#it’s not even because of something we did the landlord just. sold the apartment??? and just now told us??

[junrandot]

im getting evicted now like y’all. this year 😭😭🙏🙏

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || They Find Out You Kept Your Old Apartment

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

a/n: i tried to get these as different from each other as possible

SEOKJIN:

Jin wasn't the type of boyfriend that would snoop on you intentionally, nor was he the type to open your mail unless it was an accident, just like this morning. He hadn't meant to open your letter but as soon as he did he was almost glad he had, it was from your landlord letting you know that he was raising the rent on your apartment. Only, it wasn't the address you were currently living at with Jin it was your old address, something Jin thought you would have sold long before now.

"Jin, I picked up all your favourites while I was out. I was hoping we could have a picnic in the living room," You called out as you walked into the house, shaking off your umbrella after being caught in the rain. Jin didn't even move from the living room though, he'd been sitting there ever since he opened the letter about three hours ago. He was overthinking every little detail wondering how long you were going to keep this from him. Were you planning on going back to it? Was it some sort of backup plan for you to rush off back to if things went wrong between you and him?

"Jin? Cat got your tongue?" You laughed weakly when you walked into the room to see him sitting there and just waiting for to you come back, 

"You kept your apartment," He said to you, slowly turning to look at you with tears in his eyes. He told himself that he wasn't going to cry but it turned out that he was going to.

"Jin..." You said slowly as you put down the bags you were holding. You knew you should have told him about your apartment but you'd kept it a secret because you knew he was going to react this way toward it,

"Did you keep it in case you were going to just leave me?" He snapped a little bitterly and you smiled weakly, he had every right to react this way and you weren't going to argue back and forth with him.

"I kept it to keep my stuff in," You let out a small sigh, it was something you were a little ashamed about since you tried to act like you had a "minimalist" lifestyle but it couldn't be further from the truth.

"What?" He wiped his eyes a little and stared at you before you whined and shook your head, looking down at your hands as you finally admitted to it.

"I have a lot...I mean, A LOT of stuff Jin. Not everything was going to fit inside of our place, so I kept my apartment as storage." A small chuckle left your boyfriend's lips,

"So you hide it all away?"

"I didn't want you to know about all the junk I had," You grumbled as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your cheek as he shook his head at you.

"We can look for a storage unit, it'll be better for you than keeping an apartment," He laughed softly.   

YOONGI:

Yoongi frowned when he saw you walking down the street in the direction of your old apartment, it was above the coffee shop where the two of you had first met and he smiled to himself and decided to follow after you. The two of you would always come back to the coffee shop together to get some coffee and reminisce on the old times you had together. Only this time it didn't seem you were going to get coffee, Yoongi watched as you pulled your keys free from your bag and took the stairs outside up to the apartment.

"What the fuck?" He grumbled, following after you as he made his way up the stairs trying to be as quiet as the creaky metal would allow him to be. As soon as he got to the top he looked through the small window and his heart sank at the sight of you, just sitting there with a cup of tea and relaxing. Sighing to himself he pushed the door open, watching as you squealed out in surprise,

"Yoongi?!" You sat up straight and stared at him, your stomach dropping as you saw him standing there.

"What are you doing?" He looked over at all of the boxes that were inside of the room and his mind was instantly going to the work possible place. Were you leaving him? Slowly moving back into your old place without telling him? 

"Yoongi, it's not what you're thinking." You stood up slowly but he shook his head at you,

"You're moving back into your apartment...T-That you kept, without telling me?" He pointed at all of the boxes and you shook your head at him, none of that was true. The boxes were full of things you needed to take to Yoongi's place but had no room for, the place you were living together in was only small and you had lots of things.

"No...Not even close,"

"Then what is it?" He questioned, tears building up in his eyes as he let out a small whine.

"I don't have space at yours," You quickly rambled out. The two of you had never really spoken about what the spare room in your place was going to be used for and before you could ask about it, Yoongi had turned it into a studio at home.

"You have lots of space." He grumbled but you shook your head at him,

"I don't have enough space to put my stuff Yoongi," You didn't know how to approach the subject before but there was no avoiding it now.

"Your spare room, I-I kind of need to put some stuff in the wardrobe...a-and maybe get some more shelves for the living room," You swallowed the lump in your throat and he smiled stepping closer to you.

"I'll make more room or we can move, I-I'm just glad you're not leaving me."

"Never, you're with me for life," You smirked, kissing him deeply.

HOSEOK:

Hoseok had a weird feeling for weeks and he hadn't been able to place what it was about until now. Now there was no avoiding the weird feeling that was there for a reason as he stared down at the "missed delivery" notice - something that wasn't usually a problem but the issue with this one was that it had your old address written on it and the date was yesterday. Instantly Hoseok's mind was thinking of all the reasons you would have kept your old place, it was a backup plan for you to go back to if things went wrong. It was somewhere you'd run off to if you had a fight, every possibility was running wild in his mind.

"I picked up your laptop for you," You told Hosoek as you walked into the living room, your heart sinking when you saw him holding the bright red slip.

"You have a missed delivery." He turned the slip to face you and you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat,

"Hobi.." You trailed off slowly and made your way to stand in front of him, 

"For your old place, which is strange because you told me you sold it."

"No, I didn't. I told you I took care of it." You mumbled, it was neither the time nor the place to argue about details from before.

"Which in my mind means you sold it." He grumbled, his eyes staring into yours as you bit down on your lip a little. There was nothing bad about you keeping the old place, it was just something you did because you needed to.

"Hobi, it's nothing...Trust me," You reached for his hand but he didn't even acknowledge that you were holding it out for him.

"It doesn't feel like nothing, this feels like a pretty big deal to me." You shook your head and pulled him to stand up, you were going to show him the truth as to why you kept your old place.

[X]

"Yn...This is insane," He said as he stared around at everything inside the small apartment, your heart was running wild by now. The thing was, the reason you'd kept your old place was to keep most of your kpop merch in and it took up a lot of space.

"I have a problem with buying it." You mumbled as he turned to look at you,

"You have kpop stuff at our place too." He reminded you as you nodded shyly,

"I have all-time favourites at yours," You admitted, sinking down onto the sofa as you whined a little. You had a slight problem with overbuying and this was where it had led you, needing an apartment to hide the things from your boyfriend. A small chuckle left Hoseok and he sat down beside you,

"At least I know you're not planning on leaving me." He teases, trying his best to cheer you up just a little.

NAMJOON:

"It was an accident!" Jimin cried out as you glared at him, both of you rushing in the direction of your "old" apartment as you tried to see if that was where Namjoon had run off to. 

"You accidentally told my boyfriend I kept my old apartment? How?" You grumbled harshly, you knew you were directing your anger in the wrong place. You should have been directing it at yourself but you couldn't help it, you'd gone 6 months without Namjoon finding out that you kept your old place only for it to come out through someone else. He must have been crushed, you couldn't imagine what he was thinking right now.

"If he's not here, I'll let you off." You told him as you turned the key to your apartment door and sighed when you saw Namjoon standing in the living room.

"You're dead." You mumbled to Jimin before making your way into the room and staring at Namjoon, waiting for him to say something - anything - but he was just silent.

"I kept it as wardrobe space. Every time I needed something new at yours, I'd bring older things here and replace them back home." You told him plainly, it was the truth. You and Namjoon had a lot of clothes and moving in together meant losing a lot of space and this was the best solution that you could come up with.

"So you're paying two rent payments, here and at ours?" Namjoon stared at you, relieved that you weren't keeping this space as a backup plan in case things went wrong for you and him.

"Y-Yeah, but I found a storage locker I'm going to get instead...I-I figured that could be better-" You were cut off as Namjoon suddenly held you from behind, snuggling his head into your neck.

"You're not leaving me," He breathed out, relaxing as he held you close to him.

"I would never leave you Joonie." You whispered, kissing his cheek softly as he looked around your apartment again, both of you laughing a little at how much you had.

JIMIN: "I'm telling you, I have no space. That's why I kept my old apartment, but I'm thinking of selling it so if you know anyone in need of a place, give them my number?" You suggested to Danielle - the two of you had grown close with one another since she joined HYBE and you were talking a lot to one another.

"Sure, does Jimin know about this though? I bet it was weird telling him you kept your old apartment," She giggled a little but you bit down on your lip and shook your head. Jimin had no idea you'd kept your place, you'd told him that you'd sold it months about but the truth was, you couldn't. You barely had any space at your place with Jimin and you needed somewhere to keep your things or to at least downsize a lot more than you already had.

"You kept your place?" Danielle's face dropped and so did yours as you whined, he must have only heard Danielle's question and not that you were getting ready to sell,

"That's my queue to leave, good luck." Danielle gave you a quick side hug and rushed out of the room as you turned to face your boyfriend.

"Jimin, before you overthink it-"

"Too late, why did you tell me you sold it?" His voice cracked as he did his best to hold back the tears that were building inside of him.

"Because I was going too b-but then I realised the space we lived in wasn't big enough and so I kept it as a way of having more space."

"Oh." He looked at you and bit down on his lip, clearly, his mind had gone in the wrong direction when he heard you'd kept your apartment, he'd instantly thought of the worst possible thing.

"And I finally got rid of a bunch of my stuff and I think if I can get a small locker somewhere I can finally sell my apartment and it won't be there anymore."

"So you're not keeping it so you can run away from me?" He sniffled a little and your eyes shot to him, why would he even think that?

"Runaway? Why would I ever do that?" You laughed weakly through your question and he let a few tears run down his cheeks.

"I-In case you fall out of love with me,"

"Is that what you thought when you heard us talking?" As soon as he nodded you threw your arms around him and cuddled him closer to you, your hands slowly rubbing the back of his head.

"I love you Jimin...Always." You whispered as he cuddled into you, holding you as tight as he could manage.

TAEHYUNG: HYBE had been getting all kinds of letters about you recently and it was starting to become a problem, it seemed that a Sasaeng fan had taken it upon themselves to let them know you were holding another apartment in your name.

"This doesn't look good. What if news about this got out? People would assume the two of you are having issues." Sejin said as he paced around the room, your eyes looking down at the table. It had just been announced to everyone inside the room that you'd been keeping a secret apartment,

"No one was supposed to find out."

"Why do you even have it?" Taehyung's voice cracked as he let out a few tears. The two of you were doing well in your relationship, hell, you were even engaged to one another so he didn't understand why you were keeping an apartment.

"I-"

"Are you planning on leaving him? Cheating on him?" Sejin asked as he slammed his hands onto the table, you flinched and shook your head.

"No! Nothing like that!" You yelled out, staring at Taehyung who was simply refusing to meet your gaze,

"I would never! I kept it because I needed it!" You yelled out as you tried your best to defend your actions. It was stupid of you but you needed the place. The apartment that you and Taehyung were staying in was only really big enough for one person and neither of you had talked about finding another place.

"For what?" Sejin questioned, Taehyung slowly turned his attention back to you and you slowly took in a deep breath,

"There's not enough space at our place...I have my winter clothes at my apartment, then I also have all of my things I couldn't take to Taehyung's apartment." You looked down at the table again, there were things like holiday decorations, and presents you'd been given, not to mention all of the other things you had in your life.

"Why didn't you just say something?" Sejin sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose and sinking into his chair, if it was that easy a fix you should have said something months ago.

"Because Taehyung likes his place."

"I like having your things with mine more," Taehyung laughed taking your hand into his.

"We'll start looking for a new place tomorrow, okay?" You nodded at him and he kissed your cheek softly as Sejin prepared to get ready for a media statement about it all.

JUNGKOOK:

It was starting to become a big problem now, you'd kept your apartment hidden from Jungkook but it was becoming increasingly aware you weren't going to be able to keep it a secret for much longer.

"What are we doing here?" He laughed as you stood outside your old place and you handed him some boxes.

"I have stuff inside," You mumbled, taking him toward the door as he opened it. His eyes landed on all the clothing racks you had that were filled with clothes. He hadn't expected there to be so much.

"What the- Wait...You told me you sold this place," He stared at you and you knew he was instantly going to think badly and you kissed his cheek.

"I kept it as a precaution, I needed somewhere to hide all my clothes... A-And stuff I was ashamed of you seeing." The place you lived at with Jungkook was tiny but now that you were moving into a larger house it was time for you to take your things to go and move in properly with him.

"So, this whole time you've been living here too?"

"N-No. I just use this like a really...really big wardrobe and junk drawer." You smiled trying to lighten the mood and he let out a small and weak laugh, looking at everything. It was going to be a long day of packing for you both even though you'd just finished packing up the old place yesterday.

"You're lucky I love you enough to help," He winks, kissing your cheek as you both set out to work.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog​ @tinyoonsblog​ @sw33tnight​ @taestannie​ @cherrybubblesandvodka​ @acciocriativity​ @mitzwinchester​ @heyjiminnie​ @halesandy​ @jin-from-the-block​ @aerastus​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @psychosupernatural​ @lyoongx​ @royallyjjk​ @critssq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​ @laylasbunbunny​ @ratherbfangirling​ @backintomykpopphaseagain​

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - Here and back again

CW: Elliot's mother having a tough time, guilt, stalking

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The bags had piled up outside the building now, a cluttered mess between a yard sale and bulk trash, and Evelyn still wasn't done yet. Done with the packing, the cleaning, the endless calls to that son-of-a-bitch landlord, but not this. Box by box she lifted out of the small apartment and with the rabbit long gone, it was soon left empty.

What now looked more like a wasteland made from drywall used to be Elliot's whole pride, the first station of his new life.

Even though the neighborhood was more than shady and the rooms overpriced, they had been ecstatic when he finally could afford to live on his own, not only because it was about time he freed himself from their two-room fleabox, but to also give him back some confidence. It had worked, sure, at least until now.

She was quick to organize the change in housing, it wasn't even New Year's Eve yet and everything had gone smoothly so far, before the double rent continued to eat up the money they didn't have.

Evelyn was told to watch out, so illuminated by neon lights she struggled to carry all the weight at once, her back twisting and bending into grotesque angles to safely maneuver down the staircase. Spine against the rail, feet searching carefully for the next step, she was at least useful for something.

Elliot's mood had taken a dip in the last few days. Every hour, the nurses checked up on them and every hour he seemed to give up all the strength left in him. 

Not that it was hopeless, no, she knew she could help. She, of all people, understood what was stashed deep down inside of him. She was there to help if her boy would just finally talk.

When he did, he begged her not to go alone, to at least ask her brothers to aid her. So much fear didn't fit her son. Nevertheless, it was practically pouring out of him, every waking second he-

She caught herself, again. Feet placed firmly onto the dirty concrete, she had nearly slipped down the few stairs that kept her from leaving.

This won't be forever, we didn't lose him.

Maybe his father had more luck. The days he was out on the road now grew into weeks...

Keep it together, just a bit more. We have no space for self-pity.

Mountains of clothing, all neatly folded and stacked into the cardboard, joined each other. Evelyn had saved the trip to her car for last, uncertain how risky multiple rounds would be for her. Maybe her son's warnings weren't in vain, even in broad daylight, nobody knew for sure.

The world had become a madhouse, but that didn't mean she belonged in one.

What couldn't be sold and given away was free to take; and why not: any shirt with tight sleeves was out of question now. Zippers, gloves - even his favorite sweater with the buttons at the front - they had to go.

She hoped to keep it stashed away somewhere, all his stuff, so she could return it to him again. No space for that either.

Piling the boxes on top of each other, Evelyn stepped out onto the cluttered sidewalk, the rough edges of the carton already digging into her fingers. She only had to make it down the street to her car, followed by a half-hour drive home.

Maybe there was time to decorate before they could bring Elliot home; his room had to be a gentle welcome after weeks between drips and resident physicians.

Whatever came next, she had to make it easy for him.

"Oh, ma'am, let me help you with that!" a bright voice suddenly called to her from behind.

That's how people get robbed, probably.

"I'll manage," she responded dryly, not slowing down for even a second, "don't worry!"

Just a few more steps kept her separated from her destination; the stomps echoed up to the back of her neck, but she was nearly done with all of-

Accompanied by a smack, the upper box slipped down onto the wet cement and what had been so carefully wrapped up now soaked in the dirty excrement of the city.

Not even this she could do right.

As Evelyn came to a stop, she fought to keep the tears back, tried to think of the happy moments, not what waited for her after she locked the remains of her son away. Through the veil of blurred tears, she made out the person who had caught up by now, already bent over the pavement and started to place the worn-out books and few shirts back together.

"Thank you," she mumbled weakly, not sure how much she trusted her voice.

The head full of wild curls looked back up at her, a friendly smile on the lips: "No problem, ma'am. I can carry this for you, my pleasure!"

He was tall, not as tall as her, but that rarely happens anyway. It'll be fine, she supposed, and felt the urge to hit herself for being so rude, mistrusting or whatever gnawed its way through her chest.

Evelyn returned the smile and signaled the stranger to walk the last few meters with her.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, it's quite slippery out, so I guessed you could use a helping hand. We look out for each other here."

"Ah," she continued to chit-chat, too tired to stop herself, "you live around this place too?"

He walked right next to her, as if he already knew where to go... Come on, don't be like that. Besides, enough people had arrived at the street meanwhile, so what was there to worry about?

He looked pensive for a short second, then explained how he stayed just a few blocks further down. It made sense to Evelyn, he did look like he belonged. Between bald treetops and dirty snow, she questioned how she had become so bitter.

"Well, you don't seem to stay for long anymore," the man ripped her back to reality, as they stopped in front of her car, "I hope the move is not too far, the fuel prices are going crazy lately."

The quick glance he took at her license plate betrayed him, though.

So you do want to rob me, boy, just not right now.

He was free to do so, honestly, nothing more to get here besides scrap metal.

"Very far, actually, upcountry. I'll miss the sea."

"Oh." The stranger looked like she just slapped him across the face: "Well...good luck, then."

He let his eyes wander back to the building, as if he just detected the pile of leftover plastic bags laying next to some kind of alley. All carefully placed down in the last hour.

"Thank you, truly. Maybe you find something useful in there," Evelyn shrugged the exhaustion away, "The smoothie maker behind the ironing board, if you like. I don't know if it's still working, couldn't get it going."

With him distracted for a moment, she took the chance to bring the car door between them and the boxes onto the backseat. Enough small talk for today.

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a safe drive...", the stranger whispered vacantly, before taking another intense glance at the back of her car. A weird man, yet helpful. Whatever.

She was done, at least for today.

As she pulled out of the tight parking space and onto the street, the tension eased from her jaw and hunched shoulders. Evelyn knew her family had to weather through what would follow, one step at a time, they could make it work - together.

--------

Plenty of clothes, nothing flashy or with print. All the wool sweaters felt very quaint, but he could help him with that too. Put something nice on that body.

One or two high-school textbooks were stuck between them, geography and history of all things. Flipping through the trash bags on the side of the road, he hoped for a more...personal discovery.

A diary? Maybe old photos, if he was lucky.

Upcountry, huh? The pressure under his heart made him swallow thickly. Please give me more time.

His thumb slipped over a stack of old piano booklets, bound by a frail rubber band. To use again soon, he hoped.

Rearranging the bulk trash and fitting everything that appeared worth it into his own bag, he knew how this looked in the long run. Nobody had to know that they had met today, it would only upset Elliot even more.

He really is that delicate, he thought with a smile, not intending to stop his scavenging until he had the most valuable treasures gathered in one place. Anything to keep him close.

Morris would give them back, eventually, maybe, when he finally got his hands on what he was looking for.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

[fakesurprise]

What's Eating Gilbert's Drapes: start

The thing about bad days is that they start out good: that is what makes them bad. If your day is shit and you step in crap, you’re not surprised at all. Had anyone asked me, I’d have said my day had been going good until I saw a pizza being delivered to an unmarked van across the street from my landlord’s house. Capenelli’s Pizzeria was known for a lot of things: the quality of their pizza wasn’t one of them, but sometimes cheap was all you needed. There were a lot of bad things I’d been convinced were good for me from time to time: Capenelli’s wasn’t one of them.

The van was a drab brown, with tinted windows and an out of state plate someone had deliberately caked with mud. The rental car sped back toward main street through a residential zone: again, no surpise. The drivers for Capenelli’s got tickets the way other drivers got tips. I crossed the road, jacket hood up and headpones in my ears though I almost never listened to anything. One trick Vio had taught me.

I walked quickly, not even looking at Gilbert’s place as I passed it. Drapes and blinds were shuttered and lights not on, but that didn’t mean my landlord wasn’t home. I glanced back toward the van. The driver’s side window was slightly open, cigarette smoke coming out of it. The driver was a tall, solidly built man, the passenger a woman eating her pizza carefully. A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with October and I picked up my pace, turning down the driveway to the house Cass and I were renting without pausing.

I was at the front door before the people in the van had time to react, and inside before the flash of a camera or a shout could draw my attention. I slid the deadbolt in place behind me for the first time in days and listened. Cass was still at the liquor store, and the house felt empty. I checked the back door anyway, not bolting it and pulled out my phone to text the group chat Cass had renamed to DullTV five days ago.

