’s not going to be shy about it. Though he won’t make it incredibly obvious either. Joey just doesn’t care what other people think. If they have a problem with him giving you some well deserved love then they can talk to him about it and see what happens.

Joey loves to dress you up. More specifically dress you up as a Legion member. Not saying you have to, but hypothetically speaking he thinks you’d look pretty good as apart of The Legion in this outfit and mask he’s given you. Yeah it looks similar to his. It’s totally just a coincidence. Not like he’s been making numerous outfits for you just incase you’d want to join or anything..

Contrary to popular belief, I feel like Joey is one of the nicest Legion members. Having him as your s/o just makes him nicer (and more affectionate) if anything. Being with him never feels nerve wracking or stressful. He never expects anything out of you and he’s mostly fully supporting of anything you do. Just because he’s a sadistic killer doesn’t mean he’s going to treat you like one of his victims. He’s very sweet :)

Susie Lavoie:

More on the shy side of being affectionate but she will eventually grow into it. She just needs lots of reassurance from you :) It goes a long way with her.

Constantly makes you gifts that she often never received when she was younger. Whether it be something small like a custom pocket knife or a bracelet with both of your names on it with a little heart in between, she likes to make sure you’re appreciated and loved. Sometimes Susie doesn’t feel comfortable fully expressing herself through affection, so she’ll express herself through her gifts that she makes you.

Kisses you in a day more times than you can count. Whether it’s a shower of kisses or even just one singular kiss, Susie always tends to give a lot. She is quite touchstarved and covering your face and body in kisses is one of the ways she lets up all that pent up energy out. She may even say sorry for doing so much. She just loves you so much ! You make her so outgoing it’s crazy.

Please be patient with Susie when she has difficulties giving affection! She’s quite anxious about giving affection and tends to overthink it which then leads to her ultimately being uncomfortable with it. It’s very difficult for her and she can never quite fully understand her emotions when she feels this way. If you’re big on affection, don’t pressure her to give affection or to take it. The more welcoming you are of how she feels, the more comfortable she will get when she realizes that you are more than okay with her giving you affection. It’s very nice to see when she’s finally warmed up to it :)

[joviewinchester]

“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I’m fine. See?��� She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

[yayaya-l]

Ciel and Mansion Staff with a worker around Ciel's age

@krysaart You are my first request and i just wanted to say thank you very much ! (also i can't find it back, no idea why)

I was a little stressed since it's the first time i'm writing for someone else, but it was really fun! Anyway, i hope you'll enjoy :)

Ciel

-for Ciel to hire you, you’ll have to be either excellent at some kind of martial art (or something similar) or either be really smart and guessing that Sebastian isn’t totally human

-it’s not because you’re around he’s age he’s going to be kind... prepare yourself to work a lot !

-if you have any kind of passion he’s going to be impressed and let you time in your week to practice

-if you are smart enough, challenge him to chess

-give him sweets in secret

- if you succeed into being a little closer to him (because of your age maybe) he may ask you to trick Sebastian, only because he thinks it’s fun

Sebastian

-as a butler, he’s going to be the one doing your education, now you should know it’s not going to be that easy

-but if you are less clumsy than the others, he will let you do more things

-he’ll probably let you cook with him !

-be careful, if he finds out that you’re giving sweets to Ciel, you’ll regret it

-one day, you need something and knock on his door, when he open, a cat sneak out of his room, and you just fall in love with it, from now on, you may bring food or water to his cats

-you have one of his secret (one more) and he’s going to be either even tougher or nicer

-don’t talk too much with him, he’s a demon so be careful !

-he may lie to you a few times too so keep all of that in mind

-if you can see when he is lying to you or not he might be a little impressed and let you know or do more things

-also don’t be too curious, being intelligent is a thing, but don’t put yourself in danger, he won’t hesitate to kill you

Finny

-a really good friend !

-we know Finny is really kind, so you can confess to him if anything goes wrong

-he’ll listen to everything you have to say carefully and if you are in trouble, he’ll probably help you without any question

-if you have a day off the same day as him, he’ll bring you on a picnic afternoon and show you the beauty of nature

-loves it when you tell him stories of your life before living in the mansion

-likes when you read him stories too ! He still feels like he doesn't know the outside world sometimes so if you tell him about it, you have his attention

-this boy is just impressed you can read so just try to teach him too

Bard

-if you have enough time, help him with learning the basics of cooking

-this boy is surprisingly the one who talk to you the less, but when he is here everyone just smiles

-also, tell him whenever you enter the kitchen, if he gets surprised, something might burn

-hide the spices, because he tends to put too much in the food

-Sebastian is just so done with him that it's an inside joke between you guys

Snake

-he won’t talk that much, but he’s a good worker and if you need help with your chores he can replace you

-share stories with him and if your nice one day he’ll trust you enough to talk to you without using his snakes voice

-if you want to see him smile bring something for his snakes

Mey-Rin

-you either be friends or she’ll see you as a concurrent since you are in good terms with Sebastian

-since you are not as clumsy as her, help her with simple things, and she’ll give you a big smile

-make her cookies (i’m just convinced she adores it)

-if you like fashion, go shopping with her, she loves dresses !!

[javierpinme]

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary:  You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

Masterlist

Want to be on my taglist?

It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair.  Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“  You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Regina George

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You technically don’t meet Regina, but she first talks to you one day after school while you’re walking to the bus stop.

- You see, you’re a part of the school yearbook; a photographer to be specific, and took photography class so you were fiddling with your camera while you were walking. You being a part of the yearbook was also initially the reason that she talked to you since Regina doesn’t give the time of day to people like you unless she wants something.

- So there you were, walking across the school yard when Regina fucking George called out to you.

- Now everybody knows who Regina is; which is why I said you didn’t technically meet, and Regina knows that they do, but she’s learned how to play people so she introduces herself. You shyly greet her back, wondering what she’s doing talking to you before she says “oh wow” and begins to ask about your camera.

- You don’t know enough about Regina at this point to realize that she’s playing you like a fiddle so you timidly talk to her for a while before your photography class comes up into conversation. She asks what you do in it and you mention the project you’ve just been assigned: having to pick one or a few subjects and photograph them for about half the year.

- She asks if you’ve chosen someone yet, you mention that you’ll probably choose one of your friends and she says an “oh” which has you hanging on to her next words.

“Well,” she says somewhat pointedly, “I was just thinking, I mean, you’ll have the rest of your life to photograph your friends, and I’m sure you do it all the time. So maybe you should pick a new subject?”

“If you wanted,” she says after you seem to be considering her words. “We’d be more than happy to help you out. You can come hang out with us and build up your portfolio.”

- You ask if she’s sure and she sweetly reassures you, writing down her number and telling you to think about it.

- Well bless your gay little heart, of course you say yes! You’re practically mesmerized by her! It’s just too bad that she only sees you as her own personal photographer ...at least at first.

- So you begin to hang out with the plastics, shocking everyone in your school whenever they actually give you the time of day. Though, of course, they have to give you a makeover and teach you the rules first.

- Everywhere you go, you bring your camera and snap some photos of them, oftentimes at their request. When you’re at school events working on the yearbook, Regina will call your name and you’ll obediently take some pictures of her/them wherever they are. Blinded by your growing crush on the mean girl, you don’t realize what’s happening, especially since she really seems to think of you as a friend.

- I mean, why would she tell guys with newfound interest in you to leave you alone or force you to hang out with her instead of your loser friends/boyfriend or call you up and tell you to sneak out and hang out with her.

- Truth be told, Regina George had taken an actually liking to you and perhaps it had started purely because of the attention you were getting from guys. Regina liked having what other couldnt and now that you were desired; and for other reasons, she wanted you.

- Things come to a head when Gretchen accidentally let slip exactly why Regina had made you their friend after the blonde upset her. The confession had come as a shock but at the same time, you felt dirty, like you’d known all along that it was too good to be true and this was just proving to you that it was.

- You were hurt, you were upset, you were ...angry. How dare she use you like that? Pretend to be your friend for some goddamn photos!

- You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of blowing up on her, of letting her drop you from the group herself after you “overstepped your boundaries”, so, you ignored her. You didn’t answer her calls, avoided her at school, blatantly ignored her when she called after you. You gave her the silent treatment and it gave you a sick sense of victory.

- Regina hates being ignored and not having control of everything so you; someone she’s grown to have feelings for, just up and ignoring her like she was some common geek really pissed her off. God, you should have seen her after Gretchen admitted she’d told you; the blonde could have killed her.

- So now that the blonde knew what was wrong, she started working towards fixing the mess the “brunette bitch” had made. You obviously weren’t returning her calls nor letting her come near you at school, so she had to surprise you somewhere, somewhere you couldn’t get rid of her. The schools darkroom.

- No one was around there after school, well, no one besides you so when the blonde entered and shut the door behind her, tapping on your shoulder as music blared in your headphones, you nearly had a heart attack.

- Out of sheer shock and anger, you began to yell at her, hurling a few “what the hell is wrong with yous” and insults and explaining that you don’t want to see her. She remains blank faced before she tells you to shut up, successfully shocking you into silence.

- She told you that yes, initially she’d only talked to you for the photos but even then, she saw potential in you, she saw something she liked in you. She thought her interest in you was just some sort of jealousy thing but then she figured out that it was something more. When guys asked you out; well when they tried to, she felt the same way she felt when Aaron Samuels ignored her for some other girl.

- And then she asked if you would go out with her, well, she sort of demanded that you’d go out with her and for better or for worse, you said you would.

- For your first date, the two of you go to the mall together. You spend a few hours shopping around, getting coffees and talking like normal humans. It’s no surprise that you have a good time but you are surprised by how natural it feels to be with her.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few days later, after you’d gone to some party that she’d insisted you attend with her. Some guy had hit on you, causing her to subsequently pretend that she was tired of the place and wanted to go home. Once you were back in her car, she’d pulled you into a rough, obviously jealous kiss, leaving you grinning while she began to drive away.

- And thus, the queen of the plastics became your queen.

- Regina isn’t a huge fan of Pda unless she knows that someone in the vicinity has a crush on you. If there’s someone’s day she can ruin by doing it, then she’s all over you.

- You’ll usually keep your arm around her shoulder or have her arm around you.

- Blowing kisses.

- Just watch the lip gloss when she’s going to be in public, alright?

- Aggressive kisses and makeouts.

- She actually likes cuddling; particularly spooning, especially when she’s feeling upset. She’ll either hold you or let you hold her for hours, usually while watching television.

- You have your very own pair of fuzzy slippers for whenever you stay over at her house.

- Sunbathing on her balcony.

- Phonecalls before bed.

- Affectionate name calling and insults.

- Playful hitting and wrestling.

- Borrowing each other’s stuff: clothes, makeup, perfume, etc. She’ll occasionally buy you things just so she can steal them from you later.

- Small gifts.

- A surprising amount of compliments. You don’t expect Regina George to boost your self esteem up as much as she does but what can she say, she just loves everything about you.

- She likes hearing you rant, she finds it really amusing when you act all bitchy.

- Writing in the burn book, or at least being somewhat pressured into trying it; not purposefully. She just thinks that it’s cathartic so why wouldn’t you?

- Making fun of people together. She’s more mean spirited than you are but hey, you’re both being bitches, right?

- Expect her to make a few commands. She’s just used to having followers and puppy dogs for partners, don’t take it personally.

- Getting her to be nicer to her friends.

- Learning the rules of popularity.

- Getting matching jewelry.

- I’m sorry but you’re now her dress up doll and there’s no stopping it. She’ll do your makeup, buy your clothes, style your hair, whatever her little heart desires; and you’ll just have to let her.

- She actually sort of secretly likes punk/alternative music but you’re one of the few people that’s allowed to know. You bought her an Avril Lavigne cd this one time and she not so jokingly said that she’d go down on you for being so sweet.

- You’re dragged around a lot. You sort of just do whatever she wants, especially if you’re just hanging out rather than going on an actual date.

- Surrender the keys slut. Regina insists on driving no matter whose car you’re taking.

- Going shopping. She needs your advice before she can buy things.

- Holding her stuff for her. I’m sorry but your girlfriend acts like a princess.

- Getting coffees.

- Lunch dates.

- Going to parties together.

- Junk food binges.

- Having tons of photographs together. She has a good bunch of the more platonic looking ones; at least until she comes out, displayed around her room.

- Going to her sports games.

- Letting her rant to you before she has an aneurysm. You’ve certainly helped calm her down from some of her really bad tantrums.

- Hanging out with her little sister. Surprisingly enough, Regina actually really likes her and acts super cute when they’re together.

- She’s got a huge house and an aggressively supportive mom so if your parents are shitty, you’re always welcome to stay with them.

- Telling her how beautiful she is and trying to stop her from focusing on every little somewhat nonexistent flaw of hers.

- Reginas a very jealous girl. She hates seeing you with other people, particularly ones who she thinks are interested in you. She’ll ask what you’re doing talking to them and blatantly scare them away when she’s had enough.

- She’s definitely possessive of you; that’s just how she is.

- Don’t mess with mama bear. She’s sorta overprotective of you and gets offended in your honor. God forbid someone upsets you, or just accidentally bumps into you in the hallway, their life will be destroyed in a matter of minutes.

- The two of you probably fight a lot, sometimes merely bickering, other times having full on screaming matches. She’ll usually either act passive aggressive and pretend to not be bothered or be completely blunt and rude.

- You’ll usually give her the silent treatment and she’ll do the same to you, though she’ll snoop and secretly drive around to see what you’re doing without her. When she’s sick of not seeing you, she’ll give a reluctant apology and somehow always make you forgive her.

- Regina isn’t shy when it comes to saying she loves you, mainly because she usually says it playfully. Though, with that being said, she does always mean it when she says it.

- Perhaps the bus incident happens, perhaps it doesn’t. Nonetheless, the two of you are planning on sticking by each other’s sides; at least for a while.

[yesvaldemarharder]

Yandere Arcana

Ayo so um.. with 723 followers I really be expecting people for more input on things I should write (requests, ideas, convos, etc) but um.. I guess not? Lol. Anyway since I’m basically writing for like a couple people (people who actually respond to my work cause I like that. If you just like and reblog that’s fine but I still like hearing what people have to say about my work. If your shy don’t be.. I literally don’t judge..) I’ll go ahead and write scenarios for Yandere Arcana. If y’all want more of this just tell me. I was almost tempted to do nsfw lol!

I wanna say that I haven’t played the game enough to finish anyone’s route and while I want to, ya girl broke so picking choices is something I have to wait a while for as well. (The cost on those coins and I can’t even get a Valdemar route??? What type of shit-)

If any of the characters seem ooc I apologize I just really wanted to write this so um.. yeah.

I guess I’ll take the time to part a warning right here: If you don’t like yanderes or anything of the sort I suggest you don’t read this! I would do the ‘below the cut’ thing but I’m all honestly I don’t know how to.. so here ya go!

You have been warned!

-

Asra

Asra is a tricky yandere. He knows you well enough to get into your head.

He may take times to keep a distance from you but whenever he messages you or comes back he always makes sure to show you so much affection just so you hopefully don’t question anything.

He’ll act like something to you matters to him, and usually they do matter but if you’re talking about a love interest or something he’ll act supportive but will really be a bit annoyed on the inside.

Depending on your love interest he may get upset or simply will smile and try to ‘help you get them’. Don’t let it be Lucio or Julian.. he’ll be furious.

If he acts like he’s happy to help and your LI disappears then he probably did or didn’t send them somewhere where neither of you two can meet again. Like a portal to a dark cold place or something.

He’s like a snake.. or even a fox. He’s the magician for a reason.

Nadia

Nadia probably won’t even hide how much of a yandere she is.. okay maybe just a little.

She’s the countess, what does she need to hide? She’s also meant to be with you and you’re supposed to love her no matter what. Nadia seems to be a bit of an oblivious yandere. Not aware that what she does for you is rather scary at times.

She showers you in gifts. Some of the cutest clothes just to basically play dress up with you like your some little doll. She doesn’t like it when you turn down a gift and while there’s a couple times she’ll get frustrated in the end she’ll send the gift to you late at night with a sweet not hoping you take it.

While she usually ask for your input against other’s, when it comes to someone who isn’t much use to the palace or her especially sniffing up on you she’ll usually deal with them.. whether banishing them and having them get hunted down throughout the forest like some sort of game.

She can be ruthless, and when she’s really in a bad mood it’s hard for her to listen to anyone. Don’t beg for her not to kill off someone because she most likely will act you didn’t say anything, kiss your forehead, and will proceed with the execution.

Also gets really touchy with you when her sisters are around..

Portia

Portia is usually a very carefree chick but while she can be easygoing she can be rather on guard about you.

It’s not often with you, because she doesn’t want you to know the bad things she’d do for you, but every once in a while she’ll ‘joke’ about killing for you. She’s caring and always makes sure you’re safe so you don’t question it until she actually does it when you have a suspicion that she did it..

Will cry and manipulate you into believing she’s innocent because seeing fear on your face towards her makes her scared. She was just doing what was ‘right’, of course her terminology of right is different from yours tho.. that’s why she lies about not doing it.

You’ll trust her and while you’re still a bit nervous she’ll work on that making sure to check up on you often. Once she gains your trusts back again she grows to be a lot more sneaky.

Rat poison is probably what slipped into the man’s tea after her kept messing with you but who knows?

Julian

Julian can be much like his sister but instead of growing emotional to defend himself he grows serious. It’s so different from his usually jokingly self and reminds you of the red plague times so you can’t help but apologize for accusing him.

He may not have killed Lucio but he’s definitely took a couple people out for you. Most unintentionally but still did it anyway. That guy couldn’t swim and Julian simply didn’t hear him crying for help.. it’s okay though cause you did say he had a weird vibe about him anyway, obviously Julian agreed.

He can be clingy, needy, and touchy. If you don’t know about the yandere in him you love it and you loving it just manages to feed it more. If you do know about it and you’re scared he uses his touches to try and calm you down. To have you let your guard down.

He’ll use his self hate against you for many different reasons now. While he does hate himself he found that you usually encourage him or try to make him feel better after he talks about himself too much. He’ll use it on you to stop you from running away from him because your morals are far better than his at this point and he knows you’ll stay to try and help him.

When you find out that he’s been killing people you’re terrified and even though you know you should runaway and leave.. you also can’t help but want to help him.

What if he’s actually innocent like he was with Lucio? (Definitely not.) What if the depression got so bad and he couldn’t help himself? He needed help and only you could help him.

He’ll chuckle sometimes at how cute and silly you are. With how he is he knows you won’t be going anywhere and he’s perfectly fine with that because had you did think of running away he’d just chase you down and use he’s depression against you to make you feel bad for leaving and to bring you back to him.

Lucio

The coliseum was made for a reason... Lucio likes a good fight and anyone touching you, speaking with you, or even looking at you can make him want to have one.

If it isn’t a physical fight it’s a fight with words (which he isn’t that good at but his smugness makes it pay off)

He’s a hopeless romantic type of yandere and unlike his wife he actually doesn’t recognize or acknowledge the bad sides of himself. He either doesn’t to face them or actually thinks cutting that servants throat for huffing in your presence was justified.

You honestly can’t tell but hey, you’re scared. He’s a Count though... THE Count.. if he’s your yandere it’s going to be hard to get away from him without getting hunted down. He’ll make sure to keep an eye on you. (much like Nadia)

He’ll lock down the whole palace if it means keeping you in place. If you do manage to escape he’ll be highly impressed honestly before he’s goes hunting you down. When he finds you he’ll make sure the palace is locked down a lot tighter then it has been before.

Muriel

He definitely starts out as a silent stalker type. Muriel isn’t really attracted to anyone before you and even though he is interested in you he makes you come to him.

I believe he’s actually one of the nicer yanderes but he does have his moments of being possessive.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone unless it’s absolutely needed.. wouldn’t want to kill anyone for something silly.. of course not.

Ok! I’m at the courtiers! Now these ones might be sadder because I have a lot of headcanons for them. Mainly the horsemen and I do believe Valerius doesn’t have much story on him either so yeah.

Volta

Volta’s an absolute sweetheart. Tis is all.

Nah I’m fucking with y’all, it’s a yandere post.. anyway while Volta is a sweetheart she can’t help but be a bit possessive over you. Unlike the other courtiers her emotions come out a lot more and with her past she never thought she find someone like you.

Now that she has though it’s hard to separate the two of you..

She clings to you, cry for you when you’re gone for too long, feeds you if she’s really into you..

People don’t really see her as a threat and that’s only until she threatens to eat them.. when she gets like that people make sure to leave you be because the really aren’t sure if Volta will actually do it but with that bright playful but warning look in her eyes they don’t want to put it past her.

Vlastomil

Vlastomil kinda has that same oblivious energy in him as Lucio or Nadia however it may seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong but he really does.

He’s a demon, he knows how to play with humans but the thing is what he does is just him trying to understand himself better. Before you he only cared about his worm and now you were here.

He pretty much treats you like he treats Wriggler.. you’re very dear to him and let anything happen to you he’ll make sure everyone around knows how he feels. Whether it’s crying, shouting or simply anxiously looking for you.

He fears with other humans you’ll either get taken from him or get hurt but them and neither one of those are things he’s ok with obviously.

He’s a tricky demon, he may trick you into believing his morals verses your own.

“I love you dear! That’s why he has to go.. you don’t want him to hurt you yes?” He’ll manage to make you believe that everything he does is for you. If you have any sort of trauma he might even use that against you so be extra careful.

Valerius

I can see Valerius being much like Muriel but worse. He likes to stalk and watch you from afar until he can figure what’s the best route to take and going about getting to you.

He’s almost relieved you come to him first. The relationship is rather.. bumpy. At times he’ll be grumpy for no reason and sometimes you can get tired of that but anytime you threaten to leave him he gets you into bed a second faster and distracts you.

I can see him either being a good or bad yandere.. there’s no in between. Either he knows exactly how to keep you to himself or he struggles doing so which only frustrates you. You can say he takes some of that frustration out on you but he tries not to because the last thing he needs in to tell Lucio you ran off and have a bunch of guards chase you down.

Oh that’s right, Lucio helps him when it comes to reeling you in and keeping you their. It’s scary but how are yo to go against the Count and his Consul?

Valerius might say some really cruel things to you to make you stay. He doesn’t want to even think about you leaving him. The second he saw you was the same second he fell for you. He might question his own emotions a lot but after a while of simply stalking or having other people stalk you and report back to him, he can tell it is you that he wants.

Vulgora

Vulgora is one of the bad ones you can get. Their aggressiveness and bluntness can be scary so when you need to escape them not many will be willing to help you. Many might even be on their side out of fear of what the war demon can do.

I feel like Vulgora is one of these two yandere types if not both.

Either the type that uses anger as a way to express themselves even if they don’t want to. Like, they care very deeply about you but they are one of the courtiers who don’t understand these emotions.. it frustrates them to not understand and it makes them angry. They try not to take that anger out on you and usually ends it with taking the life of a mortal.. or a couple considering one isn’t enough.

The other type is the yandere who can’t hold their temper and simply wants you because they can have you. It’s a possessive thing.. no one can have you but them.

They won’t hesitate in killing for you and if you ask or grow scared they would try to say they didn’t do it. They’ll be honest. What are you going to do about it.. fight them? Leave them? Oh darling they believe you’re too smart to do something stupid like either one of those..

They’ll leave their mark on you, usually biting because even if there’s very few beings with teeth like theirs in the palace everyone know the deep marks belong to someone dangerous and usually people put a distance with you.

People might be scared of you for simply being trapped and stuck with them. Poor thing..

Valdemar

Go ahead and just pass away sis, we ain’t making it away from this one..

In all honesty Valdemar might be the worse yandere out of this group. Vulgora following after as well as Lucio, Vlastomil, and maybe Julian..

Now it’s either they don’t care about your feelings at all and well make sure you know it or they care far too much to let you out of their sight. Valdemar might be persistent to test on you and might do it even if you don’t want to but also they might grow worried about your safety if they do do it.

You’re like their precious little specimen and no matter what you do they are always watching. You can’t even escape them after death because they are death. There’s simply no escape.

It’s been centuries since they’ve felt as strongly for someone as they did you and that person didn’t make it to where they are now.. they refuse to let that happen again..

If you try to run from them they’ll have beings chase you, they’ll make you run for your life and when you come crying for help they’ll cackle in your face. They want you to know you can’t live without them and once that’s drilled into your head they’ll never allow you to ever get away.

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

So there's a blanddcheadcanons post that says that "Kara is the mortal avatar of Rao" and I really don't like it, especially in the context of SG 3x04 (The Faithful). At best, as was pointed out to me by a friend with whom I discussed this post, the House of El is likely blessed and somewhat sponsored by Rao, which probably doesn't do much but produce Krypton's greatest heroes, given what the word "El" **means** in Kryptonian. I'm interested in your thoughts on this (pls post your answer).

    I reject the headcannon solely because if it were true it would mean Coville was right and I fucking hate that bitch.

     In all seriousness, though, this is an idea I've seen a lot and I'm not a huge fan of. I don't know much about Raoism beyond what appears in the show and that which can be inferred off of the show. One thing I would point out though is that El in Kryptonian (while obviously being intended to mean God by the original comic writers) can mean Sun or Stars, and since the Kryptonians in the show are, as far as I can tell, monotheistic, and worshipped only one particular star, the El family is not necessarily named God. It would, however, signify their enormous prestige on Krypton and contribute to the famous El pride (or rather, arrogance). I’m not sure it would necessarily have to mean anything more than that-- that the Els are a respected house who have produced a variety of successful politicians, civil servants, and scientists. And (this time reaching a little bit) that they are perhaps so old and respected that their house name was once a title. 

      There is a certain allure to the theory, for sure. Kara is a paragon character. She always, always does what she thinks is right, regardless of the cost, personal or global, and regardless of what other people might think of it. She has a very direct moral compass, and there are only a handful of times when she doesn’t follow it, all of which involve saving Lena. Ship who you want, but it is notable that Kara routinely prioritzes Lena’s life over that of others given the rarity of that happening otherwise. She never even considered breaking Rick Thompson’s father out of prison when he kidnapped Alex, and all he’d committed was bank robbery. Kara has lines she does not cross (though murder is clearly not one of them). She is a character that has seen some of the worst that sentient life is capable of, has seen more death and suffering than most people could imagine, and she came out of it with an all-encompassing desire to protect others. She lives to give people hope. Plus, the humor of having Kara-- the one person most offended by the idea of being an Avatar of Rao-- turn out to be an Avatar of Rao is great.