I changed the name back to Hellovision and texted everyone: ‘Reporters are back outside Gil’s. Unmarked van, staking it out.’

Cass texted back a few seconds later with: ‘Shitballs. Going to crash at Vio’s apartment tonight?’

Levi sent a private text asking if I was okay. I replied with a quick yes and was debating what else to send when my phone rang, not surprising me.

“Mr. Breen,” I said. “I regret to inform you that I have sold your social security number to XKCY News for a hundred dollars.”

Gilbert let out a bark of laughter at that. “You might get a little more. I’m up in Clarksville visiting Roselyn’s cousin Charm and her partner Stefan. I thought everything had died down after last week?”

“So did we. So far it’s just one van, and no one has tried to break into our place. I’ll check on yours later if you want?”

“Please do.” He paused, and the sigh that followed sounded older than he was. “If something happens, you have the number for my lawyer and I am fully expecting to pay for those deadbolts you had to install. If you don’t send me a bill soon, I will exercise my right to increase your rent.”

The tangle of anger in me at the new vulures faded a little at that. “Now that we could go to the local news with: ‘Landlord increases rent because tenants refuse to let him pay for deadbolts’ would get at least one headline.”

[literaticat]

Have you ever had days maybe earlier in your career where you felt like leaving agenting? What kept you persevering? (Asking for a friend) thanks Jennifer

This is a tough one, because I want to be able to give you a pep talk, but also -- I haven't really ever felt like leaving agenting. I was thinking about it the other day and realized that even if I won the lottery, I'd want to keep doing it (though my list might be a lot smaller if that circumstance came about!).

When I very first started, before I ever sold anything when I was still in intern / assistant mode, and then for the first couple years as an agent, I had three jobs -- intern/assistant/associate agent (for free for the first couple years, then iffy income as I started to sell things myself) -- as well as full time bookseller-buyer, and part time nanny. I also lived and paid rent in San Francisco, in a flat that was falling apart (no heat, water dripping on my head every time it rained, etc) but I was afraid to complain because I didn't want my landlord to kick us out or something because we were completely priced out of the neighborhood if we ever wanted to move. I remember at a certain point WEEPING because I was I had applied for food stamps and they wouldn't give them to me even though I made under the amount and I had to sell some of my most special books to eat. When I had my interview with ABLA, my shoes had actual holes in them and one of my LiveJournal friends sent me a Zappos card so I wouldn't look like quite as much of a pauper. IT SUCKED.

But that didn't make me want to stop on the agent track - it made me realize I had to do whatever I had to do to hustle and make enough money to move the eff out of San Francisco and go somewhere cheaper so I could focus MORE on the agent track. If I had stayed there, I would have HAD TO keep working at the bookstore (because at least I got health insurance from them) -- and if I stayed working at the bookstore full time I could never truly go All In and make a go of it as an agent.

So I guess what kept me persevering during that time is knowing that this was my way out and I had to take it. I simply don't have a ton of other useful skills! :-)

(And yes, luckily, moving DID give me the ability to focus on the agenting and just work very part time at a different bookstore for a steady income and make it through until my books started earning royalties and stuff and my agenting income alone was enough. Thank goodness!)

Unfortunately, there's simply no shortcut here - I for sure was selling books five years before I really made a living wage that I could count on, and I think that WAS the fast track. That's not to dissuade you, it's just reality -- this job does not make steady money, until suddenly at a certain point you have enough books out in the world that it does.

Anyway, I have no idea if that's helpful, since I'm not sure if the problem is the money or the slowness or what -- but I do wish you the very best of luck. It sucks when you are starting out, for sure, there's a lot of uncertainty and it feels like nothing is in your control and everything takes FOREVER.

Also - not to be an ANTI-pep talk person -- but, agenting ISN'T for everyone. Sometimes we try a job and realize it isn't like what we dreamed or imagined. If you find that you are miserable and have other options or opportunities -- consider taking them. What happens when you think about that? If you DID stop trying and just did something else, would that choice make you feel lighter and happier, or heavier and more miserable? Do the things that will lead to Happier.

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [9] [END]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint

↳  Word count: 2,857

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | You Are Here!

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TUESDAY - 9

Day by day, things got steadily worse. Your body was constantly giving out, you had trouble breathing, and whenever you ate something, you always managed to throw it back up. The weight loss and iron deficiency you had developed after the last periods you’ve had led to four clinic visits and one hospital scare. You tried to play it off to your boss, but enough was enough and you knew you were going to be let go.

It took a lot of thinking, but you had finally decided to do what you had to. So, there you stood, taping the last box closed. You had sold your final possession besides your bed and your oldest camera, handing the sealed box to the buyer who had been standing in your kitchen. “Thank you,” he said, smiling gently at you. “This is gonna make my daughter really happy. I…” he cleared his throat awkwardly; “I hope that you get better soon.” 

You nodded, holding your breath for a moment to avoid coughing in his direction. “Of course. I hope she uses that camera well, it helped me a lot when I started college.” 

After he left, you looked over the bare-boned atmosphere of your apartment. Your coffee table was gone, your bookshelf, your easel. Your little television, table and chair, and nearly all of your glassware and cutlery had been sold as well. Walking into your room, the only things that were left were your tote of movies with all of Mark’s cards and letters tucked inside, and a backpack with a second outfit, toiletries and your camera stuffed in it. Even your bed was stripped just to the bottom sheet, the summer hot enough and your fever high enough that you didn’t need blankets anyway. Today was finally the day you had finally procured enough money for a plane ticket, a one-way trip that hopefully would relieve the pain in your heart and the crushing pressure in your head. 

While you lay in your bed, waiting for the night to pass, your phone, one of the last things you had to keep with you, buzzed. Rhiannon: How are you doing

You: I can never tell anymore

Rhiannon: Johnny, Hyuckie and I are going to meet you at the airport tomorrow. Mark’s getting pretty bad

Worry filled your chest, and you frowned at your screen.

You: Is he going to be okay? Rhiannon: we don’t know. He’s completely bedridden, I just hope that you don’t end up that way before your flight. I’m worried that they might not even let you on. 

You: I have to try

Rhiannon: I know…  

Rhiannon: I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you

You: I miss you too. 

At this point, getting onto your flight was the least of your worries. After putting down your phone, you mad managed to get about ten minutes of rest before you had to run to your bathroom to throw up the measly dinner you had put together with the small food budget you had set for yourself. Once you were sure your stomach had settled, you went back into your backpack and pulled out your toothbrush, returning to the bathroom to clean out your mouth.

Looking into the mirror above your sink, you noticed how bad you had really gotten. Your cheeks were hollow, your skin pale and underneath your sunken eyes were the works dark circles you’ve ever had. You brushed as slowly as you could, hoping that you wouldn’t start to feel nauseous again. After spitting and rinsing out the sink, you decided that maybe it would be better to just get up and go to the airport now. 

You left your house key for the landlord on your kitchen counter with a note about where the spare was, stepping outside and locking the house with the spare, hiding it under your doormat before heading toward the elevator and beginning your journey. 

Occasionally you’d lose your footing, your balance off and your legs weak. You would grab onto the wall to steady yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out. About an hour of subway and streetcar riding, you finally made it to the airport. It was chilling to see so many eyes on you. You knew that coming in this condition would get you multiple looks and passing disgusted faces, but you felt like you were passed feeling embarrassed. The teller looked at you sympathetically when you asked for the Delta non-stop flight to Incheon.

“Soulmate?” She asked, tilting her head curiously when you slid her your ID and your debit card, all of the money you had from selling your things on it. Just enough to pay for your ticket. 

“Yeah. Almost two years since I’ve seen him.” “My God,” she gasped, typing away on her keyboard. “It’s good you’re going now, I could never survive being away from my soulmate for that long. I was away from mine for a month when he was on a business trip and I was hospitalized!” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you rasp, watching her smile sadly in your direction. “I hope things go well for you. Have a safe flight to South Korea.” She slid your ticket, debit card, ID and itinerary over her desk, watching you slowly reach out to grab it. “Get lots of rest when you land.” “Thank you, I’ll try.” Feeling a little more pleasant after being wished well, you continued on your way. Through customs, the security check and the passport check, you did your best to keep back any coughing and the creeping feeling of nausea that was beginning to overwhelm you. Finally, you arrived in the boarding area, taking a seat with your bag on the floor, in between your knees. It was still a while before your plane would even arrive, so you plugged in your phone and decided to watch a movie. 

Night crept over the lounge, the windows displaying a slowly setting sun. After your movie ended you kept yourself occupied by watching the planes come and go until the tarmac was lit up with guiding lights that looked like stars. 

‘Flight from Toronto to Incheon nonstop now boarding.’

Finally.

You stumbled along and waited in your line, looking at your seat number. It was near the back of the plane, which would be loud, but at least it was close to the bathroom. The boarding attendant gave you a look with squinted eyes, but he still scanned your ticket, looked at your passport and let you go through.

Down the hallway, your legs gave out and your body clattered to the floor. “Hey, are you alright!?” Someone behind you came running up, gently taking your arm and helping you off the floor. “Jeez, you just toppled over!” She observed you, holding you steady. “You’re nothing but skin and bones…” “Sorry,” you apologize, hoping that you’d stay upright when she let your arm go. “I haven’t been doing the best lately.” “That’s okay,” she assured you. “Don’t you worry one bit.” Cautiously, she began walking with you, holding out her hands as if she was expecting you to fall again. “Why are you here and not at home, resting?” 

“I, well... this is soulmate sickness,” you explain cautiously. “My soulmate is doing worse than I am, and I decided to sell everything I own to buy a one-way ticket. I’m going to see him.” 

“Man,” she breathed, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

You let out a small, hollow laugh. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” “What seat are you?” “39-A.” 

“Oh,” she smiled at you, just as the plane entrance was coming into view. “I’m 39-B! I’ll help you put your backpack up, okay?”

“Thank you,” 

She smiled at you. “My pleasure.”

The hostess greeted you both when your new friend helped you board, watching with stunned eyes as you passed her. You both made your way to the back of the plane. You slipped off your backpack and she put both hers and your carry on into the compartment above you. “Do you want the window seat, or will that make you nauseous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with an empathetic smile. “Would you be okay with switching? I’m supposed to have the window, but..” 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! Here, sit down with me.” Once you both were seated, she held your hand. “So, what’s your name?” 

“It’s (Y/N),” you answer slowly, giving her a smile when you feel her hand take yours. It had been so long since someone had given you any physical affection. “I’m Nia,” she grinned. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After the plane took off, Nia did everything she could for you. She made sure you had a blanket, water, and she even had wipes in her purse that she kept on your forehead to make sure your fever stayed down. Nia talked with you about her boyfriend, showing you part of her scar that was on the back of her neck. She told the story about the last time she was in Korea, lost and out of her depth. Wonseo, her soulmate, had bumped into her, not paying enough attention to avoid her when she stopped to try and read a street sign. She, in turn, had a scar on her back and on her scalp, while his, funnily enough, was on the top part of his chest and his nose.

When you told her about meeting Mark and your own scar, her happy grin only seemed to grow wider. “I’m a fan,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up with media because before he stopped his activities, he started wearing that Star Wars sweater everywhere. Everyone knew it was from you since the first time he ever had it with him was in Pearson two years ago. I knew I recognized you, but dang, girl. You look terrible compared to then.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I tend to stay away from it all now, it just stresses me out.” She nodded understandingly. “Have you thought about the Gold Ceremony? Wonseo and I are actually in the process of planning ours, and I’m on my way home from meeting a bridesmaid that still lives in Canada.” 

“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” you answer honestly. “It’s all so nerve-wracking, don’t you think?” 

Nia shrugged. “I suppose your situation is a little different from everyone else’s, so I understand the aversion. I love the romance of it all, you know? Gold coating your scars so that everyone can see it as a sign of your commitment? Ah, it’s so exciting!”

“Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask him,” you say quietly, smiling at Nia. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, girl. Having your entire chest exposed to everyone around you may be a little weird even if you are getting married, y’know?” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

You kept little conversations going, occasionally stopping to take small naps. The two of you also exchanged numbers, and you felt happy that you had made a new friend. Eventually, daylight began to peek through the windows of the plane, signalling the time change and that you would soon arrive in Korea. 

Truthfully, no matter what Nia did for you, you only felt worse. You smiled and held back your nausea, but you could feel that as every moment passed, you declined further and further into your sickness. When the flight landed, you were happy that the sense of vertigo was gone, but you weren’t sure how long you would last without passing out. “Want me to help you through customs?” Nia asked once the seatbelt sign was turned off. She helped you stand, taking down your backpack for you and securing it on your shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” you said quickly, grasping the seats as you made your way up to exit the plane.

“You’re far from that,” Nia reassured. “I won’t be able to stay with you the whole time, I just want to make sure that you make it to the people waiting for you okay. You said three of your friends were coming to meet you?” “Yeah,” you nod, thanking the hostess quietly as you pass her. “Thank you, Nia.” “Anything for a friend.” Slowly but surely, Nia helped you through the check-in and declaration stations, leading you through each step. Once you both got your passports checked, she turned and smiled at you. “I have to go get my suitcase now. Be safe and keep in touch, okay?” Nia hugged you ever so gently, before waving and taking her lead in the opposite direction you were to go, making her way to grab her suitcase off the conveyer. 

“See you,” you called behind her, steeling your nerve. You could make it. While you could barely read the directions with your now blurring vision, you managed to make it to the meeting area. Just barely in your line of sight were Rhiannon, Donghyuck and Johnny, holding up a rainbow sign with your name on it. You felt your chest flare-up, and if it was due to your sickness or your happiness you couldn’t tell, but you still began making your way toward them, smiling and waving.

That was until your body finally gave in. ~ “(Y/N)!” Rhiannon immediately dropped the sign and made a beeline for you as you toppled to the ground, Johnny and Donghyuck not far behind. She grit her teeth, doing her best to turn you over and hold you.

Donghyuck reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, ready to call an emergency number if Rhiannon couldn’t determine that you were breathing. He sighed with relief, luckily the airport was mostly empty and nobody would crowd you. “Is she okay?” Johnny knelt down beside her, looking on with worry. Rhiannon quickly checked your pulse and held her hand above your mouth. “Seems like she just passed out, she’s still breathing.” She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest. 

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. “We should get her home, then. I’ll carry her, you grab her backpack.” 

Rhiannon nodded and slowly took your backpack off while Johnny picked you up. “Let’s go.” 

~

Everyone was waiting in the living room for Johnny and Rhiannon to return with you, after hearing them explain what happened when Taeyong called to check-in. They knew they couldn’t tell Mark about what happened since his condition was not much better. He was in his room, nearly unaware of everyone sitting and waiting with bated breath. Yuta and Jungwoo stood up quickly when the door handle turned and opened, revealing Rhiannon and Donghuck. Johnny followed in close behind, you in his arms, barely conscious.

“Hi, everyone,” you rasped, smiling as best you could, with lidded eyes. 

“(Y/N),” Doyoung stood. “We’ve all missed you.” 

“Yeah,” Jungwoo agreed. “We’re glad you’re home.” 

“Thank you,” your words were soft, laboured. “Where’s Mark?” You looked up at Johnny tiredly. Johnny smiled gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.” 

You did your best to stay awake, suddenly beginning to feel a little better. Soon you both came across a door, the door slightly ajar. Johnny pushed it open gently with his foot.

“Guess who’s here?” He called into the room, and as soon as you lay eyes on Mark, you felt both simultaneously happy and guilty. Mark was skin and bones like you were, hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He was shivering as he struggled to sit up, large and thick blankets slowly shifting as he moved. “(Y/N),” he said, his lips forming the most endearing smile. “(Y/N), you’re here,” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Johnny carried you to Mark’s bed, gently placing you down next to him in the spot where he had just barely pulled back the blankets. You had your head laying on Mark’s chest as soon as Johnny put you down, Mark’s arm immediately wrapping around you. You both breathed in a deep sigh of relief, and you felt your nose beginning to clear up. “You could probably use some water. I’ll be back.” Johnny quietly left the room, and as soon as the door shut, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 

You felt life coming back to you, but the long flight and the months of hardship still weighed heavy on you. You knew that this was your condition because you were struggling, and you had just sacrificed everything to be here. Now, on top of being sick, you were dirt poor. But, at least you were with your soulmate, and at least you were with all of your friends. At least you finally felt like you weren’t dying. “You can sleep,” you hear Mark whisper as he moved his other arm to touch your face. “I can tell you’re tired.” 

You smiled weakly. “Okay, as long as you sleep too.” Mark laughed softly. “Agreed.”

Not long after, the door creaked open once again. Johnny had come back with a glass of water, followed by Rhiannon. Johnny placed the glass of water on the nightstand next to your bed, while Rhiannon watched you and Mark sleep for a moment, holding the small framed photo in her hands, the one that started it all. She placed it next to the glass of water, adjusting it so you would see it when you woke up.

“Sleep well.”

[blockgamepirate]

So what are your thoughts on the Syndicate? I'm personally psyched for Techno to do some anarchist things other than "blow shit up," though his goals still seem very destruction-based. I'm also nervous about the potential for Dream to somehow use this to his advantage. ( - quicksandblock)

I’m sure the plot will SOMEHOW end up ruining things no matter what. :p They need their conflict, after all. For the audience retention. Hopefully it’ll be an interesting kind of conflict, though. I feel like the betrayal thing is kind of overplayed at this point but there’s plenty of other stuff that could happen. Possibly with Dream, like you said. And this also allows Techno’s character to be more proactive rather than reactive.

But yeah I’m genuinely excited, this is actually starting to sound a lot more like the kind of anarchism that I’d recognise. I liked the retirement arc fine because it was nice and chill, but honestly this is much better because they’re actively doing shit. And not gonna lie, I wasn’t a huge fan of the pacifism thing, it was just jumping right to the other extreme from all-violence to... not even just non-violence but in fact not doing anything at all really? Like all he did was talk to Lannan and Vik for a bit and hang out with Phil. It really was just retirement. Fair enough for his character, even if it was a bit sudden, I mean everybody has burnouts and needs to take breaks or even to retire from the movement entirely and that’s 100% valid, but it’s not really any better for achieving liberation, you know.

I mean I liked that he was putting more thought into the ideology and demonstrating some of it by just chilling out with the villagers and whatnot, but that’s not the anarchist content I signed up for :p (I don’t even really mean violence necessarily but some action of some sort. My favourite bits were him sneaking into L’Manberg.)

And then he kinda jumped right back to all-violence with the revenge arc. Not entirely, I mean there were the posters, there were attempts to recruit Tommy which involved some actually reasonable arguments in my opinion, there was some effort put into maintaining the anarchist thing at least nominally, but overall the goal was just to destroy L’Manberg and cause massive amounts of destruction. Which is honestly just not the best tactic for overthrowing the government, it’s really not. I mean it WORKED but I still think it was mostly incidental, since the country was already falling apart from the inside. Obviously it helped that the whole thing blew up, but without the internal conflicts, it would have just been rebuilt again and all he would have accomplished would have been revenge and cementing his own reputation as a violent monster. I realise that the revenge part was intentional and probably wouldn’t have been as satisfying if it didn’t involve all that destruction, but ideologically and tactically? Not great. Which Techno’s character himself seems to be conscious of to be fair!

I’m hoping the Syndicate is going to be more of a reasonable midpoint? It sounds like it so far. It’s a revolutionary secret society so clearly they’re committed to getting results and it’s very likely that there will be some violence or at least hostility involved, because usually governments don’t just go away by asking nicely, it’s just not a goal that you should expect to achieve through peaceful means. But at the same time there seems to be more of a focus on the ideals and recruitment, actually convincing people. And just the fact that they’re creating an actual anarchist group is just very nice. I like it, it’s actual anarchist organising! And honestly, the underground resistance thing is one of my favourite tropes, that’s what really sold me on Dream SMP in the first place; the Pogtopia arc. It wasn’t perfect but I was hooked anyway. And Phil and Techno’s friendship just makes it so much better already, as does the fact that the Syndicate is actually open and clear about its own goals and aiming to recruit people who agree with those goals. And the fact that it’s actually anarchist makes it automatically better, obviously.

Also, as much as I’m amused by Techno’s awkward attempt at recruiting Niki, that’s just so relatable. These things never really go smoothly. And I’ve been there, trying to get something started with very little personal experience and massive social anxiety issues lol. (I mean I haven’t tried starting an actual revolutionary society, overthrowing an actual government is a bit too stressful for me and it’s not really an opportune moment for it right now where I live, but I may or may not have been involved in some direct action kind of stuff. Definitely nothing illegal, of course...) But like, the thing you really need to have a handle on is proper security culture so you don’t get everybody in trouble, other than that it’s okay to fuck up some things or just be awkward. And I’d say Techno is probably paranoid enough for the security culture bit, I think we can check that one off.