       But, I would also say that having Kara want to do good because she is the avatar of a benevolent god is reductive and not particularly true to her character. It is true that helping and protecting people is a large part of the core of who Kara is. But there is a difference between altruism and the self-destructive, bordering of suicidal desperation to save absolutely everyone that Kara practices. And to anyone who doubts the suicidal bit, I direct you to the season 1 finale where Kara literally goes on a goodbye tour because she thinks if she goes out to fight Non she’ll die. She still goes because she has hope, but that hope is that she can at least save Earth with her life. She doesn’t fight because she is certain in the ultimate victory of good and justice. She does it because she more afraid to lose another family than she is to die. Kara doesn’t become Supergirl and risk her own life because she believes in good, she does it because she can’t stand to listen to people suffer-- because she has suffered. To use Alex’s words in 1x13 “You fight everyday to keep people from struggling like you have.” Notably also in 1x13, Kara wakes up from the Black Mercy and her first words are “Who did this to me?” and then she goes after Non in what could arguably be described as a homicidal rage-- a rage that is fueled entirely for personal reasons, not the greater good of Earth (though that comes as an added benefit), which is.... not very befitting the avatar of a benevolent god. 

     A major part of season 1 is Kara dealing with grief and rage. She nearly breaks a guy's arm in episode 6 because he screamed at her for damaging his car, to hell with the children he'd almost hit with it. In season 3's Midvale flashbacks we see her first put both hands through a lunch table, then attack Jake when she suspects him for Kenny's death. She gets better at controlling it as the seasons progress, but during Crisis she very nearly melts Lex. Also not particularly godly of her. 

     Then there is the fact that so much of who Kara is is shaped by fear: fear of the government, fear of humanity, fear of abandonment, and fear of herself. In her civilian life, Kara is, for the most part, unnoticeable. She's polite, soft-spoken, doesn't wear a lot of bold colors or styles, and is often a pushover. As shown by her encounter with Red Kryptonite, Kara would not dress or speak the same way to people without the pressure of hiding her identity (though much of her dialogue is purely the loss of her "don't be an asshole" filter, some of it is stuff she had every right to say before and just didn't). I have always found that episode to be very interesting purely for the fact that Kara doesn't actually seem to be seeking harm on others so much as seeking their attention. Her argument with Alex is almost entirely about how much she hates having to hide and pretend to be less than she is. Kara drops Cat off the balcony and then catches her. She attacks the police when they point weapons at her but doesn't kill or even hurt them that badly, instead of destroying the car they're using as shelter. Red-K removed her inhibitions, made her angrier, yes, but if her goal was to actually hurt people, she could have done so-- would have done so, and with great ease. She goes to a public bar and uses super strength to smash bottles by flicking peanuts. Why do that at a crowded bar? Why not just flick potato chips at the windows in her own apartment?

      This is Kara at her absolute worst-- but does she seek out the DEO agents who shot her out of the sky? Does she go after Maxwell Lord or Non? No. She tries to make people pay attention to her. Her most shameful and hideous desire is for people to give her respect. (Admittedly, respect gained through fear, but still.). Kara's a nice person-- much, much nicer than average-- but a lot of that "nice" is just her avoiding conflict to avoid attention.

      Kara is a good person. Kara inspires people. But that is because Kara gets up every day and chooses to be good and to inspire. It's one of the reasons I enjoy Non as a villain so much-- he and Astra are Kara's narrative foils. They also remember Krypton and grieve its loss. They also were trapped in the Phantom Zone. But where Kara had the Danvers to convince her that some good people existed and would risk themselves just to help others, Non and Astra had Alura sentencing them to eternal suffering rather than helping them save their planet (through the means they thought necessary) and then landed on Earth and found it headed on the same path as the planet they'd just lost. Kara had people to help her grieve. Non and Astra were surrounded by misery. They lost hope. Kara discovered it.

     Kara is the Paragon of Hope because she has been hopeless. Because she has suffered so much, seen so much, and because she chooses to believe in a better future. She didn't have hope her first time in the Phantom Zone. She didn't even have hope for a while on earth. From what we can gather, Kara's choice to start actually believing in the future was a gradual shift that occurred sometime after Kenny's death and has lasted her ever since. For Kara, hope is learned. She chose to hope and she won't let it go, and to assign that incredible victory off to her being a God is an insult to her growth and to her character. 

   Now I personally thought “The Faithful” handled this concept very well. 3x04 is one of my favorite episodes of television in general, let alone in Supergirl. Season 3 is my second favorite season, and that says a lot for its good episodes when the bad of season 3 is so, so very bad (To say nothing of the episode to episode production value, we have the waste of Argo, Mon El’s return as obviously he’s grown he has a beard Mon El, and whatever the hell was going on with Kryptonian genetic engineering eclipse causing witches). To this day I don’t know why Kara had magic dreams. The show did nothing to explain it and I can’t imagine up a reason. 

     But “The Faithful” works because it highlights the whole paragon part of who Kara is. When you realize that every person in the room of Coville’s cult is a person she has personally saved-- that hits hard. Especially since only a fraction of the people she’s saved would ever set foot inside that building with the totally not-creepy, entirely wholesome way they deliver the invitations. (“Your daughter is special. She has been chosen. As have you.”) It works because it focuses on how the average human must view Kara, the ones who don’t see her argue with her sister over potstickers and crush her phone when she gets mad. It works because of how desperately hard Kara tries to be a human. It works because the writers know that we, the audience, do not see Kara as anything but a regular person with irregular abilities: a kind and remarkably devoted person, but not a god. 

[pickalilywrites]

i'm still alive ^^

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

How to Be a Good Coworker

Erejean. Zombie Detective AU.

Chapter 4.

11442 words.

Read on Ao3!

For the past week, Eren has been bumming it out at Jean’s house. Every other day, he visits the basement in the bookstore Annie works at so that he and his friends can compare notes, but not much progress has been made in terms of finding his killer. While everyone else’s suspect lists remain empty at every meeting, Annie’s list manages to grow every time they see each other.

(“Are you just writing down the name of everyone in town that you can remember?” Armin asks her at one point after taking a closer look at her list.

“Yes,” Annie replies without blinking.)

Eren’s beginning to think that they’ll never find his murderer, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe his murder was a one-time thing and whoever killed him regretted their actions so much that they vowed never to kill again. Maybe they’re repenting for their sins right now. Maybe there isn’t a killer lurking in the town and turning people into zombies and they’re just doing all this extra work for nothing. Eren knows that the possibility of this is highly unlikely, but he honestly wants to shove all this business about his murderer in the back of his mind now that he has more pressing things to worry about.

After visiting his mother the other day, Eren’s phone has been blowing up every morning and night with texts from his mom. She’s always asking him how he’s doing, if he wants to visit soon, and what he had for breakfast or dinner. His answers are nearly always the same: fine, maybe when he finds the time, and just whatever Jean had gotten from his mom or a nearby restaurant. He always has to take pictures of Jean’s meals to send to his mom and assure her that he’s eating properly, although all the oil and spices make him want to gag. Even being near them makes him feel nauseous. Jean likes to point out that Eren’s choice in food isn’t any much better, but Eren begs to differ. The fact that the meat he eats isn’t loaded with any seasonings or extraneous flavors makes his food superior already, but Jean always rolls his eyes whenever Eren begins his rant on the greatness of raw meat.

Eren shreds into a piece of pork shoulder. It’s not his favorite cut of pork. Although the cut of pork might be more forgiving on Jean’s wallet, it’s tougher than Eren prefers. Maybe Jean doesn’t see a difference because he’s never thought about how different it is once the meat is cooked. Pork shoulder is similar to other cuts when they’re cooked. You could substitute it with pork butt or a pork leg and still get the same tenderness, but only if you braise it. When it’s uncooked, it’s tough as shit, Eren thinks as he gnaws on the meat in dissatisfaction. He’d rather be eating some pork belly right now with meat so fatty that it’s practically melting on his tongue. The thought of it makes Eren drool and the piece of meat in his mouth nearly falls out.

Someone knocks at the door and Eren freezes. Jean is already out for work. He’s too organized to leave anything at home, so there isn’t any reason for him to come back. Jean’s mother is even more organized and knows Jean’s schedule even better than Jean probably does, so it wouldn’t make sense for her to come here either.

Cautiously, Eren gets up from his seat and makes his way to the front door as quietly as possible. He doesn’t even breathe as he peers into the peephole, his cheek pressed against the door. He’s more than surprised when he sees Annie Leonhardt standing on the other side. Or maybe he shouldn’t be.

“Did you forget that I was supposed to pick you up today?” Annie grumbles as soon as Eren opens the door. She doesn’t even bother to say hello. Then again, Annie has never been one to waste time with meaningless greetings. She breezes past Eren and plops down on Jean’s couch, quite comfortable even though this isn’t even her apartment. When she sees Eren staring at her, she raises her eyebrows and gestures towards his half-eaten breakfast. “Don’t just stand there gawking. Finish your disgusting food. We have places to be.”

Eren sniffs and swings the door shut. It’s strong enough to shake the tiny apartment, but Annie doesn’t even flinch. “It’s not disgusting,” Eren mumbles as he shuffles over to the dining table. Hastily, he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaces when he sees traces of blood smeared across his skin. He really does need to listen to Jean about eating properly. It’s fine if it’s just Jean, but if it's Annie or any of their other friends, it’s embarrassing even if they also know about Eren’s condition.

The TV buzzes in the background as Annie flips through Jean’s Netflix account. Every once in a while she’ll smirk or snort at Jean’s choice in TV shows.

“Aren’t you invading his privacy?” Eren asks through a mouthful of pork shoulder. He nearly chokes trying to swallow it down. It’s as tough as shoe leather.

Annie points at Eren with the remote and gives him an icy stare. “Eren, we all know everything about each other. It’s the curse of being friends with you guys. I know every single anxious thought running through Armin’s mind at any given moment, I know you’re a zombie and all your weird zombie cravings, and I know just how much Reiner loves Bertholdt,” Annie says. “I’m pretty sure Jean doesn’t care that I’m browsing through his Netflix profile right now.”

Eren makes a face. Everything Annie has said is true, but it still feels wrong. It’s not like he can argue against Annie, though, so he shuts up, finishes the rest of his breakfast, and quickly washes his plate and utensils in the sink. Jean has said that he doesn’t mind if Eren just leaves his dirty plates in the sink, but it feels weird to have Jean wash plates smeared with blood that aren’t even his. Once he’s done, he slips into Jean’s room to change while Annie watches The Walking Dead, which feels kind of inconsiderate considering the circumstances.

“I’m ready,” Eren announces, stepping into the living room space. He’s dressed in black slacks and a mossy green turtleneck that covers his neck. Jean had done some quick shopping for Eren after work one day, so these clothes fit much better than the ones Eren had been borrowing from Jean. Eren has a tan peacoat thrown over his ensemble. He looks much nicer than he ever did for any of his internships back in college. Maybe he should let Jean pick his outfits for him more often.

Annie looks him over and frowns. “Aren’t you two awfully domestic?” she asks before clicking the TV off. She leans forward, elbows on her knees with her cheek resting in one hand. “Jean picked out some really nice clothes for you. You actually look better than you ever did when you were alive.”

Eren wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t think he’ll ever appreciate that joke. “How do you know he picked out these clothes?” Eren asks.

“Because you could never pick out clothes that look that good,” Annie replies. She ignores Eren, who’s spluttering and clearly offended, and shrugs on her coat. She wraps a fluffy white scarf (no doubt another one of Armin’s creations) around her neck and looks back at Eren. “Let’s go. I don’t want to have to look after you all day.”

“I told you guys I didn’t need you to walk me to and from work,” Eren mumbles, but he shuffles after Annie as she walks to the door.

“It’s more for the benefit of everyone else in town. You know, so you don’t eat them on accident,” Annie says. She says it casually, but Eren still winces. She gestures for Eren to follow her out the door. “Lock the door, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Eren rolls his eyes but does as he’s told. He even gives the handle a little jiggle to make sure he’s locked the door properly. When he slips the keys into the pocket of his slacks, he looks up to see that Annie is already descending the stairs. “Wait for me!” he squawks.

Despite being the smallest out of their group of friends, Annie seems the least afraid of letting her guard down around Eren. Armin, of course, is always anxious and has always been that way since before Eren had become zombified. Reiner, despite his jokes, still visibly tenses around Eren if he gets too close and Jean is always watching Eren with a cautious eye. Annie, however, shows her back freely to Eren. Had it been anyone else, Eren would be touched, but he knows for a fact that Annie is only relaxed because she can easily take Eren down with her eyes closed even in his zombie form. In a way, it makes it a little easier for Eren to be around her than some of their other friends.

The walk to the news building is long and silent. It’s something that should be expected. Annie is not one for conversation even with her friends. Eren knows this quite well considering the fact that they’ve both known each other for nearly their entire lives. Still, it doesn’t stop Eren from trying to make conversation because there’s nothing more than awkward lulls of silence.

“So, do you have any leads?” Eren asks. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He wonders if he should have put on gloves to hide how ugly and boney his fingers are. Maybe he’ll ask Armin to knit him some mittens. “It’s pretty hard for me to investigate myself since we’re trying to limit the amount of time I’m outside, but if you have anything …”

“I have many leads,” Annie replies. She turns her head slightly to face Eren and it makes it a little easier to hear her, although her voice is still muffled by her scarf. Almost the entire lower half of her face is covered by the scarf. Only her icy blue eyes and light blonde hair peeks out. “In fact, it might delight you to know that my list of suspects has only grown longer.”

It takes every ounce of self-restraint that Eren has to not let out a huge sigh. “I thought Armin specifically told you to stop adding names to that list,” Eren says. He reaches up to rub his eyes tiredly. “I think he told you to shorten that list and focus on people that might have actually wanted to kill me. Or turn me into a zombie.” For a brief moment, he wonders if those two things are the same.

Annie shakes her head. “You two are gravely underestimating the number of people in this town that would have wanted to kill you at least once in their lives,” Annie says with a cluck of her tongue. “It would be a disservice to our investigation to shorten that list. Besides, isn’t it better to leave every stone unturned?”

Eren eyes her wearily. He’s far too tired to argue with her. He strongly suspects that Annie isn’t taking this investigation seriously if she’s just writing down anyone’s name that comes to mind. Maybe he should be glad that she’s enjoying this in some sick, twisted way. At least someone’s having fun.

“Annie!” someone calls. It surprises Eren and it seems Annie too by the way she jumps slightly at the voice. When they turn around, they see a young girl with her dark hair in pigtails bundled up in a puffy winter coat that makes her look twice her size. When the girl smiles, she looks just like Reiner. “Are you coming to play?”

“Hi, Gabi!” Annie says. Her tone is much brighter than it usually is. She casually steps in front of Eren so that she’s now between him and the young girl. Crouching down slightly, Annie reaches out to pat Gabi on the head. “Nope. I’m just walking with my friend today. I’ll come visit you and Reiner at school if I have time, though.”

The young girl looks slightly disappointed and sticks her lower lip out in a pout. It’s been a while since Eren has seen Reiner’s niece. She’s grown quite a bit. She’s grown taller since the last time Eren’s seen her and her cheeks are nice and plump. The cold has made them look even rounder and rosier, and Eren thinks about how soft and smooth her skin looks. She reminds him a little bit of a newborn calf with her large eyes and young flesh. If he dug his teeth into her skin, he bet it would be like biting into cream and taste just like …

“Eren …?” the child asks. She’s staring up at him with those large brown eyes of hers.

Even with Annie standing firmly between them, Eren gulps nervously. Before he can open his mouth and say “hello,” a loud voice interrupts from behind.

“Gabi! Come give your Uncle Reiner a hug!” Reiner’s voice booms. It startles Eren, nearly making him fall backward. When the zombie turns to see Reiner, Reiner is holding open his arms for his niece, who gladly jumps into them. Reiner scoops Gabi up easily and spins her around, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head.

“Uncle Reiner!” Gabi squeals, giggling as Reiner gives her more kisses before putting her down behind him. She’s safely behind the wired gate of the kindergarten. She’s too busy smiling and giggling to notice the tense smile on her uncle’s face.

“Go play with the other kids before class starts, Gabi,” Reiner says. He gives her a pat on the head and watches as she runs off. When he turns back to Eren and Annie, he has a stern look on his face. It’s the kind of expression teachers and principals wore whenever Eren had been caught for causing trouble. Seeing it on Reiner’s face is just as bad. “You brought a zombie near my school?”

Unlike Eren, Annie doesn’t seem as ashamed. Maybe it’s because she never frequented the principal’s office as much as Eren had. “It was the closest way to the newspaper company,” Annie says, “and I had it handled. If Eren even started to lunge for Gabi, I was going to kill him.”

Eren squeaks.

“Gee, thanks,” Reiner says with a roll of his eyes. He leans against the gate, his arms crossed firmly across his chest. “I’d appreciate it if you took Eren on a different route on his way to work, though. As much as I know you could kill Eren with a single blow, I don’t want my students to watch you kill him if they happen to be around.”

Annie thinks for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip, and then nods. “I’ll take him a different way starting tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Reiner sighs. His face relaxes into a bright smile that’s just a little bit apologetic, although Eren is really the one that should be apologizing. Reiner reaches out to clap Eren on the back a little too roughly. “Congrats on the job, Eren. Are you excited for work?”

“Ah, I suppose,” Eren mumbles. He fidgets with the edge of his sleeves. “I mean, I like the idea of earning money so I can stop mooching off Jean.”

“You should mooch off of him,” Reiner says with a grin. “He’s your boyfriend. Shouldn’t you enjoy the fact that he’s spending money on you?”

Eren knows he’s only joking but he can feel his face redden anyway. “It’s not like it’s for real. He only did that so our moms wouldn’t be suspicious about why I’m living with him instead of returning home.”

“Still,” Reiner says with a dreamy sigh, “kind of romantic, don’t you think? It’s like a fake dating trope in real life, and you know how that ends.”

“This is real life, Reiner,” Eren reminds him.

Reiner dismisses Eren with a wave of his hand. “Things that happen in fiction can happen in real life!” Reiner says. “And even if it isn’t real, don’t you think it’s quite touching that Jean would fake date you just to keep people from discovering your secret?” He gestures to all of Eren, which makes the zombie feel dirty somehow.

“It’s just because he’s my friend,” Eren says.

“I would never pretend to date you,” Annie tells Eren, “for any reason.”

“... thanks, Annie.” Eren clears his throat and steers the conversation back to its original topic. “It’s just … impractical to have Jean earn money for both of us, especially since I’ll be living with him for the foreseeable future. It only makes sense that I get a job and this one seems perfect for me, although I don’t know why Jean doesn’t want me to work there.”

“Because he wants to be your sugar daddy,” Reiner says at the same time Annie says, “Because of Mikasa Ackerman.”

Eren shoots Reiner a glare and then turns to Annie, whose frown is deeper than usual. “What’s the deal with Mikasa Ackerman?” he asks. “Did they date or something? I asked Jean the other day, but he was acting funny.” To be honest, the thought of Jean dating Mikasa makes Eren feel weird. On one hand, it makes perfect sense if they dated and that’s why Jean feels awkward about Eren working with her. On the other hand, Eren finds that doesn’t particularly like the idea of Jean dating Mikasa, but he can’t exactly say why.

Both Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“It’s because she’s the worst,” Annie says, which only gives Eren more questions than answers.

The zombie opens his mouth and then closes it. He points at Annie, waggling his finger around her. “Okay, what’s the deal with you and Mikasa Ackerman?” he asks. Eren raises an eyebrow curiously. “Did you date her?”

“No, God! Don’t be disgusting. It’s nothing!” Annie says, throwing her hands up. “There’s no deal with me and Mikasa. I just don’t like her! Do I need a reason to dislike someone? Can’t I just dislike them for no reason?”

Eren frowns. It’s not that Annie needs a reason to dislike someone. She hates a majority of people she meets for no real reason. Sometimes there are reasons, but they’re often trivial: someone breathing too hard, someone blinking too much, someone smiling too often. Eren would definitely believe in Annie disliking someone for no reason, but the way she vehemently dislikes Mikasa makes it difficult for Eren to believe that it’s for no particular reason.

“It’s because Mikasa called Mina cute once,” Reiner says. He leans with his shoulder against the wired fence and it creaks slightly from his weight. Even as Annie shoots the schoolteacher a glare, Reiner just smiles back with a lopsided grin, clearly amused. “Mina giggled and Annie was furious for the rest of the night. She’s still mad.”

“That’s not it!” Annie splutters, throwing her hands up. It’s comical how she looks when she’s fuming and bundled up so tightly like a fluffy bundle of yarn. Well, it would be funny if Annie were a less terrifying person. “Why do I have to like her just because everyone else does? I just think she’s overrated, she and her stupid sword and bobbed haircut!”

“You know, most people would consider those things very cool,” Reiner says.

“I don’t!” Annie snaps.

“Okay, so I understand why Annie dislikes her, sort of,” Eren says. He’s mostly lying. Like Reiner, he also finds Mikasa’s sword and bobbed hair very cool. In fact, he finds Mikasa similar to Annie because they are both terrifying but very cool, but it’s not something he wants to say out loud. “But what about Jean? As far as I know, Jean doesn’t have an irrational dislike of swords or bobbed hair.” He ignores Annie, who shoots him a death glare that probably would have killed him if he weren’t already dead.

Reiner’s eyes turn skyward as he thinks. “Mmm, I’m not sure if Jean dislikes her. Isn’t it more that he doesn’t want you to get too friendly with Mikasa?” he asks.

“Well, I guess,” Eren says. Now that he thinks of it, there wasn’t any particular malice in Jean’s voice when he spoke about Mikasa. The makeup artist sounded more irritated than angry. “But why wouldn’t he want me to meet Mikasa?”

Reiner thinks some more. He must think of something because his expression brightens and he says, “Maybe it’s because -”

At that moment, Annie coughs loudly. It’s a fake cough, Eren knows, because Annie has never gotten sick in her entire life. When the zombie turns to look at her, she’s shaking her head with a dark expression on her face but she abruptly stops when she sees Eren watching.

“Why did you do that?” Eren asks.

“Do what? I didn’t do anything,” Annie says, feigning innocence. She grabs Eren a little too tightly around the wrist and tugs him towards her. To Reiner, she says, “Okay, we should let you attend to your students now. Let’s go, Eren.”

Reiner looks as if he’s about to say something else but glances down at his watch and notices that he’s about two minutes late. He bids both Eren and Annie goodbye before rushing towards the classroom and ushering his students inside so that they can begin class. Eren and Annie watch until Reiner has rounded every last kindergartner into his room and shuts the door.

“You know, I may not know why you did that, but I will find out,” Eren says, pointing a finger at Annie.

“Well, good luck with that. I’m sure it’ll go well considering how far you’re getting along investigating your own murder,” Annie says, looking down at Eren’s finger amusedly. She turns her back and begins walking down the sidewalk again. She doesn’t wait to see if Eren is following her, but the zombie does pad along after her after a few beats. “I’m sure you will find out about Mikasa eventually, but I will warn you: you won’t like it.”

“Why? Because you don’t like her?” Eren snorts. With his long legs, it’s quite easy to catch up to Annie. “Is it because we’re friends and you expect me to hate everyone you hate? I hope you know how tiring that is considering how many people you hate.”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Please, I can hate everyone just fine without your help,” she tells him. She walks with her hands held behind her back, her pace slow and relaxed like she’s not in a hurry. Eren wonders if she’s purposely taking her time so that she can come to work late. “I’m just telling you now, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It sounds ominous and makes Mikasa seem more mysterious than Eren’s first impression of the newcomer. He could ask more questions, but he knows that Annie probably won’t give him a satisfying answer or if she’ll even answer at all. He’s not sure what Annie’s warning is or how helpful it is. What could Mikasa possibly have done to make Eren dislike her when he didn’t even know her prior to becoming a zombie? Maybe if Eren discovered Mikasa was the person responsible for turning him into a zombie, Annie’s warning would make perfect sense but the thought of that just makes Eren snort because there’s just no way. In the end, he decides that it’s just Annie’s dislike of Mikasa that’s causing the blonde to make such negative claims about the journalist.

The two of them end up at the gate of the newspaper building. It feels a little embarrassing for Annie to have walked him the entire way there. It’s like she’s dropped him off at kindergarten, but Eren knows he shouldn’t complain.

“Thanks for walking me here,” Eren mumbles, his feet shuffling on the ground.

“No worries,” Annie says. Her hands are folded across her chest and she looks reluctant to leave him, but Eren doesn’t know if it’s because she’s genuinely concerned about him or because she doesn’t want to go to work. He highly suspects it’s the latter reason. Annie tosses her head so that her bangs are no longer in her eyes and she frowns when she sees the figure standing at the front of the building. “Ugh, your coworker is waiting to greet you, I see. Better not keep her waiting but … just try not to be her friend. Just … be her coworker and keep things professional.”

Weird advice, Eren thinks. “Uhh, okay,” he laughs. He gives Annie an awkward salute and begins to walk towards Mikasa. “I’ll do that. Have a good day, Annie!”

He expects her to leave immediately, but he’s surprised that she watches him until he and Mikasa enter the building.

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

Being introduced into his new workplace is … strange, to say the least. It’s strange because Mikasa introduces Eren to people who he’s known his whole life, people who had invited him to work with them after they found out he graduated with a degree in journalism but Eren had turned them down in the hopes that something better would soon come his way. Something better never did, but these people still smile at him and welcome him to the office because it’s easier to do that than hold a grudge against someone in a small town.

Mikasa shows him around the small box of an office, introducing him to everyone and laughing easily with them as if she’s the one that had grown up in this small town her whole life and not Eren. It makes Eren a little jealous and he wonders just how much he had missed while he was gone. Mikasa tells him a little bit about the articles they’ve covered in his absence — nothing interesting, just more missing visitors, some news about the pasta place on the street corner getting an honorable mention in a reputable food blog, and a cat that got repeatedly stuck in a tree for two weeks straight. There are, however, a few newspaper articles about Eren, but Mikasa quickly glosses over them as if to save Eren some embarrassment.