And I mean the talk with Niki didn’t even go that badly, probably. I still need to go check her side, I was watching her up until Techno went live but I didn’t get her reaction afterwards.

I feel like Techno is still a bit hazy on the theory but he has the spirit? I guess? And I mean to me that counts more than being super well read but only using it to whine about other people doing anarchism wrong. Not that there aren’t some warranted criticisms re: Techno’s character... Mostly I’m hoping he’ll chill with the torture and kidnapping and stabbing random bystanders? Might be too much to ask, he really seems to like buillying people, but I’m hoping. He could bully Eret, they’re a king after all. Eret’s schedule is just kind of unfortunate I guess. Doesn’t line up well with Techno’s streams. Or if Techno figures out that Sam is the prison warden, that’s also a valid target. Prison guards are definitely enemies of freedom, it’s literally in their job description. Plus Sam stole his horses and tried to kill him that one time.

Then again landlords are definitely enemies of anarchists too and apparently Techno is a landlord to Ranboo now so hmmmmm...

TL;DR: I really like the direction Techno’s new arc is going, I think aside from the random encounters with gods and mystical portals it’s a much more realistic representation of anarchists and anarchism (not that anarchism is mutually exclusive with mystical portals or anything but... ykwim), and it’s a promising start for a new storyline plotwise too.

[moccahobi]

Dear Diary [Jimin x Reader]

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Rating: E for everyone

Summery: You’re moving! Finally. Getting into a masters program in South Korea meant soooo much to you and it also offered the perfect opportunity to move in with your favorite pen pal and high school friend from an exchange: Park Jimin. A sweet and caring squirrel hybrid.

Word Count: 6.3k words

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid AU, Roommates AU, Friends to Lovers

A/N: OMGGGG. Formatting this was soooo annoying. Never again am I going to do so many dividers. It was not it chief. Lolol. I love this fic though! It is part of a collab for hybrids (check out the masterlist here) you should totally check them out! All the authors here are soooo amazing and their works are amazing in this too! Also! Thank you to @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​ and @spicykoreantatertots​ the two amazing people who betaed this fic for me! They helped soooo much!

Unlocking the door to your shabby apartment, you were struck by how empty it looked. It was really more of a ghost of your apartment at this point. You’d been slowly shipping your stuff over to South Korea for almost a month (really, as soon as you were accepted to Seoul University’s master program and Jimin agreed to be your roommate) and by now, all you had to take with you on your flight tomorrow was a small day bag with your necessities and a suitcase full of the clothes you’d worn this week. Your empty apartment really made the move feel real (something your job’s kind send off party hadn’t done). This move was real.

You had gotten accepted into your dream program across the world.

Tomorrow afternoon you’ll be leaving this area and moving in with Jimin.

You giggled and sat on your couch with a dazed smile stuck on your face. It wasn’t really your couch anymore was it? Your landlord was keeping all the furniture. Not that you really cared. How would you have possibly carted your large furniture across the world anyways? 

After almost four years of living here though… you’d be leaving behind many memories stored in this apartment. Like when one of your friends spent the night here after an evening of clubbing and ended up vomiting all over the rug you’d placed in the living space. He promised to pay for a deep cleaning the next day, which you took him up on… but then he just rented a steam cleaner. He was a funny person like that. Although… it was much less expensive than a cleaning service probably was. Looking back, you laughed at how worried you were of him finding one of your many journals stored on your bookshelf, so worried that you hid them under your bed. Not that it really mattered. He was a sweet friend and your journals just looked like notebooks.

Had you packed them? After shoving them under your bed all that time ago, you didn’t even think about looking back on them. Maybe if you hadn’t been reminiscing, you would’ve forgotten them here and lost them forever. Surely your landlord would just throw them away without a second thought. 

You’d been sleeping on an empty mattress and a small pillow for three days now, your comforter and sheets already in Korea with Jimin. You shuddered against your cold floor as you knelt down on the cold hard floor to grab your almost forgotten journals. With them in hand, you settled onto your pillow-less couch and carefully opened up the last journal you’d written. It was from the study abroad you did in South Korea in your last year of high school. Without that study abroad, you’d never have met Jimin and you most definitely wouldn’t be moving across the world for your masters program.

You wouldn’t want to do anything else though. Jimin was probably your best friend and this program was the opportunity of a lifetime. With a nostalgic smile on your face, you started to read.

Dear diary, 

Something crazy happened today! Ahhh! I was so shocked when Jimin, THE social butterfly of my school, came up and started talking to me. He’s a hybrid of some sort, not that it matters to me. He’s got a black bowl cut too… it looks funny with his furry pointed ears sticking out of it. Anyways, the conversation was a little stunted at first… I barely knew Korean and Jimin barely knew English but somehow we had a really good conversation. I am honestly so shocked. Here I thought that as an exchange student in South Korea, I’d just talk to other exchange students and mumble a few words to other students. I mean… I know Korean some but not much. It was… AHHH! I had so fun talking to Jimin. He’s so sweet and kind. I even added him on Kakao. He’s my first non-exchange family member on my Kakao. I can’t wait to get to know him more.

Dear diary, 

Jimin and I talk almost daily! Mostly through text because we don’t see each other much during school but that’s ok! He is in a lot more advanced classes than I but I think we are planning on meeting up for lunch this Wednesday. He even asked if I wanted to join him at the dance club but I said no… I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my only friend. Given, Jimin is so friendly and sweet that I bet he’d just laugh and try to teach me but still. Besides, he apparently competes. That’s what I’d heard from others at school at least. I don’t want to distract him from preparing for competitions. 

Dear diary,

I went to a karaoke booth with Jimin and some of his friends. It was so fun! Jimin’s friends were a little shy to talk to me but they opened up as we started to sing more. I didn’t expect them to be such weebs like me! Lol. They all joined in to sing the current theme song of One Piece. It was soo funny. The mic didn’t know who to focus on and we got such a baddddd score. Jisoo was sooo funny while singing (Jisoo is a sweet cat hybrid). Jimin is surprisingly a great singer though! I was surprised. Is there anything he is possibly bad at? I don’t know. 

After karaoke, he and I went to a park and just chilled. Instead of sitting at a bench, Jimin dragged me off to a small clearing and sat on a low tree branch. It was the first time I really thought of him as a hybrid because… like… sitting on that tree with his tail swaying slowly as he ate ice cream… I don’t know. It was nice to just be with him there but still. It didn’t help that he kept batting at me with his tail until I joined him on the branch. I could have sworn the branch shook as I joined! We probably both almost died because of that branch broke, we would have fallen! I am exaggerating… but still. 

You were such an extra kid at times. A laugh left you as you thought back on that afternoon spent talking while chilling on the tree branch. Now you knew there was no way you would have died even if the branch fell. The worst thing that would have happened would have been a broken bone (although with Jimin’s quick reflexes and hearing, he might have noticed the branch start to splinter before it even became an emergency for both of you). 

Looking over at the clock, you noted that it was almost nine at night. Jimin would wake up soon and start his last day roommate-less. You chuckled thinking about what he might be doing right now. Maybe he’d be meticulously rolling over his couch so that his hair wasn’t all over it when you first sat down, or he was washing all the blankets to make sure they were extra soft (in reality, he was probably hitting snooze for the 100th time that morning).  Either way, he was probably just as excited to see you again as you were. Sure you’d texted each other almost daily but it wasn’t the same. You both became super busy and the time zone difference made it hard to video chat often. 

Life happened and no amount of texting or video chatting seemed to make up for that.

For all you knew, Jimin looked so different from what you remember that when you arrive at the airport and look for him holding the “Welcome Y/n” sign he made, you will only be able to recognize him by the sign (and his tail… unless he dyed the dark brown tail to be some other color). 

Maybe you’d changed too. Your hair and style have undoubtedly changed… but would Jimin notice changes other than that? Maybe your scent had changed. You knew that hybrids had more sensitive noses and often identified people by scent (you learned that the hard way by trying to play hide and seek in the dark with Jimin and some of his friends at a party… never again). During your exchange, Jimin claimed you smelled like blossoms (from how you’d read about smells in the past, you knew there was more to one’s smell than just one thing but you didn’t push Jimin for more). Maybe you’d ask Jimin again sometime.

A vibration from your phone took you out of your thoughts and when you checked the notification, you chuckled. It was as if Jimin knew that you were thinking about him. 

Jimi: I built your bedframe~

Jimi: When your sheets arrive today I will make your bed. That way you don’t have to worry about all that after such a long flight. 

Jimi: Can’t wait to see u again!

You: Thank you

You: I am excited to see you soon too!

Looking down at your worn journals and gently rubbing their spines, you decided you wanted to have a journal for this journey too. Given your track record of starting and dropping journals, you’d probably only keep at it for a month or so but could still be very nice. There was one simple issue with your plan though, you didn’t have a notebook to write in… or a pen. Those things were in Korea by now. 

You’d have to leave the house to get that stuff… or you could just buy it at the airport tomorrow. The airport only sold overpriced stuff though… plus it would be cool to start writing now.

With that thought, you got up, put your shoes on, grabbed your wallet and keys, and walked to the closest general store. After little deliberation, you bought a slender black dotted notebook and gel pens. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you sat on your couch again, pen poised to write. This would be fun. 

Dear diary,

I am moving tomorrow. 

I am moving halfway across the world to live with Jimin, a squirrel hybrid and my best friend. I was accepted into my dream masters program and will be living in South Korea on a student visa. I am so excited to see Jimin again. Has he changed much or is he still the same old sweet guy who hid in trees to think and talks to strangers? I’ll know soon. 

Well… it won’t be that soon. I have to fly to South Korea first. 

It’ll be a long flight. I’ll arrive in Seoul tomorrow at 5pm and Jimin will take me out to dinner with some of his friends before we just relax at our shared apartment. Almost all of my stuff is already in the apartment. I’ve been shipping them across for a little over a month or so now. 

I am so excited. 

I should probably eat something and go to bed though. Tomorrow will be long and full of tedious airport procedures… yay! Note the sarcasm. 

Good night. 

Let’s see if I use you.

Dear diary,

It is almost time to board. I am so excited. When I was packing, I thought that I would be more anxious about the move and make a little sad about leaving my friends and family behind, but I don’t feel anxious or sad. Ok… I am a little sad. But my excitement outweighs my sadness. I’ll be leaving some friends behind but I will be making so many more! And I’ll finally get to see Jimin again as well. 

Oh.

My flight is about to board. I guess I will talk to you later then!

You were exhausted by the time you finally sat down in your seat, ready to see Jimin again and sleep in a made bed. The flight would be a long slog full of you getting up to use the bathroom, walking down the isles just to move, reading a book because it was one of the few forms of entertainment you had, and drinking lots of water. It was exhausting (somehow), yet time moved and eventually you found yourself staring out at Korea’s landscape. 

The city was alive and so pretty. For a moment you forgot that you were tired. Given the second you got up, you remembered it all again. Your legs felt sore and tired from sitting in one spot for so long and your eyelids were almost sheets of lead by now. As you waited for the people in front of you to leave the plane, you turned your phone back on (you’d bought a cellular plan last week for when you would be in Korea). As soon as it connected to your new plan, you were bombarded with excited messages from Jimin that he’d sent all through his day. From photos of food he’d cooked for your first dinner together to the ‘Welcome to Korea Y/n’ poster he made for you. It made you smile and  as you neared where he said he would be waiting for you, you grew even more excited once again. 

Would you get along with his friends?

Would your schedules match? 

Jimin came into view before you could keep thinking, his “Welcome to Korea Y/n” sign much bigger and grander than you imagined. There were two hybrids flanking either side of him, one you recognized as Jisoo from high school and the other you’d never met before. Even from the six or so meter distance you were at right now, you could see Jimin’s tail quiver excitedly. You sped up. Six meters couldn’t end soon enough. Jimin handed the poster to one of his friends and engulfed you in a suffocating hug, his warmth flooding you. Almost immediately, you felt a sense of home in Jimin’s arms, your bodies melding together nicely and a sense of calm settling over you. You didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t until one of his friends coughed awkwardly that Jimin released you and held you at arms length while giving you a once over. 

He looked good. 

Not that you expected much else from the dancer. Numberless days spent in the studio sculpted his body better than any artist you knew or studied could have done. Miraculously enough he’d somehow developed a sense of style. You especially loved his colorblocked button up shirt that seemed to shine in the dingy airport. 

“Nice to smell you again, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said, a shit-eating grin splitting his sweet smile as he winked at you.

A loud snort left one of Jimin’s friends, who appeared to be a pig hybrid. A cute pig hybrid at that. A shy blush bloomed across his handsome and plump face before he asked to take your suitcase (something you happily let him take). Jimin chittered quietly next to you as you quickly introduced yourself to his friends (the pig hybrid’s name Minju and the other, a mutual high school friend, Jisoo). The four of you started to leave the airport. 

“I wouldn’t have invited Jisoo and Minju to come and pick you up but I don’t have a car… I figured that you’d rather not lug all your stuff around the subway.”

“Out of all three of us – four of us I guess– I am the only one with a car.” Jisoo injected happily, twirling his keys around one of his slender fingers.

You laughed and nodded. Content to just listen to the three of them banter and talk as you were led to Jisoo’s car. They seemed content to embarrass each other by telling you about things they’ve done in the past that varied in severity from mistakes while dancing to drunken nights spent together. At one point, you even added in a story of Jimin and Jisoo fighting with sparklers, getting burned, and then burning all the sparklers as “revenge”. The banter didn’t stop until the car stopped and by then you’d felt as if you had spent more than just one year and a car ride with them.

“Now, Y/n-ssi, I know that you and Jimin talked about going back to his place and having a relaxing night–”

“We did and I’m excited to eat the food Jimin made. If it’s edible.” You added, smiling as Jisoo laughed and Jimin shouted.

“Yes. Well, Jimin had to make a deal with me to get me as a chauffeur.”

“It was a damn rotten deal.”

Minju laughed, “Whatever you say Chim. He’s still gotta honor it. So we are getting some food.”

A large and towering building faced you from outside the car and if the sign was anything to go by, it was more than just a restaurant. It was a karaoke place. A smile grew on your face as you looked up at it. Tonight would be fun… even if you were tired.

Dear diary,

Tonight was amazing. Sure I’d hoped to just settle into Jimin’s and my apartment and go to bed early after eating… but instead Jimin treated Minju, Jisoo, and I to dinner at a karaoke place. I’d have to look but it might have been the same place Jimin, Jisoo, some of Jimin’s friends, and I went to in high school. Not that it matters too much. We had so much fun! By the end of the night I even had Jisoo’s and Minju’s phone number too. Hopefully we can all be friends. 

Jimin has changed in ways I hadn’t noticed when we talked online. He seems to have picked up this habit of chittering. I want to try to figure out if there is something that causes him to chitter or if it just happens. Near the end of the night I tried paying attention to that but it was hard. Almost always when he started chittering, I was doing something. It’s good to be around him again. I missed him more than I realized.

Dear Diary, 

I start classes tomorrow! Yay!!! I also have a job interview tomorrow… which is less exciting. I knew that I would need a job and that I would have to wait until I had officially signed the lease (which happened literally the day after I moved in), but it was still so much work! Jimin has been helping me through which has been suuuuper helpful. After he comes home from the studio and eats– I have been cooking for him since he’s been busier than me– he’s been helping me modify and send in my resumes to places. It’s nice. We sit next to each other on the couch and just… put our heads together to get it done. 

After finishing that, he and I watched a movie after (this has happened two times!). We’ll cuddle together and watch some movie Jimin’s decided I need to watch. He’s a good cuddle buddy. I’ve enjoyed it. Well… wish me luck on my job!

“You’re back? That was fast! I barely had time to finish making dinner!” Jimin called out as you entered, tired from a long week (more like a long month or two by now) of classes and work but nonetheless happy to be home with Jimin. 

Throwing your bag on the closest chair, you went to him and gave him a tight side hug. Almost immediately, you felt some of your built up stress leave you. He was magical like that. You could be having a horrible day and just the sight of your best friend would make it all so much better. The nights where you would sit on the couch together and read or watch tv or just talk were your favorites. Jimin’s head would slowly drift into your lap and you would start to play with his soft hair and ears, your eyes trailing his beautiful face. Tonight would probably be one of those nights if you had any say in his evening plans. 

Jimin’s tail quivered and tickled your nose.

“I am sorry you had such a rough day, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said with a whine and you felt him move to set whatever he was holding down.

“It’s life, I guess.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, ”Jimin turned around and started hugging you tightly as well, gently rubbing his cheek against your neck, “I don’t like it when you’re this stressed, Y/n-ah. Let me take care of you tonight. I don’t want you stressing anymore tonight.” 

You laughed but gave in as Jimin started leading you to the couch before he started to bring the food he made into the living space as well. Soon enough, you were being coddled by Jimin who was making sure you ate and cuddling you as the two of you watched some random show. Sleep didn’t find you that night though. For some unknown reason, butterflies were hatching in your stomach and all you could do is feel them flutter around while wondering why you were possibly feeling such flutters. 

Less than a month later, as snow started falling down rapidly, you found yourself in a similar situation. It was your turn to make dinner, which wasn’t a problem because it also happened to be one of the rare days you had off. It was almost 8 at night by the time you finished dinner, the sun long set and Jimin would be home soon. You’d just finished setting the table and were scared by how harshly Jimin slammed the door shut. Normally he was so careful with closing the door, respectful of your neighbors and not wanting to damage anything. 

“Jimin-ah? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? Have you been giving spare keys to your friends?”

You laughed and grabbed his backpack from him, “Aish. Why would I do that? We agreed not to. How was your day?”

Jimin walked into his room, his door open as he started changing. All the while he was venting. The students didn’t catch on to his newest dance as fast as he’d hoped and during break he heard them complaining. Then he ended up needing to take on an extra class because one of his coworkers bailed and he didn’t have time to practice for his showcase next week. Which was also a complete mess because everyone was being complete idiots, not that Jimin would ever tell them that.

“I’ve been looking forward to dinner all day though.” Jimin said with a large smile on his face as he sat down at the table, you joined him.

After dinner, you and Jimin sat on the couch and as Shrek was playing, he curled up next to you and rested his head on your lap, demanded pets. You wanted to laugh and make fun of him for being so clingy but refrained. He was so stressed. Now wasn’t the right time to make fun of him and his vulnerability. Plus, part of you relished in him wanting cuddles from you. 

Dear Diary,

I am sorry that I’ve been neglecting you. Lol. I’ve been so busy! Being a student full time with a part time job is stressful. Who would have thought? Jimin’s been stressing sooo much over his latest dance performance. It is honestly stressing me out. 

It probably isn’t healthy for him either. He literally spent the whole weekend practicing at the studio… I dropped off lunch for him both days. AND yesterday was one of his days to make dinner and instead of telling me that he couldn’t, he simply didn’t return to the apartment until, like, 10pm. I was so worried. THEN! He got upset at me for assuming he’d be cooking when his show is this Friday. Like, sorry I wasn’t informed that you wouldn’t be. 

More importantly though, I am worried about Jimin. He used to come to me before his performances and we would talk. I was a person he could turn to for stress relief, but all he’s done leading up to this performance is snap at me and hide away in his studio in preparation. I don’t want him to be this stressed out… 

What should I do?

By the next day, you’d figured out what must be done. You were going to forcefully bring Jimin home and the two of you would relax. All of Jimin’s favorite foods were laid out on the living space’s coffee table and you’d even gotten some extra skin care stuff because you knew Jimin loved that. This night would be all about relaxing. Hell, you were even prepared to massage Jimin’s gross feet and back. You’d do anything to make sure that Jimin could relax some. 

You just had to… go to his studio and interrupt him in the middle of his practice… and forcefully bring him home. 

No big deal. You could do it.

Right?

Right.

With a deep sigh, you gave your relaxation set-up a final once over and left the house. It was already 5pm and if you were going to make Jimin relax, you were going to need to start it soon. All throughout driving to Jimin’s studio, you were thinking over the many ways you could try to convince Jimin to relax and when you finally made it to the studio, you realized another issue: 

You had no idea which room he had rented out today.

With an awkward smile and a nod at the receptionist, you made your way into the building. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hard to find Jimin… 

Of course it was hard. He just so happened to be in the third floor studio furthest from the stairs. When you found his room, you noticed he wasn’t alone. Minju was also visiting him. Neither of them noticed you approaching the door. Both were sitting and talking and when you reached the door you started to be able to hear tidbits of what they were saying.

“You’re going to… Seriously?”

“Yeah. I figured it’d be a super sweet way to confess. It’s why I am stressing so much about this performance. It has to be perfect.”

Oh.

You didn’t open the door.

Jimin liked someone? 

Why didn’t you know?

You were best friends right?

Best friends were supposed to tell this stuff. 

Sadness and disappointment filled your stomach and you contemplated turning around and just letting Jimin practice. Clearly this was important to him. You didn’t want to get in the way of him and another person.

“I don’t know man. Y/n… like this.”

“Like you would know? You’ve known her for the equivalence of a year and then some! I have been… five years now. I was… and as she celebrated!”

“Woah, Jimin-ah… I’m going to go now. Good luck.”

What?

Your brain was short circuiting. He liked you? You must have misheard that. That wasn’t possible. Jimin was… he was a catch and you were just you.

Did you even think of him that way? 

“Oh! Hi, Y/n-ah. Crazy seeing you here!” Minju practically shouted, a smirk on his face as he looked back at Jimin. 

Fuck! Somehow you managed to mumble a hello to Minju before shuffling into the dance studio and looking at Jimin. He looked tired. He also looked shocked and afraid. 

You weren’t supposed to hear what you just heard.

“O-Oh… Y/n-ah! What are you doing here?” 

“Well… I, uhhh, I came because I was worried about you. You’re coming home whether you like it or not and you’re going to relax with me.” You tried to be assertive but all the gusto you’d worked up seemed to have disappeared with Minju. 

“O-Ok.”

“How much of that c-conversation did you hear, Y/n-ah?”

You sighed, “I…,” Were you about to be honest about this? 

Did you want him confessing in front of a crowd of people?

No.

“I think I heard you say that you were planning on confessing to me after your performance?” You didn’t sound sure of yourself, not in the slightest. Not that you knew how anyone could possibly be sure of themselves in such a situation. Jimin himself seemed to deflate, his eyes wide.   

“Fuck. This isn’t how you were supposed to find out. I had–”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his confirmation of wanting to ask you out.

Why?

Did you have a crush on him?

“So you were planning on confessing?”

“Yeah? I am so sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Fuck. I didn’t think this through. We’re roommates. This–”

“I’d be down for a date…” 

“What?” Jimin jumped up, his tail quivering and ears twitching.

“I’d be down for a date. I… I don’t know if I like you back, romantically at least… but I might and I won’t know unless we try.” Jimin looked at you with shock and you started to feel much, much smaller than Jimin.

“What? Really?”

You nodded.

“Omo! Omo! You won’t regret this one bit!” Jimin was bouncing around the room, excitement clearly evident on his face as he celebrated. 

Next thing you knew, you were being pulled into a tight hug, Jimin gently rubbing your neck and repeatedly saying “thank you”. Those damn butterflies never left and as you looked at him, you started to really enjoy the idea of dating him. 

He was your little squirrel… but he wasn’t that little.

“When do you want our first date to be? Oh! I need time to plan! Can we have it after my performance? I really need to keep practicing for it… even if I’m not confessing to you after it anymore. Is that ok with you?” Jimin pulled away from the hug, holding you at arms length and looking worried once again. His brows were furrowed and his teeth worried away at his plump lips.

Huh… You’d never noticed just how cute his plump lips were.

“Hmmm… no.” Jimin paled once again, “Our first date… will be… right now.” You said with a smile and a laugh as his brows furrowed deeper. 

You reached up and soothed the space between his brows with a soft coo, “You’re super stressed, Jimin-ah. I don’t enjoy seeing you stressed. I planned to take you away from the studio tonight. I have skin care and food back home… and if we want we can also go to your favorite bibimbap restaurant before going back to the apartment. How does that sound?” 

Jimin looked conflicted, his cute beady eyes searching your face and moving around the room as he thought. Unless he spoke, you wouldn’t know what he was thinking over and you had half a mind to ask him to speak but instead, you simply waited for Jimin to come to a decision.

“I mean… I was hoping to have some really extravagant first date,” He started but he had already moved to his bag at the side of the room, “This does sound like a great date though… maybe more of a second date or a third date in my opinion–”

“Let’s count it as our second date then. No need to split hairs, Jimin-ah. I’ll wait for you outside the locker room.”

Without giving Jimin time to say anything else, you left and made your way down the stairs to where the locker rooms were. Jimin ran quickly down the stairs and bolted into the locker room, his soft brown ears pinned to his head from how fast he was going. You laughed before settling onto the floor outside the locker room and playing one of the games on your phone. It would be a flip of the coin to see how long Jimin would take. You were personally betting that he is so excited to go on the date that he rushes and is out in fifteen, but he could also want to look good for the date and in turn take an hour. 

Not that he didn’t always look good. 

Even when you just thought of him as a friend, you knew he looked good. Did you think of him as more than a friend? Possibly, yeah. The idea of going on dates with him and being romantic with him sounds amazing. You were really excited to see how this date will go. Distractedly, you tapped away at your game, your mind in la-la-land as it started to think up a future with Jimin. 

“Ready, Y/n-ah?” Jimin asked when he finally finished in the changing room. 

In the end, he took a whole hour and a half to get ready and you were almost positive that you saw Jisoo sneak into the changing room with a bag from your apartment, his sleek tail almost hit you in the face as he exited the locker room. As you looked up at Jimin, you were once again struck by just how handsome he was. He styled his hair away from his face somehow and he looked unfairly good in his black skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. 

You clambered up onto your feet, your legs numb from sitting in one spot for so long, and nodded at him with a shy smile. Gingerly, as if he was scared of breaking you, he grabbed your hand and the two of you left the dance studio. 

Dear Diary,

Jimin asked me out! I was so shocked! Like… it isn’t bad at all… It is actually nice. Really nice. I like it a ton… and even though we’ve only gone on one date so far, I am really starting to like the idea of dating Jimin. He is so… so cute and kind and attentive. We got bibimbap and then just did skincare and stuff. 

Something I am really glad about though is that I found out tonight. Apparently, Jimin was hoping to ask me out Friday after his performance… which would have been so embarrassing… (Imagine the pressure and… PDA is roughhh)… but I overheard him talking to Minju. Gosh. I wonder how Minju thinks of this. Did Jimin text him that we started dating? Is he just waiting until we see each other next? I don’t know what I’d prefer. 

But uhhh… Jimin and I talked about having a “real” first date after his performance. I’m a little apprehensive though… I don’t want him to be exhausted during our first date. I trust Jimin though. He knows himself better than anyone else and if he thinks that he can handle a date after his recital… then so be it. 

AHHH! I am so excited! Wish me luck. I really hope this works out. 

You adjusted anxiously in the theater seat, your dress feeling all too tight in all the wrong places as you looked over the recital directory. Jisoo and Minju were next to you, glancing at you and smirking every once in a while. Jimin most definitely told them that you’re dating… and it doesn’t help that you showed up to the recital over-dressed in preparation for your date with Jimin afterwards. Which was at some super fancy place… how he roped you into that? You don’t know. You were just glad that he’d agreed to go dutch. There wasn’t any way in the world that you’d let him pay for both of your meals at such an expensive restaurant. 

The recital hall was packed, people murmuring and talking excitedly. All of it stopped though when the lights dimmed and the host (a stout looking woman with some sort of large ears on her head) came on to introduce people. Soon enough the recital started and you became entranced by the many dancers who flounced around on stage. They all seemed so… natural up on the stage. Your breath was completely taken away when Jimin performed though. He was practically flying on stage and the way he moved was so… graceful and fluid. All too soon he was done. He’d taken the show. All throughout the rest of the recital you were transfixed. Jimin’s dance was playing on repeat in your mind, your breath stolen and thoughts completely empty. Soon enough, the show finished up and everyone around you was cheering. Almost half-heartedly, you joined along and followed Minju and Jisoo to where the meet-up was. 

Why were you so anxious about seeing Jimin now? You were about to go on a date with him and yet all you could think about was his dance. In no time, Jimin was bouncing over in a nice suit of his own. 

How were you supposed to function? 

Not only was he the best dancer in… in the world but he was also undoubtedly the most handsome man you’d ever met. The three were talking around you but you were still transfixed. A hand gently touched your back and you jumped. 

“Are you ok, Y/n-ah?" 

It was Jimin. He was looking at you with concerned eyes and a soft smile. Minju and Jisoo were gone. You two were alone. 

"I… Yeah. You were amazing out there. I am just… speechless.”

Jimin laughed quietly, a smug smile on his face as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“You’re ready for our date?" 

You nodded excitedly, walking out of the theater with Jimin in tow. This was going to be an amazing night. 

Dear Diary,

Tonight was AMAZING. I know I was apprehensive before about dating Jimin but OMG IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. He was such a gentleman and when we held hands I felt butterflies erupt and it just.. It felt so nice. Tonight literally couldn’t have go-

Dear Y/n’s Diary,

I promise to take good care of her. We had a great night and I plan on making her my girlfriend soon. Now if you excuse us, I need cuddles from her.

Jimin.

[purpleyellow]

Quick Visit

NCT 22nd member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“Mark drops by to visit after spending time away with SuperM”

a/n:  Sorry for not adding Haechan to this, I decided to let him take a break since SM isn’t giving him one. Don’t be shy and interact a little, ask box is always open. Any kind of feedback will be very appreciated💛

Renjun and Bee were sitting on the floor while peacefully painting on the cafe table. Well, Renjun was painting on a little canvas he had bought while the girl was indeed making little doodles on the wood of the table.

“You know this apartment is rented right?” Renjun raised an eyebrow at her as she made little roses with a paintbrush.

“I spoke with our manager and he said it was fine since Taeyong Oppa does pretty much the same in his room. Plus, we both know SM pays the landlord so well, he has no intention of ending the contract” Bee said recalling the talk she had with her manager the first time he saw her painting on the table.

“I swear you’re going to turn this place in a garden someday” Renjun did have a point, considering that the girl enjoyed painting flowers over anything, it was an understatement saying that the mostly white furniture was by now filled with roses, sunflowers, and tulips. 

She did paint other stuff sometimes, mainly random doodles of Disney characters or inside jokes, she manages to turn into pictures. Since no one complained Bee kept “decorating” the inside of the Dream’s apartment. The boys even think it was nice for some part, made the apartment less cold and more fun, as long as she stayed out of their rooms, she could do whatever she wanted with the furniture.

As she finished the small rose, Bee leaned back on her arms and checked the table from a more open sight to see how it was turning out. Realizing there was too much pink and yellow, she leaned in again and started to work on the grass, something she did in order for the boys to stop complaining she was making things too girly.

As she mixed different shades of green, somebody pressed the bell, making Renjun flinch and go over the line on his painting. Groaning he sat up and went over to the door to open it. Taking the little canvas on her hands, Bee took a napkin and started to wipe the boys mistake away, only leaving a little stain she was sure a coat of white paint would cover.

"Mark Lee!" Renjun exclaimed from the door making the girl's head shot up. The dreamies haven't seen Mark in a long time, due to the time he has spent in the US with SuperM.

With the commotion on the living room, one by one, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung came to see what was going on and greeted the boy with bro hugs and pats on the back.

"Marko Leeno." "How did you make time to visit us mortals?" "Did you miss us too much?" 

The boys surrounded him as they asked away, trying to make up for the long time they hadn’t seen each other.

Looking from the group, Mark noticed the girl still sitting on the floor while staring at them with wide eyes, mostly because moments ago she was sure he wasn’t in the same country as them. Remembering that Bee was a bit shyer than the others Mark decided to approach her instead of waiting for her to come back to reality.

"Hey you" he said with a big smile walking closer and she hastily got up, being engulfed in a bear hug by him "I missed you too" Mark spoke, patting her a few times in the back and letting her go.

From her side vision, Bee saw Renjun raising an eyebrow as she slightly blushed from the unexpected contact. Mark walked back to the boys and they all sat on the dining table, one of the few pieces of furniture that was still white.

Renjun and Bee went over to the kitchen to grab some snacks for the team to eat while talking. "I wasn't too weird, was I?" she asked while grabbing some chips "It's just that we haven't seen him in a while. I didn't even know he was in Seoul."

"It's just Mark, there's no reason to be so uptight" Renjun tried to calm her down "You were fine, just remember that he's that loser who came from Canada" As they walked back, she settled her bags on the table and sat next to Chenle, slightly repeating on her mind "It's just Mark".

"You've seen Haechan at the 127 dorms right?" Jeno asked grabbing a can of soda and opening it.

"Yeah, yeah. Taeyong wanted to come by as well, but he was too tired from the flight and decided to sleep before" Mark grabbed a chip and popped into his mouth "But I couldn't leave my dreamies waiting"

"Awwwwwn. Where's our presents then?" Chenle deadpanned and got softly slapped by the girl.

Mark giggled at their antics and answered "We bought some American candy for the dorms, I have yours in the bag I left by the door " as soon those words left his mouth, Jisung sprinted towards the entrance and came back with a bag Bee didn’t even know was there.

Dumping the candy on the table, Mark laughed as the others dug through the different packages, they didn’t pay much attention to the ones who were sold in Korea, rather entertained by the ones they hadn’t seen before. Not wanting to engage in a fight like Chenle and Renjun were, Bee grabbed some snickers and a few m&ms, she wasn’t going to pass on free candy just because she had already tried them. 

Putting his own hand in the pile, Mark took out a bar of Three Musketeers and passed to her “You’re probably going to like this one too, I had it with Ten Hyung and it’s pretty good” 

“Oh, thanks” she smiled shyly and Mark grinned at her cuteness, turning back towards the boys fighting. 

“I’m older than you, obey me and give it to me” Renjun pulled at a red package and Chenle pulled it back

“But Mark Hyung likes me more, just give it up” and with a last pull, the red package burst, and a bunch of colorful pieces fell on the table. Looking dumbfounded at each other, the two bickering boys didn’t notice Jeno picking up a little bag identical to the one that had been ripped open and adding it to his own pile of sweets.

[lovely-little-whumpee]

Yuliy Morrow - Auction

Okay I finally finished this chapter, I don’t know why it took so long, sorry.

Wordcount: 2.2k

Taglist (let me know if you want to be removed or added): @king-ivory @shigar4kifuck3r @whumphours @whumpzone

Cw: Drugging, human trafficking, non-consensual touching/manhandling, little bit of violence. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Yuliy groaned as he started to regain consciousness, a pounding headache warning him early that it was probably best to go right back to sleep. He’d been getting ready to do just that, when he remembered the events that led to his hurt head -kidnapped-they-took-me-away-they-drugged-me- in the first place. He shot up, only to yelp in pain as his forehead connected with something metal. The headache only got worse, and he felt nausea building in his stomach, though he didn’t know if it were a result of the pain or whatever it was they drugged him with.

Swallowing back the bile Yuliy opened his eyes, catching the sight of a metal lid over top of him, and the metal bars surrounding his sides. He was in a cage, and a rather small one at that. Sitting up—this time being much more successful— he realized that he’d have to stay hunched over or curled in the fetal position to be able to fit inside the small prison. Where was he? Why had he been taken? He tried to remember the words the broad kidnapper had spoken over the phone, but everything was a blurry haze. He couldn’t even remember the faces of his assaulters. 

He vaguely remembered the weeping woman, who in retrospect he shouldn’t have approached at all. Hindsight 20/20, Yuliy. Just as he began searching for a weak point in the cage, a door somewhere slammed open, and the lights to the room he was in flicked on. He flinched from the sudden noise and the flooding of the fluorescent lights, hating what they did to his head. He didn’t have the time to lament long before he was taking in as much as he could of his surroundings, what little he could see anyway. Because of the short height of the cage and the lid overtop, Yuliy could only see the bottom half of the room, if that. Still, he did his best to commit it to memory, not knowing whether or not it’d come in handy later on.

“Alright newbie, you’re a bit of a latecomer, so you’re the last one being sold out of this batch.” Wait, what? Yuliy was certain that he’d heard the words wrong, that his headache was making him imagine things. Sold? Him? Why? How?

His tongue sat heavy in his mouth, but he was eventually able to pry it open enough to speak. “Why… why am I here?” He asked, his voice sounding weak and hoarse, his throat dry and feeling like he’d swallowed sandpaper. How long had he been out? The man chuckled, and Yuliy could only see the man’s knees and below, and he doubted he’d see the other’s face for the time he was here. 

“Aren’t you a dumb one,” the man snickered, kicking Yuliy’s cage lightly and causing him to flinch as it rocked. “I’ve just told you, have I not? You’re being sold to the highest bidder. With any luck, we’ll never meet again.” The man’s voice sounded so flippant, and Yuliy opened his mouth to yell at him. “And I suggest you don’t speak anymore, unless you want someone to have to come in and gag you,” he threatened. Yuliy decided to ignore him on the off chance that they were close enough to civilization that he’d be heard by someone outside. 

“N-no! You can’t keep me here! People will— people are looking for me, right now probably! Just, just let me go!” He shouted, hating the fear in his voice and the way his words caught several times. The man outright laughed, having to take several moments to regain his composure, and Yuliy felt more of that budding fear begin worming its way up his chest.

“You think we didn’t do a little research on you before we grabbed you? You’re Yuliy Morrow, nineteen years old and no remaining family. You live in a rundown apartment in the shadier part of your town. The perfect catch.” Yuliy’s jaw fell slack as the man recited the facts about him, hating how quickly his odds were beginning to fall. “Sad to say this kid, but no one’s gonna look for you.” No, that wasn’t true, was it? Certainly his boss would look for him when he missed work on Monday, right? Maybe his professors would think he’d just dropped out, but perhaps his landlord would check in when he didn’t receive his monthly rent? 

Would the trail be cold by the time someone realized he was missing? 

Yuliy felt the nausea creeping up once more, and this time, he wasn’t able to swallow it down, and his back hunched from the force of the first retch. By the second, burning stomach acid wormed its way up his throat. By the third, the mouthfuls fell onto his clothes and the floor of the cage. By the fourth, the smell of it hit the air, causing him to cringe in repulsion and try not to retch again. He was unsuccessful, and by the time he was finished, he was gasping for air, his chest burning from the effort. 

“Gross kid, I mean we were gonna clean you up anyway, but you didn’t need to go and make our jobs any harder.” Yuliy wanted to curse at the man, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, and that if they hadn’t kidnapped him in the first place none of this would be happening. The words got caught in his throat though, what with him still heaving for breath an all. 

Suddenly, the lid to the cage was pried back, and how hadn’t Yuliy noticed the extra pairs of feet in the room? The vomiting probably had something to do with it. Before he was able to take in anymore than that, Yuliy’s head was wrenched back so hard that he could feel several strands of his hair loosen. A blindfold was then yanked over his eyes -it's-dark-I-can’t-see-what-are-they-going-to-do-to-me- and tied so tightly he groaned from the pain. His world went dark and he wasn’t able to balance properly, though he didn’t know if it was because of the general sluggishness he was feeling or because he wasn’t able to see. 

It didn’t matter to the strangers though, as they simply dragged him somewhere for several minutes. Without being able to see anything, Yuliy tried to rely on his other instincts, but he wasn’t practiced in doing so, and really was only able to hear shoes slapping against tile. What did they plan on doing to him? “Please… please just let me go,” he whispered, knowing that his chances were slim but still wanting to try anyway. Even having a one percent chance of getting out of his situation was better than none. Predictably, he hadn’t been answered at all, and he whimpered softly as the hopelessness of his situation continued to crash down on him. 

When they finally came to a stop, Yuliy could hardly tell up from down, much less how long they’d been walking or what type of room he was in. He was let go of by one of the bodyguards, but the other grabbed his wrists painfully and cuffed them. Yuliy tried to pull them back to his chest as a layer of protection between him and the invisible man, but a loud clanking sound and thud stopped him. “W-what?” He mumbled, trying to wrap his hands around the object in which his hands were tied to. It felt like a simple metal pole, rather thin but sturdy, as evidenced by it not moving a single inch no matter how hard Yuliy tugged on it. 

He only stopped his tugging when he felt hands pulling at his clothes, and then the unmistakable sounding of cutting fabric. He panicked, trying to jerk away but only managing a couple of inches because of the handcuffs. “Get off me! Don’t touch me!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, kicking out blindly but never being able to connect to anything. Without successfully being able to fend off the attacker, Yuliy’s shirt was eventually cut off. Despite his shouting and protests, his jeans were eventually cut off too. He could feel tears forming behind the blindfold because of the invasion -They’re-touching-me-stop-I-don’t-want-you-to-why-are-you-doing-this- and he yelped as the cold air hit his skin, causing the fine hairs on his body to raise. 

A gag was suddenly shoved inside his mouth, tied behind his head before he could comprehend much more than what it was. Belatedly he realized that it must’ve been a piece of cloth cut from his clothing. Someone then fisted the hem of his boxers -please-please-don’t-why-can’t-you-just-leave-them- before cutting them off in one smooth motion and in the sudden onslaught of panic and his hyperventilating, Yuliy didn’t realize he’d fallen to the ground, curling in on himself to protect the barest parts of him. The man didn’t care though, and Yuliy heard the turning of a faucet before he was sprayed with a powerful stream of water that was sure to leave bruises.

They hosed him down like he was nothing more than an object, and when they’d finally finished, Yuliy was shaking and sobbing quietly. Something soft was then thrown at him, hitting him in the chest before falling on top of his legs. He’d flinched, having not known what it was before, but now he was simply confused. 