“And here’s your desk,” Mikasa says, gesturing to the cube next to hers. It’s a tiny thing, just four walls and a desk with a standard computer and a few cabinets to hold his things. It looks exactly like Mikasa’s. The only difference is that she has a few papers here and there, but her desk is strangely barren. Even their coworkers have a few knick-knacks or pictures to personalize their desks, but Mikasa’s is void of anything that would give a stranger a peek into her personal life. She’s either incredibly private, neat, or boring.

“Ah, thanks,” Eren says. He should probably be excited, but he feels a little tired looking at how dull his desk is. Maybe he should buy a plant to liven up his workspace.

“No problem. It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Eren,” Mikasa says cheerfully. “Even if you did lie to me right when we met.”

A huge pang of guilt hits Eren in the chest. It makes him wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and he really is. There isn’t really any good explanation he can give to Mikasa for lying, but she hadn’t asked him about it when he had come in this morning either. Maybe Annie is completely wrong about Mikasa and Eren’s new coworker is just a really nice person who doesn’t care about strange falsehoods. “I … I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. I just … was kind of nervous about returning here. It’s not like my current situation is exactly glamorous.”

Her brown eyes are warm when she smiles. They’re kind, understanding. “Hey, don’t worry. We all have our problems. Let’s just hope this is another good beginning for you and hope for the best,” Mikasa says to Eren. She gestures for Eren to follow her and they begin walking to the supply closet they had passed by earlier. Mikasa throws open the door and starts searching through its contents. Unfortunately, the whole thing is a mess. “I hope you don’t mind getting right down to business today. I’ve wanted to write this article forever, and it’s kind of perfect that you’re here now because you know the hills better than I do.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” Eren says absentmindedly. He starts searching the closet alongside Mikasa, although he’s not exactly sure what they’re looking for. He shoves aside boxes of paper clips and sets a bunch of mismatched folders on the top shelf so that he can look through the shelves better. “What do you have in your article so far?” Eren asks mostly to make small talk, but he realizes that Mikasa might have information that could prove useful to Eren and his friends.

“Mmm, nothing substantial. Just what I told you the other day when we met — people are disappearing here, zombies appear, and your town seems to have an upsetting amount of occurrences compared to other locations that report zombie sightings,” Mikasa replies. She pauses for a minute, biting her lip as if she’s deciding if she should continue. After a moment, she says in a lowered voice, “It could be that … someone is creating zombies on purpose and their prime area of operation is this town.”

Eren blinks. It’s the very same hypothesis that Armin had proposed. If Mikasa thinks it’s a possibility too, maybe Eren and his friends are headed in the right direction.

“Oh, here it is,” Mikasa says. She plucks a camera out from behind boxes of pens and highlighters and plops it into Eren’s hands. She grins at him. “Are you ready for your first field investigation?”

Eren gulps and then nods. Working with Mikasa might bring him even closer to discovering the identity of his murderer and their motives. This job may have been a blessing in disguise.

“Ready,” Eren says.

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

The trek up the hills is a lot more difficult than Eren remembers. The hills are steeper, the path windier, and the winds chillier. He doesn’t remember it being this tiring walking up the hills even when he had been a child playing in the woods. He thinks it has to do with the fact that he’s lost quite a bit of muscle mass since becoming a zombie, which his many layers of clothing easily disguises. The camera around his neck hangs like a weight that only feels heavier and heavier with every step he takes.

Although Eren seems to be having a difficult time up the mountain, Mikasa seems fine. While Eren drags his feet, Mikasa takes each step as energetically as the last. She’s several steps ahead of him, and Eren’s sure she’ll disappear from view soon if she keeps that same pace. Every once in a while, she’ll turn around and smile at Eren, stopping so that he can catch up a little bit, but then take off again. Clearly, these two-second breaks that she takes are purely for Eren to catch up. Mikasa doesn’t need them to catch her breath at all.

“Have you seen a lot of zombies here since you’ve arrived?” Mikasa asks Eren as they continue up the hill. They’re nearing the top, but Mikasa isn’t the least bit breathless.

I see one every time I look in the mirror, so you could say I see one every day, Eren thinks, but he’s not stupid enough to say it out loud. He watches how Mikasa’s sword dangles from her hip. “I haven’t really … gone out a lot since I’ve come back,” Eren pants. At least he’s not lying. Eren’s been lying to everyone so much lately that he’s always relieved on the few occasions he can tell the truth.

“Mm,” Mikasa hums. For once, she slows her pace and lets Eren catch up to her so that they can walk side-by-side. “Ah, settling in does take time even if you’re returning home. You’ll probably see more zombies soon enough, so it’s probably good you haven’t been out much.”

If she only knew.

Eren wonders if he should put some more distance between himself and Mikasa. It’s always dangerous being around people, and Mikasa is the closest he’s been to a human without his friends around to hold him back. He can’t tell much about her body type — if she’s more lean muscle or if she has a good amount of fat underneath her skin — because he’s only seen her bundled under layers of clothes. He supposes he should be grateful to the chilly fall weather for that. Still, it makes him wonder what he’ll find if he peels back the layers of cotton and wool. Tough muscle like that of a deer? Soft, tender meat like that of a newborn calf? Succulent, juicy flesh like that of a fattened goose? Eren could dream about it all day, but the glimmer of Mikasa’s blade peeking out from its hilt always reminds him that it’s a bad idea.

The top of the hill gives them a decent view of the forest below, but the autumn foliage makes it difficult to see very much. Beyond that lies the town, quiet as it always is. It really is a nice place. If zombies weren’t popping up now and then, Eren would bet people aside from amateur detectives would come here just to experience how charming and quaint it is.

“I think we should go our separate ways here,” Mikasa says to Eren, which surprises him. “You should go and explore one side and take pictures of anything that you find interesting. I’ll let you know if I see anything on the other side. Sound good?”

It doesn’t sound good to Eren. It sounds weird. He thought they would be working on this whole zombie article together, and it makes him nervous that Mikasa would want to work separately. Maybe that’s just how she operates. Maybe she’s an independent collaborator. If so, Eren should just agree and do his best to take pictures. Mikasa doesn’t know him at all, and Eren does not plan on letting her know that he’s a terrible person to have on group projects. He’s going to be a good coworker and do his assigned work even if it means he has to do it alone.

“Sounds good!” Eren says cheerfully.

He had been enthusiastic about getting a job, but the work is a lot less exciting. Yes, Eren wants to find the reason why zombies are somehow drawn to this particular town as much as Mikasa does. Because of his situation, he’s probably even more motivated than Mikasa because finding the reason might also lead him to the person who had killed him and resurrected him as a zombie, but the work is admittedly demoralizing because it’s incredibly difficult to find evidence of zombies.

What is there to capture on camera that hasn’t been seen already? People in this town already know of zombies. They know what zombies do, and they’re hardly threatened. Some people even get dogs to chase zombies off their yard because they can’t be bothered to do it themselves and even a chihuahua does a decent enough job. The things zombies leave behind are even more boring.

Eren doesn’t know what to take pictures of. He takes a few shots of the forest, trying to remember what his professors had said about the rule of thirds and lighting and shutter speed during the few classes he had taken for his photography minor. There’s a picture he takes from a nearby stream that looks rather nice, almost like it can be hung in an office or put on a postcard, but it’s probably not remarkable enough for a local newspaper article about zombies.

Finding photographic evidence of a zombie is pointless though. The few pictures Eren does snap could just be grasping at straws: odd footprints that are dragged out across the dirt path, pieces of fabric caught on the branches of shrubbery, smears of blood against the trunk of a tree. There’s a possible non-zombie explanation for all of this though. The footprints could be from a tired hiker and not from a zombie. Both tend to drag their feet across the ground. The fabric could also be a hiker or maybe even a hunter whose clothes got stuck in a bush. The blood smear is a little more exciting, but it’s possible that it came from an injured animal or someone who fell during a hike. These photographs are so pathetic that Eren would rather lie and say he didn’t capture anything at all than show them to Mikasa.

Eren does entertain the thought of telling Mikasa he had managed to take no photographs. It would just be another small lie piled up on his ever-growing pile. Considering how many lies he’s told so far, adding another one shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it still makes him feel bad.

What makes things worse is that Mikasa has been nothing but nice to him. He still has no idea why Jean and Annie want him to stay away from Mikasa so much. From what he can tell, Mikasa is a decent person. She gave him his first job, didn’t say very much about him lying to her, and entrusted him to work with her on a project she’s excited about. Telling her that he didn’t get any work done wouldn’t feel bad just because he’d be lying to her again, but Eren would also feel like he let her down by helping her progress her work.

Eren frowns as he flips through the photos on his camera. He wonders if he should delete them. It’s probably what Jean and Annie would do since they’re so opposed to Mikasa, but what would Armin do?

Armin is a worrywart, first and foremost. Getting too involved with Mikasa and risking her knowing that Eren is actually a zombie is definitely something to avoid. Mikasa probably won’t hesitate to kill Eren if the sword swinging from her hip is anything to go by. But then again … Mikasa seems quite smart and driven from what Eren has seen of her. If she’s out to find the reason for the zombies cropping up in this town, then he does not doubt that she’ll find something and any information could prove useful in his own investigation into the matter. After careful consideration, Eren is quite certain that Armin would willingly work with Mikasa and only withhold the necessary details, like the fact that Eren is actually a zombie, but anything that helps Mikasa helps the greater good.

Eren turns his head and opens his mouth to call for Mikasa, but he hears her call his name first.

“Eren!” Mikasa’s voice rings loudly through the forest. It’s enough to make the birds take flight from the trees where they had previously rested, their wings fluttering as the trees shake and leaves rustle. “Eren, come here!”

“Coming!” Eren calls back. He follows her voice, which leads him off the path towards the other side of the hill. Eren wonders what she could have seen. He hopes it’s not another zombie. He doesn’t know what he would do if he came face-to-face with another one of his kind in his current state. For a brief moment, he thinks she might have seen the carcass of an unfortunate hiker that had stumbled across a zombie. The thought horrifies Eren, but the fact that his stomach growls from just the idea horrifies him even more.

As he gets closer, Eren’s steps become a little slower, a little more cautious. He really doesn’t want to see what Mikasa had stumbled upon. He closes his eyes. The zombie takes another tentative step, sniffing the air for anything unusual. The stench of rotting flesh doesn’t fill the air. The smell of sweet blood doesn’t waft to his nostrils. It really just smells like … the crisp fall air.

Eyes open now, Eren takes a few more steps and sees Mikasa with her back turned towards him. She’s looking at something, and Eren’s eyes slowly follow her gaze to … a large hole in the ground. It’s a very familiar hole, Eren realizes, because it’s the same one he dug when he had crawled out of the ground.

“It’s quite deep,” Mikasa murmurs. She drops down to inspect it closer, reaching down to touch the dirt. She gathers some in her hand and lets it fall from her fingers. “I would say .. six feet deep. That’s deep enough to bury a body.”

“Ah, do you really think so?” Eren asks. He kicks at the ground, knocking some dirt into the hole as if doing so would undo what he did. “It looks a little bit shallower than that. Maybe like … five feet and … six … inches?” He sounds like an idiot and he knows it, but he can’t help. He’s afraid that Mikasa will somehow figure out the truth: that this hole isn’t just any hole, but an Eren-shaped hole that he had popped out of when he had come back from the dead. Granted, the shape isn’t anything like him. It’s all in his head. In reality, the hole is kind of a blob shape because he hadn’t been very neat when he had dug himself out.

“No, it’s deep deep,” Mikasa says. She stands up and brushes her hands off. The reporter takes a moment to observe the curious hole and then gestures at it. “Take a few pictures of this at different angles. We should probably report this, whatever this is.”

“Er, okay,” Eren says as he fumbles for his camera. It takes him far too long to focus the lens and find the right button to snap the pictures. “What do you think … what do you think this is?” he asks nervously.

Mikasa gives him a smile. “Are you sure you want to hear? Fair warning: I’m going to sound like a conspiracy theorist,” Mikasa says.

“N-no,” Eren stammers. “I want to know.” It’s not really that he wants to know. He’s afraid of just what Mikasa knows, but he also needs to know what thoughts are floating around her head.

“I think this is where zombies come from,” Mikasa says simply. She kicks a little bit towards the hole. “I’ve been doing some research … I believe this is part of the process of turning people into zombies. I know people here don’t really think about it but … the pattern between missing persons and zombies that appear are striking. It’s not just the fact that zombies oftentimes wear the same clothing that was last seen on people who were reported missing, but the time frame between when people go missing to when they’re … zombies, I guess you could call them, is pretty consistent. It’s about a year.”

“A-a year?” Eren gulps. He hopes Mikasa doesn’t put two and two together. He hopes she hadn’t read the papers about him going missing in the local newspaper archives. He hopes she believes his lie about taking off suddenly without letting anybody in town know. He hopes she doesn’t remember the fact that he was gone for approximately a year.

“Mmm, yeah. A year,” Mikasa says with a nod. “I think these holes are … well, this is the first one I’ve seen, but maybe there are more like it.”

“You think there are more?” Eren asks. The thought makes sense. He doesn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner.

“I think if we dig around we’ll find out, but I doubt the townspeople would be happy about digging up the hills just to find out if zombies pop out of the ground,” Mikasa laughs. She looks thoughtful again, her head slightly tilted as she continues to piece together points Eren can’t quite see yet. “I think maybe … the process of becoming a zombie requires that a person dies, be buried in the ground, and be reanimated. Maybe the reanimation steps are a bit more complicated. Maybe it’s something that happens before the body is buried and takes place while the … body is buried underground.”

It’s sounding awfully familiar. Eren should be thrilled. Some of these things Mikasa is bringing forth are the same things Armin had also said during their meetings. The one-year gap between missing persons reports and their corresponding zombie appearance is new, though. It’s definitely something he should mention at the next meeting or even bring up in the group chat, but Eren can’t help thinking that the more information Mikasa gathers about zombies, the closer she is to figuring out that Eren is a zombie too.

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

Thankfully, Eren and Mikasa don’t run into anything else interesting in the hills. It’s disappointing for Mikasa, but it’s a relief to Eren. It’s difficult to hide just how happy he is about how the day ended up. He was able to take some compelling (at least to Mikasa) pictures without giving himself away, and his zombie grave was interesting enough that he didn’t have to show Mikasa the other pathetic pictures he took earlier. Maybe the standards he has for himself are low, but Eren would say that he’s currently killing it at his new job.

“I honestly expect this piece to be rejected,” Mikasa confesses as they’re walking back to the office. “I think the evidence is compelling, but it does sound like a piece that belongs to one of those fake science newspapers.”

As dangerous as it is to have Mikasa discovering more about zombies and potentially finding out the truth about him, Eren knows discouraging her work only slows his own investigation so he gives her a small smile and says, “It’s zombies. Reanimated corpses that don’t have any business walking the earth. Anything you propose is going to sound ridiculous, but you have a better hypothesis than most people. I think it’s worth a shot to put it out there.”

Mikasa looks surprised for a second and then smiles. “Thanks, Eren. That’s very kind of you.”

The two walk together in silence, crisp autumn leaves crunching beneath the soles of their boots. Mikasa doesn’t say much else as they return to the office. Occasionally, she’ll comment about the town — about a shop she finds particularly charming or a townsperson she bumped into the other day — and Eren will respond with an anecdote of his.

“I hope you had a good first day,” Mikasa says once they return to the office. She’s putting away her things, hiding them in the cabinets in her cubicle. Her desk is just as spotless as it was this morning. “I certainly had a good time working with you, Eren.”

“Ah, thank you,” Eren says. He feels relieved that he’s gone through his first day without anything happening. He can’t wait to come home and rub it in Jean’s face. “It was nice working with you too.” He wonders if he should put the camera away for tonight and think about editing the pictures tomorrow. He could just do it tonight. He probably won’t get overtime, but it might be good to do a little extra work these first few weeks to show Mikasa he’s serious about this job. Then again, he doesn’t want to seem too eager in case his coworkers take advantage of him in the future. With a frown, Eren tucks the camera in the cabinet underneath his desk. When he looks up, he sees Mikasa looking at him.

“Hey,” she says. The reporter is leaning against the walls that separate their cubes. “Do you want to grab dinner together tonight? My treat.”

“Er.” Eren squirms, uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to say no, but saying yes would just be … stupid even for him. It’s not like he can waltz into any restaurant and devour the same foods everyone else can. He’s about to shake his head and politely decline, but Mikasa is flipping through her phone.

“Is Korean barbecue good?” she asks. She raises her head, tilting it slightly as she awaits Eren’s answer. “There’s a place … well, I guess you know. If you’d rather go somewhere else, I’m open to it.”

“N-no,” Eren says, surprised. Korean barbecue sounds good. Perfect, even. “That sounds … I’d like to go. Let me just … I need to tell my friend. Boyfriend. He’s picking me up.” At that moment, his phone buzzes and he winces. He knows without looking that it’s Jean. They did agree to Jean picking him up, but he didn’t think Jean would be so … punctual.

Mikasa grins as Eren pulls out his phone. “Is he here already?” Mikasa asks. “You should invite him. I’ll invite my girlfriend too. She just happens to be in town this week.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” Eren says hurriedly. He knows Jean would never agree to this. Not only is it a dinner with someone unaware of his true condition, but it’s a dinner with Mikasa of all people. Jean, for whatever reason, would absolutely hate this. “I’ll just tell him to, ah, go home without me. He probably wouldn’t want to eat with us -”

The doors to the office burst open and Jean storms in, the tail of his trench coat flapping behind him. The makeup artist pays no attention to the stares of Eren’s coworkers. He pauses for just a moment to scan the room and, upon spotting Eren, marches right up to the zombie’s cubicle.

“Eren, come on,” he says through gritted teeth. He sounds angry, but Eren can tell from Jean’s rigid stance and folded arms that the makeup artist is anxious. “I thought you said you would be out by now.”

“Ah, I invited him out to dinner,” Mikasa says from behind Jean. Jean turns to look at her, surprised, and Mikasa gives him a friendly wave that Jean doesn’t return. Jean might dislike Mikasa, but it seems like the feeling is one-sided. Mikasa taps Jean on the shoulder. “You can come with us if you’d like. It’s really my way of thanking Eren for joining the team and being such a good coworker on his first day. He’s really great. I’m looking forward to working with him long-term.”

“Y-you do?” Eren stammers. He didn’t think he did a very good job. To have Mikasa tell him that he did well makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He looks eagerly at Jean. “It’s fine if I have dinner with her just this once, right? Mikasa invited me and I did a good job today so …” His voice trails off. He expects Jean to say no. After all, he had warned Eren to avoid Mikasa as much as possible.

“Fine,” Jean finally says. When Eren looks at him, Jean’s shoulders are slumped in defeat. His eyebrows are still knit together and Eren can tell that Jean doesn’t like the idea one bit, but it doesn’t matter. Jean said he could go, so Eren is going to that dinner. “But I’m coming with you,” Jean says firmly.

Eren begins to whine. “You don’t have to babysit me,” he begins, but Jean isn’t listening.

“Yes, I do,” Jean replies. There’s something authoritative in his voice. It makes Eren’s toes curl and his cheeks flush, but it might be because Jean’s busily rewrapping the zombie’s scarf around his neck.

“Cute,” Mikasa says as she distractedly checks her phone. She taps something on it before tucking it back into the pocket of her coat. “Let’s head over then. My girlfriend said she’d meet us there.”

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

The meat at the barbecue house is much better than Eren remembers. It’s strange, but becoming a zombie has given him a much more refined palate when it comes to eating meat. He can tell if poultry is free-range with just a taste, if cows were fed more than just corn for their diet before they were slaughtered, and if pigs were allowed to roam and scavenge for food instead of just eating feed before they were turned to bacon. He tries to explain this to his friends at times, but they never really get it. To them, meat is just meat. Sometimes, Eren can’t believe he had once lived as ignorantly as them.

Mikasa sits across the table and observes as Jean feeds Eren another piece of barely cooked meat. She looks at him curiously. “You like your meat rare, Eren?” Her tone isn’t judgemental in the least, but it still makes Eren nervous.

“Y-yeah.” Eren forgets to chew the last piece of beef and accidentally swallows it too early. It gets stuck in his throat halfway and he starts to choke. He begins to pound on his chest to free his windpipe but a glass of water appears in front of him. Eren takes it and eagerly drinks it until the beef goes down.

“It’s a taste he acquired when he was traveling,” Jean says. Unlike Eren, he hasn’t eaten much. He’s eaten a few well-cooked pieces here and there, but he’s mostly been feeding Eren and ordering more food from the menu when their plates begin to empty.

“Ah, interesting,” Mikasa says as she nibbles on a piece of Hawaiian pork belly. Even though the meat glistens with fat, Eren can’t stand the sweet marinade that coats it and the pineapples that come with the slices of pork belly. It’s just too … sacrilegious to ruin a piece of meat like that. Eren doesn’t know how Mikasa is able to continuously eat piece after piece of that tainted pork belly.

Eren laughs nervously and puts his hands in his lap. He fiddles with the buttons on his coat. As much as he wants to shove the beef tongue that had just arrived into his mouth, he knows he shouldn’t. He needs to appear normal. He clears his throat. “When is your girlfriend coming?” Eren asks with a slight wince. He shouldn’t have eaten so much when Mikasa’s girlfriend hasn’t even arrived yet.

“Should be any minute,” Mikasa says. She puts a piece of meat on Jean’s plate and gestures for him to eat too. Jean, however, doesn’t even bother to crack a smile. “You guys should just eat up. She really won’t mind.”

Jean pushes the pork belly around his plate with his chopsticks. He doesn’t make any move to pick it up or eat it. “We might head out soon if you don’t mind. I have to be out early tomorrow and Eren likes to prep at night,” Jean says. He doesn’t make any eye contact with Mikasa. “We’ve had more than enough to eat already.”

A whine begins at the back of Eren’s throat but Jean subtly stomps on the zombie’s toes and the sound dies midway.

“Yeah, we should get going,” Eren squeaks as he hunches over in pain.

“Ah, alright then,” Mikasa says with a frown. She doesn’t notice that someone is walking up behind her and doesn’t notice until the person has thrown their arms around her waist. Mikasa looks up in surprise. “Historia!”

The name makes the blood freeze in Eren’s veins. He takes a better look at the woman who has thrown her arms around his new coworker and finds that it is indeed his ex-girlfriend. She still has the same large blue eyes and heart-shaped face, same petite frame and golden blonde hair, same pale pink lips and a cupid’s bow that looks as if it were sculpted by a god. There are things that are different about her since Eren had seen her last: her hair falls down to her shoulder blades instead of at her shoulders, her face is a bit thinner, and she wears an ensemble suited to that of a strict businesswoman when previously her wardrobe was hyper-feminine. It’s so … strange to bump into her like this.

Eren stumbles up from his seat in surprise. “Historia,” he says even as Jean is tugging at his sleeve and hissing at him to sit down. “What are you doing here?” He knows that his friends have mentioned Historia had given up on him after he had disappeared for a year, but he still feels the need to run a hand through his hair. He hopes his makeup hasn’t smudged and that he doesn’t look too unkempt.

Historia’s arms fall away from Mikasa’s waist and she looks at Eren. She doesn’t seem to recognize him at first, eyes narrowing at him as she tries to place exactly where she had seen him, and then her eyes widen in recognition. “Eren?” Her head turns towards Mikasa so quickly that Eren’s surprised that her neck hasn’t snapped. “You didn’t tell me Eren was your new coworker. Or that he came back to town.”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” Mikasa says. She pulls out the chair beside her and gestures for Historia to take a seat. Once Historia sits down, Mikasa rubs gentle circles on the blonde’s lower back. “Aren’t you glad he’s alive?”

Eren falls back in his seat in shock, too stunned to pay attention to the conversation Mikasa is having with Historia. He lowers his head and mumbles to Jean, “What the fuck is Historia doing here?”

“I tried to warn you not to hang around Mikasa,” Jean says in a low voice so that only Eren can hear. His teeth are gritted together in a pained smile. “In case you haven’t connected the dots … Historia is the girlfriend Mikasa has been talking about.”

It all makes sense now, Eren thinks, why Jean had wanted Eren to avoid the field reporter so desperately. Whenever Eren had asked if Jean had dated Mikasa or had any romantic interest in her, Jean and his friends had vehemently denied it. Eren had thought they were lying to him but he realizes now that it was because they were telling the truth — and also hiding a more shocking secret about Mikasa from him. Eren would be angry, but he’s too stunned to feel anything but numb.

“Well, it’s good to see you, Eren. I’m relieved to see that you’re alright,” Historia says, but it’s as if she’s talking underwater. Eren can barely register what she’s saying.

“He went on a spontaneous trip, he said,” Mikasa explains as she begins to feed Historia a strip of pork belly that was still sizzling from the grill.

“Oh?” Historia sits closer to the edge of her seat. It looks as if she’s about to ask for details, but Jean is standing up and ushering Eren out of his seat.

“We’ll fill you up on the details another night, Historia. We have to head out right now, but it was nice meeting you.” Jean wraps an arm firmly around Eren’s waist and subtly guides him towards the exit. “Lovely seeing you as always. Let’s do this again sometime.” He doesn’t wait for the couple to respond before he hurries Eren out the door.

The only sound as they walk is the clomp of their boots against the sidewalk. Eren can’t begin to ask the questions running through his head. He knows that even if he did, Jean would be in no mood to answer them. This entire scenario is what Jean had been trying to avoid in the first place. Eren knows that Jean is just waiting for them to return home so the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “I told you so.” It comes as a total surprise when those aren’t the first words Jean says to him.

“Are you okay?” Jean asks as they make their way back.

“I’m … fine,” Eren says even though he isn’t remotely okay. He knows that his tone is far from convincing, but he doesn’t want to dive into this tonight. “Can we stop by the office? I want to grab my camera and edit some of my pictures tonight.”

“You don’t want to rest?” Jean asks. He leans forward and tries to get a better look at Eren’s face, but the zombie pulls his scarf over his face.

“I’m not that tired,” Eren mumbles into his scarf. That isn’t a lie, not really. He could sleep if he wanted, but he’d rather stare at the screen and click mindlessly, making minuscule edits to his photos that people will barely notice. It would help distract him from all the thoughts swirling through his head at least.

It’s been rough returning here. Everyone Eren runs into is a reminder of everything he’s missed since he disappeared. His friends seem perfectly content with living in their small town even though all Eren had ever talked about after college was finding a job in the big city and moving away. His mother looks older and smaller than he remembers even though she had stayed the same all his life. Even Historia had changed, moved on with someone else while Eren was buried in the ground. How had everyone continued to live while he was frozen six feet under?