“Put it on.” It wasn’t the same man from before speaking, and Yuliy burned in shame and embarrassment at how many people were seeing him so vulnerable, so -naked-they-took-all-my-clothes-and-hosed-me-down-they-all-saw-me-they-still-see-me-naked-they’re-looking-at-me- bare. It took several long minutes— filled with his quiet sniffling and blind fumblings— to find out that it was a pair of boxers they’d thrown at him. He quickly pulled them on, uncomfortable at how well they fit, like they’d known his size beforehand. Still, he wasn’t going to just not wear them. Any covering was better than none.

He was hauled to his feet, and his hands were uncuffed and re-cuffed behind his back. Though he tried to resist, even digging his feet into the concrete, he was still dragged along to another room. Little noises involuntarily bubbled up his throat, but with the gag most of them were almost completely muffled. 

Despite being blindfolded, the route they were going down seemed familiar in its length and the amount of turns. Yuliy knew that they were probably throwing him into the same room as earlier for convenience sake. He knew he was right when he was forced into the -too-small-I-can’t-move- cage as before, the metal cold and wet, like they’d hosed it down as they did him. “They show his pictures and information to the crowd yet?” One guard asked another, and Yuliy listened as intently as he could. They were showing people his pictures? What pictures? Had they taken them while he’d been unconscious? 

“Yeah, boss said they already started bidding and everything. Say he might be the highest sell tonight.”

“Thank fuck, I’m trying to get home.” Yeah me too, Yuliy thought, but he couldn’t say anything with the gag. With his hands tied behind him, he couldn’t really shift to get comfortable, and his shoulder dug painfully into the hard metal where he lay. Less than before, but still noticeable was the drug that must’ve still been in Yuliy’s system. Either that, or the blindfold was really messing with his perception of time, as it seemed to by quickly after that— which was the opposite of what he wanted. 

Eventually enough, the same door as before slammed open, and Yuliy flinched from the noise. “Alright get him prepped for our dear client here.” It was the man from earlier, the one who’d made the initial threat of gagging him. He hadn’t even realized the man had left. Was he the boss the guards were talking about? 

The man’s words then dawned on him as he was violently pulled out of the cage, his arm feeling as though it were going to be pulled out of its socket. He screamed and kicked, shouting the words “no”, “stop”, and “please”, most of it muffled and garbled, but the meaning was clear all the same. With his struggling, he managed to get a few hits on the two guards trying to wrestle him down, and then there was a strange limbo where he was suddenly weightless and floating, before gravity came back and he was slammed against the concrete floor, his head cracking painfully on top of it. Oh, that was gonna concuss. 

His blindfold slipped up a bit just as he felt the needle pierce his neck with an awful feeling of deja vu. When he glanced over, he saw two men standing by the door, although he didn’t know who was the boss and who was the customer. Which one held his life in their hands? “Alright Bram, he should be out long enough for you to get him home. If you’d like a refund, be sure to contact us within a week, or else it will be void.” The man named Bram didn’t look like he’d heard the other at all though, his eyes never moving from Yuliy.

Bram leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking like he owned the place instead of just being a customer. He smirked before he began speaking, eyes boring into Yuliy’s, “Silly pet, you weren’t supposed to see my face yet.”

Oh. 

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[bluepenguinstories]

Shot Out of a Canon

There was once a writer who fancies himself a farmer. But there was a brainstorm and he lost the plot along the way. So it goes, so it happens. I guess we’re going with this now. He took what little money he had and found himself an apartment. Well, he fancied himself a feast. He ate the walls and the carpet. Then I suppose he was a termite. Or someone with pica.

Every night he left his window open because his landlord didn’t allow An air conditioner. True story (probably). Crows would fly in and say, “I guess we’re going with this now. Then I suppose he was a termite.” He wasn’t used to their chants. Way back when he had a scarecrow. But now the landlord said “no!” So it goes, that’s what he had to contend with. If he was one of his characters he could shoo the crows away. But instead he shivered in his sheets as the demons under the bed tickled him.

Soon he had to find a job to make rent. So he sold his body, ever paragraph. Every line was followed by a line break.

That’s where he found himself cutting corners. He’d skip breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Little snacks from the office vending machine became his best friend ever morning and evening. Every night before work he recalled his good friend Gregor Samsa and his little predicament. That’s when he understood just what he had become. But it was too late because he formed a habit. He had dreams of killing his landlord. Nightmares of his landlord killing him. Sometimes the nightmares were more preferable.

That man never fancied himself a morbid person. But what little food he had in his fridge was covered in mold and funky substances. He eats them anyway when he’s desperate. Even in sickness he doesn’t break his routine. He could break his body, but not the habit. At least at work there was sometimes pizza parties. But he couldn’t shake the thought of chucking every computer and coworker out the window. As good as the elevator’s music was he wished the wires would snap every time he was in it. He’d always return home all out of energy. All of his clothes stripped, him on his back. That was all the energy he had. On sleepless nights he counted sheep. Later he thought of cowardly lions.

As it turned out, he had only written one thing: a manuscript about something or other. Three-hundred pages, all stained with coffee. Sent to a publisher, rejected and never to be seen again. That shouldn’t matter. Passion is passion but grew to lack it. One upside is that the publisher sniffed the stains. Lemon meringue latte. Despite the lack of passion, his boss admired him. His boss said, “I like your enthusiasm.” Even as that same boss cut his pay every month. In tandem, his landlord raised the rent on a whim. So he grew weary, soon penniless. Next, out of a job and all the better for it. On his resume he billed himself as a starving artist. But being famished doesn’t pay the bills. Being homeless was even less luxurious. He slept wherever the cops wouldn’t chase him off. All the while he thought of bacon.

That was all. Or at least the story I wanted to tell. If you’d like, let’s give it a different ending: He stumbled upon a million dollars. Moved back to the country. Bought a dog who he hunted rabbits with. Without fail, he always had a bountiful harvest. Reality is far less kind. But we never said anything about that, did we?

[talatomaz]

i’m home | maggie sawyer x sawyer!reader x lena luthor

a/n: i’ve been rewatching supergirl and i love maggie and lena so much (this is super long so sorry in advance)

this is based during s2/s3 so lena is 23, maggie is in her late 20s and reader is 20/21 so when maggie was kicked out of her house at 14, r was 5/6

warnings: mentions of torture, abuse, scars

word count: 4.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

A home is where you feel comfortable.

A home is where you’re able to share your deepest thoughts and feelings.

A home is where you’re supposed to feel safe.

A home was something you never had.

You thrashed in your captors’ hold. Their hands were firmly gripped on your arms, holding you in place as they dragged you back to that room. You shuddered at the thought of it. It was barely a room. More like a dungeon filled to the brim of weapons used to torture the inhabitant.

Your hands were bound behind your back. Now had it been rope or even cable ties, you would have been able to free yourself. But because of your nature, they had placed metal cuffs around your wrists, preventing you from escaping.

When you reached the room, they placed you on the metal table and bound your legs to the table and then removed the cuffs from your wrists and repeated the movement. Now chained to the table, they pressed a button at the side of the table which you knew would help prevent you from escaping.

The two men then moved to either side of the door and turned to face the woman who entered.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite experiment.”

You gave her a cold look and remained silent.

“Quiet today? Don’t worry. Soon we’ll have you screaming.” She chuckled.

She then turned swiftly to the door where another man stood, “We’ve got a problem in cell B.”

She inaudibly whispered something to the man who nodded and left before turning back to face you.

“I’ve got something to take of but don’t worry, I’ll be back.” She then told the two men to stand guard and keep an eye on you.

When she left, you rested your head against the cold metal and then jumped at the sound of shouts.

This was it. It was time.

You looked over at the men who had their backs to you and then closed your eyes and concentrated. Immediately, a key appeared in the lock of your cuffs. You twisted your hand so you could turn the key and free your wrist. Then you did the same to the other as the men in front of you were none-the-wiser. Once freeing your arms, you pressed the button and suddenly felt the rush of your energy coursing through your body.

The power barrier was broken.

You quickly removed the cuffs around your ankles and jumped off the table. At the sound, the two men turned and, after their moment of shock at seeing you liberated, they ran towards you. As much fun as it would have been to fight them, you didn’t have time so you teleported away to another part of the warehouse building you were in.

You found the room you were looking for and teleported in and held the man sitting at the desk in a chokehold before he lost consciousness and slumped against his chair. You began typing on the computer and with a few clicks, you heard numerous buzzes and couldn’t help but smile.

Everyone was free.

When you were about to leave, something in the corner caught your eye and upon realising what it was, you pocketed it and teleported outside the building. What you saw brought another smile to your face. Everyone was running out of the building, using their abilities to overpower the guards. You roamed the crowd and then locked eyes with her.

You ran to an isolated area and waited for her to follow. Low and behold, out from the shadows she came, alongside two of her goons.

“Now, now, back down Miss Sawyer. You know you’re no match for us.”

“On the contrary, it appears you are no match for me.” You brought the small device, that you took earlier, into view and channeled your powers through it.

Grinning at the woman’s face dropping, you spoke, “Goodbye, Lillian Luthor.” You pressed the button and teleported away.

***

Opening your eyes, you were stunned at your surroundings.

You were stood next to a modernised coffee house called CCJitters. You entered and the noise of numerous conversations filled your ears. You chose a high table and sat down, sneakily listening to the two people sat at the table beside you.

“Cisco, I don’t wanna hear it. You and your meta-human names are driving me crazy.” A brunette said, shaking her head.

“But Cait, it’s a good one. Please.” A long-haired man replied.

“No, Cisco. Tell Barry or HR. I don’t wanna know.” She said, stifling a laugh at the man’s sad face.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the duo.

“Hi.” The brunette smiled so you did the same.

“I was just wondering, where exactly am I? I just got off the train and I actually have no idea where I am.”

“Oh, you’re in Central City.” The woman replied.

“Yep, home to the Flash.” The man named Cisco added.

At the mention of the metahuman, your eyes widened as you forced to keep the shock from showing your face.

Shit. Forget being in the wrong town. You were on the wrong Earth.

“Thank you. Bye.” You got out of your seat and ran out of the coffee shop and into an alley.

How on Earth did you get here?

You’d heard of the Flash because he had appeared in National City a year ago and you’d overheard Lillian’s curiosity about the man from a different earth.

It was one of the reasons why she initially kidnapped you.

You had been studying Everett’s many-worlds theory at National City University, trying to create a device allowing you to explore different universes. Lillian wanted to adapt your device so she could travel in time and prevent aliens from arriving on Earth.

You took out the device and sighed, you needed a big power surge in order to get back to your earth. Meaning you were stuck here for the time being. Great.

You began to wander around the city when you encountered a news stand. Picking up a science magazine, you flicked through it and then paused when an announcement caught your attention.

“Attend the grand re-opening of the infamous Star Labs.” You murmured to yourself as you skimmed through the article and learned about the particle accelerator explosion that caused normal humans to gain powers and become meta-humans.

This place would definitely contain enough power for you to get home. Closing the magazine, you placed it back on the stand and set off towards Star Labs.

You quickly joined a crowd of people and entered the building. You looked around, taking in your surroundings. It was a large infrastructure, renovated to look like a museum of sorts. You continued walking with the group before noticing a blocked off section. You headed towards there and then teleported inside. You found yourself in a lab that was filled with computers and numerous amounts of high tech equipment.

But what caught your eye was the black box situated at the centre of the table.

Opening it, you gasped at its contents. Inside was a sleek black mask that, whilst simple, had a certain panache to it. You removed it from the box and placed it on yourself. Looking in the reflection of the metal table, you smiled.

It did well to hide your identity.

“What are you doing in here?”

You stilled, turning around to find yourself face to face with a, fashionably dressed, woman. She pressed her finger to her ear and spoke, “It’s Iris, we may have a problem here, Flash.”

In the blink of an eye, the latter appeared, staring at you.

“Who are you?” The man spoke.

Without responding, you teleported away and ended up in an open space area. Around you were more computers and what looked to be, an area where the Flash trained.

You heard the footsteps behind you and saw the woman named Iris, the Flash and the duo from the coffee shop.

“Hey, that’s my mask.” Cisco shouted. “It looks good.” He then added making you smirk.

You took out the device you had created and felt your powers surge through it.

“I really am sorry but I have to get back to my Earth.” Pressing the device, you disappeared.

“What on Earth? Who the hell was she?” Iris exclaimed.

“Yeah, and where’d she go?” Caitlin added.

“I may be able to find out.” Running up to a computer, Cisco began typing.

“I had a tracker implanted in that mask. Okay, so it looks like our mystery woman is from...Earth 38. Home to Supergirl.”

“Where is she now, Cisco?” Barry asked.

“The tracker was only designed to be able to locate the wearer on this earth. I’m lucky I was even able to track her to Earth 38, Barry.”

“Get me Supergirl, Cisco.”

Bringing up a screen, Cisco was able to connect to the DEO where Supergirl stood.

“Kara, you’ve got a problem.”

***

Arriving back in National City, you felt a wave of relief. You were back.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

You turned and headed towards the sound of screams. Running into an alley, you stopped when you saw a black-haired woman backing away from a large man.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” You shouted at the assailant who turned and sneered at you.

“Oh yeah? Or what? You’re gonna stop me in that stupid mask?” He laughed.

You smirked and teleported behind him. “Behind you.”

When he turned, you kicked him and punched him so he was knocked out cold.

You looked behind you at the smartly dressed woman. “You’re welcome. Stay safe.” You winked before disappearing.

***

After saving the woman, you removed the mask and found your storage locker that you had before you were taken by Cadmus.

Opening it, you sighed. Everything was still there.

When you were at NCU, you had a lot successful projects, many of which were sold to the University and the money you got paid, you put into an offshore account which only you had access to.

Removing the laptop from the locker, you logged on and checked your account, happy to see that it was untouched. You then began searching for apartments to rent and upon finding one, you went to the landlord and paid 3 months rent in cash so she would give you the furbished apartment. You then locked the door and settled in for the night.

***

It went on like this for a while. You spent almost all day in your apartment, continuing your research. Then spent your nights helping people.

It wasn’t long before people began to whisper about the Aetheryte.

The woman with powers of teleportation.

And you also caught wind that Supergirl and her secret government agency were searching for you.

All it took was one alien.

One alien that allowed you to be caught.

One alien that changed your life forever.

You hadn’t even been out looking for trouble.

You were just walking through the streets, enjoying your Big Belly Burger fries when you heard the crash. Everyone’s attention immediately went to the large purple alien towering over the fiery car explosion.

You quickly donned your mask and ran toward the alien. You began helping people get away and clear the area so no one else was in the danger of getting hurt. You started to battle with the alien, using your powers to prevent yourself getting hurt. You had successfully knocked the alien out when you stilled at the sound of voices behind you.

“Stand down, Aetheryte!”

With hands up, you slowly turned and found yourself facing a trio of women. Supergirl, a short-haired woman who Lillian mentioned was Supergirl’s sister, also known as DEO Agent Danvers.

And finally...Maggie?

Your eyes narrowed and you felt the tears rush to your eyes, threatening to spill. No, how could it be? Last you heard, she was in Gotham. That was what your parents had said. Well, it’s not like anything that came out of their mouths was reliable.

You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t form any words. You didn’t take notice as the two Danvers sisters walked closer to you, ready to restrain you if need be.

You were just focused on your sister.

You knew she didn’t recognise you.

How could she?

You were practically still a toddler when she left. It had been almost 15 years since you last saw her.

In person that was.

You had a photo in your wallet at all times which you later had framed in your apartment. It depicted you as a baby playing in Maggie’s lap who was around 12.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye when she had left. Your dad just ushered her into a car and drove her to your Aunt’s. You used to cry for her and slept in her bed every night until your parents...made you stop.

Blinking away your tears, you stared at the grown-up woman in front of you. Then, behind her, you saw the alien you fought come to and focus on Maggie.

Your eyes widened and you shouted, “Maggie, look out!”

Without hesitation, you teleported next to her and pushed her away resulting you in getting knocked to the ground by the alien. He was quickly restrained with power dampening cuffs and you groaned, your head laying against the gravelled floor.

Opening your eyes, you winced and saw Maggie kneeling above you. You felt her hands move to your face and gently hold onto your mask.

Removing the mask, she gasped and stumbled back. “Y/N?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You said before teleporting away.

Maggie heard Alex and Kara running up to her.

“Maggie, what happened? Who was that?”

She could hear the concern in her fiancé’s voice but she was a state of shock.

How could you be here?

How were you the meta that she was chasing after?

“I-Her eyes. I didn’t recognise her at first. But her eyes. I know her eyes. How? I didn’t-”

“Maggie, you’re not making any sense.” Kara said gently.

“Aetheryte. Her real name is y/n. She’s my baby sister.”

***

You appeared in your living room and staggered towards your couch. You fell onto the couch and teleported a pack of frozen peas from the freezer into your hand, and with a wince, you placed it against your head. The cold began to soothe the pain when you were disturbed by a knock at the door.

You pushed yourself off the couch and made your way to the door. You opened it and were shocked at the person standing in your doorway.

It was the woman you had saved when you came back from Central City.

“What are you doing he-”

“Oh my god, what happened?”

The raven-haired woman ushered you inside to your couch where she knelt between your legs.

Lifting up your chin with her hand, she began assessing your wounds, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I-Why-How are you here?”

“I have connections. Oh, I’m Lena Luthor, by the way.” She added as an afterthought.

“I know.” You laughed.

Everyone knew who the good Luthor was. She was the only Luthor any of National City’s residents liked.

“I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you but how do you know who I am?”

“First of all, you’re a Luthor. Second, you came up with my name. Nice touch, by the way, it’s very clever. The aether of crystals contain teleportational qualities.” You smirked.

“Thanks. So how did you get your powers?”

“Uh, well, it may come as a bit of shock. But, it was your Mum actually. She kidnapped me a couple of years ago. She wanted me to be a weapon for Cadmus and tried to adapt my research for her own purpose.”

“What?! God, I don’t even know what to say. I am so sorry. She is such an awful human being.”

“On that we can agree.”

You looked over Lena’s shoulder and saw the photo of you and Maggie smiling.

Abruptly standing up, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I have to do something.”

You teleported away, unwittingly leaving Lena hurt.

You appeared at the DEO and guns were immediately trained at you before they were lowered at Maggie’s command.

“Hi, sis.”

Maggie walked up to you and engulfed you in a hug, leaving you momentarily stunned before you hugged her back.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Maggie murmured and when she pulled away, you could see the tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry because I’m gonna cry and my mascara’s gonna run and then I’m gonna look like a fool.”

Maggie laughed and hit you lightly, “I see you haven’t changed.”

“Why fix something that isn’t broke?” You winked and she laughed again.

You smiled softly, “I’ve missed you, Maggie.”

***

After unexpectedly arriving at the DEO, you went into a room with Maggie, Alex, Kara and Jonn where you could speak in private.

“How are you here? Where have you been?” Maggie asked, placing her hands on yours.

“Everywhere really.” You sighed,

“It was bad when you were kicked out, Mags. It was awkward. I hated Papi. And Mami too. Especially when they began trying to erase you from our lives. I cried for you every day. I slept in your bed. I even hated you. Before I found out the real reason for your absence, I thought you’d left me-”

“I’d never have left you. You know that, y/n.” Maggie said, cupping your cheek.

“I know that now. But, I was a kid. I mean, so were you. I’m just sorry all that happened to you. I was 16 when I found out what actually happened. I was arguing with Papi, and it just came out. After that, god, I never knew I could hate someone that much. That’s when I knew that I could never ever tell them my secret.”

“What secret?” Alex asked.

“That I was exactly like my sister.” You shrugged.

“I just bided my time until I graduated and then I came to NCU and studied. Hard. I was successful. And then life got in the way. Again.”

“What do you mean? How’d you get your powers, y/n?” Kara asked, now dressed in normal clothes.

You let out a breath, dreading their reaction. “I was kidnapped a few years ago and experimented on.”

“By who?” Maggie asked hardly.

Jonn answered for you when you remained silent, “Cadmus”.

Everyone fell silent as they stared at you in shock.

“Did they hurt you?” Maggie whispered, scared to hear the answer.

“Depends on who you mean by ‘they’.” You replied, failing to meet Maggie’s eyes because even 15 years later, she could still see right through you. After a few moments of silence, you gave Maggie’s hand a quick squeeze.

“I think I should go. I just need some time.” Before leaving, you pulled the photo out of your pocket.

“I managed to save one, Magpie.” You said, watching as Maggie softened at the mention of your nickname for her.

***

Once leaving the DEO, you figured you had some amends to make, considering the way you had left Lena so you found yourself outside her office at L-Corp.

Knocking at the door, you entered at the soft “come in”. When you came into view, Lena instantly shot up out of her chair, shocked to see you and you both moved to sit on her white couch.

“I just came here to apologise. I realised that the way I left probably hurt you. I had to go see someone.”

“Maggie, right?” You barely contained the look on your face.

“I saw the picture of you two at your apartment. And she’s a friend of mine. So you’re her sister, huh?”

“Yeah. I only came here to let you know that I don’t blame you for what happened to me. You’re not responsible for your mother’s actions, Lena.”

“Thank you. And thank you for telling me what happened. I hope everything went well with you and Maggie.” She said, resting her warm hand on your knee.

You were about to say something witty when you started to tear up, “God, everything’s such a mess. I never thought I’d escape Cadmus. But I did. And then I thought I’d never see Maggie again. And now she’s back in my life. And my mind is all over the place. I need to be okay for her. She’s been through too much. I can’t add all my baggage onto hers.”

Lena brought her arms around you, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just overwhelming you and that’s okay. You have to accept your pain, y/n. If you hide it, it’ll just get worse, and before long, you’ll end up exploding, which isn’t something you want.”

“God, I’m sorry. I came here to reassure you and look at me,” you said, embarrassingly wiping your tears.

“You’re allowed to feel, y/n. Besides, if you want to make me feel better, let me take you out to dinner tonight. It’ll make me feel very reassured.” She winked, making you laugh through your tears.

“Okay, Lena. Let’s do it.”

Little did you know, that would be the start of something that would change your life for the better.

***

For the next seven months, you got to know Maggie better, catching up on the lost years. You all regularly met up and you participated in the Danvers’ game night. You even began training at the DEO but made sure your scars were covered up with makeup. That was something you weren’t ready to explain yet.

You also grew closer to Lena and it wasn’t long before Lena asked you to be her girlfriend. You guys decided to take it slow because of your collective baggage but that idea didn’t exactly take, considering you had asked Lena to move in with you after 4 months together which she immediately accepted.

Things were going well. That was until Lillian came back on the scene.

You were currently at the DEO, having just saved a family from a house fire, when you heard the incessant beeping on the screen.

“Supergirl, Aetheryte, there’s major radioactive material at...oh god, it’s L-Corp.”

Without hesitation, you immediately teleported to L-Corp and searched for your girlfriend. Upon finding her in her office, you pulled her in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

“Better now that you’re here. What’s going on?” She asked as you both hurried to the lobby.

“Something about radioactive material. Kara’s on her way.” As if on cue, Kara appeared at the entrance, Maggie, Alex and a large group of DEO agents beside her.

You were all on edge, waiting for the threat to present itself. Then you stilled when you heard the familiar voice.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite experiment.”

Your mind flashed back to the day you had escaped, it was the exact words she had uttered every time she saw you.

“Mother.” Lena spat out.

“Now, Lena. Enough with the attitude. How about you explain why you’re in cohorts with our very enemies? Forget it, no explanation needed. Just make your way over to me if you want to live.”

The former stayed put beside you causing Lillian to shake her head, “I expected better from you.”

Next thing you knew, there was a large explosion causing all of you to be flung back. You quickly brought Lena and Maggie back to their feet as Kara helped Alex.

“Quick on your feet, I see, y/n. Well, you better work fast if you wanna save the rest of the city. Statues don’t stand forever, you know. You too, Supergirl.” Then there was another explosion, but this time, it came from outside.

As everyone ran out to see, you remained in place, thinking about Lillian’s words.

“Y/N?” Maggie asked, concerned.

“I know what she’s going to do. The radioactivity Alex detected. That could easily have been because of a bomb...Wait. Shit. She’s going to blow up Supergirl’s statue.” You teleported to the statue despite your family’s shouts.

“That explosion could seriously injure her, Alex.” Maggie exclaimed.

“Forget the explosion. If that bomb goes off and she’s exposed to that level of radiation, she could die.” Lena said horrified.

You were able to locate the bomb in the statue and looked at the wires. This was just a puzzle. And all puzzles had solutions. Looking at the different colours of the wires, you began to disconnect them. Once doing so, you removed the radioactive material and rendered it useless. Then you gasped when you heard the soft click. It was a dead-man’s switch. Fuck.

Frantically, you looked around before seeing the body of water and rapidly teleported a large volume of it in a massive barrel and quickly submerged the bomb in the water.

You ran as fast as you could when you were thrown forward from the blast of the explosion. You fell harshly on the ground and felt yourself lose consciousness.

***

You groaned and stirred, then opened your eyes and groaned again at the bright lights.

Wait, where were you?

Your eyes shot open as you sat up and stared at the small group in front of you.

“Woah, y/n, you’re okay. You’re at the DEO.” Lena said quickly, trying to calm you down before you had a panic attack like you usually did when you woke up with a start.

“What the hell happened?” You said, wincing at the pain in your head.

“Well, you’re a complete and total idiot. You left us and went to find the bomb yourself. You successfully disarmed it but the secondary explosion caused you to knock your head, making you black out.” Maggie scolded.

“You’ll be okay. You just may have a concussion.” Alex explained, failing to hide her smirk at her fiancé’s outburst.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Kara asked.

“I’m not dead, so I’m fine.”

“I like how your standard is ‘not dead’. That’s good. Let’s keep it that way. ‘Not dead’ makes for a great bare minimum.” Jonn joked, making the rest of you laugh before they all fell silent again.

“What? What else happened?”

“Nothing. But...we saw your scars, y/n.” Kara said gently.

“Did my mother cause those?” Lena asked. She had only ever seen a few but you refused to answer any of her questions because it was a sore subject.

“Some. Not all. Cadmus used a lot of equipment. Cattle prods, knives. Things like that. It was how they tried to break us. Not me though. I guess I just had a higher tolerance for pain.” You shrugged, pushing the painful memories back down.

“What about the others?” Maggie asked.

Letting out a deep breath, you spoke, “Our parents weren’t good people, Mags. When you were gone, all the attention was on me. I had to be perfect. Any slip up would be punished.”

You continued speaking, “Did Papi ever tell you that story about how he used to get beat up by those group of kids when he was younger?” You waited until Maggie nodded in response.

“Let’s just say he took those skills on board. He called it teaching. I call it bullshit.”

The room fell silent once more and you looked up at Lena and Maggie who were on the verge of tears. Almost simultaneously, they both began apologising; Lena said she should have worked harder to stop her mother and Maggie said she should never have left you.

Cupping Lena’s cheek, you brought her in for a gentle kiss and felt her tears against your cheek. “You are not responsible for your mother’s actions. You are your own person. An exceptional person, might I add.”

Using your other hand, you brought Maggie’s head down so you could place a soft kiss on her forehead and then held her hand.

“I was a child and so were you, it’s not your fault. I don’t want you two blaming yourselves. I love you both so much.”

You opened your arms and they both wrapped their arms around your waist on either side of you, hugging you close.

“I’ll be okay. I’m home.”

[soft-stormcloud]

Panic Cord: Please Don’t Say You Love Me [2/3]

Synopsis: When Virgil and his fiancé, Logan, take in Virgil’s ex boyfriend Roman and his boyfriend, Patton, Virgil’s forced to come face to face with his guilt. 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Prinxiety, Analogical, LAMP, background logicality

Word count: 3580 out of 8823

Trigger warnings: Implied abusive parents, very heavy guilt, financial problems, potentially unsympathetic Virgil? It’s complicated, everyone makes mistakes.

Part One

    Logan was, of course, okay with it. 

    Virgil dared say he was excited. He took a day off work (he had a lot of personal days saved up) to spend making sure the apartment was clean and inviting, and his office was cleared out for Roman and Patton to move in. Virgil had to move his vanity to make room for Logan’s desk, but he didn’t complain. 

    When they arrived, Logan pulled Patton into a tight hug while Virgil took Roman’s luggage to carry it inside. 

    “Is this all you have?” He asked, frowning. 

    Roman shrugged and followed Virgil into the apartment. He was sort of dazed as he looked around. “Well, I had a few of Patton’s things over at my place, but when he was evicted, his landlord sold his things. I had to be fast to leave so I just filled up whatever I could in this suitcase and we left.” 

    “I’m surprised you let Patton in your house,” he said as he pushed open the door to what was previously Logan’s study, now Roman and Patton’s room. 

    “What?” He frowned. “I didn’t.” 

    Virgil set his suitcase down in the bare room and looked at him in confusion. “You said you had some of his things?” 

    Roman blushed and looked away. “Just, like, sweaters and stuff.” 

    He couldn’t hide a grin. “You’re still so sappy.”

    “It’s not exactly a bad thing!” Roma pouted. 

    “I didn’t say it was.” He didn’t bother unpacking the suitcase, leading Roman right back out. “Logan and I called in a favour with our parents- Come with us, we’re getting you some furniture.” 

    “What?” Roman smiled nervously. “You don’t-” 

    “You’re at least getting a bed.” Virgil gave him a flat look. “Besides, my mom was way too happy to help. She and Dad actually want to have dinner with you and meet Patton, whenever you’re up for that.” 

    Roman only blushed brighter. He was embarrassed, but in a good way.

    When they went back into the living room, Logan was explaining to Patton how they could afford such a nice apartment. 

    “Virgil’s and my parents got together and wrote us a cheque for our Christmas present,” he was saying. Virgil stepped beside him and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist. “They covered half the costs. We’re also pretty lucky with our jobs, they pay us well, and we’ve been saving up for a while.” 

    As they walked out the door and headed for the apartment’s elevator, Patton looked at Logan curiously and asked, “What do you guys do?” 

    Virgil hid a smile as Logan lit up, launching into an excited ramble about his job. Logan loved his job, and he wasn’t quiet about it. He didn’t even do anything super exciting or that he’s passionate about; It was just convenient, and well-paying, and easy. He said he mostly enjoyed it because he got to put all of his energy into his studies, and his relationship with Virgil, not having to waste any to pay for basic living expenses. 

    The four of them went out to a few of the surrounding furniture stores, somehow managing to fit a nightstand, the parts of a dresser and a bed, and a shit ton of hangers inside Logan’s tiny car. They went ahead and used the leftover money to buy Patton new clothes, and a little for Roman, as well. 

    When Roman and Patton were distracted with the clothes, Logan pulled Virgil aside. “Are you doing okay?”

    Virgil frowned in confusion. “Yeah? Why?” 

    “I just… Know this isn’t exactly what you wanted.” Logan took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

    He shrugged and ran his thumb across Logan’s palm. “It’s not what they wanted either. It’s not a big deal.”

    Logan watched him carefully. Virgil seemed… Truly unbothered. 

    “Verge, you know you don’t have to answer this, but… Why did you two break up?” He laughed a little and shook his head. “I’m so confused about your relationship.”

    Guilt flooded Virgil’s system. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No, it’s… I don’t want to talk about it.” He did want to tell Logan, both because Logan deserved to know and because Virgil thought he may feel better after getting it out. 

    But there was always the possibility that Logan would leave him, would find his actions so disgusting and mistrustful that he decided to go. 

    “It’s okay,” Logan whispered, pulling him into his arms. “Don’t panic, it’s fine. It clearly doesn’t matter anymore, whatever happened. He doesn’t seem mad at you.”

    “That’s not what I’m worried about,” Virgil mumbled. 

    xxx 

    The next few weeks living with Patton and Roman were… Interesting. For Virgil, most of it consisted of not ever letting himself be in a room with Roman alone, while also making sure Roman and Logan were never in the same room alone. It was pretty exhausting- Not just the act itself, but the guilt that came with it. Was it wrong of him to be stunting Roman and Logan’s relationship so badly? Was he proving that he hadn’t changed at all in he and Roman’s time apart, by doing pretty much the exact same thing? Was his reasoning justified in meddling with the ecosystem of their apartment? 

    Logan, someone who was always straightforward and blunt with him, didn’t seem to care. Or even notice. He and Patton were growing closer and closer by the day, and if they were a ‘normal’ couple, Virgil would be frightened every time he found Logan and Patton tangled up on the couch, asleep together, or walked in on them talking quietly and holding hands. 

For once, it was not because of the guilt. Most things Virgil did in his life was because he felt guilty. But, truly, it was because he would do anything to keep that dopey smile on his fiance’s face, and he wasn’t bothered that he wasn’t the only one to cause it. He and Logan simply had too much love to give that could be dropped onto one person. 

One day, Logan, Patton, and Virgil were in the living room, Virgil doing his makeup before work and Patton and Logan doing a puzzle, when Roman burst through the front door with sunshine in his face. 

“Love?” Patton stood and smiled, coming over to hug him. Roman picked him up and tossed him a bit, spinning him around and holding him tightly. Logan snickered as Patton squealed. “Woah- What’s going on?!”

“They’re doing auditions for Dear Evan Hansen down at the Carnation, and I got an audition!” Roman set his pink-faced boyfriend down and smiled so wide it changed the way Logan and Virgil saw him. 

Virgil had missed that smile. 

“I’m auditioning for the role of Connor!” He reached into his messenger bag, a large hole in the side patched up with the scraps of a thin red scarf, and pulled out a clean, new script. It was thin and unlaminated. “They gave me a few scenes to practice for, I need to go right now!”

Patton wasted no time following Roman into their room. Virgil was embarrassed, because half of him tried to get up, too. For a split second, he had fallen back into his old life, his old self, and as terrifying as that was, he still felt ecstatic when Roman poked his head out and said, “Hey, Verge? You wanna come, too? Patton wants to read for Zoe, but you can play Evan!” 

Virgil desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, and he desperately wanted to never go back. He was terrified that Roman being here would put him back into old habits, that all the work he had done to change and be better and build a life with Logan would vanish. But he was also so, incredibly, ridiculously happy to have Roman back, and achingly sad in a way that you only feel when you just now realized how much you’ve missed a person. He wanted to be able to pick and choose, to reach back and pluck certain elements out of his old life and drop them into his new one, and forget about the remnants. 

But life didn’t work that way. 

So as he and Patton helped Roman prepare for his audition, with Logan sitting on the bed with a book, he kind of wanted to cry. 

xxx 

“I want to be a halfling!” Patton cried in excitement. 

They were all crowded around the living room table, Virgil and Logan’s D&D Player’s Handbooks laid out in front of Roman and Patton. 

“Okay,” Logan chuckled. He was sitting next to Patton, hand planted beside his hip, so his arm was almost around him but not quite. “Then, here, these are the stats you get, you put those here.” 

When Roman and Virgil were still dating, Virgil mentioned a few times how he always wanted to get into D&D. Roman agreed, and they always said they would play together, once they had time and enough friends to make a party. The day Virgil and Logan met, Logan was wearing a Critical Role t-shirt and was buying supplies for his weekly session, a few days out. He offered to take Virgil with him, and the plan was just to watch and hang out but he got along with their party so well and already had an idea for a character, they insisted he started right away. 

It didn’t escape Roman’s attention that Virgil ended up doing something they always planned on doing together, with Logan. He was sad about it even though he knew he shouldn’t have been. How could he expect Virgil to have put his life on hold, for a reunion that neither of them thought would happen? 

There was still a part of him that felt betrayed. Roman often felt betrayed when thinking of Virgil, and it was so frustrating because he didn’t want to be mad at Virgil, especially seeing him now, seeing how much he’s changed. He was engaged, and happy about it- Excited, even. Every time someone brought up their upcoming wedding, Virgil positively lit up and couldn’t stop himself from attaching himself to Logan’s side. 

Although… As betrayed as he’s felt these last two years, as sad and as angry as he’s been… It faded as the four of them spent the night playing D&D, sinking six hours into it, making a clumsy team with Logan as their ruthless DM. It faded away for very familiar feelings to take its place. 

That morning, after Patton went to bed and Logan went to work, Roman found himself wandering towards Virgil’s room. He was so confused, and surprised, and he didn’t think he could wait any longer- He had to talk to Virgil. During their relationship, nobody could calm him down and make him see clearly the way Virgil could. He hoped they hadn’t lost that, that all this time apart hadn’t made them strangers. 

Virgil called him in after knocking, looking a little wary. He knew it couldn’t have been Logan, so it was either Patton to chew him out about all he did to Roman, or Roman himself, which had its own problems attached. 

“Hey,” Virgil said haltingly. “You need something?”

“Not really.” Roman shrugged one shoulder, not able to meet his eyes. “Just, uh…”

Virgil scooted over and Roman took the silent invitation to sit next to him, pulling the covers over his lap. “What is it?” Virgil actually looked concerned, and Roman hated that that surprised him. 

“Does it feel… Weird to you?” He risked peeking at Virgil, risked noticing the way his faded purple fell in his eyes and the way he still looked so, so tired. “Being back together?”

Virgil fell silent, and Roman was patient. He knew the face Virgil made when he was thinking, when he was choosing his words very carefully to both say what he meant and spare feelings. His eyebrows scrunched up and he chewed on his upper lip and he looked, just faintly, defeated. 

“It does,” Virgil said. “But it’s not… All bad. I just don’t think we were expecting it.” 

Roman was relieved to hear that, but it also scared him, because that meant they were thinking the same thing, and that could be dangerous. He thought of Patton, Roman’s ray of sunshine. For a short amount of time, Patton was the only reason Roman stayed alive. He loved Patton fiercely, but that kind of love was familiar to him, and he had been feeling it double lately. 

“I bet you got rid of everything.” Roman didn’t mean it as an insult, but he could acknowledge that it definitely sounded like one. 

“Actually,” Virgil said, annoyed, “I still have all of it.”

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?” 

“Yeah. I was going to get rid of it during the move here, but… I don’t know.” 

He crawled over Roman to get out of bed, and went over to the closet in the corner of the room. He disappeared inside for a minute, clothes being moved on racks sounding out into the room, and came back with a scrapbook and a shoebox. 

The shoebox was unassuming, nothing like the one Roman had spent hours decorating, that still sat somewhere inside his parents’ house, or maybe the garbage at this point. The scrapbook was a lot more exuberant- They made it together. Somehow Virgil ended up with it. 

He got back into bed and set the scrapbook into Roman’s lap. 

But then they didn’t move. 

They both wanted to open it, and they knew that, but something about it felt wrong. Were they making a mistake? 

Just as Roman started to contemplate, Virgil took off the shoebox’s lid and tossed it aside. All of Roman’s concerns disappeared at the sight inside. 

At the very top, there was a brown leaf that looked like it would crumble with a single touch. On their one month anniversary, Roman took Virgil for a walk, which was really a disguise for a secluded, romantic picnic. He took Virgil down a dirt path with overarching trees, blooming all vibrant shades of green in the summer sun. Virgil wanted to stop, to check out a little alcove of trees off the path, and they ended up staying there for longer than planned. As they made their way out, Virgil plucked a leaf off one of the trees and stuffed it in his pocket. 

Now, Virgil reached down to pick it up, and under the weight of the wind it shattered, all over a card Virgil had made for Roman’s 19th birthday. 

They both snickered, and Virgil dropped his head back, frustrated and happy. Roman flipped open the cover of the scrapbook. The first picture was from Roman’s 19th birthday, about two months into their relationship. They both had writing and scribbles all over their arms, Roman’s in purple, Virgil’s in red. Virgil squinted to try and read some of it. 

In red, Don’t Forget Your Meds!! <3  

In purple, audition at 2:30. see you there 

There were drawings, random scribbles in red and little icons and comics in purple. Their arms were like that in most pictures, and in a picture they had taken at the park, where Roman had Virgil picked up with one arm, a little ink peeked out under his raised shirt, on his tummy. 

Looking at these pictures, Virgil had never felt so dumb. 

After they finished looking at the pictures, neither of them felt like letting Roman go back to his room. Guilt gnawed at Virgil’s insides as he and Roman scooted close to the wall, leaving enough room for Logan when he got back from work. They fell asleep with their legs tangled and their bangs brushing together. 

When Virgil woke up, it was like he had never gone to sleep. A blink of time passed and he peeked over Roman’s shoulder, worried Logan had gotten home and gotten angry, left to sleep somewhere else, and was only mildly relaxed to find him there in his usual spot. He had actually scooted closer than he had to in order not to fall off the bed, almost spooning Roman. 

Virgil laid there until Logan woke up. The morning was one of Virgil’s favourite times to spend with Logan, because Logan was sleepy and affectionate like a cat, and they often spent the mornings drinking coffee in silence. Just being in the same room was often enough for Virgil. 

It wasn’t like that this time. Virgil could barely look at him. Was he angry? Was he going to accuse Virgil of cheating, or wanting to leave him? 

He knew Logan would never have this conversation without at least a cup of coffee, so he stayed quiet. Logan prided himself on being able to articulate himself, and he couldn’t do that when he was tired. 

After a little bit of Virgil stewing, and cooking breakfast for four, Logan finally turned to him and said, “What’s going on? You’re freaking out.” 

“Was that inappropriate? Are you mad?” 

Logan hummed and turned off the stove, putting the pan on a different burner. “I think for normal couples, the answer would definitely be yes, and we would need to have a talk.” He opened up his arms and Virgil sunk into them, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. “But we’re not normal. Does he make you happy?”

That wasn’t a question Virgil was prepared for. Maybe that was stupid, but it wasn’t that he didn’t know the answer, it was that he wasn’t sure if he earned the right to say it. 