“It’s not like I expected everyone to wait for me while I was gone. I know it’s not anyone’s fault,” Eren says when they reach the gates of the newspaper building. His hands are balled up in frustration. “But … you don’t know what it’s like to lose everything so suddenly and come back to see that everything has changed.”

Jean stops in his tracks and when Eren looks back he sees the makeup artist with a stunned expression on his face. “Eren,” Jean says. He almost seems … hurt. “We lost you. For an entire year.”

Eren doesn’t have a response to that. He fiddles with the end of his scarf uncomfortably and then ducks his head before hurrying into the office. Thankfully, Jean doesn’t follow him.

The office is empty when Eren flicks the lights on. He mumbles to himself as he walks down the row of cubicles, muttering about what a terrible night this has been. Just when he was feeling normal, Historia showed up and reminded him that he’s not normal and that he can never return to where he once was. He doesn’t even want to think about everything that could have been if he hadn’t gotten murdered that night: if he could have found a job outside of this town, if he could have moved into the city, if he and Historia could have still been together. It’s useless anyway.

Eren finds his empty cube and pulls open one of the drawers, riffling around its contents with one hand. Oddly, there are papers he doesn’t remember placing in his cabinet. He takes another look and realizes that it’s not his cube, but Mikasa’s that he’s wandered into. Their cubicles really look too similar because Eren’s is practically empty and Mikasa has no personal items on her desk to differentiate it from Eren’s.

The zombie is about to shut the drawer and grab his camera at his desk, but something in the back corner of the drawer catches his attention. Curious, Eren reaches for it and pulls out a cell phone. He thinks it’s strange because he distinctly remembers Mikasa using her phone at the restaurant earlier that night. He turns the phone in his hand and the thought that this phone is somehow familiar to him flashes through his mind. He glances at the screen and sees a crack on it that looks exactly like the one on his old phone. The phone he had lost when he had been murdered in the forest.

But how would Mikasa have my phone? Eren thinks. The idea is so bizarre that Eren is about to put the phone back where he had seen it, but then … Mikasa is new in town. She’s only been here for a year at most. Even if everyone else knows her … how well do they really know someone who has only been here a year?

Eren’s hands hover over the power button and, hands shaking, presses it down with his thumb. The screen lights up as it powers on and a few seconds later the lock screen appears. It’s a forest that looks exactly like a picture Eren took hiking once. That has to be a coincidence though. All forests look the same … right?

The phone asks for his fingerprint. Eren’s almost too scared to scan his finger. If it does turn out to be his phone, this only implies that his murderer is … But that’s impossible, Eren thinks. He hadn’t known Mikasa when he died. She would have no reason to kill him. He’s just being paranoid and he can prove that he’s just overthinking all of this strange coincidence with Mikasa and her phone that looks exactly like his old one if he just presses his index finger to the scanner and ...

It unlocks, much to Eren’s surprise. It has all of his old apps on there including Angry Birds which he stopped playing in high school and only kept installed for nostalgia. It’s his phone. And Mikasa had it. And there really isn’t any explanation for it except one.

“Eren?”

Eren drops the phone back into the drawer and slams it shut. When he turns around, he sees Mikasa walking towards him with a confused smile on her face.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

Eren stands up and stumbles out of her cubicle. “Er, n-nothing!” Eren quickly goes to his cube and pretends to rifle through his few belongings before pulling his camera out of his drawer. “I just … changed my mind and wanted to work on some of my photos tonight. Just wanted to … be productive.”

“Oh, you’re so hardworking. I actually left some papers I wanted to look over tonight too,” Mikasa laughs as she goes into her own cubicle and pulls open the cabinet that Eren had gone through only a few minutes before. She frowns when she sees the phone out of place, but she shoves it back into the drawer and pulls out some papers instead. Mikasa shoves the papers into her bag and smiles at Eren. She doesn’t seem to see the perspiration forming on his forehead or his nervous, rigid stance. “Well, we should head home so we can rest. Don’t work too hard.”

“Haha, yeah,” Eren laughs, but it sounds so forced.

The two walk out together and Eren finds Jean chatting politely with Historia. While it might have bothered him earlier, Eren is too preoccupied with his new finding to pay any attention to his ex-girlfriend right now. He’ll worry about it later. Right now, he has to tell Jean something.

He hardly bids the two women goodbye, instead tugging his fake boyfriend by the sleeve and walking hastily towards their apartment.

“Eren, I know you’re upset, but that was really rude,” Jean hisses, but he allows Eren to pull at his sleeve and doesn’t pry the zombie’s hand off. Jean had attempted to wave goodbye, but it wasn’t enough to ward away the amused glances that Historia and Mikasa shot each other as the zombie and makeup artist hurried home.

“This is important!” Eren insists, still pulling Jean. “But I can’t tell you here.”

Jean only sighs and allows Eren to lead him to their apartment. At their quick pace, it only takes them a few minutes to get there and Jean sighs tiredly as soon as they’re inside.

The makeup artist shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack. He begins to unbutton Eren’s coat too, but Eren doesn’t even move his shoulders back to make it easier for Jean to peel the coat off. “Can you …? Ugh,” Jean huffs as he moves Eren’s arms himself and pulls the coat off. “What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?”

“I think,” Eren says, tugging at the end of his scarf nervously. He takes a deep breath and tries again. Jean is busy trying to unwind the scarf around Eren’s neck but the zombie puts his hands firmly on Jean’s shoulders so that he has all of the makeup artist’s attention. “I think … I think Mikasa killed me.”

[silverlightqueen]

Fallen

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

angel!felix x demon!reader - comedy, fluff, felix worrying about losing his job as an angel lmao 

Word Count: 2.4k+

Summary - Felix is an angel. Literally. Like, from Heaven. And he’s the best at being one. Never has he let temptation lead him astray. Never has he stopped before doing what is right. Never has he abandoned his assigned humans, even those that provide the most challenge. He’s never stepped a toe out of line, always kept his crush on a particularly annoying demon a secret. That is, until, he wakes up in the bed of said annoying demon with lipstick stains on his skin and his halo a little crooked.

Warnings: explicit discussion of sex, making out, that’s it I think but let me know if I missed something please!

this is dedicated to the lovely @brinnalaine​ for being such a supportive sweetheart, so I hope you enjoy this little fic about our sunshine!

a/n: and here is the sixth instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I’m sorry it’s so late in the day but I’ve spent all day at a theme park scarefest getting terrorised by clowns and dolls in terrifying mazes lmao. @silverlightprincess​ hasn’t actually proofread this but she proofreads everything else so I still want to thank her for being the best! I really hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write. please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken​ @cloudsgathering​ @silverlightprincess

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I wake up with something heavy on my face and a dizzy head from my mouth and nose being blocked. I try to take a deep breath and, instead, end up inhaling something soft and wispy, making me choke. I sit up suddenly, pushing the heavy thing off me with effort as I splutter, trying to empty my mouth of whatever it is that’s invaded it. And then I reach a finger into my mouth and end up pulling out feathers. Pure white and fringed feathers.

‘Did you just shove my wing, y/n?’ I hear Felix’s deep morning voice mumble into his pillow, and I shoot his back a dirty look, fishing his stupid feathers out of my mouth and trying to ignore the way I get butterflies in my stomach at hearing him say my name with that voice of his. He’s got his massive wings out for some stupid reason, one of them taking up my side of the bed whilst the other hangs over onto the floor. His hair, a lovely soft blond colour, is a fluffy mess on the pillow, and I can feel the heat that his body radiates despite only having the covers up to his hips, the band of his underwear just about visible.

I’ve been running into Felix quite a bit in the last few months – somehow he was always being assigned to humans in areas that I was… terrorising people in. Angels and demons have always had a… rocky relationship, but Felix was too pure, too kind, too sweet for me to be a bitch to him like I’ve been to all the other angels I’ve encountered. So I put up with his annoyingly sunny presence and his random acts of kindness and him stopping me from feeding on humans because ‘they haven’t done anything wrong!’ After him starving me for months, I got fed up and made a deal with him. I would scare the shit out of people to feed on them, and he would erase their memories so they wouldn’t be scarred for life. We became a… partnership of sorts, making me the most well-fed demon and him the highest achieving angel. To celebrate our successes, I took him to a new trendy bar last night and we got super drunk on fruity cocktails. And here we are now, with my cute red dress on the floor next to his black jeans.

‘Yes. I did. Because it was on top of me, suffocating me, and now I have a mouthful of your dumb feathers. Why are they even out? Put them away please?’ I ask harshly, injecting more annoyance into my voice than I feel, and Felix sighs, rolling his shoulders without moving from his position of being sprawled out on his front in my bed, and his wings slowly shrink, diminishing into his strong back, the only trace of them the two small bumps between his shoulder blades.

‘Don’t call my feathers dumb. I put a lot of effort into looking after them,’ he mumbles, voice still muffled in his pillow, and I roll my eyes, letting myself fall back against the bed. ‘Wouldn’t be able to tell. Coarse and ratty, they are,’ I tease half-heartedly, both of us knowing his feathers are softer than silk. ‘Like your hair,’ he replies in his wickedly deep voice, his amusement obvious in his tone, and I let out an outraged noise.

‘My hair is beautifully healthy, thank you. You should know – had your hands in it for hours last night,’ I pout, annoyed, as I pull the covers up around me, shivering. The room is absolutely freezing, due to the cold weather and the fact that I’m only in Felix’s thin white shirt and a pair of pants, so I can’t help but inch closer to him, his body radiating warmth. He doesn’t reply, but I don’t have any objections. I like my lazy morning lie-ins and it’d be nice to get a couple more hours of sleep.

‘Oh, shit,’ he says a few minutes later, sounding wide awake now, just as I’m beginning to drop off back to sleep, and I let out a loud huff of annoyance. ‘What?’ ‘I slept with you,’ he says as though he’s just found it out, lifting his head up from the pillow and looking at me with wide eyes. ‘Did you forget? I thought it was pretty memorable,’ I say offhandedly, amused. ‘It was. But I… I slept with you,’ he says, turning over and staring up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. ‘Right. I’m confused,’ I say, wondering if he’s lost his mind or something. My pussy’s good, but not that good. Or maybe it is? God knows. Actually, let’s hope God doesn’t know. She’ll probably kill Felix. Oh, right. I get why he’s freaking out now.

‘Oh, no. Angel boy’s having a mental breakdown because he fucked a demon, and God’s not gonna be happy,’ I tease in a light voice, holding back my laughter, and Felix sits up in bed, looking distraught. ‘She’s gonna kill me. She will actually kill me,’ he says quietly before dropping his head into his hands with a dramatic fake sob. ‘Oh, calm down. She doesn’t even need to know,’ I say, immensely amused, and Felix turns to me with distraught eyes. ‘She’ll know!’ ‘How? Unless one of us tells her, she won’t know,’ I say pointedly, telling him to keep his mouth shut but in nicer words.

‘But… she’s God. Won’t she just know?’ he asks, eyes wide like an innocent little kid, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re not the first angel I’ve fucked, Lix.’ ‘I’m not?’ he asks, sounding sceptical, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘Don’t sound so disbelieving. But, anyway, she’s never found out about those before. As long as you don’t blab, it’ll be fine,’ I say, and he nods, looking like he’s on the verge of tears.

‘Lix, relax. Stop panicking. You’re ruining the morning-after mood,’ I say softly after a minute of him just staring at the wall unseeingly. I slide my arms around his waist, pulling him down to lie beside me, and I curl into him instantly, revelling in the warmth of his bare skin. His arm comes around me, holding me against him, and I can sense him relaxing a little. I lay a hand on his chest, over the red lipstick marks that stain his skin, drawing patterns with my fingers, and after a few minutes, he puts his hand over mine, making me look up at him.

He takes me by surprise when he leans down and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. My eyes flutter shut after the initial surprise, and I melt into him, hand sliding up from his chest to around the back of his neck, the short soft hairs at the nape of his neck tickling the pads of my fingers. His velvety lips are firm against mine, our mouths moving in sync, and I let out little breaths and whines against his mouth as his hands leisurely travel over my body, giving me butterflies in my stomach when his tongue slides into my mouth.

We break apart after a few minutes, the kiss leaving me breathless, and his lips quirk up in an amused grin. He might be the most angelic… angel in Heaven, but he touched me, kissed me, fucked me like a demon. ‘You’re cute,’ he murmurs, briefly pressing his lips to my forehead, and I try to ignore the little thrill in my chest, pouting at him instead. ‘I’m an evil demon that feeds on human fear. I’m not cute,’ I mumble, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘You are. You’re a cute evil demon that feeds on human fear,’ he replies with a grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘Shut it, angel boy, you’re the cute one here.’ ‘Here I was thinking you found me sexy.’ ‘In your dreams, Lix,’ I murmur amusedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Not what you were saying last night.’ ‘…Shut up.’

He laughs at me, pulling me closer to him, and I feel warm and secure in his arms. His angel aura is definitely shining through – it feels like nothing could harm me if he’s here. We cuddle in a comfortable silence, his fingers running through my hair soothingly, and my eyes flutter shut after a little while, slumber beginning to take me. ‘What happens now?’ he murmurs, bringing me back from my snooze, and I resist the urge to put my fist through his chest.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, suppressing a yawn, and he sighs gently as I move off him, lying beside him so I can look him in the eyes. ‘Where do we… go from here?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Um… you go back to Heaven and I go back to Hell,’ I reply, knowing that that’s not the kind of answer he’s looking for, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You know I don’t mean location. I mean… with us,’ he says tentatively, and I don’t react for a moment. ‘Are you asking me what we are?’ I ask, a little stunned, and he nods, looking like he wished he never asked.

‘We’re an angel and demon that have teamed up for our own interests, and we got drunk and slept together, which won’t affect our business partnership. Right?’ I say slowly, and I feel guilt twist in my heart when the hope disappears from his pretty brown eyes. ‘Right. Yeah. I just thought…’ he trails off, turning onto his back and not looking at me. ‘Thought what?’ I ask carefully, and he’s silent for a moment before sighing. ‘I thought that maybe it was something more. I mean… we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I guess I have a bit of a… crush on you?’ he stammers, ending his sentence as a question as though he’s not quite sure.

He’s still not looking at me, and the words hit me like a ton of bricks. Felix, God’s favourite angel, has a crush on me, Lucifer’s favourite girl and a princess of the 9th circle of Hell? I’m not quite sure how to react to the words, just blinking in surprise for a moment. ‘You have a crush on me? Are you sure?’ I ask, and he lets out a little laugh, eyes still on the ceiling. ‘Yep, pretty sure. I’ve had a few months to think about it,’ he says offhandedly, and my mouth falls open. ‘You’ve had a crush on me the whole time?’ I demand, and he finally looks at me, nodding sheepishly.

‘Why didn’t you say anything, stupid?’ I exclaim, hitting his chest gently, and he lets out a light chuckle. ‘I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.’ ‘What friendship?’ I ask jokingly, and he looks at me deadpan. ‘Sorry. But seriously, are we, like, high schoolers? No. We’re centuries old supernatural beings. If you had a crush on me, you should’ve just told me, and taken me on a date. What is wrong with you?’ I demand, and he blinks at me several times. ‘Did you just say I should’ve taken you on a date?’ he asks, stunned, and I let out an annoyed noise. ‘Yes, keep up.’

‘But… you’re a demon, and I’m an angel.’ ‘Forbidden romances are better than normal ones. Like Cleopatra and Mark, Tristan and Isolde, Pyramus and Thisbe, Romeo and Juli-’ ‘Every one of those couples had a tragic end,’ Felix says dryly, an amused smile on his face, and I roll my eyes. ‘They were mortal, and were forbidden by their parents. It’s different.’ ‘Oh, yeah, we have God and Lucifer to deal with instead,’ he says sarcastically, making me raise an eyebrow. ‘Lucifer won’t care. It’s God that’s the issue. An easily solvable issue,’ I grin, and his face falls.

‘Are you plotting against God?’ he demands, looking completely outraged. ‘Don’t look so shocked, it’s not blasphemy for me. I’m a demon, stupid. But, no, I’m not plotting against her. I’m just gonna… talk to her,’ I say mildly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re gonna… talk to God? To get her to let us date?’ he asks, sounding disbelieving, and I nod simply. ‘She’ll kill you,’ he replies, eyes sparkling with mirth, and I just grin. ‘I think you’ll find I can be quite… persuasive,’ I reply, dragging my fingertips across his chest gently, the feeling of my long red nails lightly scraping his skin making his amusement disappear, a shaky breath leaving his lips. He blinks a few times, knocking himself out of his little trance. ‘I’m not sure trying to seduce her will work,’ he says lightly, and I smirk at him. ‘Oh, I know. I’m planning something else for her. It’s you I’m trying to seduce,’ I murmur, resting my thumb against my lower lip with a small smile, making my eyes all big, and I see him visibly gulp.

‘It’s working,’ he says distractedly, sliding his arms around me and pulling me on top of him, and I meet his mouth in a kiss, unable to keep the grin off my face as our lips move against each other in a way that numbs my mind. ‘Wait, wait,’ he says after a few seconds, breaking away from me. ‘Does this mean you like me too?’ he asks, looking hopeful, and I think for a moment. ‘You’ve got potential. You’re… handsome, and your personality isn’t totally annoying,’ I admit begrudgingly, heart skipping a beat at the big smile that comes across his face. ‘But,’ I add, making his smile fall a little, ‘some of the appeal is the fact that you’re a pure soul, a heavenly little angel, and I’m quite the opposite. I wanna knock your halo off, angel boy, so you better hope I don’t get bored when I’ve done so.’

He doesn’t react with the hurt I expected, a small smirk playing at his lips instead, and before I can realise that we’re moving, he’s rolled us over, his body hovering over mine. His locks fall over his eyes, casting shadows across his face, and his grin makes him look more like the demons I walk among than the angel he truly is. ‘Don’t worry about getting bored, y/n,’ he murmurs in his sinfully deep voice, one of his hands coming to rest at the base of my throat and making my skin burn hot with desire. I can’t help but mirror his grin, impressed at this very out of character behaviour. ‘Why not, Lix?’ I ask teasingly, and he just smirks, hand tightening at my neck, his sparkly eyes locking with mine. He captures my mouth in a passionate and desperate kiss, murmuring against my lips; ‘I’ll keep you entertained.’

[artificialqueens]

Taste Your Beating Heart, Chapter Two (Taywhora) - Holtzmanns

Aurora had never really believed all the stories about monsters that her sister would tell her when she was little. She’d never been scared of horror movies, always snickering when others would be shrieking and covering their eyes in fear.

Up until now, she hadn’t believed any of it to have a vein of truth, anyway.

But now? Well, she often has Tayce in her kitchen sipping from a travel mug that smells just a smidge metallic. She’s noticed how Tayce’s fangs sometimes peek out when she’s excited about something, along with the red eyes that hide behind Tayce’s green contacts, the ones that kind of suit her face, in a way.

Truthfully, Tayce doesn’t match the description of monsters that she’d heard about when she was little.

AN: Thank you so much for the wonderful response on the first chapter! This verse didn’t feel like leaving my head anytime soon, so here’s 6k more of it. I’m not sure how much of a multichap this fic will be rather than loosely connected chapters in the same verse, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you to my number one Writ for betaing and helping me brainstorm/talk through plot points, also Pop for catching my North Americanisms and Ortega for checking over Lawrence dialogue I appreciate you all. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Aurora had never really believed all the stories about monsters that her sister would tell her when she was little. She’d never been scared of horror movies, always snickering when others would be shrieking and covering their eyes in fear.

Up until now, she hadn’t believed any of it to have a vein of truth, anyway.

But now? Well, she often has Tayce in her kitchen sipping from a travel mug that smells just a smidge metallic. She’s noticed how Tayce’s fangs sometimes peek out when she’s excited about something, along with the red eyes that hide behind Tayce’s green contacts, the ones that kind of suit her face, in a way.

Truthfully, Tayce doesn’t match the description of monsters that she’d heard about when she was little.

It’s not as if Aurora’s blind. She’s seen Tayce come back from her hunts, how her clothes are spattered with blood that she sheds in a pile on the floor. She’s noticed the way the muscles ripple along Tayce’s arm when she reaches for something. The way Tayce’s glance on her sometimes lasts just a little bit too long, dropping from her eyes to her lips - no, lower than that.

To her neck.

But hey, if Tayce had plans to kill Aurora, she’d have done so already, right? Rather than getting to know what Aurora likes and dislikes and often walking her back from the studio late at night (‘to protect you from the monsters, of course,’ as if Tayce isn’t one herself), and picking up Maccies for her when she hasn’t eaten in hours because she’s going cross eyed while looking at her dress form.

Four months of knowing Tayce and nearly four months of…whatever this is between them, and Aurora’s still alive. Sadly. Still working away on her graduate collection, and she still has to complete all of the looks and plan direction for the show and figure out makeup and hair and-

Well, her heart’s beating fast enough from the stress of thinking about it that she knows she’s still living. Uni can’t be over quickly enough.

“Why’re you pouting at the sewing machine like it’s insulted your nan?”

Tayce is lying on the floor with her legs propped up on the wall, her face inquisitive, and Aurora raises her eyebrows at the position. Truth be told, Tayce moves quietly enough and Aurora’s been toiling away at the fabric in front of her for long enough that she hadn’t even noticed.

“Is that even comfortable?”

Tayce wiggles her legs in the air, reminiscent of a ladybird turned on its back. “Very. Though you’re pulling the vibe down with that grumpy face. Time to turn that frown upside down, baby.”

Aurora has to ignore how Tayce saying ‘baby’ makes her stomach flip, especially when Tayce probably peppers it into conversation with everybody. Doesn’t mean she’s special, even if they’re together. Are they?

“It’s five weeks until the show. I may die and decompose before getting all of this done in time.”

“Look at me. I’m four hundred and a bit and still fresh as a daisy. You’ll finish this all with time to spare. It’ll be lush!” Tayce murmurs as she comes up behind her, the hairs on the back of Aurora’s neck rising when Tayce leans down to wrap her arms around her from behind.

Aurora leans backwards into the hug, sighing. This whole collection would be a lot easier if the patterns and fabrics on the table front of her could just pull themselves together on their own. “Easy to keep from decomposing when you’re a vampire and all that, no?”

“I prefer the term creature of the night,” Tayce says, and although she’s behind her, Aurora can almost picture the mischievous grin on her face. “More dramatic.”

Aurora wrinkles her nose. “Aren’t those prostitutes?”

“Those are ladies of the night. Though I did dabble in that back in the twenties. Really droll, actually, taking all of money from men before-”

“Before you sucked them dry, yeah, yeah. You know, sometimes I forget how ancient you are, until you use words like ‘droll’ in actual conversation,” Aurora finishes, snorting when Tayce comes around to the other side of the table with an indignant expression.

“Oi, watch it, you hound,” Tayce sniffs, but there’s no vitriol in her statement, really. “Pfft, ancient. Please. If anything, I’m young as far as vampires go.”

“I’m sure you are - hold this up for a second,” Aurora hands the prototype garment she’s working on to Tayce, walking around the table to her side.

Now that Tayce is holding it up, the pleats really could fold a little bit nicer, maybe she’ll have to take it in around the waist a bit more…

“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?” Tayce’s question cuts through her thought process, and Aurora’s not sure why she looks so incredulous, why she’s shaking her head just a little.

“What doesn’t?”

“This. All of this.”

Tayce gestures to herself with a little more force than necessary because it shifts the draping of the garment, and so Aurora taps her shoulder as she tuts.

“Oi, stop moving. All of what? Your inability to stand still for longer than twenty seconds? Because you can’t.”

Tayce huffs, her eyebrows pushing together in a frown that Aurora doesn’t really understand. “No. This. I could kill you right now, if I wanted to. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t want to then, isn’t it?” Aurora shrugs as she folds over the hem of the garment, because really, what can she even say?

Aurora’s self preservation instincts aren’t the strongest, not when she’s fine with putting herself in danger more times than not. What does it even matter, in the end? She’s still here, alive and kicking, somehow. Still with her graduate collection hanging over her head.

If Tayce would just go and suck her blood, maybe she won’t have to finish it.

Maybe she has no idea what they’re doing with each other, but at least Tayce is better than her previous ex. Fucking wanker. Tayce hasn’t ever laid hands on her like how he used to, and she doesn’t put Aurora down the way he did, and really, Aurora’s standards aren’t high. She can put up with Tayce having fangs.

Why should it even matter?

But apparently to Tayce it does, from the way that she purses her lips. “You really have no self preservation instincts whatsoever.”

“It’s a good thing I’m pretty then, yeah?”

“You should, though, you know that, right? Any normal human would care about staying alive.”

Maybe Aurora should. But would she really miss out on much if she didn’t? Besides, if she’s going to die one day, going at Tayce’s mercy doesn’t seem like a bad way to go.

“What, would you rather I leave your four hundred year old self alone in a nursing home and make a run for it? I’m nicer to the elderly than that.”

“The cheek!”

“Y’know this is inevitable, right? Bound to happen sooner or later. I can’t not meet your flatmates and coven.”

Tayce’s groan is dramatic enough to be worthy of a BAFTA. “Yeah, but I can absolutely put it off for as long as possible.”

“Seems like it’s not exactly possible anymore, is it?” Aurora raises an eyebrow, snorting when Tayce slumps even lower on the couch. “Not everyday that someone has the chance to celebrate their four hundred and seventh birthday.”

Tayce huffs, her lower lip pushing out in a pout. “You make me sound more ancient than the pyramids.”

“All the more reason to celebrate another lap around the sun.”

“Ugh,” Tayce grumbles. “This dinner is going to be a right mess.”

“As long as neither of them eat me for dinner, we’re going to be just fine,” Aurora grins, but the joke is lost on Tayce, who bites at her lip.

“I dunno if this is really a good idea, especially since you’re human. Not sure how Cara’s going to react being in your presence, really…” Tayce trails off, tapping her fingers on the back of the couch. “She’s already made fun of me enough for falling for you instead of, y’know, actually going after you like any self respecting vampire would.”

“Who needs dignity when you can have me?” Aurora flips her hair over her shoulder as she leans back against the couch, and Tayce’s eye roll is accompanied with a smile.

It’s still strange for Aurora to think of how close she had been to death just a few months ago. When Tayce hadn’t been a constant presence in her life, instead hunting for blood, and not just hunting anyone, but…had almost gone after her.

Tayce had full intentions to kill her, at the time, suck her dry with her fangs and all. The very same girl who shrieks in excitement whenever she sees a puppy on the sidewalk, and secretly is a cuddler who loves being the little spoon.

Quite paradoxical.

But the fact remains that Tayce hadn’t killed her, back then. She’d let Aurora live, and not only that, she’d come home with her that second night and kept her up until morning until they were both gasping, sweaty messes in the sheets and Aurora was pleasantly sore the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that.

Not that sex is the only shared connection between them, not by a long shot, even though Tayce is the best sex she’s had in years, maybe ever, not that she’d tell her that. But Tayce is more than that - she’s a constant who grounds her and gets her out of her head when she’s anxious and makes her loosen up when she’s stressed out with uni work with five minute dance parties.

Tayce isn’t the only vampire in London, though, not when she has an entire coven of vampire friends that Aurora is yet to meet. Friends that could quite easily kill her as well.

She’s charmed one vampire enough to let her continue to live. What’s three more?

Aurora nudges Tayce’s side nonetheless. “Hey, look at me. It’ll be fine. Besides, didn’t you say one of them was a vegan or something? That’s one down, right?”

Tayce sighs, shuffling on the couch so that her head is on Aurora’s lap, and Aurora can’t resist running a hand through her hair. “Bimini’s easy peasy to please. The rest of them are going to be a challenge.”

“As long as you don’t let them stick a straw in my arm and drink me like a smoothie,” Aurora snickers, though Tayce’s expression is pained, a little crease between her eyebrows as she frowns.

“Not funny.”

“Hilarious, actually.”

Tayce hasn’t told Aurora much about her flatmates, aside from the fact that Cara is practically her sister, that Bimini was once a renaissance painter’s muse, and that Lawrence really, really hates London. Every time Aurora tries to press Tayce further she just shrugs, saying she’ll see soon enough.

“I’ve threatened them enough over the last week that they’ll be on their best behaviour. Not that their standards are very high,” Tayce snorts.

Aurora raises an eyebrow. “And yours are? You tried to drink milk straight from the carton last week.”

“I just wanted to see if it still tastes like crap! And update, it does, really nasty. Gave me indigestion,” Tayce shudders, her nose scrunching as she pats her stomach.

“Doesn’t everything give you indigestion if you’re only supposed to drink blood?”

“A girl likes to experiment every now and then. Only blood for centuries gets really boring,” Tayce shrugs, lifting herself up so that she’s sitting beside Aurora once more. “But back to the others. I won’t let them hurt you, alright? You’ll be safe and sound with me.”

Aurora’s not one to overly worry about herself but the words are reassuring, nonetheless. There’s something about Tayce that makes Aurora trust her - maybe it’s the sincerity in Tayce’s eyes, the way they shine under the light on the ceiling. Maybe it’s the way Tayce grabs her hand and rubs little circles with her thumb, as if to drive the point home with the soothing motions despite the coolness of her touch.

Maybe it’s the fact that a part of Aurora really, really wants to see what protective Tayce looks like.

Aurora doesn’t have to wait for long, with Tayce’s birthday rolling around only a few days later. She’s a bundle of nerves from the moment that she wakes up in the morning, because she’s going to Tayce’s place for the first time and meeting her friends as if the two of them are a thing and fuck, what if Tayce doesn’t like her gift? What is one even supposed to give a vampire that’s hundreds of years old?

Certainly not anything you can find at a shopping centre.

But Aurora’s gift for her is wrapped up in a little box, and Tayce has always commented about how she loves Aurora’s creations for uni. She’s tried to guess Tayce’s measurements, and maybe they won’t be exactly accurate because she’s going off of the times Tayce has tried on the mockup looks she’s created for her graduate collection.

But maybe Tayce will like it.

The door swings open only a millisecond after Aurora rings the doorbell, a breathless Tayce on the other side with eyes slightly more crazed than usual.

“Is she here-”

“She’s here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let her in already-”

“Shh-shh-shh!” Tayce hisses over her shoulder, and Aurora has to resist the urge to stand on her tiptoes to peek behind her. “You’re supposed to be calm, remember?”

The hushed whispers behind the door make Aurora’s heart beat just a little bit faster in the milliseconds before Tayce opens the door. What if Tayce’s friends won’t like her? What if they think she’s awful because she’s human, what if they get Tayce to hate her, too-

“Oi, move over there, Bims. Hello. Lawrence. Only took eighty three years to finally meet you.”

A girl with a purple ponytail shoves past Tayce, sticking her hand out as if she’s a salesman. Her touch is as cold as Tayce’s when Aurora shakes it, her fangs on full display as she grins. The fluffy cardigan draped over her shoulders muffles the frightening effect just a little, enough to keep Aurora’s heart from beating even faster.

A head of yellow hair ducks under Lawrence’s arm, before straightening up beside Aurora on the front doorstep. “She’s right. You must be a cracking human if Tayce is this shy about bringing you home.”

“I’m not shy-”

“Meeting the family is a big deal. But don’t worry, we don’t bite. Well, not yet, anyway,” a third voice booms, followed by a cackle from inside the hallway.

Tayce lets out a pained exhale, and Aurora would laugh if her insides weren’t currently twisted into a ball of nerves. “Welcome to the clownery.”

Aurora can sense Tayce at her heels as they walk further down the hallway, the dark walls and antique furniture lining the rooms looking straight out of a period piece. She can feel her hair prickling along the back of her neck the further and further they go, and the lounge that they reach feels a few degrees colder than the temperature outside. Aurora suppresses a shiver as Tayce grabs her hand.

Is this what the main characters in horror movies feel like as the suspenseful music builds in the background?

They stop walking once they reach a sitting room, the embellished furniture straight out of a museum. There’s a grand piano in the far corner of the room, and the part of Aurora that doesn’t want to run for the hills wonders if Tayce knows how to play. Tayce’s friends sit themselves down on a sofa lined with velvet, one that Aurora really wants to reach out and touch. They’re graceful in their movements, the slightest crossing of legs or tucking of hair behind the ears somehow delicate, despite their foghorn voices.

Tayce tugs on her arm, pulling her down to join her on the loveseat across from her friends, and Aurora doesn’t miss the way they’re practically pressed up against each other. Tayce’s index finger draws patterns on Aurora’s knee and while the smile on her face gives nothing away, Aurora can see the way her eyes are darting around the room.

Aurora herself is close to fainting on the spot, that’s for certain, from the way that Tayce’s friends are looking at her. Yeah, their styles are rather eccentric and Bimini is most definitely wearing a poncho with a belt tied around the middle, but their looks are piercing. Not a soothing sight either when their eyes are bright red.

“I feel like I’m meeting the parents,” Aurora gets out, because she’s great at small talk, a master socializer. Absolutely about to win the three of them over.

“Feel like? You are,” the girl with the long ponytail is deadpan, and Aurora can’t help but gulp. So much for getting them to like her. “So, what are your intentions with our daughter?”

“You’re gonna fucking make her piss herself before she even has a chance to catch her breath, Cara,” Lawrence snorts, and Aurora wants to deny it, really, except for the fact that her hands are shaking just a bit.

Is it the fact that she’s in a house full of vampires, or a house full of new people to get to know? Aurora’s not quite sure. Hopefully they haven’t noticed her fear, if they’re even capable of smelling it. Maybe they’re not ones for going after easy pickings.

Bimini leans forward towards her, the fabric of her poncho rustling against the sofa. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t eat you. Fresh blood isn’t my thing.”

The vegan one. Or as far vegan as vampires can get, Aurora supposes, though it still does calm her beating heart just a little.

“So I’ve heard,” Aurora squeaks, though Lawrence and Cara’s faces morph into twin indignant expressions.

“Who says that we’ll be the ones to eat her? Absolutely no faith in us!”

“We have manners. Sometimes, at least. Besides, sucking your blood wouldn’t be worth it because it would make Tayce incredibly grumpy,” Cara snickers, nudging Lawrence’s side.

Lawrence’s grin is as mischievous as it is a little spooky, her fangs glinting under the light of the chandelier overhead. “She’s smitten, y’know. Truly smitten. With a human, of all creatures. No offense, of course.”

Part of Aurora wants to ask what’s wrong with being human, before catching herself. She doesn’t really need a visual demonstration to find out.

“None taken,” Aurora raises an eyebrow but there’s more important matters to think about, especially when Lawrence has gone and said that Tayce is smitten and when she looks over, she swears she can see a dust of pink along Tayce’s cheeks.

She’s never seen Tayce look shy before.

Lawrence, for her part, scoots forward on the couch, as if she’s been waiting to talk to Aurora about the subject for weeks. “We didn’t even have to meet you to know she’s head over heels for you. The girl won’t shut her mouth whenever she comes home, babbling on about oh, Aurora’s in fashion school, did you know, oh, Aurora and I went for a walk in the moonlight and I held her little hand-”

“Lawrence, one more word and I’ll rip your head clean off-”

“-as I was saying,” Lawrence continues, albeit a bit louder to drown out Tayce’s protests, “nothing to worry about with the three of us. You’re Tayce’s boo-thang, so you can stay alive for now.”

“Now where did you go and learn that word from?” Bimini asks, a genuine curiosity in their eyes as Tayce lets out a groan.

“Cara, obviously.”

“You lot are embarrassing. C’mon, Aurora, we’re leaving,” Tayce snorts, grabbing Aurora’s hand, and the chorus of objections from the couch is immediate.

“This is your house, idiot-”

“It’s your birthday dinner-”

“I like them,” Aurora hides a giggle behind her hand as Tayce rubs her own temples. “They’re as bonkers as you are.”

Tayce’s nose scrunches as she makes a face. “Who says I’m bonkers?”

It’s cute, though, the way Tayce is hiding a smile behind the exasperation lining her features. Her attachment to her friends is clear as day, and not something that Aurora is used to seeing. She’s had trouble finding a solid group of friends in uni, which isn’t the biggest shock on the planet considering how cutthroat the fashion industry is. Still, seeing the genuine affection as they tease each other tugs on Aurora’s chest for what she could have had in school.

Lawrence’s knowing expression, however, is enough to distract Aurora from the sense of longing that’s beginning to build, and she holds up a finger, pointing between her and Tayce. “Now this? I like this. Good vibes. Some tension.”

“We’re already together, you twit,” Tayce snorts. “There’s really not much investigating to do, is there?”

Together. Tayce has gone and said that they’re together. Together. Not that they’ve discussed it, really, but Tayce has told her closest friends that they’re together and Aurora really hopes that no one else has noticed the little gasp she’s let out under her breath, the smile she has to press her lips together to keep from revealing.

Aurora knows that they need to talk about it because they haven’t yet, not when they’ve fallen into an easy pattern that doesn’t make much sense to anyone looking at them from the outside, but they’ll do that eventually. They’ll figure it out. Aurora’s much less scared of the prospect now, knowing where Tayce stands.

She’s okay with them being considered together.

“You take the excitement out of everything,” Lawrence pouts, sticking her tongue out at Tayce as Bimini pats her shoulder.

“Speaking of excitement, you could really go and give Ellie a call, couldn’t you?” Tayce shoots back, and Lawrence’s eyes bug out of her skull almost comically.

“Who’s Ellie?”

Aurora can’t keep herself from asking the question, not when Lawrence is blustering over her words and Cara and Bimini have matching grins. Tayce has a smirk on her face as she clicks her tongue, shooting a pointed look towards Lawrence before she answers.

“Ellie’s her wife. And how long has it been exactly since you’ve seen her, Lawrence?”

“None of your bloody beeswax, is how long,” Lawrence mumbles, crossing her arms. “All hearsay, isn’t it?”

Bimini leans forward, a knowing look on their face. “The two of them got into an argument in the forties over who had to do the washing and Lawrence has been overstaying her welcome here ever since.”

“Dunno why I’m even staying here. Fucking hate London.”

“Wait. Since the nineteen forties?” Aurora can’t help the disbelief in her voice. “You haven’t been home in eighty years?”

Christ. Eighty years away from someone because of an argument? And here Aurora gets tired when her water takes too long to boil. She’s good at holding grudges, sure, but eighty years seems a tad overkill.

Lawrence shrugs, the unfazed expression on her face echoed on Tayce and Cara and Bimini. “S’about thirty seconds when you’re immortal. I’d hurry home if Ellie would go on and apologize, but she hasn’t. Stubborn woman.”

“Remind me, how do we know again that it’s not you who messed up? What if you’ve been the one who’s supposed to apologize to her this whole time?” Cara’s knowing grin makes it clear to Aurora that this is a conversation they’ve had many times before.

“I’d know if I’ve done something wrong, wouldn’t I?” Lawrence huffs. “Besides, I apologized last time.”

“For the old hens that they are, you’d think they’d get over their little bickering sessions a little bit quicker than they do, wouldn’t you?” Tayce murmurs into Aurora’s ear, and the tickle of her breath on her neck makes Aurora shiver.

“Well enough about me, isn’t it?” Lawrence stands up faster than Aurora sees her move, waltzing towards the doorway. “Isn’t this supposed to be a dinner?”

Aurora’s eyes widen as she shoots a glance at Tayce, who’s pressing her lips together to hide a smile. If Aurora’s honest with herself, she thought they wouldn’t be actually eating because, well…

Everyone else can’t, right?

“Why do you look like you’re about to faint?” Tayce asks, a hand on Aurora’s knee before she even has to say anything.

“I thought…I might’ve…”

“You ate already, didn’t you?” Cara’s knowing voice is filled with mirth and Aurora’s not sure why until-

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here I thought I’d finally have the chance to taste test my risotto with a human. D’you know how hard it is with vampires who don’t eat human food? Hm? And instead you already ate,” Lawrence’s grumbles from down the hall are interspersed with the clanging of pots, and Aurora looks at Tayce with a panic.

“You didn’t tell me there would be actual food!”

“Don’t be too alarmed by Lawrence’s yammering. She’d only decided on a whim earlier today that she wanted to break out the pots and pans for this shindig, anyway,” Bimini shrugs, as Aurora follows them and Cara towards the kitchen, Tayce just a step behind her.

“Lawrence is the only reason we still have a kitchen. I’ve been saying that this place could be spiced up by something more exciting, but no,” Cara grins, hopping onto one of the stools at the counter. “Lawrence likes to experiment, eat none of what she makes, and instead gives it to the elderly couple next door.”

“I’m Marge’s favourite for a reason, babes,” Lawrence calls out, stirring the risotto at the stove. “That and being a fellow Glaswegian, we’re better off sticking together.”

“Why don’t you get Marge to try your risotto, then?” Tayce points out, and Lawrence’s head shake is immediate.

“The woman hates rice. She’s too picky for her own good, that’s why I was excited for us to finally have a guest over.”

“I’d be happy to try a bite,” Aurora gets out before she can psych herself out of not saying anything.

Tayce turns towards her, a sympathetic look on her face. “Only if you want, don’t feel like you have to so that Lawrence is happy-”

Lawrence lets out a cheer that makes Aurora jump. “Excellent! Knew you’d come around.”

Aurora wants, no, needs them to like her. They’re Tayce’s friends, they’re important in her life and who’s to say their opinion can’t change Tayce’s mind about spending time with her? Aurora’s never been the best at getting a group of people to like her, when in school all she really did was clash with people that felt threatened by her. But Bimini, Cara, and Lawrence look at ease in the kitchen, casual conversation flowing in between them rather than the judgment that Aurora is used to being on the receiving end of.

Good to know she hasn’t mucked up anything yet.

Tayce walks her home that evening, their fingers brushing against each other for a couple blocks until Tayce grabs her hand outright. When Aurora looks over she’s smiling, pride decorating her features.

“Charmed them. Knew you would.”

“If I remember correctly, it was you who was more worried, not me,” Aurora points out, letting out a little squeak when Tayce swings their interlocked hands with gusto.

“Nah,” Tayce shrugs, “wasn’t worried about you. More so about the three stooges making absolute fools of themselves.”

“I liked them,” Aurora murmurs, looking down at the container of risotto tucked under her arm that Lawrence had insisted she take home. “They were all so nice.”

She doesn’t mean to let the marvel show through in her voice but she can’t help it, not when she thinks about the evening. Tayce’s friends, her coven, really, had all the reason to dislike her, being human and a new face and Aurora’s used to having to put guards up at first, when meeting new people.

But Cara and Bimini and Lawrence were as carefree and silly as Tayce is, and somehow even Cara’s story about hunting a man and cornering him behind an Aldi’s was charming, despite the fact that it made Aurora shudder a little. But hey, as long as it’s not her on the receiving end of Cara’s bite, she’s fine, right?

“They liked you, too.” Tayce, for her part, doesn’t sound surprised at all. “It’s a good thing I made them all go for a snack before dinner, isn’t it?”

“Are you saying they went to hunt before I came over so that they wouldn’t want to kill me?” Aurora yelps, and she can feel the little goosebumps that are rising on her arms.

It makes sense, when she thinks about it. They’re vampires, not humans. But still.

It makes the blood in her veins pump just a little bit faster.

“Bimini had an extra capri sun. I mean, a blood bag,” Tayce snorts, and Aurora lets out a weak laugh at the joke.

If they ever hang out with Tayce’s coven as a group again, she’s going to make sure that Tayce always reminds them to eat beforehand.

“Do you have to do that before seeing me?” Aurora can’t help the question as they reach her flat, rifling through her bag to find her keys.

Tayce, though, looks unfazed as she shrugs. “Used to. Humans smell good. You smell good.”

“Oh,” Aurora gulps. She’s not sure if she wants to hear more of the answer.

But Tayce’s eyes soften. “But that’s easily ignored. Besides, I like having you around. Drinking your blood would mean that I wouldn’t get to hear your uni tales or see your creations or hear about your day or have a cwtch on the couch with you while we watch movies. That choice is more than easy. So I don’t really have to pre anymore, ‘cause the fun of spending time with you outweighs any hunger by a long shot.”

“That’s sweet. I think?” Aurora’s not sure, not really, not when there’s no handbook on spending time with a killer.

It would be nice to know what to do. To balance the moral seesaw of knowing Tayce hunts humans, not often, but every now and then at least, along with the fear and thrill of knowing she was almost on the receiving end of it. Tayce’s company is comforting and terrifying all at once, a balance of driving a little too fast on the motorway while listening to soft, calming music. She’s a juxtaposition of calming Aurora’s insecurities while speeding her heart up a little bit too fast at the same time. It’s exhilarating yet confusing for Aurora’s brain to try and piece together, though she supposes she doesn’t necessarily have to. At least, not now, while climbing the stairs to her floor.

“I got you something,” Aurora starts as she unlocks her front door, ignoring the way the butterflies start to rise in her chest.

She’s waited until the end of the night to give Tayce her present just so that she could give it to her in private, not in front of her friends. If Tayce is disappointed, at least it won’t be as humiliating.

Hopefully she likes it.

“A present? A birthday present for little old me?” Tayce exclaims, jumping in place, and Christ, it’s never not adorable to Aurora how easily excitable she is.

“Well, it’s not my great aunt Pat’s birthday today, is it? It’s yours,” Aurora grins, following Tayce further into the flat.

Her studio sized space feels as big as a walk in wardrobe but it’s better than having shitty flatmates, like the girl she shared a place with during the last school year. Aurora’s never going to be able to look at lasagna the same way again, not after one had decomposed in their fridge when the girl had been too lazy to throw out her own leftovers. No, she likes having her own space. One that Tayce can spend time in with her, too.

Tayce reaches the gift box waiting on the counter before Aurora’s finished taking off her coat, eagerly tugging on the ribbons and wrapping paper and pushing the box open and-

“My god. It’s beautiful. You made this? I mean, obviously you made this, s’not going to be pulled off the rack at Selfridges, that’s for sure,” Tayce’s eyes are wide as they dart over the dress, the fabric pooling over her hands like liquid.

“D’you like it?” Maybe Aurora sounds a little too vulnerable, and maybe she doesn’t have to be, when Tayce scurries over to the full length mirror hanging on the closet door to hold the dress up.

“Like it? Are you joking? It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant. I’m never going to take it off and Cara’s going to have to confiscate it eventually to send it to the dry cleaners.”

Aurora can’t help the thrill that lights up her insides, despite the way her nose wrinkles because of the end of Tayce’s statement. She’d been worried, while stitching the dress, that maybe going for such a present would be too much too soon, when they’ve only been doing whatever this is for four-ish months. That maybe Tayce would be freaked out by a custom present so early when they haven’t even talked about what they are, and that perhaps it would be better to stick to something like a box of chocolates.

Not that Tayce can have chocolate. A fact that had helped the decision making process, really.

Tayce is wiggling out of her trousers and top before Aurora can say anything, stepping into the dress and…wow.

The pale fabric clings to Tayce’s figure perfectly, and Aurora’s glad she went for the full sleeves and the deep v neckline because it works perfectly with the cinching at the waist. The dress had looked okay on the dressform but on Tayce it looks almost ethereal, fuck, she’s ethereal.

“You’re going to catch flies if you keep staring,” Tayce’s comment is wry but there’s a delight in her eyes that Aurora catches, a little smile on her lips.

Aurora ignores the blush rising on her cheeks in favour of letting her eyes drag down Tayce’s form yet again. “You’re stunning, fuck. Can’t help it.”

“Who, me? You think so?” Tayce spins in place and Aurora has to resist the urge to bracket her hands on her waist, follow the curve of her hips.

“Well, now you’re just fishing for compliments,” Aurora smiles despite herself, her breath catching when Tayce takes a step closer to her.

Now would be the perfect time to ask, maybe broach the conversation a bit and ask what they are. See if Tayce has a plan because Aurora absolutely doesn’t, not when there’s no literature out there on dating someone who’s immortal.

Are they even dating? The two of them had skipped straight to sex and added cuddles into the mix rather than talking about it first. And as thrilling as it is, part of Aurora’s brain, the part that likes to nag, still wants to know, so that she can classify what they’re doing into a nice little box. There has to be a definition for charming a vampire into being her friend that she spends time in the sheets with and hand makes birthday presents for, right?

Tayce has a mischievous smile on her face, the kind where she’s trying to hide the upward curve of her lips but failing and where her eyes are sparkling bright. Maybe this good mood and post gift high is the time to bring it up, when her walls are already down.

“I…” Aurora has full intentions of continuing her sentence but Tayce is walking her back towards the bed, and oh, the backs of her thighs are hitting the mattress and Tayce is looking mighty proud of herself.

“I think someone deserves a thank you, don’t you?” Tayce grins, licking her lips and the sight in itself is almost mesmerizing. “I’d send a card, but that’s a little boring.”

“No card. We can skip that step,” Aurora breathes out milliseconds before Tayce nudges her back onto the bed, hiking the dress up around her thighs.

She sends a thank you to her past self for putting a slit in the front, keeping Tayce from accidentally ripping it with her movements. It would be a shame for the dress to fall apart in the first hour of Tayce wearing it.

Not that Tayce is going to keep it on for long, from the way she’s already leaning over Aurora, wasting no time in pressing a kiss to the column of her neck.

Really, Aurora can wait until another time to ask Tayce about what they are. She has more important things to think about, like Tayce’s fingers running through her hair and oh, the tug near her scalp that makes her inadvertently let out a moan and makes Tayce grin.

Yeah, there are prevalent things to focus on for now. No one’s ever said that Aurora doesn’t have her priorities straight.

AN: The dress Aurora creates for Tayce in this chapter is basically the one from this ig video. Gotta love real life inspiration! Find me at @plastiquetiaras on tumblr.

Tags: lesbian au, a'whora, tayce, druk, vampire au, taste your beating heart, holtzmanns

[lizzy-frizzle]

I just had to write the first date, so here it is~!

The First Date

Lizzy shows up in Reunion, she’s wearing the armor she wore while fighting Bahamut.

[It’s probably my nicest outfit? She’s a warrior, she’ll probably wear something similar.]

The two agreed to meet at reunion, and then leave from there. Since Sadu is unable to use aetherytes to teleport, Lizzy decided they can take a nice flight on their yol’s together to go to New Gridania.

Lizzy shifts uncomfortably, sitting on a rather rude rock.

[Why don’t they have benches here?]

It’s about midday, Lizzy wanted to leave early so that when they arrived in the shroud the sun would still be up. She wanted to make sure that when they’re walking through the Black Shroud the sun is setting. That’s the most beautiful time of day in the shroud.

That’s when Sadu showed up at Reunion. She was dressed in a traditional dress that Lizzy was unfamiliar with. Lizzy could feel her heart stop, along with her breath. Sadu looked a little uncomfortable in the outfit, not used to dressing up. Lizzy felt tremendously awkward for showing up in battle gear now.

“Hey, Lizzy,” Sadu said, tugging at the edges of her dress in a futile attempt to make it feel more comfortable, “I asked the mol for help, and they put me in contact with your scions, who told me to ask a short woman, Tataru? For help.”

[Ah, Tataru, that explains it.]

“You look,” Lizzy floundered for the correct words, “breathtaking.”

Lizzy looked down at her outfit and started feeling a little embarrassed.

Sadu looks Lizzy up and down, “I like your coat! There’s uh, some blood on it.”

Lizzy nearly covers her face in shame, “Oh gods, I missed a spot. Sorry, I wore this outfit when we fought the Elder Primal Bahamut, I don’t know who’s blood this is...”

Sadu’s face becomes one of that of curiosity, “Bahamut?”

[Does she somehow not know?]

Lizzy starts, “Oh, uh, Bahamut was this giant dragon that nearly wiped out Eorzea, he was reawakened kinda when me and Alisaie were poking around some old places.”

Sadu’s eyes widen, “You did it alone?”

“Ah no, there were a couple other adventurer’s, I’m not that strong.”

“I’m honored you would think to wear such an outfit around me.” Sadu admits, “So, this Gridania place, shall we go?”

“Yea,” Lizzy says, then her energy starts returning, “Yes! Uh, it’ll be a little bit of a flight, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

~At Rhalgr’s Reach~

“Hey, I wanna check out something real quick,” Lizzy says running over to a counter with some people dressed in strange outfits.

Sadu just watches and gets as close as she’s willing.

Lizzy appears to be looking at some necklaces, there’s one with a cloth band and some sharp angles as the focal point of the necklace.

Lizzy sighs, and walks toward Sadu, “It’s too expense, but I really want the Diamond necklace.”

Sadu stops for a minute, [Too expensive? People don’t just hand things to her? How disrespectful.]

Lizzy goes over to another counter and starts looking at other wares.