But this was Logan. He was always safe with Logan. 

“Yes.” 

“Do I still make you happy?” 

“Yes!” Virgil pulled back, looking at Logan in concern and panic. “What kind of question is that?!” 

Logan cupped Virgil’s face in his hands and kissed him, just firm enough to keep him grounded, to remember where he was. Virgil rested his hands on Logan’s waist and sighed into it, kissing him back. 

“We tell each other before we do things,” Logan mumbled. 

“Right. And the other has to be okay with it.”

“And I’m okay with it. And the other has to know the new person. Don’t I?”

Virgil swallowed and nodded. “Yes. And it goes both ways.” 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Logan whispered. “But if you really can’t shake that feeling, then we should have a different conversation.”

Virgil and Logan had put their polygamy into practice before, but never for anything serious or long-term. Virgil felt guilty about a lot of things, it pretty much ruled his life, but this had never been one of them. 

“Morning, guys,” Patton said as he wandered into the room. Virgil and Logan pulled away so Virgil could make Patton a plate while Logan greeted him. 

Patton and Logan ate their breakfast and then headed into Patton and Roman’s room, because Logan promised to help Patton prepare for his job interview and then drive him there. While Virgil was making his own plate after finally getting hungry, Roman came into the kitchen. 

“Hey,” he said nervously. 

Virgil glanced back at him and then forward. “Hey. Are you hungry?” 

They sat next to each other with their plates of food, and ate in awkward silence. When Virgil went to reach for his drink, Roman set his hand over Virgil’s. He didn’t remember the last time his heart had jumped so high, or so much excitement flooded his system. 

“I have my audition today,” Roman said quietly. “Are you busy?” 

Virgil was walking on eggshells. Everything lately felt like a decision, like one way or another his life was changing, and he had to make the decisions without knowing what it would lead to. 

“I’m not busy,” he settled on, because it was the truth. 

Roman linked their fingers together, and Virgil squeezed his hand. Virgil thought of what Logan said, that he was okay with it- And suddenly Virgil realized that he himself might not be. As Roman leaned closer, Virgil jumped out of the chair and scrambled to grab his half empty plate and head into the kitchen. 

“Actually, I just remembered that I, uh, have a lot of stuff to get done today,” he stuttered, fumbling for a tupperware to put his leftover food into. “Sorry, I, uh, can’t make it. Sorry.”

“Virgil.” Roman frowned and stood, coming over to him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just- I can’t make it.” Virgil slid his food into the fridge and put his dishes in the dishwasher. He tried leaving, but Roman was blocking the way out of the kitchen. “I can’t make it, okay?”

Roman looked at him in frustration, and hurt. Virgil hated how familiar that was. Of all the things Virgil wanted to see again now that Roman was back in his life, that was last on the list. “Do you think- Maybe we should talk about what happened? Because you’re acting-”

“No!” Virgil’s eyes widened. “No, what? What are you- There’s nothing to talk about. How would that help?” 

“Virgil, if you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine, but-” 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Virgil insisted, and he kind of felt like crying. 

Roman stared at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to change his mind or say he was kidding. Then Roman grabbed his keys and his jacket, and walked out the door.

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[argylemnwrites]

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Epilogue

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~2200

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: Moving forward, together.

Author’s Note: This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

“So, who owns this place again?”

“It’s Cam’s uncle’s girlfriend’s sister’s building.”

“And we trust her… why?”

“Because she is fine with Cam vouching for us, so no income minimum, no issue with your lack of credit history, and no broker’s fee.”

Drake nodded. It still felt kind of shady to him, going to check out random units they heard about from different people they were tangentially connected to, but he was deferring to Riley completely, seeing as he had never been responsible for finding his own housing in his life. And apartment hunting in New York, it turned out, was a complicated task.

Back in February, when they’d started trying to figure out what neighborhoods to consider, Riley had told him not to bother searching the units listed on basically any website.

“There’s gonna be massive broker’s fees, and they probably won’t take us since we won’t have a guarantor. There’s a lot of scams, too. Just talk to your coworkers, word of mouth is going to be the best way to do this,” she’d warned him. 

Drake had done as she’d asked, but the units that his connections, the ones at the law firm he’d been sent to as coverage for one of the assistants who was out after surgery, recommended had not been a good fit. One didn’t allow dogs, one had been a definite bait and switch scam that looked nothing like the pictures he’d been shown, and the one they’d checked out last week was nice, but they would have needed a roommate to make it affordable, something they both weren’t really interested in doing.

But today they were checking out a one bedroom place in the Kensington neighborhood in Brooklyn that she’d heard about through one of her managers. They were supposed to meet with the building owner at 3 o’clock, so they had taken the F train over just after lunch so that Drake could get a better feel for the area.

Now that it was April, the weather was finally feeling like spring more consistently. It really couldn’t have been a nicer day for them to walk around the neighborhood. Drake was shocked at how close they were to a park. It was crowded as all get out, given that everyone and their mother seemed to want to take advantage of the pleasant day, but Prospect Park was large, had fishing spots, and most importantly, was some actual green space. While there were still numerous restaurants in the neighborhood, it felt so much more residential than their current apartment’s location. Drake could actually see why people would choose to live in a place like this.

The building owner, Kris, let them in and showed them up to the second floor walk-up she was looking to lease. It was in an older building, but everything looked well maintained at least. And it was big, probably twice as big as their current apartment. Drake was sure the fact that he’d been living in a 35 square meter studio for over four months was influencing him, but it just felt larger than his quarters at the palace had been, even though he was sure that wasn’t the case.

He wandered around, checking out the bedroom while Riley chatted specifics with Kris. After their first apartment tour a couple of weekends ago, they’d both quickly decided that was the best approach. Not only did Riley have more experience and knew the better questions to ask, but when left to her own devices, she was often able to charm landlords into throwing in some sort of perk, like waiving the pet fee or granting them some flexibility on move in dates. It was best to let her just do her thing.

As he checked out the closet space, it hit him how different his life was now than it was even six months ago. That Drake would have just been amazed that Riley would ever willingly choose to be with him over Liam. He could have never pictured himself choosing an apartment in New York with her. Sitting down and making plans for the future with her. 

It was easy to look at her and say that the change was all about her. And to an extent, that was true. He probably wouldn’t have found the motivation to make any changes in his life if he hadn’t met her. But it really was about more than that. It was about stepping up, letting go of the past, and taking ownership of his own happiness. He remembered Riley yelling at him, telling him he was scared to make changes in his life because he might still end up miserable on the other side of them. Basically telling him he needed to stop making himself a victim by his own choosing. And she’d been right.

Sure, some things were still a work in progress. Their visit to Texas a handful of weeks ago had proven that his relationship with his mother was not going to be mended overnight, after all. But on the other hand, he was hard pressed to imagine the man he was six months ago willingly getting an office job and going out for drinks after work with colleagues. He probably also wouldn’t have gotten a more “professional” haircut at the advice of one of those coworkers in hopes of turning a temp job into a permanent one. He would have fought such advice tooth and nail, insisting that anyone who cared that much about something as dumb as a haircut was a stuck up asshole, not worth his time. And while part of him still felt that way, he now saw it was a small price to pay to try and gain a more stable income so that Riley could cut down to part time at the bar and go back to college in the fall and work on finishing those last two semesters. Plus, she seemed to like his cleaned up cut, which was an added bonus.

The only way her going back to school was even a possibility was actually because of Maxwell. When he had let them know he was coming to New York for a “business venture,” they had both been confused, to say the least. But, when they met up with him for dinner and drinks, he’d told them he had found a way to bring some much needed cash to the Beaumonts - he had sold the rights to a holiday movie to the Hallmark channel, and that the script was so well received that they wanted him to keep writing for them. This had meant nothing to Drake himself, but Riley had just laughed, explaining that it was a TV network that made dozens of cheesy romance movies each year, many of them centered around Christmas.

When pressed, Maxwell had informed them, rather reluctantly, that the plot of the movie centered around a New York City waitress who came to a European country as the date of a prince for some Christmas ball, but ended up falling in love with his best friend. Despite Maxwell’s assurances that he was barely inspired by them and that all the names and locations were changed and that Christmas had nothing to do with Riley’s time in Cordonia, Drake and Riley had called him out on profiting off their story. Eventually, they struck a deal - they got a percentage of his payout for the script, which was going to cover most of Riley’s first semester tuition, and Maxwell had to help them with their move. It still irritated Drake a bit that Maxwell had just decided to throw their story out there for the world, but Liam had told him he approved the script and said it really wasn’t identifying at all, so Drake just decided to be grateful that Maxwell had not only brought Riley into his life, but also was giving her a ticket towards a job that didn’t require her to work a shitton of nights and weekends.

Drake wandered back towards the living and kitchen area, passing Riley and Kris in the narrow hallway, looking at the bathroom. He squeezed her hand as he passed them, and she threw him a little wink. He took in the main space of the apartment. They would be able to get a couch and a TV in there with their table, maybe even a bookcase. The kitchen was actually pretty nice, too. It probably had three times as much counter space as their current place. Everything here felt like it could work.

He opened the cabinets absentmindedly, half checking out the storage space, half waiting to see what Riley had to say about the place. After a couple more minutes, Riley and Kris came back out.

“Alright, well I’ll give you two a minute to talk it over,” said Kris, heading to the door, “I’ll be back in a few and you can let me know if you want to go forward with a lease.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Kris.” said Riley, leaning against the end of the counter.

As soon as the door latched, Riley looked up at Drake, “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s great. It feels too good, to be honest. How bad’s the rent?”

Riley paused for a couple seconds, “1850.”

“That can’t be right. That’s less than what we’re paying now, and it’s so much bigger.”

She chuckled a little bit, “Well, that’s the beauty of not living in a prime neighborhood.”

Drake just shook his head. He considered this location to be far more desirable than their current one, but he knew he was in the minority there. “What do you think about it?”

“I think this could be a really good fit for us.”

“You’re okay with his neighborhood?”

She nodded and gave him a smile, “This is a pretty diverse area of the city, so the restaurant options are good, and there’s decent access to the Q and F trains, so the commute shouldn’t be too bad.” She stood up and joined him further in the kitchen, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s be real, Drake. I’m not going to be as hard to please with this as you are. So, you gotta be honest with me. Can you see yourself here?”

He nodded, “Yeah, Liu. I can. I love this place.”

“Really?”

“Really. Is she willing to lease to us?”

“It seems like it. It sounds like her last tenant moved out unexpectedly, and her late partner used to handle the financial side of things, so she just wants to rent it out as quickly as possible.”

“And she’s cool with Anderson?”

“She told me she’s fine with small breeds.”

“Great, let’s sign.”

“Woah there,” she said, laughing, “And they say I’m the impulsive one.”

“What’s to discuss, Liu? Do you think we’re gonna find a better place than this one?”

She just shook her head and shrugged a little.

“Okay, then I stand by my statement  - we should sign the lease today. If she’s motivated to lease this unit quickly, don’t we need to jump on it?”

“I just want you to be sure, Drake,” Riley said, biting her lip slightly before she continued, “Last time you moved on a whim, things kind of… blew up for us for a while.”

Drake let out a little snort, “I think this is a little different, Liu.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “That may be the case, but I want us to actually take a minute and think about this. Make sure we can see ourselves here, okay?” And with that she plopped down on the floor, laying back and closing her eyes.

“Uh, Liu… what the fuck are you doing?”

She opened one eye and squinted at him, “I’m just taking a moment to tune out everything else and think about this. You should try it,” she said, waving him down.

Drake rolled his eyes, but sat down on the kitchen floor and leaned back slowly in the opposite direction. This seemed dumb as hell, but if it’s what she needed from him to not feel like he was going to flake out on her, he would do it.

They laid like that for almost a minute, breathing slowly. No fears or concerns or worries crept into his mind, which he was pretty sure was the point of this exercise. He wasn’t sure how long they were supposed to do this, but then he heard her moving and felt her curl her body against his head, snaking her hand under his neck and resting her head on his chest.

“So, any reservations about his place?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. Her eyes were staring back at him, wide and dark.

“None,” he said shaking his head slightly, “I think the fact that there’s enough floor space in the kitchen for us to do this has just convinced me even more.”

She chuckled softly, tracing soft circles along his neck with her fingers. “So, you want to sign the lease then?”

“Yeah, Liu,” he said, letting his eyes fall shut at her soothing touch, “This feels like home.”

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae

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Drake x MC only:  @jovialyouthmusic  @iplaydrake  @gibbles82  @drakewalkerisreal  @riley--walker​ @notoriouscs​  @butindeed​  @addictedtodrakefanfic​  

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[doverly]

The (Not So) Haunted Apartment

My apartment is haunted. Every tenant had complained about their food disappearing, their lights turning on during the night, and the sound of footsteps when they were home alone. It was a nice place, one bedroom with a walk-in closet, exposed brick, a skylight in the living room and even a dishwasher in the full kitchen. But no tenet had lasted longer than three months, and the landlord had to void many leases. Because of the ghost the rent was amazingly low so we were never short on tenants and a new one always moved in less than three weeks after the last one. But I couldn’t really complain about the high-turnover rate, I was living there for free after all. 

When I was a baby my mom forgot to feed me a lot. She said that I didn’t cry, but the truth was that she just couldn’t hear me. They went on three vacations without me because they simply “forgot” I still have the stuffed animals they gave me as a congelation prize. By the time I was ten they had forgotten me entirely. I tried to wave my arms in the air and yell and knock things over, but they just thought it was a ghost. My parents sold the house and I didn’t try to follow them. I continued going to school, although my teachers couldn’t see me, and even moved myself up a grade. The new couple who moved into my house could afford to replace the food I took and they didn’t use my room. When I was eighteen I moved out and started sitting in on college classes, I was trying to major in sociology.

She was the fifth tenant that year and was going to the same college that I was. That was fine, her being a college student just meant that I would have to steal my own food from the supermarket instead of eating hers. I watched her unpack from the kitchen counter, and when she looked up at the skylight she made that face I knew so well. Wondering how she had gotten such a good apartment at such a good deal. The landlord told people about the ghost, but they always underestimated how creepy having another roommate they didn’t know about was. 

I had to resist jumping down from the counter when I saw her putting together a pull out sofa. My sleeping bag was great, but nothing could replace the feeling of sleeping on an actual bed. Well, sort of a bed. It would be nice enough. I was just thinking about how great it would be to have a new roommate ,it felt weird to live alone, when she started unpacking something else. 

A sonogram, a thermal camera, audio recorders, and an EMF meter. Top of the line ghost hunting equipment that would definitely be able to detect me. I’m very visible on cameras and I do make noise, but the reason that I was still able to live there rent free is because even though people can see and hear me, they don’t realize that I’m there. Technology can’t lie, but the human eye can be very, very mistaken. It was fun watching her set them up though, and I realized that the look in her eyes hadn’t been because she was happy about the price it was because she was happy that I was there. All of those pieces of equipment were custom painted and looked well worn. My new roommate was a ghost hunter, it seemed, and a good one at that. I had met ghost hunters before, many, many had been called on me even before I moved out of my parents house, but this was the only one that had moved in just for me. I was flattered. 

I had to go shopping so I didn’t get to see her finish packing up, but I was thinking about her while I loaded potato bread and vegan salami into my cart. With her setting up that equipment I should have been extra careful, making sure that she didn’t get creeped out enough to move out like all of the others, but I couldn’t help wanting someone to notice me again. To look at me and tell me that my eyes were dark brown, something that my parents had stopped being about to do when I was seven. 

When I got back to the apartment she was still awake and finishing setting up things in her bedroom. She heard the door slam shut but when she got there it was closed and she didn’t notice me putting my food away in the fridge. What she did notice was the fridge door shutting , fully stocked fridge, and the empty paper bags in the kitchen. My new roommate smiled like it was christmas morning and immediately got out her phone and dialed someone from her contacts.

“Mom?” she practically screamed into the phone, “Mom, it’s real there’s really a ghost here.”

By this point I was so close to her that if she calmed down a bit she would have feel my breath on her neck. I heard a sigh on the other end of the line and some babble that I couldn’t decipher. Her mom must have been at work or just woken up to be talking so quietly. 

My roommate placed her phone on the counter and stuck her head in the refrigerator, I noticed some of her black kinky hairs got stuck on the freezer door, I would need to clean after she went to sleep. 

“Potato bread, kale, mangos, frozen pineapple, baby spinach, fresh tomatoes, vegan salami,” she listed off the things I had placed in the stainless steel fridge like she was reading an acceptance letter, “VEGAN salami, mom, vegan salami! I’m not vegan, I don’t eat vegan food. Why would there be vegan food in my fridge?”

Another sigh, “You mentioned your landlord volunteers at an animal shelter. Maybe she stocked your fridge, there’s no such thing as ghosts, Kim.”

“Kimani,” she replied as a reflex.

 Kimani continued arguing with her mom, trying to convince her that I existed. But eventually they both remembered that they had things to do and after an entire hour ended the call. My new roommate sat against the fridge on the kitchen floor and rubbed her temples, like just speaking to her mom had given her a headache. When I was ten I had felt a little weird eating my lunch in the classroom because my teacher couldn’t see me anymore but now I’ve gotten over my apprehensiveness. I watched Kimani wipe away tears without feeling the least bit awkward, only sympathy for her. Still sniffling she opened the fridge and took out some of my vegan salami and started munching on a slice. Once she tasted the salty mock-meat, felt it’s rubbery texture, and made sure it was real she got up and went to her bedroom.

The next day we both needed to get to classes. My routine hasn’t really changed since I was twelve years old and really accepted that no one would ever know me again. When my roommate was just out of the shower I give myself a sponge bath so they wouldn’t notice the water running, get my clothes from my hiding spot and try out a new outfit (I pretty much change out my entire wardrobe every four months, the clothes are free why not), and put on the gaudiest makeup I can think of. Before I used to hate drawing attention to myself but since no one can pay attention to me anymore I just wear whatever. And a sparkly purple eyeshadow gradient with steel gray eyeliner isn’t that gaudy, just uncommon. 

While Kimani was getting dressed I packed myself a sandwich and loaded it along with my water bottle, textbooks, and laptop into my backpack. Kimani and I ate breakfast together, by which I mean I ate out of the box of frosted flakes she left on the counter. Making sure to only grab a handful when she started reading a book on exorcism that she had open on the counter. It was really funny actually, if there was anyone who had a demon inside them it was me.

I took the same bus as her onto campus and it turned out that we had the same first class. History of Psychology. Kimani was paying more attention to her exorcism book than she was to the lecture but I was religiously taking notes. College is much easier if you're actually choosing to be there. Exams are easier if you know your grades don’t matter, and getting dressed is easier if you know that no one is looking at you. My life is easy, nothing matters , but I wished that I could trade places with Kimani and face consequences for the first time in eight years. 

For the first time since I started college I decided to skip my afternoon classes and follow my roommate around. She seemed to be doing well in college, happiness wise that was. Her grades seemed mostly average, except in her history classes those she was perfect in. But she waved to a lot of people on campus and ate with a big group of other students at the dining hall around lunch time. And she stayed behind to ask questions to most of her professors. Making connections, forming lasting friendships, and learning what the real world was like; Kimani was doing college perfectly.

At around the end of the day Kimani went to the library and sat at the table studying for half an hour. That seemed odd to me. Despite reading an actual physical book for most of the day she didn’t seem like someone to study at a quiet library to me. It turned out that I was right and she was just killing time. Around five, when the sun was starting to set and even the most dedicated students were starting to file out and go home when Kimani finally turned around in her seat. 

I hadn’t heard it but apparently Kimani noticed the footsteps coming up behind us. Kimani, still turned around in her seat, watched as a guy walked towards us. At first he looked scarier than people thought I was but when he took down the hood on his navy and yellow school sweatshirt he was smiling excitedly. Kimani said that she had been waiting for him and that she was happy that he had come. Turns out that he would be spending the night at her place, if I had known my new roommate had a boyfriend I would have fallen asleep earlier. They left the library together and I followed behind them. I didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, instead I watched how he and Kimani acted together. 

He looked to be the same age as Kimani and me, a college freshman, but he had a youthful jubilance that told me that he hadn’t gotten out of the highschool mindset yet. His skin had the natural tan of someone who played an outside sport of some kind. His hair was light brown with natural highlights and slicked back with gel, I didn’t think he was good for Kimani. She did most of the talking while they were walking to the bus stop that would take us back to the apartment, and he wasn’t even looking at her. Instead his eyes wandered to the campus, and normally that wouldn’t be a problem because it was beautiful. Native trees burning red and orange surrounded by native flowers lining every path and the occasional bench, and everything smelling lightly of coffee, rain, and overpriced textbooks. 

We got to the bus stop and they both sat down while I stood up and kept watching them. Kimani drifted off while talking about what she had read in the exorcism book and finally asked what I had been curious about the entire walk there. 

“What do you think?” finally asking him a question that he could only answer if he was actually listening to her, “Is Graeson or Robert’s theory more correct?”