Sadu approaches the counter, and points to the necklace, “I’ll fight you for this!”

Gelfradus looks shocked for a moment, “Uh, miss, I’m certain you could kick my ass, but that’s not how we trade here.” he stops for a moment, Sadu doesn’t stop glaring, “I notice you’re a friend of Miss Lizzy, so how about I give you this instead, it looks identical to what you want, but I won’t lose as much profit. In return you don’t turn my face into mashed popotos.”

Sadu takes the necklace, and looks at it, then looks at the necklace Lizzy wanted, “Very well.”

They look similar enough, at least from what Sadu can tell, “Can you put something on it?”

~At New Gridania~

Lizzy and Sadu hop off their yols just outside the south gate, Sadu shifts nervously. Lizzy notices, and reaches for Sadu’s hand.

“Hey, this is your first city right?”

Sadu tries to force herself to relax, and initially doesn’t take Lizzy’s hand.

“It’s ok,” Lizzy reassures Sadu, “If people see you holding the Fierce Warrior of Light’s hand, they won’t think twice about you.”

Lizzy punctuates this with a giant smile.

Sadu reluctantly takes her hand, “Ok.”

Lizzy can feel how tense Sadu is through her hand.

“Relax, I’m here with you, and no one is going to bite.”

Sadu doesn’t relax, but she does walk a little closer to Lizzy.

The two wander through the streets, Lizzy shows Sadu all the hotspots. She shows her where Lizzy first became an adventurer, the Grand Company where she’s trained numerous people in her squadron. Sadu challenged each one to a fight, and promptly won against each one that accepted the challenge. They then went to the conjurer’s guild, where Sadu met Lizzy’s first mentor, E-Sumi-Yan. He was very intimidated by Sadu’s aura. They stopped at the amphitheatre, and luckily there was a play in practice. They didn’t stay long cause Sadu kept wanting to fight people that looked at her weird.

They approached the markets, and Sadu gripped Lizzy’s arm. The loud noises were a bit too much, and the crowds were a bit too overwhelming, so Lizzy decided to skip that one. Lizzy was hoping to buy Sadu something there, but decided it would be better to forgo it.

The two left New Gridania, and started wandering through the central shroud.

The sun started casting warm shadows across the area. With oranges and yellows mixing into a pure warmth when they struck your face. It was a calming time, They walked while discussing random things from their childhood, adventure’s they’ve been on, creatures they killed. Sadu eased up tremendously while they walked, opening up a lot more than Lizzy expected.

Then they entered the south shroud and the whole atmosphere had changed. It got dark, and the area had a heaviness to it.

“Ah, Odin again.” Lizzy stated as a matter-of-fact.

Sadu looked at Lizzy, “Odin?”

“Oh right, Odin is a primal, it appears randomly occasionally. I should probably go kill it real quick.”

Sadu’s eyes flared to life, “Can I help?”

Lizzy stopped slightly shocked, then realized, [Oh, right, warrior. Of course she’d wanna fight Odin.]

“Sure, it’ll be fun!” Lizzy starts running towards the source of the disturbance, Sadu following close behind, staff already drawn.

When they get to Odin, it’s standing there terrorizing some adamantoises.

“Alright Sadu, be careful, his attacks can be vicious.” Lizzy puts her ninja crystal in her pocket and pulls out a different one. Her outfit switches to robes and she pulls a book out. A glowing faerie appears out of nowhere. “I’ll make sure you’re as safe as I can, though.”

She concentrates on her book and Sadu feels a presence around her, “Ok Sadu, would you like to lead?”

Sadu begins casting a spell, as she starts, Lizzy also starts reading from her book. They finish their casts at the same time, and Odin is struck by two attacks at once in a flash of black and red. Odin casts out several swords towards the two, and one strikes at Sadu’s leg, it however is reflected off.

[A shield then?] Sadu thinks, as she summons several stones from the Steppe and begins casting Falling Dusk.

Lizzy sees Sadu concentrating on her Khun Chuluu, and prepares a strong shield and places sacred soil down under her. Then begins to try and distract Odin to give her more time. Odin spawns more swords, nearly breaking through some of Lizzy’s shields on Sadu, and tearing through her own, cutting her arm. Sadu’s spell completes, and a small meteor lands on Odin. The wind from the blast throws numerous innocent creatures back, but Lizzy and Sadu both stand where they are, watching the smoke clear, and a very dead Odin lay on the ground, before having it’s aether returned into the lifestream.

“See?” Lizzy gasps and winces at the wound on her arm, “Easy.”

Sadu walks over and inspects the wound, she tears off a strip from her dress, [Sorry Tataru.] Sadu begins wrapping Lizzy’s arm with it.

Lizzy could’ve healed herself, but decided this was nicer. She switches back with her ninja crystal, and sees the bandage and injury still in tact, but she doesn’t mind all that much.

The sky clears, and they notice that night is nearly on them.

Lizzy looks at Sadu, “That was fun, let’s go back to Gridania though before more things try to take my attention.”

They begin the walk back, Lizzy can’t help but notice how amazing Sadu looks under the moonlight, with the fireflies wandering among them. [This is perfect. I want this forever.]

When they return to Gridania, Sadu appears more relaxed this time, they sit just outside the Adventurer’s guild, their legs hanging off the cliff, as fireworks go off in the distance. They have a perfect view.

Lizzy had arranged for the fireworks show. Gil well spent, to be honest.

As they sit on the cliff side, their hands resting in each other. Lizzy spots a bit of cloth tucked under Sadu’s dress.

“Hey, what’s that?” Lizzy instinctively asks.

Sadu looks at where Lizzy was pointing, and noticed the necklace band hanging out. “Oh, uh.” she takes it out, and shows Lizzy, “I saw you wanted this, and since you took me on a pretty cool date, I just figured I should get you something, you know?” She fidgets in her spot, and tries to play it off as no big deal.

Lizzy turns to allow Sadu to put it on her.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Sadu asks.

“Oh, I just, thought” Lizzy starts blushing, “Well, I thought you’d like to put it on me, if that’s ok?”

Sadu blushes, and nervously brings it over Lizzy’s head. Then quickly goes back to looking at anything besides Lizzy.

“Thank you, it’s perfect.” Lizzy looks at Sadu watching the fireworks, each time one goes off she flinches, but looks in awe.

Lizzy looks down at the necklace and notices some writing on the backside. As she reads it she smiles.

~Back at Reunion~

Sadu hops off her yol, and turns to Lizzy, “This was a really nice night,” she starts to rub her arm, “I was really nervous cause this was my first date.”

Lizzy feels a wave of relief over her, “It was my first date too, if I’m honest.”

They stand in an awkward silence for a moment.

Sadu begins to speak, “So uh, goodnight then I guess,” she turns slightly, “I’d like...” Sadu takes a deep breath, and tries to reassert herself, “I want another date. Next one I get to pick.” She gets a fierce look in her eyes.

Lizzy can’t stop herself from her motions, and moves to hug Sadu. This time she doesn’t get flipped. Sadu however misread the motion again, and went in and kissed Lizzy.

They stand for what seems like an eternity in each other’s embrace, and when they part they both become extremely awkward and anxious.

The silence hangs as they fidget uncomfortably.

“Um, t-thanks” Lizzy splutters.

Sadu, flustered, responds, “You’re welcome.” And then runs off towards the Dotharl Khaa.

Lizzy collapses on the ground when Sadu is out of sight. Sitting down, all she can manage is to touch her lips with her fingers.

[The next date!]

[sailorbellewrites]

No Limit

characters— seokjin x reader (ft. members of bts)

summary— you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

information— one shot. bakery!au. features less puns than you would think. i am still very new to writing smut, so be kind in that regard. if this gets a lot of love, might be continued in the future.

warnings—adult language; smut; mild violence; awkward situations; super hopeless seokjin.

no limit—

So it starts like this:

Jungkook has been talking about his older sister moving to Seoul for a couple of weeks now and Seokjin doesn’t really believe him because in the 2 years that he’s known the college senior, he’s never mentioned having a sister, just an older brother. The young man only has pictures of his mom hung up in his apartment and all requests to see what the girl looks like have been met with a stern shake of his head. Taehyung has never seen the girl either, says Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about her and he doesn’t know why. He’s heard the girl over the phone though and says she sounds, “cute.” And while Namjoon is certainly right in saying it would be weird for Jungkook to make up having a sister, Seokjin thinks Jungkook is just a weird enough person to do it.

“She’s coming today, hyung,” Jungkook says one Wednesday afternoon, too much energy radiating off of him. He’s dressed much nicer that normal, no holes in his jeans and a long sleeved shirt covering most of his tattoos. He even got a haircut, something he hadn’t had in a while. Jungkook can’t stand still, constantly wiping down the counters and rearranging the cupcakes in the display case. Seokjin gets so sick of his constant movement that he sends him to the kitchen to knead dough. “Okay, but hyung, if she comes in you have to let me know.”

“I don’t know what she looks like.”

He sighs deep, the sound almost morphing into a whine. “She’s probably gonna be wearing something bright or she’ll just ask for me! Seokjin please!”

“Fine, fine. Now get to the back, you’re making everyone uncomfortable. You’re gonna make me go outta business.”

When you walk in wearing a bright red coat, Seokjin doesn’t make the connection. You look around the shop for a bit and Seokjin is stunned because goddamn you’re beautiful. It’s like a movie, the white lights of the shop forming a halo around you and everything slows to a crawl. You make it to the register, eyes widening at the chocolate donut pyramid displayed behind Seokjin and he knows he’s fucked. “Hi,” you say and, yup, Seokjin is super fucked.

“I... Hi-I mean… Welcome to Baking News! How can I bake your day?” And the recovery isn’t as smooth as he would have liked it to be, but you still laugh way too hard at the puns and his heart swells.

“You’re funny,” you state earnestly. “I’m actually not here to buy anything, though. I’m looking for my brother.”

“Your brother?” Seokjin asks dumbfounded, because he would definitely know if anybody worked for him that looked like you.

“Yeah! He’s tall and skinny. Oh and he has really big teeth. He kind of looks like a rabbit when he smiles.” All of the air leaves Seokjin’s lungs because there is no fucking way you are Jeon Jungkook’s sister. You guys look nothing alike—hell, it’s questionable if you're even from Korea, that’s how different you look. But then Jungkook comes scrambling out of the kitchen and over the counter screaming “Noona!” like he’s a character in a goddamn cartoon. And you wrap yourself around him like a python, hugging him so tight that his face turns red. “There’s my bunny boy,” you squeal and Jungkook plants a big sloppy kiss on your cheek and—

“Holy shit, he does have a sister.”

.

.

Okay, so you’re not Jungkook’s real sister. He’s just weirdly obsessed with you and keeps calling you his sister, but you’re not his sister. At least that’s the conclusion Seokjin comes up with because you don’t have the same surname and you don’t look alike and you tell him that you haven’t lived in Korea in over five years. You share that tidbit of information over coffee two weeks after your arrival, pink scarf wrapped gently around your neck in a way that Seokjin deems more flattering than it should be. You share a lot of information with him in the time that you’ve been back, always coming into the bakery to get the first sugary treat you can get your hands on.

“Bunny boy tells me you make the best lattes this side of Seoul,” you tell him one rainy Thursday morning, leaned up against the counter. The bakery is empty except for you two, the usual morning rush having filtered out quickly due to the inclemete weather. Seokjin snorts because you always call Jungkook ‘bunny boy,’ even on days like today when he’s not here and it’s so cute the way the words come out of your mouth. They tumble out so effortlessly, whereas Seokjin can’t go two minutes without stuttering over himself while talking to you. So he just snorts because it’s easier to make sounds than it is to form words when you’re staring up at him like he’s the most interesting man in the world. “Is it true, Jinnie?”

“Jinnie?” He asks incredulously, because you’ve never called him anything other than Seokjin.

“Cute name for a cute boy,” you say with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. It’s not 

His mouth is moving before he can stop it. “Cute? You think I’m cute? Just cute?”

“Yeah, why?” You chirp out with a sly smirk. Seokjin’s heart stops—but his mouth does not.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not just cute. I’m handsome. In fact, I’m one of the most handsome men in the world. Have you ever seen a face more handsome than mine? More beautiful than mine? I know you lived abroad for a while and have seen a lot of attractive men walking around, but I promise you that this face right here is better. This face should be on billboards all over the world.” This isn’t the first time that Seokjin’s gone off on this tangent, of course. Everyone has heard it before, taking the comedy bravado for what it is and laughing him off. But when he says it to you, it feels like he’s marketing himself. He doesn’t want you to laugh him off. He wants you to believe him.

Your head lolls to the side as he speaks, as though you are fully taking his words into consideration, and when he finishes, you grin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Worldwide Handsome, do you really make the best lattes?” And Seokjin’s heart starts to constrict because even though your tone is teasing, your eyes are so sincere. He nods. You laugh. He’s fucked.

But he’s even more fucked because he can’t act on his attraction. Jungkook is scarily protective of you. He always seems to know where you are and who you’re with. He glares at any guy who looks at you for more than 10 seconds and shoves his hoodies over you if you’re showing too much skin. You mention downloading Tinder one Wednesday evening and the younger man nearly passes out. However, everyone’s accusations of him having a crush on you were met with immediate disgust because you’re his “sister.” In fact, he claimed on multiple occasions that you were the most despicable human being he’s ever met. “I pray that whoever I end up with is the exact opposite of my sister,” he mumbled one Sunday afternoon, frosting cupcakes in the kitchen. “She’s so fucking annoying. She doesn’t listen to anyone, no matter what they say. I don’t see how anyone could be attracted to her.”

“Ah, I don’t know man, I think she’s pretty cute.” Taehyung responded in jest, setting the completed cupcakes on a display pan.

“Stay the hell away from my sister you creep.” Jungkook all but growled out.

“Wow, the baby sounds serious,” Seokjin stated incredulously. “I didn’t know you could care about anyone other than yourself.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook replied, slightly embarrassed at being called out yet again for his so called selfish behavior. “She may be the worst woman I know, but she’s still my sister. I gotta make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“And you think I won’t do that?” Taehyung asked with faux shock. “I’m hurt.”

“Not a single one of you are good enough for my sister. She needs a doctor or a lawyer or someone super rich who can take care of her so she never has to work again. You guys all suck.” He stands up straight to admire his work before stating, with a frightening amount of cool, “If any of you guys tried it with her, I would kill you with my bare hands.”

So Seokjin tries his best to stay away from you. He attempts to keep his banter light, lessen his affection. He hopes to himself that you lose interest in the bakery, in the coffee, in him, but it’s difficult. You’re so easy to talk to. You think he’s funny, cracking up at all of his puns to the point of tears. When he winks at you, you smile so wide that he thinks your face might break. He falls harder for you every day.

It’s you that makes the first move though. It’s a balmy Friday night when you stalk in. Thirty minutes before closing, the bakery is empty except for two struggling rappers who loaded up on the discounted pastries that would otherwise get thrown away. You’re dressed up more than he’s ever seen you before, so much so that you look out of place standing next to the pastel pink sign touting the new peanut butter tira-miss-yous in your purple dress. “Well if it isn’t my favorite customer. What are you doing here so late at night?” Seokjin asks as you continue towards the counter.

“Bad date.” You mutter, before surprising Seokjin by pulling yourself up on top of the counter.

“Hey, who said you could sit up here? Didn’t anyone raise you with respect? That’s filthy! My sweets go up here.”

“I’m sweeter,” You quip and Seokjin chokes. You shift your body to face him a bit more. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Y-you—you can’t—Jungkook was right, you are disgusting.” He manages to stutter out, mind reeling at the thought of how sweet you actually were. “I have to clean that now. Get down.”

You ignore his request. “A pretty girl throws herself on a table in front of you talking about how sweet she is and you’re worried about cleanliness? Taehyung was right, you really are hopeless.”

He blanches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh, unmoving. “So bunny boy sets me up on this date right? He says it’s with one of his good friends who really inspires him. Someone that has helped him out a lot. I get excited because I think that it’s you. I mean, you literally gave him a job. How much more help can he get from one person? So I get all dressed up and ready to go only to have someone else show up at my door. And don’t get me wrong, the guy was attractive but he wasn’t you. He didn’t even make a single pun the entire time when there were plenty of opportunities to do so. He was so boring, Jinnie. Like, what do business lawyers really do anyways? The guy told me he hoped I had a good time, but I didn’t. So I decided to come here looking for an actual good time.”

“I… what?” Seokjin asks, unable to accept what you were implying.

“Oh my god, hyung, she likes you!” One of the rappers screams out from his table near the window. “Stop being dense.”

“I’m not—” Seokjin begins to yell back, but you cut him off.

“Jin, would you like to see a movie with me tomorrow night?”

When he looks at you, he sees a hopeful expression. He imagines closing up the bakery early and walking with you to the movie theater. He imagines what kind of snacks you’ll like and wonders if you’ll share them with him. He imagines wrapping his arm around you and how well you’d fit next to him. He imagines pressing his lips against yours in the dark, tongues wrestling against each other as his hands traveled down your body. He gulps. “Uh… yeah. I’d really like that.”

.

.

Seokjin’s not good at being in a relationship. He’s had a lot of toxic relationships in the past, with a lot of cheating and mental stress. He’s spent the last three years filling the void with a lot of meaningless sex. On more than one occasion, former friends with benefits came storming into the bakery to scold him for his lack of commitment. He focused on himself a lot; on getting through culinary school, on perfecting his skills in the oven, on opening his own shop. He tells you as much on the fourth date, hand wrapped tightly around your own as you walk through a flower garden. You listen intently, nodding your head and adding “ohs” and “ahs” when appropriate. Then you sit him on a bench and kiss him hard, tongue dragging against the roof of his mouth before whispering against his lips, “I don’t care. I like you anyway.” 

Seokjin is happy with you. He smiles for no reason during the day, sings louder in the kitchen when frosting cakes, cusses less when the chocolate doesn’t temper or the cookies burn. He feels lighter, knowing that come closing time he can be wrapped up in you. His friends notice too. Namjoon teases him about how much more cheerful he is, while Taehyung and Jungkook pry for more information. He offers them none, much to their chagrin. He wants to keep you to himself, afraid that if the others find out, they’ll ruin it for him. Especially Jungkook—though he thinks about the other man’s disapproval less and less as he spends more and more time with you.

The relationship progresses slowly. You go on a lot of dates, whispering in the back of movie theaters and stealing small kisses on street corners. Seokjin likes to hold your hand. He marvels at the way it fits in his own, how easily you are able to slide your finger through his as you talk about work or travel or a memory from your childhood. Seokjin likes to hear you laugh. You think he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met. He’s gone through a rolodex of puns to try and hear the bubbling sound that spills out of you. You laughed the hardest on the 7th date, plastic gun slipping from your grip at an arcade, when Seokjin tells you he wrote a dessertation on Sweetzerland in culinary school. You hug him tight, face pressed against his chest as you continue to giggle at his words. He thinks you fit well there.

You don’t sleep together until three months in—an eternity for Seokjin. He’s never had to wait that long, but he finds it hard to argue when you whisper, “not tonight,” in his ear. He always agrees, calming himself enough to make it through the rest of the date. He ends up jacking off to thoughts of how you taste in the shower. You’re the biggest tease when it comes to that—your taste. The casualness with which you insist that you are sweeter than any dessert he’s ever made always leaves him drooling. Eating girls out was never his favorite sexual act, but he thinks you’ll change that. 

“You can’t—you can’t just say those sort of things!” He yelled at you once, during your tenth date at a sushi restaurant. The waiter threw him a dirty look, as did a much younger couple seated next to you. He’s always louder than he needs to be, but you’re the only person he’s dated who never complained. Instead, you rolled your eyes at him and swallow your food.

“Why not?”

“We’re in public.”

“I didn’t say anything bad.”

“Don’t lie. Don’t pretend that you’re innocent! I can hear you. I have perfect hearing. Doctor’s everywhere are impressed by it. You can’t get those filthy words past me.” He berated, making you giggle.

You slid your hand over the table to grab his, kissing the back of it gently. He can’t help but blush. “Don’t be silly, Jin. I never said what part of me tastes better than strawberries, just that some part of me does.”

“Which part then?”

“Why? You want to try it for yourself?” He threw his head back with an annoyed groan at your words, making you laugh even louder. The couple shushed you both, yet again, shaking their heads as though you two are the immature ones in that situation.

When it finally does happen, much like the first date, it’s on your terms. You’re sitting in his apartment, legs thrown over his lap as you listen to him complain about a mom who ordered a cake of a whale for her son’s 8th birthday only to show up expecting a Beluga whale and not a Killer whale like Taehyung had decorated. Suddenly you sit up, arms coming out to grab Seokjin’s face as you set a soft kiss on his lips. Then a second. Then a third. With the fourth, you up the intensity by slipping your tongue into his mouth. He shuffles his body slowly between your legs, refusing to let your lips part as he hovers on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down as you grind your center directly where his dick sits in his jeans. 

These types of makeout sessions have happened before; often right before you need to catch the train or bus back home. You always pull away after 15 minutes or so; that’s why Seokjin freezes when you whisper against his lips, “Do you wanna taste me?” He can’t formulate words. He’s thought about this moment for weeks now; planned a response for everything you could possibly say, but he’s coming up short. He’s sure he looks crazy, eyes bulging from his head. “Jinnie, say something.”

“A-are you… are you serious?” He manages to stutter out.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Oh my god, take off your pants right now,” he yells in excitement, sitting up on his knees. Your laughter rips through the air as he fumbles with the button of your jeans, shaky hands pulling them down your thighs until they get caught at your knees. He huffs in annoyance, lifting your legs himself to get the now offensive fabric away from you. As soon as the jeans hit the floor, Seokjin drops down to his stomach between your thighs. You open your legs with a content sigh, making him wonder if you’ve been waiting for this moment as long as he has. He drags his lips lightly over your thighs before placing a kiss on the crotch of your panties. You shudder. He chuckles. “Promise you’re as sweet as candy?” He asks, voice unintentionally deepening as he comes closer to his target. 

“Pinky swear,” you whisper. Taking this as his cue to move forward, Seokjin’s fingers gently ghost over the black fabric of your underwear before pulling the crotch to the side and exposing your core to the cool air. He takes in the fluid shapes and subtle wetness already gathering on your folds in awe, shocking himself with all the ways he could still find you beautiful. Closing the last bit of distance between you, he takes a tentative lick from the bottom of your slit to the top, the firm tip of his tongue pressing against your clit in the process. The action causes you to rock up, hands settling at the top of his head. “Fuck,” you whisper gently, the breathy sound going straight to his cock. He repeats the act once more, though this time his lips around your tender bud and he gives it a light suck. Your fingers thread through his hair tightly, guttural moan exiting your throat. Pride swells in Seokjin’s chest—he’s the reason you’re making those sounds.

“Jesus babe,” he murmurs, leaving open mouthed kisses on your thigh, “you’re even sweeter than candy.” You let an amused breath at his words, any laughter that would have bubbled up dying as those kisses reached your lower lips. “Can I take these off?” Seokjin asks, pulling further at your panties.

“Please.” With a bit more confidence than before, he moves to take your panties off completely. As he settles back down between your thighs, he sneaks a peek at you. You’ve relaxed back down on the couch, head leaned back on the armrest although your eyes never leave him. “Jin, please,” you whimper. Your words spur him on and he dives face first in your pussy, tongue working itself deep in and around your core. Soft whimpers turn to loud moans as he continues, only motivating him further. The need to make you cum becomes his only goal. “Fuck Jin, so goo—oh!” You moan out, jumping in shock when you feel his thick finger press against your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks, lifting his head up for confirmation that he can continue. With your rapid nods, he presses his index finger into you, sighing as he feels warm walls flutter and constrict around him. Then, as if another force has taken over his body, Seokjin surges his whole body forward to kiss you while he thrusts his finger at a steady pace. You readily welcome his lips against your own, not minding the taste of yourself against his tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Do you—fuck you are tight—baby… think you can cum like this?” He asks between kisses, your hips starting to buck into his hand. You mumble out an affirmative, pressing yourself closer to him.

He loses track of himself in the moment, one finger becoming two, thumb circling your clit, lips sucking bruises into your neck as you start to make desperate pleas in his ear for more, more, more. You give no warning when your orgasm hits you, just tensing up against him as your walls clamp down hard against his fingers. He litters your face with small pecks as he works you through it, fingers slowing only when he feels you begin to come down from your high.

“Jesus Jin, you’re really good at that,” you remark in a small voice as he removes his fingers from inside you, aftershocks continuing to rock your body.

He can’t help the cheshire grin that settles onto his face as he lifts himself off of you to get a good look at your fucked out form; your eyes are so dilated that they are nearly black, sweat sits at the edge of your scalp and brows, and your shirt is bunched up around your chest. He wants to kiss you again, wants to feel your legs wrapped around his waist, wants to feel everything you have to give and then some. “Baby,” he starts, suddenly feeling constricted by all the clothes he is wearing and how hot the room has gotten, “I could eat your pussy for hours on end, but I am so fucking hard right now. Please don’t leave me hanging.”

“Fuck that’s hot… do you have a condom?”

“Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom right now, come on!” Seokjin shouts, jumping up and pulling you off the couch with him, leading you through the short hallway to where he sleeps nightly. It’s a flurry of movement between the both of you, hands making bold passes over newly uncovered body parts as all remaining forms of clothing are removed. He lets an uncharacteristically animalistic growl when you finally wrap a hand around dick, moving it up and down at a near glacial pace. “Faster,” he finds himself begging, breathing harder when you comply with his request. He lets it go on for a while further before he gently pushes you on your back underneath him, hand digging in the drawer of his bedside table as he searches for the pack of condoms he knows is there. However, his movements stop and his mind goes blank when he feels you reach a hand for his cock again and grind his sensitive tip between your still soaked lips. He’s reeling, knowing he could slip right in if he wanted to, if you let him, despite how irresponsible it would be.

“Seokjin, condom! Hurry up!” You whine out, as if seeing his internal dilemma. Your other hand claws at his chest to further get his attention, snapping him out of his reverie and back into action.

When he finally locates a condom, he’s nearly rabid. He tears at the package and slips it on with such roughness that a small part of him worries he might break it. The bigger part of him, however, is focused on how delicious you look underneath him and how delicious your pussy will feel around him. He lets out a small huff when he finally gets the condom on, lining himself up with your entrance. He wants to take his time, wants to tease you a bit, but it takes one drag of the head of his cock against your slit for him to forget about all of that. He pushes inside of you slowly, warm walls clenching around him when he’s fully seated inside of you. 

It goes by faster than expected. Your body accepts him so easily, like it was made for him. You suck him back in each time he pulls out. You tilt your hips up when he begins to thrust harder, eyes rolling to the back of your head each time his hips meet your thighs. His hands roam the expanse of your body, gently squeezing areas that are softer than he expected and running blunt nails against your sternum before one of them snakes behind your neck and pulls you up to meet him for a sloppy kiss. It’s messy, more tongue than lips and it makes you clench even tighter than before. Seokjin’s not sure if you’re close, but he knows he damn sure is. 

“Honey I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He bites out, slowing down slightly as he lays you back down.

“Then cum,” you whimper back, though it sounds much more like an order. Hitching your legs up on his waist, Seokjin uses the last bit of energy he has to drill into you, chasing his orgasm until it crashes over him like a tidal wave. It’s the most pleasure he’s felt in months. All of his senses are overloaded as he cums, pressing deep inside of you. His hips stutter slightly as he milks himself to completion, feeling even more content when you run your fingers up and down his arms slowly. 

It’s that sweet gesture that brings him back down to earth. He takes his time removing himself from you, unsure if he wants to leave now that he knows exactly what you feel like. Placing your legs off of his hips and shuffling off of the bed to throw away the condom, he quickly returns and flops on his back next to you.

“We gotta—we have got to do that again.” Seokjin finally breathes out, heart still racing. You curl up beside him, skin sticking to his own in a way that disgusts him slightly; yet, he still pulls you closer. “I didn’t make you cum.”

“You made me cum once.”

“But not on my dick.”

“I still enjoyed myself.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s an honor thing. You have to cum on more than my fingers.”

“Like right now? Or—”

“Don’t joke like that. My dick can’t handle it.” You giggle at his words and he feels something rising up in his chest that he can’t identify. Despite hearing all of your moans, whimpers, and whines for the past hour, he still thinks your laughter is the best sound in the world. 

And later, when you start to drift off on his lap during a 90s movie marathon, Seokjin whispers promises into your skin that he’s never made before. You don’t say if you hear them, but relax further in his embrace.

.

.

“Oh this kid looks just like Jungkook.” Seokjin says one evening, sitting on the bed in your apartment. It’s the first time you’ve invited him in, having asked if he would spend the night because the bakery opens later on Saturdays and you want to sleep in with him. It’s such a cute request he can’t deny it. He thinks you’re so cute that it’s getting hard for him to deny you at all. He worries it will become a problem later, but he doesn’t dwell on it when your whole face lights up with happiness. Your apartment is quaint, with big white walls covered in pictures and knick knacks from your various adventures overseas. You float around the bedroom grabbing things for Seokjin—towels, extra pillows, a spare toothbrush—and laugh at him. “What’s so funny, huh?”

“That is Kook.”

“Really?” He takes the framed picture from your nightstand and looks at it more closely. It’s for sure you in the picture, just much younger. You sport messy hair and large t-shirt combo that would be embarrassing to most, but you’re holding on to a much smaller and skinnier kid with such excitement that it just reads as adorable. “Wow, you guys have really known each other for a long time.”

You let out an airy laugh of disbelief, placing the things on a chair placed in the corner of the room. “Since he was born.”

“Oh, so that’s why he calls you his sister,” Seokjin starts with a nod of understanding. “I thought he just had a crush on you or something. I didn’t realize that you’ve known him for so long. Your families must be really close right?”

You laugh again, but the tone is off. Seokjin catches it, but you’re crawling on the bed next to him and wrapping an arm around his back before he can question it. “Baby,” you start, voice light but edging on serious, “you know I’m actually bunny boy’s sister right? Like we’re really related. His family is my family.”

It’s a gut punch, hearing those words come out of your mouth. He isn’t sure how to process and he’s sure he looks like a fish as his mouth opens and closes as he tries to find something to say. He settles on, “What?”

“Jungkook is my little brother.”

“But you guys don’t even look alike.” He responds, feeling his brain short circuit. “You literally couldn’t be more different. And you guys don’t even have the same names. You can’t—it doesn’t…”

You sigh, unwrapping your arms from around him while shaking your head. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well for starters, we’re not blood related at all.”

“So you’re not siblings then?” Seokjin asks incredulously, because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Biologically no,” you stress, grabbing the picture out of his hands. There are red indentations on his palms from where he was squeezing it so tight. “But, legally speaking, we are siblings. All the paperwork I have will tell you I’m part of his family. But more than that, all of us were raised together as brother, brother, and sister.”

It really is a complicated story, Seokjin thinks as you explain your family history to him. Friends of friends, broken trust, being in the right place at the right time, and international trips brought you into the Jeon family. You never looked at Jungkook as anything other than family; Jungkook never knew you as anything other than his sister, biology be damned. “He never talked about you though,” Seokjin admits, head pounding from information overload. “Like ever. He only ever mentioned his—well your—brother.”  

You roll your eyes at this information, but don’t seem surprised. “He was mad at me for a long time. He thought it was stupid that I left to try and reconnect with my bio family. Do you know he can hold a grudge for a really long time? He wouldn’t answer my phone calls for a year after I first left.” You let out a small sigh, flopping back on your bed. “We only really just got back to a good place. I think that’s why he’s been so clingy lately.”

Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. “Ugh, Kook is really gonna kill me,” He mumbles, laying down beside you. 

“Why would he do that?” You whisper, moving your body to curl into him. “He’s the reason I started dating you in the first place.”

“What are you even talking about?” Seokjin groans out. “Don’t say false things just to comfort me. It won’t work.”

“I’m serious. He’s like your biggest fan. He talks about you all the time. Hearing and seeing how much you cared for him meant a lot to me. It made me like you for more than just your looks. I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself in front of you so many times if I thought you were a bad guy.”

“Really?” 

“Really.”

Seokjin hums mindlessly, thoughts still a jumbled mess in his head from all the information he has received. One thing sticks out in his mind though. He turns his head to lay a soft peck on your forehead. “You know you never embarrassed yourself in front of me, right?”

“What are you talking about? I practically begged you to take me on a date.”

“You saved me from myself. I embarrassed myself way more. I could barely talk to you without becoming a mess and tripping over all my words.”

“I wouldn’t want you any other way. You’re my mess.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook was wrong. You’re the best woman in the whole wide world and you're all mine, mine, mine!”

.

.

“Kim Seokjin, you motherfucker—” Here’s the thing, Jungkook is Seokjin’s youngest friend. He plays the role of the baby well, to the point where Seokjin feels as though he’s raised him. It’s so easy to forget that Jungkook is not as young as he acts; he’s always so kind and affectionate. He’s also the hardest worker at the bakery, always coming in early and staying late to make sure everything is finished. However, the boy was so much stronger than he looked. He worked out 6 days a week for fun and described getting tattoos as a pleasurable experience. Of course he would be able to pick Seokjin up and pin him against the wall by his throat. 

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down!” Namjoon shouts, running up to try and pull the younger man away. Jungkook does not relent, fighting against his friend to continue to try and choke Seokjin. “Kook, listen man! This is not the way to handle this!”

“He fucked my sister!” He screams and the accusation sounds so much worse coming out of Jungkook’s mouth, especially because it’s true. Except there is so much more than fucking that’s going on, but he can’t get the words out of his mouth to say that through Jungkook’s yells. “Thought I wouldn’t find out? Thought she would keep it a secret?” He spits out, still struggling against Namjoon.

“It’s not like that—” Seokjin begins, voice smaller than he anticipated, but Jungkook cuts him off.

“Bullshit!” Jungkook screams, voice cracking with rage. “I know you. I know how you are. You think you can just use my sister to get off?”

Now it’s Seokjin’s turn to be angry, with the thought of anyone only being with you for your body making him see red. “Do you really think I’m like that? You really think that I would hurt her like that?”

“Never stopped you before,” Jungkook responds sarcastically. “What did the last girl say again? Jin just wants a human fucktoy.” Seokjin winces at the words he once found humorous. The girl, a pretty florist he met at a bar, came in with the intent to tear him to shreds. She was met with indifference and laughter. He never realized how quickly her words would come back to haunt him. “You think my sister is a human fucktoy? Is that what it is?”

“Shut up,” Seokjin barks out, unable to think of you in that way.

But Jungkook is no longer fighting against Namjoon, content with his words bringing the pain. “You’re not good enough for her. You’ll never be good enough for her. I’ll kill you before I ever let you treat my sister like one of your whores.” 

“That’s enough,” Namjoon orders, frustration painting his features. “This isn’t going to solve anything. Jungkook, you should leave.”

Jungkook scoffs, pushing Namjoon away from him. “You’re on his side,” he accuses, pain in his voice, “You think it’s okay that he’s fucking my sister.” 

“I don’t think anything,” Namjoon stresses. “But fighting in our place of business is not smart. People can hear us out there and whether you like it or not, your outburst is gonna affect more than just Jin. This can be dealt with later.”

Jungkook is quiet, though he trembles with anger. Seokjin wonders, briefly, if the man will swing on Namjoon. However, Jungkook just shakes his head and states, “Fuck your business. I quit.” 

.

.

“Are you going to fire him?” You ask over the phone that night, worry evident in your voice. You canceled your date upon finding out what your brother did. You told him good faith when he tried to set you up another date with a doctor he knew, hoping he would be happy for you. He was not. You said you had to talk to him, make sure you understood where he was coming from before you passed judgement. He was your brother after all.

Seokjin wants to laugh. He can’t. He’s miserable. He wants all of this to end, but he doesn’t want his relationship with you to end. He’s tired. “I can’t fire someone who quit.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s going to apologize to you.” 

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

But two days later, he finds you standing at his apartment door, Jungkook behind you looking at the ceiling in avoidance. Seokjin fights against his urge to hug you, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and plant a wet kiss against the skin that leaves you squirming and pushing him away from being, “gross!” He stares at you silently, but you smile at him like nothing is wrong. “Can we come in?” You ask sweetly, stepping in at Seokjin’s nod. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch, making you scowl. You turn to face the man Seokjin now knows as your brother and snap, “Get in here right now.”

The man obeys you, stepping inside of the apartment and shutting the door behind him. No one makes a move. Seokjin wants to choke on the tension. Finally, Jungkook lets out a deep breath and states, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You say with a leading tone.

Jungkook clenches his fist, jaw tightening. “I’m sorry for choking you in the bakery. It was unprofessional of me to do so.”

“And?” You continue. Jungkook closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Jungkook!” You shout, causing the man to flinch, yet his silence continues. Seokjin watches in amazement as you reach your hand up to grab the younger boy’s ear and tug hard. Jungkook howls in pain, trying to pry your fingers away. You don’t let up. “I don’t care about your pride or your protection. You are going to apologize to Jin properly right now!” Jungkook whines loudly. You twist your fingers and the boy’s knees buckle. The scary beast who pinned Seokjin against the wall was gone. In his place was a child, weak and subdued. He wants to laugh, but doesn’t. He’s sure that if he does, it will come back to haunt him later.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” Jungkook screams out. With a final pull, you let go. Jungkook rubs his ear lightly and huffs, glaring at you. You return his stare. With another sigh, he turns back to Seokjin and states, “I crossed the line. I shouldn’t have hit you or said those things. It was wrong… but—”

“No buts!” You shout out, hand reaching up again. Jungkook catches it and grasps it tightly in his own hand. He shushes you with a look that says more than Seokjin could ever guess. He drops your hand and you let it rest at your side with a sigh.

“Can you leave?” Jungkook asks you. “I just want to talk to him alone. I won’t—I will not put my hands on him. I promise.” There is a sincerity in his tone that Seokjin has not heard in a while. It gives him hope.

Your head rolls back and forth, as if weighing out your options before stating, “Ten minutes, Kook. You hear me? Ten. And if he tells me you so much as even threaten him, you’ll have a whole lot more to be worried about than your ear!” At his aggressive nod of understanding, you turn to Seokjin. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You state, before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Seokjin notices the way Jungkook’s jaw tenses at the open display of affection. With one more stern look to your brother, you exit the apartment. 

There is a beat of silence before Seokjin suggests they sit down in the living room. It’s awkward. Jungkook has been in this room before, even passed out there a time or two; but he’s as stiff as a board when he sits on the couch. He refuses to look at Seokjin, eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him. His breaths are measured and he opens and closes his mouth a few times as he decides what to say. 

Finally, he speaks. “You don’t seem to understand that she’s my sister. My only sister, Jin.”

“I understand th—”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. I know I’m younger and you think I act like a kid, but I’m not. Not with her. I’ve spent my whole life protecting her. People always try to take advantage of her because… I don’t know. So many reasons.” Jungkook stops, struggling for words. He takes another deep breath and finally looks at Seokjin. “When we were younger, boys would bully her for being adopted. She would act like it didn’t bother her, but I could see that it did. I must have got into twenty fights making sure they kept their mouth shut when it came to her. After everyone, whether I won or lost, she would always be happier. And that was all that mattered. When she moved away I was so angry because who was going to protect her out there? Her bio family is shit. They never wanted anything to do with her. Then she started dating this guy who cheated on her and I couldn’t even get to him and I—” He stops again, having worked himself up. “I want her to be happy, okay? I don’t want her to be sad anymore.”

Seokjin is shocked. He’s never heard Jungkook speak so seriously and with so much passion. His eyes are glassy, tears clearly threatening to spill over. He looks ragged. There are dark circles under his eyes. He’s not even holding himself up properly anymore, body limp in the seat. It’s clear this has been weighing on the boy and Seokjin feels a wave of guilt wash over him. This isn’t what he wanted to happen at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin states, breaking the silence, “For not telling you. For letting it get this far. As your boss—no, as your friend, I should have let you know.” Jungkook nods, swiping at his eyes roughly. “I do… I do care about her a lot. I don’t look at her like… if I only wanted her for sex, I would have stayed away.”

“Do you… do you love her?”

“I…” Seokjin hesitates. He’s never thought about it really, loving you. He’s never even thought about love in general. For years, he didn’t think he was capable of loving someone romantically. But when he’s with you, everything feels like it’s in its proper place. “I think—I do. ” 

Jungkook hums in response, throwing his head back on the couch and really relaxing for the first time since he stepped through the door. “She loves you too,” Jungkook says as though it's a hard fact. Seokjin feels his throat tighten at his words. It’s been a long time since he’s been loved. “Like a lot. That’s the only reason I’m here… ”

“I won’t hurt her.” Seokjin says adamantly, hoping he sounds as sincere as he is. 

“You better not.” He mutters. There is another beat of silence before Jungkook meekly asks, “Can I get my job back?”

“Ask Namjoon.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

So it ends like this:

After many apologies, Jungkook gets his job back. He’s put on samples duty for a month, standing outside of the bakery with a new pun-filled sign wrapped around his neck everyday. He hates it, especially when you show up to snap a picture and post it on your Instagram. Namjoon reposts one of them on the Baking News SEOUL account and it becomes the most liked picture on the whole page. You and Seokjin howl with laughter when you see the numbers, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. He still doesn’t approve of the relationship—at least, not completely. He rolls his eyes every time he sees a kiss or a hug; he insists you don’t stay in the bakery long, shoving you out of the door after five minutes because he’s sick of seeing you flirting with his boss; he scoffs when you come in more dressed up than usual for date nights. Yet, he makes sure Seokjin knows what types of flowers you like getting on your birthday and what your ring size is, “because that’s information you’ll need sooner or later.”

On Sundays, Seokjin closes the bakery early and brings you to the kitchen. He stands behind you, hand on your hip as he instructs you on how to ice the practice cakes he baked for you earlier. He knows you won’t do it perfectly, knows you’ll eventually dip a finger in the frosting to try it for yourself, knows you’ll try to get him to do the same and put some on his face when he refuses. It might start a food fight that will take too long to clean up; might make him bend you over the counter and fuck you until your moans reverberate off of the walls. Regardless, it always ends with you kissing him all over his face, exchanging soft “I love yous” until you’re ready to go home. Seokjin thinks he’s okay with both scenarios; thinks he’ll be okay with both for a long time. 

[spoiler1001]

Lucien going clothes shopping with Caleb was reasonable, and it was easy for Lucien to get his new coat, soft and silky. It was purple and red with yellow lace lining. Lucien danced around Caleb in joy at the new coat. Caleb couldn't help but smile. His hair tie sparkled in the light.

The coat had a flow, pulling in with his hips and stopping right as his knees. The sleeves were loose, the lace wrapping around the sleeves. There was a sheen of some liquid treatment, keeping other fluids from staining it. Caleb looked as it flowed like oil surrounding him.

"You look great, Lucien." Caleb smiled as they returned to the group. He looked down and saw a new scar on Lucien's wrist.

"What happened here?" Caleb grabbed the hand gently.

"Oh, a giant spider bit me up north. I killed it." Lucien smiled. Jester jumped up to see it. Beau was shocked and shooting off questions about that fight.

Lucien going shopping with Jester was absolute chaos. There was stopping in and out of shops. A blank deck of cards for Lucien to paint again. Caleb went with them but could barely keep up. Lucien stopped to look at an amber bracelet. Caleb watched Lucien buy a whole amber jewelry set. Jester was constantly telling Lucien about her mother and how she wanted to meet him. Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Trust me. She's wonderful. She'll love you." Jester grabbed his hands.

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

Lucien dressed his very best for the occasion. His clothes were fine and he wore it well. He wore simple clothes with a bright blue belt. Caleb's jaw dropped. His eyes sparkled. Lucien looked nervous but Marion was warm.

"You seem tired, Lucien. Have you considered slowing down for a moment?" Marion asked, fixing his hair.

"I want to, and I probably will. I just have something I need to do." Lucien shrugged.

"Try not to lose sight of what's important," Marion whispered.

Lucien looked pensive. "Can I ask you something?"

"Is it about Mr. Widogast?" Marion smirked.

"I may… before I was hurt, I developed feelings for him. And now…" Lucien played with his shirt.

"You're in love." Marion smiled. "It's nice to have when it's last. Don't pull away or you'll regret it." She placed something small and metal in Lucien's hand.

"Thank you." Lucien smiled. Marion nodded and led him out of the room.

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

Caleb could see the rest of the Nein from his seat at the bar. Lucien was talking with Jester, Beau was dancing. Caduceus was enjoying tea and Yasha was waiting to dance with Beau. Veth was with her husband, Fjord was watching Jester. Caleb looked away when he noticed Lucien walking towards him, taking a sip of his drink and wincing.

"The Ruby of the Sea gave us access to one of the nicer rooms. A place where we can talk." Lucien smiled and held up the keys to a room with one hand. "And her sapphire gave us something to light up the mood." With the other, he held up the magic light up rod. Caleb smiled.

"What is there left to talk about?" Caleb asked, meeting Lucien's eyes.

Lucien placed his hand over Caleb's. "There's plenty."

"I'll see you in 15 minutes," Caleb answered.

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

They had relaxed on the bed, half curled around each other. They were talking about nothing and everything, even going back to before the Iron Shepards. They even talked about the burial.

"'Shine bright, circus man' was very fitting. I think it was thoughtful." Lucien had his head under Caleb's jaw. The colors of the rod filled the room, the candles burning low. "The note… when the Tombtakers resurrected me, I remembered who they were. I knew what they did. That note told me more than the words. It told me I, me, mattered. Not blood magic, but for me. And I treasured it."

Caleb ran his finger over his peacock feathers causing a small chirp.

"I wish I met you later in my adventuring career." Caleb mused. "You wouldn't have been stabbed."

"I don't blame you, Caleb. I'm happy to have met you when I did. I could see how bright you were, beyond intelligence. Just so much potential." Lucien bit his lip. "I felt something. I still do."

"I was aware." Caleb blushed. "I was always aware. You're not exactly subtle. I was not really available for such connections."

"And now?" Lucien pulled himself closer.

Caleb opened his mouth and blood came out. 

"Darling, light, Caleb, what's wrong?" Lucien grabbed Caleb's shoulders. 

He could feel toxin in the blood beneath his fingers. It was slow. Painful and deadly. Lucien growled, digging his nails into his palm, bleeding as black ooze dripped out of the corner of his mouth. The pain left Caleb and he stood up, with Lucien stumbling on his feet. Caleb grabbed his silver wire. 

"There is an assassin in the bar." He yelled into the wire. "I was poisoned." 

Lucien and Caleb pulled themselves down the stairs. Both looked pale and feverish. 

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

Fjord made his way to the two of them. "What do you mean poisoned?" He asked, half snarling. 

"I drank something, Lucien pulled it out of me." He spoke evenly. "I have an idea for who would do it." 

"Who?" Caduceus asked, appearing behind them. 

"Astrid. She knows poisons." Caleb frowned. He looked over to the bar. The bartender was long gone, dust starting to form on the top. "And she's long gone."

"The next time we see her, she's dead," Veth promised. 

Caleb took a breath. "Maybe… wait." Caleb wobbled. "It might have been ordered from Ikithon." 

Lucien went quiet. "Do you want to redeem her, to save her?" 

"If we can save her, we can save others." Caleb nodded. "I'm going to set up the tower," Caleb whispered, subtly tapping on the inside of Lucien's wrist. Lucien followed. 

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

"You never got your answer," Caleb asked, going back to the room to get the components to get the tower ready.

"I'm sorry?" Lucien asked. Caleb looked up at him. 

"I'd like to try with you," Caleb whispered. "Like what Beau and Yasha are heading towards." 

"That's...oh. I would- That would be lovely." Lucien blushed. His tail moved back and forth in the air. 

The Mighty Nein walked in right after the two pulled away from the kiss, but they knew. They were happy. Things were better. 

[eve6262]

the fox and the gargoyle

“Man, you’re really trying, huh?”

She’s always wearing a smirk, he thinks, staring her down. Always with that purple hoodie and the bandages on her right arm, despite never seemingly being in harm’s way; jeans and a pair of converse that dangle as she stares him down from the balcony she’s sat herself on. Not even hers, probably; she doesn’t like this part of town, despite its similarity to her preferred dress.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“ ‘Cause they’re fun?”

“And disruptive.”

“You just don’t like fun things.”

“No, you and that other one let them get to this point.”

“You’re blaming her now?”

“...No. She’s always been an eccentric. I expect this from her. Besides, her help was minimal.”

“I guess. But then, wasn’t mine?”

“You didn’t do it out of loneliness.”

“Boredom’s pretty close!”

He clicks his tongue, tries to keep moving. Admittedly he hates this place too- garish lights and people walking around half-naked, in his educated opinion, aren’t exactly kind to his black suit and combat boots. His cane hates the uneven ground, probably being ground away as it hits the rough asphalt pathways. Always ready for any encounter, no matter the enemy. It’s something he learned in the war.

Sometimes, it feels like everything he knows he learned in the war.

“Why are you here, anyway?”

“Oh, no reason. Just curious.”

He hates that he can’t understand her. Or, more accurately, that she’s the only unknown variable in this whole picture. He can make perfect moves, can navigate around everyone being a traitor and still come out on top because he knows so much more than a bunch of idiots about love and war but this one, alone, is a problem. Because a wild card is something you can’t account for.

What’s worse-case scenario? That won’t work, because there’s assumptions in place that will break another strategy. If you give way to caution the people think you’re being weak given that they’re not a real threat, but if they end up having more power and you went aggressive there will be protests in the streets over all the people they have to bury. What’s best-case scenario? That won’t work, because you’ll end up being complacent with the current-day and won’t be ready for tomorrow.

If only he knew. If only she knew, maybe, she’d be a bit nicer. Surely she wants to win.

If she allies herself with the scum, and they win, does that make her queen of the sewers?

At the very least, if he has recon on the rebellion he can eliminate needing to know what she’ll do, because he’ll find out either way and plan accordingly. A little last-minute info has never been a problem; it shouldn’t be if you can adapt. But he asked that girl to set up a surveillance system within one member of their ranks and she said the best she could do was an autonomous parasite that would make them reconsider how advanced the corporation’s technology really was, so.

Now here he was, installing security throughout the slums himself.

“You know, I doubt this is gonna work.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What, you like being watched?”

“They don’t have a choice.”

“What if they EMP it? Take it down?”

“This district is mine. If they rebel against me, they’re losing too much.”

“Could be worth it, to them.”

“Not if they have nothing to hide.”

The silence could be cut with a butter knife, or maybe shot through with a pistol, which, speaking of.

A gunshot rings out, very barely missing and hitting the pole next to him. With very little care in his movements he turns around to see a woman in tattered clothing and a rebel patch over her heart. The gun in her hands is still smoking, and her eyes narrowed with determination, but clearly her mind is in fragments because no sane person would think that was a good idea.

He calmly strides up to her, during which time she fires three more shots. None of them come close to hitting him, despite her good aim. They’ll fly forward before seemingly hitting something and flying off in another direction, like some kind of force field.

It’s mostly magnetism, though he admits it feels like magic.

The gun is plucked out of her hands, and finally the fear registers on her face. But her legs betray her- or, no, that’s a lie. They’re not legs so much as an attachment to a wheelchair that must be rigged to respond to her inputs. It wasn’t obvious because she was stretched up to get some height, but upon him getting closer she shrinks down into it.

A scowl is painted across his features as he grasps her with his left arm. The cold metal squeezes, wrings her neck as she chokes, desperate, air draining as she struggles, violently, against a limb that’s made for perfection and killing until, finally, all the squirming stops.

“That was mean.”

“She fell out of line.”

“Man, you’re really boring, you know that?”

“Boring things tend to win.”

“Yeah, but is it really a win if it wasn’t fun?”

“You ask too many questions.”

He takes her corpse with him back to the tower, where he thrusts it upon one of the special operatives. “I want details.”

They nod, taking the woman with them to someplace else. He pays them to do their job within whatever tools he can provide, and that is all. He’s never liked the details on research or investigations or the like; give him all the information and he can make a decision, but he refuses to find that info for himself.

When he can afford to, at least. When it comes to the others, well.

He calls the other girl. After two rings, she picks up.

“Good evening, Commandant.”

“I have a few questions for you, if you’re not busy.”

“I would not have picked up if I were.”

“Thankfully, unlike someone we both know. Let us begin, then.”

--

inspired by epitome by friend on YT. it just came out and it slaps

~Eve6262

[batboysandgirls]

Tim Drake x Reader - Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 4 - FINALE!

PART ONE HERE, PART TWO HERE, and PART THREE HERE! Title: Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 3 Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You’ve made it out of Black Mask’s lair alive, and it’s time for you to have dinner with the batclan, including Bruce Wayne himself (who you still can hardly believe is Batman).  After the dinner, you know you’ll have to decide to make your move with Tim... or let him go.  But you’re not one to give up easily! Notes: Canon-typical descriptions of violence and injuries. Words: 5.4k Taglist:  @silentwhispofhope, @ashfromthesol, @oh-no-my-ravioli, @katelynkargol, @rhymeswithrason, @grincheveryday, @ivysfaves, @hanliz2211

You awoke in a very nice bed that was not your own.  You should be terrified, but the well of terror in your heart was empty.  Now, you were just tired.

You slowly sat up.  You were wearing a silk white nightgown, which might be the softest thing you’ve ever worn.  You were also laying a king sized bed, which might be the first time you’ve ever had a king sized bed to yourself.  It was a large bedroom, sparsely decorated.  There was an empty desk, a mostly empty bookshelf, and a dresser.  The dresser was against the far wall, and you could see your clothes folded and washed on top of it.  To your left, there was a set of glass doors leading to a balcony.  They let in an enormous amount of light, making the whole room bright.  It almost seemed like a dream, although you were pretty sure you were awake.

Looking around, nothing had clicked for you as to where you were, but, somehow, you felt pretty safe.  At this point, if someone was going to kill you, they probably would have succeeded.

You swung your legs over the size of the bed, and there was your phone on a side table.  You almost reached to check your messages, but you didn’t.  Instead, you walked out to the balcony.  The wind blew gently, and you took in the view of beautiful gardens.  You didn’t seem Gotham, and you couldn’t even hear it… had to be pretty far out from the city.

Huh.  Maybe this was a dream.  Or, since you were all in white, was it… no.  No, no, no.

(You probably weren’t dead!  You’d know!  Right?  You’d know if this was the afterlife… right?)

You turned back to the inside, and there was Tim standing in the doorway.  OH!  Thank goodness.  Tim was here… okay, so this must be Wayne Manor.  Pretty house, pretty gardens, way outside of the city proper.  Made some sense.  Still not sure how you got here, but that wasn’t much of a concern.

(You weren’t dead!  Hooray!)

“Tim,” you said, your voice coming out a little soft and a little hoarse.

“How are you feeling?  I was afraid you’d wake up confused about where you were.”  He walked over next to you, and you smiled.

“I first thought this all might be a dream.  Then, I thought I might be dead and this is what happens after.”

Tim raised his eyebrows, alarm on his face, and you laughed.

“But I saw you and thought—that’s right, Tim lives in a mansion outside of Gotham.  I’m alive.”  Tim looked like he was about to apologize, and you shook your head.  “No, no.  That’s just how my brain works.  I assume you guys took me back with you after you stopped Black Mask?”

“Yeah.  They were going to drop you at your apartment unconscious.  You passed out from exhaustion and stress apparently.  But I said you were my girlfriend, and they let me and Bruce take you home with us.”

“Do you think the police officers had read the Buzzfeed article?”

Tim smiled.  “Well, one officer giggled as I explained so I think she might have.”

“Our accidental celebrity relationship coming in handy, for once.”

“For once.”

The conversation lulled, and you found yourself gazing at Tim unabashedly.  He was looking out over the back gardens, thoughtfully.  He was so handsome, it was really unfair.  All you wanted to do was to have him hold you, to run your hand through his hair, to tell him how incredible he is.  But it wasn’t really the time.  And though you were pretty sure Tim did like you a tad, you weren’t sure if he was thinking of anything serious.  Fate had drawn you together once, and you’d been tangled together since then.

You were hoping the Black Mask incident would be the last of your brushes with Gotham’s heroes and villains, but your heart ached a bit at the odds that meant this would be the last of your brushes with one Tim Drake.  Would Tim really be interested in a random intern who had a few freakish experiences that drew you closer to him?  Would he have any free time to dedicate to a girlfriend totally divorced from his duties helping run Wayne Enterprises and from crime fighting?  Probably not…

For now, though, you took in Tim standing before you.  You let that be enough.

Tim finally turned to you.

“Well, I know Alfred’s made an amazing brunch for you.  You should eat something.  Then, you can just relax until we have dinner tonight.”

Dinner.  Right.  Dinner where Bruce Wayne, Batman, which is still weird, will tell you not to reveal the whole Batfamily’s secret identities and probably terrify you in the process.  You should be worrying about that.  Instead, you’re caught on something else.

“Alfred?”

“Alfred is the family butler, but he’s more than just that.  He is family.”

You nodded and slowly realized how hungry you were.  “Does he, um.  Does he make good pancakes?”

Tim grinned from ear to ear.  “The best.”

✹ ✹

“Maybe I was wrong earlier,” you said, mouth full of chocolate chip pancake, “Maybe I did actually die and this is some sort of heaven.”

“Wait, you thought you died?” asked Dick Grayson, eldest Wayne child and also Nightwing.  Of all the superhero identity matching you’d done in your head, that was a no brainer.  The butts were basically identical.

“A death joke!  She’ll fit right in,” Jason said.  Jason Todd, second Wayne child, also the Red Hood.  Just from this pancake brunch, he quickly was becoming your favorite after Tim.

(You weren’t sure what he meant by the death joke, but you smiled anyway.  That seemed to make him even more on your side.)

The youngest child, Damian, didn’t say anything to you, other than a few displeased huffs.  Odds were he was Robin.

Cassandra, who was around Tim’s age to your understanding, didn’t say much either to you, but her eyes and smiles were endlessly kind.  You weren’t sure of her identity… maybe she was just a normal person.  That would be lovely.

(Tim told you that Duke, another brother a couple years younger than him, was out “on patrol,” which meant that he was probably the Signal.  The lone daytime bat.  Wild.)

Bruce Wayne did not appear at brunch, but that was probably for the best.  You needed to work up the emotional strength to face Batman’s scrutiny tonight.

Alfred was working on that by fueling you with pancakes and calling you “Miss _____.”  You called him “Mr. Pennyworth,” and he kind of seemed offended by the formality—but you didn’t give in.

Tim was definitely watching you the whole meal, amused and a little pleased.  It was nice to know someone was paying attention to you, and nicer still to be able to tell they liked what they saw.  You regaled the group with a humorous retelling of the Wayne Tower accident, as well as some weird encounters you’d had as an intern.

After brunch, you returned to the room you’d been in, getting dressed in your somewhat tattered clothes from the previous evening.  You looked in the mirror, a little disappointed.

No, it wasn’t any insecurity about your body.  You thought you looked pretty good, generally speaking. It was just that you looked more put together in the nightgown these people provided than in your own clothes.  There were a lot of holes and tears in the fabrics from the glass exploding onto you.  You hadn’t gone ham on your outfit with a pair of scissors for fun, but it kinda seemed that way.

Someone knocked at the door.  You poked your head out and saw Cassandra standing there, holding a box.

“Hello,” you said, poking your head out.

“Hi,” she said, before handing it over to you.  “Alfred made these.  Adjusted my old things.  Should fit.”

“Oh!  Thank you!  Currently, my clothes are a bit, uh, compromised.”

Cass just smiled with a nod and vanished down the hall.  You put on the clothes and were delighted they fit perfectly.  Did Alfred take your measurements when you were brought to Wayne Manor?  That was a little weird, but very helpful.  It was just a simple black sweater and a pair of jeans.  No holes or rips or tears!  And you looked good.  Perfect.  You wanted to look nice for this dinner, so you could come across as professional.  Someone to be trusted with the batfamily’s secret identities.

(Not for Tim.  No, certainly not to look good for Tim.  Mhmmm.  Nope.)

You spent the following few hours getting a tour of the Manor from Tim, who did compliment your outfit, which was not notable or anything, and just hanging out with him and his siblings playing Scrabble.  The tour was cool, and Tim only blanched once when you asked where they kept all the bat stuff.

(“Um, Bruce didn’t kill me for having you find out my identity, but if I showed you the Batcave, he’s definitely freak.”

“So it’s a cave?  Must be under the house then. That’s pretty sweet.”

“...”

“Is that aspect a secret?”

“Just don’t tell him you know that.”)

As you walked the Manor and played in a Scrabble tournament with the Wayne children, your eyes kept meeting Tim’s.  You would both look away, but it was never long before you found the other’s gaze again.  It made your heart weirdly full but also made you weirdly nervous.

(This dinner is the last thing directly tying you to Tim.  It’s why you got lunch and the whole dating rumor started.  After Bruce Wayne gets his say with you, Tim doesn’t have a reason to reach out to you.  You could reach out to him, start something more, but does he want that?  That look when his bright blue eyes find yours… you hope it’s not wishful thinking to imagine he wants that.)

Duke showed up midway through the Scrabble tournament, but he got to join in.

“It’s round-robin style,” Tim explained as he spelled out l-u-n-a-r off your r-a-t-i-o, “You can join in with whoever finishes next.”

“Only Dick and I made jokes about the fact Robin is literally in the name of the playstyle, if you’d like to immediately hop on that train while you wait,” you added.

Duke laughed at that, and you definitely liked this kid, too.  Honestly, other than Damian being a little stuffy, this strange hodge-podge superhero family was quite wonderful.

Tim and Jason won the tournament, tied for most wins.  Then Damian, then you, then Duke, then Dick, and then Cass.

“Words are hard,” Cass concluded as you all packed up the boards, and you couldn’t agree more.

“Dinner is about to be served,” Alfred said, stopping in the doorway. “If you all would please head to the dining room.”

You felt yourself tense up a bit at that announcement, and, suddenly, Tim was right next to you.  He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“It’s going to be fine.  Our secret identities are much less secret than Bruce wants, but there’s not much he can do about you knowing.”

(You felt more tense about this dinner being over and having no excuses to see Tim than the actual meal itself.  But that’d be a bit odd to tell him that, probably.)

✹ ✹

Dinner began uncomfortably normally.  After you and the rest of the batkids sat down, Bruce Wayne entered and sat at the head of the table.  Everyone went quiet as he took his seat, and then he smiled at you.

“Hello, _____.  It’s wonderful to finally meet you.  How are you?”

This was not the “attempt to reveal our identities and we’ll make your life hell” angle you were expecting.

“I’m, um,” you said, “I’m quite well.  I slept great here.”

“I’m glad.  It’s been a stressful week, hasn’t it?”

You found yourself laughing a bit too loud and too long at that.  When you realized everyone was staring at you—

(Facial expressions.  Dick: “oh god, Bruce.” Jason: “lmao.”  Tim: “BRUCE THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.” Cass: “The shirt really does look lovely.” Duke: “Don’t smile, it’s not that funny, don’t do it, Duke.” Damian: “Ugh.”)

—you closed your mouth.

“Um, yes.  Very stressful.  I’m honestly looking forward to doing intern-y stuff again, without my life being threatened.”

“Would you mind reminding me what your internship is like?”

So you began to explain your Wayne Enterprises internship to Bruce Wayne, which was very strange.  He was paying attention as you explained, asking some questions here and there.  Alfred brought out the first course, which was tomato and cheese soup, and, by the time everyone had finished it, you had exhaustively detailed your intern duties.  You snuck a glance over at Tim as Alfred took away your soup bowl and placed down the main entrée, fettuccine alfredo with chicken.  You were afraid he’d look bored or worried, but he had an easy smile on his face, almost like you were a good dream he was having.  That made your heart flutter a bit.

You fiddled with your pasta a moment before looking up to Bruce.

“Mr. Wayne, are we going to talk about the whole Batman thing, or…?”

You could see Tim’s easy smile fade a bit, and the table instantly became a bit more tense.  Bruce’s gaze was a little heavier now, and you held up your hands.

“Look, I don’t want to cause any problems.  I do not want to get involved in what is your little family activity.  I won’t tell anyone your secret identities.  I’m not even sure of Cass’s alter ego, honestly, but the rest of you—my lips are sealed.

“I guess I was thinking this dinner was going to be you grilling me on how important it is to keep all this secret and threatening to, like, pull my life apart if I try to tell someone.

“And I’m glad you haven’t done that!  Don’t get me wrong.  But, uh.  I was a little puzzled,” you finished.

Bruce Wayne put down his utensils.  He didn’t look angry, but he did look firm.

“_____, I want to make it very clear that, while I expect you to keep our vigilantism a secret, I invited you to dinner primarily as thanks for your help at Wayne Tower.  My only plan to mention keeping our identities a secret was to take you aside before you left, after dinner, and remind you of that.  I would not threaten you or your life in any way.”

“Oh.  Right...” was all you managed before looking sheepishly at your fettuccine.  You felt like the limp noodles before you.)

“I understand why you thought that.  The safety of my family is more important to me than any secret identity.  We’ve lost people before in this line of work—”

(You tried not to think of being eleven years old and hearing Robin had died on the news.  You tried not to remember being, what, fourteen, fifteen, and seeing the report that the female Robin seemed to have died in the huge gang wars.  Most clearly, you tried to not see the footage of the current Robin, his body bloodied, impaled a year or two ago.  Someone draping a blanket over him, and the reporter choking up on camera.  You tried not to think of those images.  You tried, and tried, and failed.)

“—and the most important thing to me in all of this is that Tim is alive because of you.  And I might have lost that fight with Black Mask save Nightwing and Robin coming to help.  We owe you a debt, as does Gotham.”

For the second time in the past twenty four hours, you felt tears well up in your eyes.  You sniffed and wiped them away, chuckling a little to yourself.

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Wayne?”

“Anything.”

You looked at him, his eyes cool like steel.  Set, determined.  “Does it ever go away?” you asked.

“Does what go away?”  Bruce didn’t even look confused or unimpressed at your remark, just ready to answer once he understood.

(You squeezed your hands together.  You could feel the scars from that day at Wayne Tower.  The superficial burns were not fully healed, they probably wouldn’t be for months.  And after you’d have these swaths of skin on your hands that were wrinkled, lighter or darker than the rest of your hands.  And you were going to see those scars every day.  For the rest of your life.)

You hoped he would understand.  “The fear.  The weight.  Of all of it.  Of everything.”

“No.  You can’t stop being afraid, and you can’t ignore the trauma and the pain you’ve experienced,” Bruce said. “But you can, and you will, heal.  You’ll learn to not let fear rule you.  To accept your past and your pain, to know how to think about it and feel about it without being sucked in.”

(You wondered how much he was speaking to your experience, and how much he was speaking for himself.)

“It’s not easy, it’s not linear.  But you’ll get there.  With people who care about you supporting you.  And if you ever need anything, and I truly mean it, anything, you let us know.  Because we will help you too.”

You weren’t sure when you started crying as he spoke, but you were also smiling.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” you said, voice only a little hampered by the tears.

Bruce Wayne smiled at you.  Batman smiled at you.  “Call me Bruce.”

✹ ✹

You were thirteen years old.  You were walking in the Downtown Plaza after getting pizza for dinner with some friends.  The entrance to the Downtown metro stop was maybe two hundred yards away when a storefront across the street exploded, as did a couple other buildings around the Plaza.  Oh.  Oh no.  A bunch of gunmen ran out from it, grabbing people.  There was screaming and dust and smoke and you tripped on something and there’s a man grabbing your arm—

Someone takes your other arm, grabbing your hand, pulling you away from the man as a silver stick (?) came down hard on the man’s shoulder.  You leapt back, a vice grip on the person who pulled you away.  When you turned to see who it was, you almost jumped again.

Robin—the newest Robin, he’d only been spotted a few times—was holding your hand in his left hand, and a bo staff in his right.  The man who’d been after you was collapsed on the ground in front of you, and Robin, without letting go of your hand, tied the guy’s hands.  He collapsed the staff, stuck it on his belt, pulled out some kind of little cord which snapped around the guy’s wrists automatically.  Woah.

“Hold on, I’m getting you out of here.”  He put an arm around your waist, and grabbed a grapple gun from his belt.  You had no idea how he could see, but suddenly you were flying through the cloud of smoke.  Then, you burst out of the smoke and you landed on the edge of this dust cloud.

“T-thank you,” you managed to say.  Robin grinned at you.  He looked like he was almost having fun.  You guessed that made sense—superheroes liking superheroing!

“No problem.  You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m—” you gasped as you saw a silhouette in the smoke, towering over Robin’s figure. “LOOK OUT, ROBIN!”

Robin heeded your warning just in time, ducking down as a man swung a metal bat right where his head had been.  His reach was so wide it passed a few inches in front of your nose.  You leapt back as the man stepped out of the smoke, and you watched as Robin managed to strike him with the bo staff.  However, this guy was huge, must be close to seven feet tall, way bigger than the guy who grabbed you earlier.  He grimaced a bit as he got hit, but it was going to take a lot to knock the guy out.  The tight frown on Robin’s face seemed to confirm that was the case.

Since the giant man was occupied with Robin, you looked around behind you to see if there was anything you might be able to grab to defend yourself.  Or…  well, that seemed incredibly dangerous.

(But this all was pretty dangerous already, wasn’t it?  What’s a little more?)

There was a shattered piece of concrete a few feet away.  A piece of rebar from inside it had broken off.  You grabbed it, and there was the man’s back, turned towards you.  Well, shoot your shot.

You swung the stick right into the man’s groin, and, WOW, that man screamed.  The metal bat clattered to the ground.  Robin did some super fast jabs, and the guy collapsed.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I’m very grateful you did,” Robin said, “But I should go rescue other people.”

“Yeah, no—I mean, no, or when—you—that’s probably—uh, yes,” you struggled to get out.  You cleared your throat and tried again.  “Um, yes.  You should.”

(Not that it really mattered, but GOODNESS, could your brain work for this once?  So you don’t sound like an inarticulate rebar-wielding madwoman?  Particularly in front of a very cool superhero?  PLEASE!)

Robin smiled at you throughout your efforts to agree with him, taking his grapple gun out again.

“Wait,” you said, taking his hand once more, “I just—thank you.”

He gave your hand a friendly squeeze.  “Of course.  Thank you.”  Then he let go and grappled off, waving to you as he re-entered the cloud of dust and vanished from your sight.

You felt a little star struck after all that, but you turned away from the cloud and started to walk home.  Life goes on.

✹ ✹

It had been a week since the dinner, and you hadn’t spoken to Tim.  He dropped you home after you finished eating, and you desperately wanted to ask him if he would like to go out sometime or if he wanted to get lunch with you again.  Instead, you said “Thank you” as the two of you exchanged very intense eye contact.  You didn’t see Tim at work, either, which was to be expected…  Different floors and all.

(It didn’t stop a part of you from being disappointed.)

You had tried for an hour to go to sleep and failed.  You mind was too awake.  It was a relatively nice evening out, so, at one in the morning, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and went up to the roof of the intern housing.  The roof door was always open, and you let out an impressed breath as you took in the view.

Old Gotham was one of the prettiest areas in the whole city.  Wayne Tower, the Clocktower, the city cathedral, the GCPD headquarters… all within your sight.  You pulled the blanket a little tighter.  There was the distant wail of sirens, music from a club a few blocks away, but it still seemed quiet somehow.

(You knew why you were up here.  You knew.  Silly, stupid, and deeply sad.)

You didn’t see anybody, didn’t hear anybody distinctly.

(There was a part of you that thought, maybe, he’d happen to be swinging past your building, that Red Robin would stop as soon as he saw you.  He’d rush up to you and hug you tight.  It would be nice.)

You pulled out your phone.  Opened your messages.  Scrolled for a second to find who you were looking for.  It was worth a try, right?

You This is random but

You If you happen to be near Old Gotham tonight, I’m on my apartment’s rooftop

You I’d say I was stargazing or something but we live in a city, and I’m just staring into space and thinking

You Couldn’t sleep

You So if you want a break and some company, I’m around

You watched your screen for a second, eager to see if you could see the little “Tim-Drake Wayne is typing…” message to pop up.  It didn’t, not even after two minutes of staring as if you could will it into existence.  You put your phone away and just looked out again.  In many ways, Gotham was an objectively terrible place to live.  Like, you know, your workplace exploding and being kidnapped.  You’d always dreamt of moving away after college.  To another city.  Maybe Metropolis, New York City, Boston—somewhere.  But moments like these, alone on a Gotham rooftop with the city’s lights all around you, made you want to stay.  It was home, after all.

“Can I join in the art of staring into space?” a voice said from behind you.  You turned around and couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across your face at the sight of Tim.

“Oh, certainly!” you said.  Tim sat down next to you, removing his mask.  He looked tired, weary.

“Long night?” you asked.

“Yup.  Two burglaries, a mugging, and a bomb defusal.  All in an evening’s work,” Tim said, rubbing his eyes.  “You texted at the right time.  I needed a break.”

“Are most nights like this?”

“No.  Well, I don’t always patrol.  Sometimes I sit in the cave and work on a case, or I go out but just look for evidence.  That’s usually a little less hectic.  But when I’m out stopping crime normally, today is pretty par for the course.”

“When do you sleep?” you asked, and you raised your eyebrows as he started to chuckle.

“Sleep is…  not a thing I do with much regularity.  I try to get four hours in between patrol and waking up.  Sometimes, if I’m really exhausted, I take a nap later in the day.  It depends.”

“That’s deeply concerning,” you said in response, and Tim shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.  It’s on my to do list.  ‘Get a normal sleep schedule.’”

“‘Save Gotham (ongoing),’ ‘Get a normal sleep schedule,’ ‘Run a multi-billion dollar corporation…’ What don’t you do, Tim?” you said with a smile.  “My to do list is currently ‘My laundry’ and ‘Intern stuff.’”

“There is one thing I meant to do that I haven’t,” Tim replied.  You waited for about ten seconds, and he didn’t elaborate.  Um.  Weird.

“Uh, what would that be?” you prompted.  Tim looked… nervous?  He was looking at you, and something in his gaze made the whole situation feel a little less goofy and a little more intimate.

“‘Kiss _____,’” he finally said.  “That was the last thing.”

You smiled, and then you leaned in and kissed him.  At first, you just gave him a quick kiss, pulling back to see his slightly surprised but delighted face.  Then, he pulled you closer to him and you kissed again.  And again.  And again.  You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled down your back to your waist.  You were acutely aware of just how strong this boy was when your hands danced across his chest.  He was wearing this armored suit and still.  Like, damn.  You could feel that muscle.  The boy was as kind as he was smart as he was ripped, and he was making out with you.

(This was even better than your fantasies.  Real life is better.  Who knew?)

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, letting out what could only be described as an enormous amount of romantic tension, but eventually, you stopped making out.  You just leaned your head on Tim’s shoulder as he wrapped your blanket around him as well.

If you looked closely, you could see the sixth floor of Wayne Tower across the street, where you’d stumbled upon an unconscious Red Robin about two weeks ago.  That day had ended with you both covered in dirt and blood leaning against each other.  With the stars above and blanket around you both, you had to say you preferred this current arrangement.

“Hey, Tim.”

“Hey, _____.”

“I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too.”

✹ ✹

bzfd.it/TimWayneGF-proof-twitter PROOF!  Tim Wayne IS Going Out With That Intern, And She Pulls No Punches

Despite repeated denials of a relationship, Tim Drake-Wayne, adopted son of Bruce Wayne and the crush of many young Gothamites, is definitely going out with Wayne Enterprises intern, _____ ______.  In an amusing tweet, ______ confirmed their relationship.

_______ @_______ me: should I say something about the #timistaken now that we’re actually going out tim: why me: because I’ve had so many things I wanted to tweet that involve you but couldn’t bc we weren’t public tim: sure I guess tim: wait what are you going to tweet 4:29 PM  •  7/26/__ 5K Retweets    20.2K Likes

But that’s old news now.  What’s fun to watch is her interactions with Drake-Wayne on Twitter.  Let’s just say she’s enjoying her newfound public presence.

_______ @_______ guys @timdrakewayne keeps a skateboard in his office at wayne enterprises and has used it to get across the street to get lunch four times this week 5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 7.1K Retweets    30.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ the cafe we eat lunch at is 180 feet away from wayne tower. he uses. the skateboard. EVERY   👏 SINGLE 👏 TIME 👏  5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 896 Retweets    10.2K Likes

_______ @_______ me, frantically googling this morning: “should I be worried or endeared when my boyfriend texts me the title of a book he thinks I’ll like at 3:06 am” 8:02 PM  •  8/3/__ 1.1K Retweets    10.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ Both?  Both.  Both is good. 8:02 AM  •  8/3/__ 302 Retweets    3.3K Likes

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne I feel like twitter was a kinder place for me before my girlfriend started exposing me on main 11:03 AM  •  8/5/__ 5.1K Retweets    32.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  @ me next time 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 6.1K Retweets    15.8K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  also 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 321 Retweets    5.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  I love you 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 7.5K Retweets    16.8K Likes

They’ve got a great dynamic.  The couple was spotted seeing the new Star Wars movie together last weekend, which gives this last Tweet quote tweeting _____’s reply of “I love you” an extra special meaning...

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne  I know @_______ 

__________ @_______ I love you

11:21 AM  •  8/5/__ 3.4K Retweets    11.6K Likes

You chuckled at the article Emily had sent you.  Buzzfeed was actually amusing for once.  You had no idea how they wrote that article so fast.  It was noon!  The last tweets were from a half hour ago.  Had to hand it to them for immediacy.  You slurped the last noodle of your lunch.  You were eating your at your desk today, some leftover pasta from the spaghetti dinner you’d cooked up for yourself yesterday.  No lunch with Tim today, you were both too busy.  Still, the banter on Twitter had more than made up for it.

Putting away your tupperware in your bag, you checked your phone before finishing your lunch break.  You tapped the home button to see your alerts and smiled softly.

(Oh, how much you loved this boy.)

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I don’t know if you’ve seen my tweet

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: but that was a jest because in all seriousness

MESSAGES                11:23 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I love you

(THAT’S IT!  The end.  This is so long.  I can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this fic, for all the support and lovely messages...!!  I hope you’ve enjoyed this.  If in the future you’d like to see more of my fics, feel free to follow me or maybe if you’d like to be on a general tag list for Tim fics of mine, reply or dm and I can do that too???  I’m new to reader inserts on here but people do seem to do that.  I have an idea for a fic about Tim and a reader who becomes a vigilante… one that involves time travel shenanigans… and some Jason fics too…  ANYWAY!!  I RAMBLE!!  Worse than the reader in this fic’s own thoughts.  Thank you so, SO much for reading!  All my love to you guys ♡ )