He stroked the non-existent beard for a second before answering, I thought it was because he needed to come up with some bullshit to spew but then, “Graeson, definitely. If a ghost were to possess you it would be really hard to tell because the ghost’s spirit is influencing everything about you, even your thoughts. If you were possessed you wouldn’t be able to tell but I would because I wouldn’t be influenced by the ghost.”

They continued talking about ghosts and possession with such an authoritative tone that I thought I was in a lecture. But more importantly I realized that maybe staring off into space was his way of concentrating. The bus came and we all got on and they kept on talking about ghosts and possessions. By the time we got to our stop I wasn’t the only one on the bus staring at them. On our walk to the apartment Kimani kept talking and her boyfriend kept looking at the buildings, the sidewalk, the Subway while she talked. I wondered if she was the one who was un-noticeable and not me. 

We finally got home but the boyfriend collapsed on the couch before I was able to and asked Kimani if she had gotten any food yet. She went to the kitchen to find some and I thought that even if he listened to her didn’t make him a good boyfriend. Of course since she hadn’t any real food yet, and she didn’t seem like the type to serve a guest frosted flakes, so she got him some of my canned soup. I pouted a bit when I realized that they were eating my food but that gave me license to eat some of Kimani’s food later so I didn’t try to stop them.

I had just gotten home too so I went to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of soup too and by the time I got back to the living room they were watching an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved on Kimani’s old flatscreen tv. They were taking up the couch but that I was fine, I was used to sitting on floors. We watched and ate in silence, the sound of me slurping my soup covered up by the sound of them slurping their soup. The living room was pretty cozy with us eating in silence, the only problem with the apartment that I know of is that the heater is a little cold but Kimani had bought a little space heater so it was almost like having a fireplace in the room. Her little succulent on the scratched up wooden coffee table brightened the entire space and comforted me when the episode got too creepy. Even though I was accused of being a ghost I couldn’t really handle anything scary. 

The soup was done when the show was done and that’s when the real action started. Kimani put their bowls in the skin, without rinsing them or anything, while her boyfriend checked out the equipment she had around the living room. Once I had gotten back from putting my bowl in the sink the boyfriend was setting up an ouija board on the coffee table. The stars had just become visible, although there was so much light pollution in the city it was hard to see them, and it seemed like that was their que to get started. 

“Spirit, if you’re there give us a sign,” the boyfriend proclaimed. They were on the floor next to the coffee table, their hands on the little glass and wood slider that the ghost was supposed to move and I was sitting on the couch behind them. 

Once a single dad had stayed in the apartment. The rent was cheap enough for him to afford while paying lawyers fees and babysitter costs on a plumbers salary. He decided to play around with an old ouija board one night with his daughter. I liked hanging out with them, and made sure that the little girl stayed out of the trouble when the babysitter took a nap. When they asked if the ghost was there I moved the marker and told them yes. Each of them thought the other one was moving it, and we had a fun time together. The little girl bragged at school about having a ghost in the apartment and the dad was just happy that his daughter was happy. They moved out once he got a raise so his little girl could have her own bedroom.

This time I didn’t move anything, just let them sit in the silence and semi-darkness waiting for nothing to happen. Kimani already set up ghost hunting equipment and I didn’t want to confirm what she already thought. I had dealt with excrosists before, watched them deprive my roommates of food to “starve out of the ghost” watched them kick my roommate out while they did nothing but shake a cross around for days to “call the holy ghost”. Once any of my roommates got the idea that there was a ghost in the apartment they either moved out or were scared to be in their own home. Kimani was already setting up ghost hunting equipment, I didn’t want her to move out. Not when she had just gotten there. 

They waited an entire six minutes, the sun kept setting, the room kept getting darker. 

The boyfriend started to get up, I guess he wasn’t as patient as Kimani, “There’s obviously nothing here…”

Kimani pulled him back to the floor and he landed on his butt and shook the floor, “Come on, five more minutes. The landlord swore that every other tenant said there was a ghost.”

“Did you tell her that you were in the Paranormal Investigation Club before or after she said this?”

Kimani didn’t answer for a while and I slid onto the floor. Even if he was a bad boyfriend I couldn’t let this guy disrespect my roommate like that. She wasn’t grasping for straws and the landlord hadn’t scammed her, I was there I just wasn’t a ghost. 

“Just five more minutes, please?” Kimani looked at her boyfriend like she was a kicked kitten. Her dark brown eyes were big and watery and her kinky hair framed her head like a halo.

He sighed, but put his hands back on the ouija board. They asked the same question again, only this time Kimani sounded like she was begging. I moved the slider to the word yes. 

The boyfriend’s eyes narrowed at Kimani, “Stop moving it.”

She didn’t seem to register that he was annoyed with her instead she said, in almost a whisper, “I’m not.”

He didn’t believe her I could tell that he was doubting her. To prove that Kimani wasn’t moving it I decided to ask a question. The ouija board that the boyfriend had brought didn’t have many pre-made answers. Just yes, no, and all the letters of the alphabet. It was going to be hard to ask a longer question, but I had to defend my roommate. 

W-H-A-T I-S Y-O-U-R N-A-M-E

I had wondered if they would be able to keep up with what I was saying. But even though Kimani hadn’t been taking notes in class she seemed to be able to keep up really well. Putting together the letters and then excitingly moving to shout out her name. I already knew her name, though. What I really needed to know was what the boyfriend’s name was. Again I put my hands on the glass and wood slider and started moving it around. All the while the boyfriend looked a little bored. 

N-O-T Y-O-U H-I-M

His hands had been on the slider as I was moving it around but eyes had been elsewhere. But when Kimani read out my next message he seemed to jump out of his skin. For a ghost hunter wannabe he was scared easily. 

“You already know my name, Kimani,” he said, and I wondered why he was avoiding the question. 

She rolled her eyes and sighed like she was babysitting toddlers, “I’m not moving it, just tell it your name.”

“Julian,” he mumbled. 

Before they had moved out my parents had taught me to be polite. So even though I resented his attitude I had to say it.

T-H-A-N-K Y-O-U

Kimani and Julian waited a bit for my next question, but my hands weren’t even on the slider at that point. Instead I was cracking my knuckles and stretching my hands in preparation for my next question. A quick neck crack later I put my hands back on the slider and started to ask the big question. 

H-O-W L-O-N-G H-A-V-E Y-O-U T-W-O B-E-E-N D-A-T-I-N-G

“How long...have...you two...been...d..atin…?” Kimani didn’t even get to the end of my question before both she and Julain jumped up off the floor and started arguing. 

Instead of the shock that he had shown at my previous question Julain seemed angry. At Kimani. They started arguing about what I had asked while I was just trying to come up with a way to set them both straight. The gist of what they were saying was that both of them thought the other was moving the slider. But what the question meant coming from the other was different for both of them. 

Kimani was close to tears, “You know that me and Ryland broke up last month, why would you say that?”

Julian rolled his eyes, “You were planning on breaking up with him anyway. And by the way I didn’t move it, you did! Do you have a crush on me or something? Just tell me if you do, and don’t get my hopes up by saying there’s a ghost here!”

“I WASN’T MOVING IT!” Kimani was raging with tears in her eyes, “You just don’t want to believe they’re a ghost here because you’re only in the club so get close to Cameron!”

By this point I was panicking, and seriously questioning my judgement. Why had I assumed that they were dating? Just because they were hanging out together at her apartment? I was berating myself trying to figure out how to restore what I had broken, I was such an idiot. My life had no meaning, but if I made a mistake I had to fix it. 

S-O-R-R-Y

Both of their hands had been off the board but the slider was moving. Julian instantly looked up to the ceiling. But no clear fishing wires hung down from the vaulting ceiling, even the skylight was closed. Kimani instantly kneeled back down, her eyes glued to the board. Her hands stayed at her sides though. Julian was still looking for hidden wires while I spelled out my next message. 

I D-I-D-N-T K-N-O-W

“There are no wires,” once Julian realized that he knelt down to the table to watch me write the rest of my message but he didn’t stay there for long, “You haven’t been punking me.”

I had already exposed myself so I just couldn’t resist being a little snarky. 

Y-E-A-H

Even though I was being rude to him Julian smiled like it was Christmas morning. As soon as he got it through his skull that I was really there he jumped up along with Kimani and they hugged very platonically. Kimani was just exuberant but Julian was full on crying and I wondered if I shouldn’t have been so hard on him. Once the hug was over Julian raced over to the coat rack and put on his sweatshirt. Kimani barely had enough time to tell him not to leave her alone with the ghost before he was out the door. Leaving her with only a promise to return with the others...Whoever they were.

 I guess living in a haunted house was more fun when there was a friend over. Kimani looked at the board and outside at the last remnants of the setting sun, instead of staying in the living room she went to the kitchen. I had wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t hurt her, but just thinking about that sentence gave me the creeps. 

Instead I followed her into the kitchen and watched her use my water filter to pour herself a glass of water. It felt good to interact with her and Julian, but I hadn’t thought my first social interaction in years would be through a ouija board. When I realized that my parents were moving out I had tried everything to tell them that I existed. Writing on the walls, sending them emails, even arranging scraps of magazines on the counter to form words. But they scrubbed out my marks on the wall before reading them, their eyes told them that the emails were blank, and didn’t see any words in the scraps of paper. If I had known about ouija boards back then maybe I would have gotten one to use because even though people never notice me or my actions they always notice the ouija board. 

Kimani hung out in the itchen for a while. Turning on all of the lights and staying in the exact corner of the room, so she could see everything in the kitchen. She did turn her head a lot though, just so she could see if anything had emerged from the counter behind her. Once Kimani was sure that she would be able to see any ghosts that came into the room she waited, and I waited too sitting on the counter right next to her. 

We had been waiting for a while, Kimani playing a little game on her phone and me looking at her screen over her shoulder, when Kimani got a text. I only go to see the ID, Just the J, I wonder who that could have been, before Kimani opened her phone and turned away from me to read it. It was such a deliberate turn that I wondered if she sensed that I was looking over her shoulder, but that wasn’t the case. As soon as she read the text she turned back towards me with a face that told me all that I needed to know about the text. They weren’t coming. But her eyes still had some hope in them, so there must have been a promise of coming see the ghost on some later date. Promises could be broken though, after all my parents told me that they would never leave me. 

Once my roommate knew that there would be no more guests over that night she yawned. Communicating with me was tiring I guess, or maybe it was all of the yelling. Either way without bothering to clean up with ouija board Kimani changed into her pajamas, I didn’t watch that part, and went to bed. Even though I can’t communicate with anyone through technology either I had a smartphone, and I tended to read comics before bed. Kimani woke up once while I was scrolling but her mind told her that the weak light of my phone were just moonbeams and she headed back to sleep without any trouble. 

The next day I think Kimani dressed up a little. Her normal attire seemed to be jeans and a t-shirt, and a jacket of course because it was getting cold. But that day she wore tights with a long knitted cardigan and a jean skirt. She was planning to go and talk to her paranormal club so I assumed that she wanted to impress them, but I had to wonder if there was someone at the club that she had a crush on. That didn’t seem right though, she didn’t sound mad or incredulously enough at the prospect of her dating Julian to have a crush on someone else. 

I didn’t have time to follow my roommate around campus that day, but I made sure to check out where the paranormal club was located. Just in case I had some time after my classes. 

In most of my lectures it didn’t make much of a difference that I wasn’t noticeable. The professor just talked and me and everyone else in the lecture room just listened. But in symposiums where it was a small group and we were supposed to be asking questions or in labs when we were supposed to be interacting or with partner work I knew I wasn’t getting the education that I wasn’t paying for. I still went though, because knowing what I was missing was better than blissful ignorance. 

That day our classroom style lesson was going amazing. Lots of discussion that I wasn’t a part of and amazing participation. We were discussing the first DSM and debating the merits of the DSM in general and I wanted to know what the professor thought about it. He had been alive and practicing when it was published and I needed to know how it had affected his practice. There was no way I would be able to do it, no way they would be able to hear me but I tried anyway. 

“HOW DID IT’S PUBLICATION AFFECT YOUR PRACTICE?” I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

The person in front of me turned around, probably because they felt the air of my screams on the back of their neck but no one noticed the actual noise. But again I screamed, and again and again and again. Stopping only to listen in on any great discussion I heard.  At a couple of points the professor came close to answering my question, but he stopped short. I knew it was because he was baiting the other students to ask it. But none of them did, they were so focused on their own discussion and opinion that they barely noticed him. I wondered how they would ever become effective psychologists if they couldn’t notice the people right in front of them. The hour and a half finished without me getting an answer to my question. 

It was a warmer day than the previous one so I decided to eat outside. I never ate in the cafeteria anyways, being unnoticed in such a packed place was like a curse on my mental health. Normally I ate on the floor in my next class or ate in one of the many, many cafes on campus, but that day after looking at the weather I decided to do something different. 

I laid out the blanket that I had brought right in the middle of one of the busiest paths on campus. Took out my sandwich, my water bottle, and the other snacks I had brought and had a picnic. Right in the middle of the path. Those are the experiences that made me think that people had been pranking me for eight years. I was unnoticed, but still somehow everyone stepped around me. Their eyes slid off of me and my blanket but they still walked on the grass next to me instead of just running over me or my neon yellow blanket. 

And I watched and waited but no one’s eyes lingered on me and no one ever stepped a centimeter over my blanket. That was how my state worked. I was there and on some level people knew I was there. When I stood in place people went around me, when I wrote on the wall they scrubbed it out, but they couldn’t really understand why. As my picnic went on people kept routing around me and my blanket and I kept watching them. I had a smartphone that worked and I had Youtube videos that I could have been watching, but I had found in my eighteen years that real, live people provided the best entertainment. 

For the second day in a row Kimani and I rode the same bus home, though I almost missed her. It seemed that her classes finished for the day earlier than mine did so by the time I finished lunch and my next lecture Kimani was already done meeting with her paranormal club and was waiting at the bus stop with a group of five people that included Julian. I had to run to make sure I was on the same bus with them, but the exertion was worth it. The talk in the bus was very lively and it continued way too loudly for the entire twenty minute ride to our apartment. 

Everyone was excited to see the ghost but some were more Kimani excited and others had more Julian levels of scepticism. In between the thoughts of what questions to ask on the ouija board were questions of what equipment Kimani had set up in her apartment and if they had actually checked the readings from the previous night. But even if they were sceptical of the ghost everyone on the bus was excited to go to Kimani’s new place, well everyone except the people just trying to go home and were stuck listening to a bunch of college students talk about ghosts like it was an election. 

They all got off at the same stop and we walked together, it was really nice being part of a group for once. Even though I hated being unnoticed in big groups especially, just walking quietly with the paranormal club was nice. There were a few people talking sure, but most of everyone was just like me. Walking quietly in the back just trying to get to our destination. It was like hanging out with friends for the first time in a while. 

Even though I didn’t want to give them more proof of my existence I didn’t want a repeat of the previous night. Kimani needed her friends to believe that she lived in a haunted house so I was going to help her. I ran ahead and managed to catch the elevator before they were even in the building. Once I was up to the top floor I used my key to open the door and leave it slightly ajar. I was waiting just inside the door for them to come in, but I thought the open door would give everyone a slightly spooky vibe. Robberies aren’t that common in our city so I was crossing my fingers that they wouldn’t call the cops for a suspected break in. 

 I got to let out the breath I had been holding once they got in. A couple of whispers about how Kimani definitely had locked the door before she left, and a few seconds of silence listening for a burglar. Once they were sure that there was no one in the apartment they went in to find the lights off, but they flicked the switch they saw it. Kimani had packed up Julian’s ouija board the night before but I had just enough time to unpack it, and put it right on top of the box, the wood slider already on YES right in front of the welcome mat. Their smiles were like toddlers on christmas day, although I think they would have liked Halloween better. 

Kimani didn’t have to explain herself or convince the other club members that there was really a ghost in her apartment so they got an early start to all of it. And what a start it was. It was like a swarm of bees. Everyone was everywhere doing something. A guy with a henna tattoo on his forearm was checking the food I had brought from Whole Foods with some kind of black light, trying to look for ghostly residue or something. There were fingerprints on the food, but even though his eyes saw it his brain didn’t register it.  A girl with amazingly dyed hair was up on a step ladder checking the cameras and sensors that Kimani had mounted everything, making sure they were functional I guess. Kimani was looking at Julain’s ouija board and Julian was checking for wires in the ceiling and conspicuously open windows. A lanky guy with big glasses was going room to room, supervising I guess. 

It seemed like the sun had to go down before they started on anything concrete so they had some time to kill. The girl with the purple dyed hair swung her blacklight along every surface in the apartment, and the tattooed guy even had some time to make sure the thermal goggles they had brought were working. And after all that it was still light outside so they put something on Hulu, Kimani excitedly said that she had a student package, and ordered some pizza. 

Twenty minutes later two pizzas were delivered and we all dug in. Luckily there was no meat on any of the pizzas so I got to eat as well. They were so focused on their show that they didn’t even notice extra slices going missing. But by the end of it the could tell that something was off. The sun was down at that point so they turned off the lights and Kimani and the guy with the henna tattoos put on the thermal goggles and Julain and the girl with dyed hair were continuously checking the cameras and sensors. 

I wasn’t worried. Even with the thermal cameras and sensors their brains still couldn’t register me being there. They could see me but they couldn't really register me being there. It was the most fun ghost hunt I had ever been a part of though. Normally it was some old priest or shady exorcist closing their eyes and “listening to the ether” or something like that. But this was different, they were walking around looking at things in the dark sure, but they were also talking, laughing, joking. It was a bunch of friends hanging out first and a ghost hunt second.

Even though they didn’t notice me there I couldn’t let them find nothing. I had helped Kimani out so far and I couldn’t just stop when I was already in so deep. So every couple of minutes, when the hunt was getting boring and Julian suggested the theory of wires in the ceiling again I did something noticeably ghostly. Throwing up a few pieces of paper, knocking on the underside of the pull out couch, and just generally being a very good pretend ghost. 

They looked until the early rays of the morning, but they didn’t find anything other than a few pieces of tissue paper and the occasional knocking on the walls.

“So now do you guys believe me?” Kimani asked at the end of the night when her friends were about to go back to their own beds.  

The purple headed girl who I now knew was named Taylor laughed a bit, “Yeah you definitely have some sort of ghost in here. But it seems pretty benign.”

“Benign? It was banging on the couch!” said the guy with the henna tattoos, who I had learned was named Cameron.

Taylor stood her ground, “Yeah but it didn’t really hurt or anything. And those tissues made me think that it was messing with us.”

Kimani laughed nervously, “I really hope that it’s just messing with us. I mean I have to live with it after all.”

They discontinued the ghost talk after that but with promises to look up ghost repellent or something that would keep me away from her while she was sleeping. It was an empty promise though. Since they didn’t have to live in the haunted house, I could tell they weren’t going to put their full attention to it. Kimani seemed optimistic though so I wondered if my intuition was wrong again, maybe her friends were that good of people. I wasn’t the one who really knew them after all

But once the door closed and their sound of the footsteps faded down the hallway Kimani looked up at the early sunlight filtering through the skylight. She seemed small in that big space. I sat down on the couch while Kimani went into the kitchen. When she came back she had a glass of light red colored liquid that was slightly bubbly that I was sure had some alcohol in it. 

Kimnai sank into the couch next to me and took a sip. And maybe she was tired or maybe the alcohol just affected her that fast but a few minutes into nursing her drink she put the glass on the table and spoke.

“You want some Casper?” she half said, half yelled out into the room, gesturing to the glass, “It’s CranGrape juice, club soda, and vodka.”

I picked up the glass and took a swig, Kimani’s eyes didn’t leave the spot where she had put the glass down originally but her dark brown eyes glazed over and she seemed to pause. Between the carbonation and the vodka the cocktail went down rough, but it was actually pretty good. Once I had taken my drink I put the glass back down on the coffee table and Kimani resumed blinking. To her it must have seemed like the glass had magically lowered in volume, because she couldn’t notice me drinking it. But she smiled nonetheless and raised the glass in a toast to us. 

I hope you guys like it (honestly, I’ve started and abandoned three short stories since the last one) it’s not my best but at least I had fun writing it. Have an amazing beginning of September and hang in there until Halloween.

[krreader]

BTS reacting to you not wanting them to give you money.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: fluff ; angst

a/n: hey sweetheart, I hope you like your request ♥

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kim seokjin

“I know that surgery was the last thing you wanted, Ms. (Y/L/N), but I truly believe that it is your best option.”

It wasn't too serious, thankfully, but it had to be fixed and you had been dealing with this issue for way too long. You just wanted to be okay again and enjoy life to the fullest.

Jin tightened his grip around your hand, so much that you looked over to him, “I think you should do it, Jagi.”

It didn't take long for you to nod your head, but then you asked the question that would determine your decision: “How much would it be?”

“Well, it would..-”

“Let's not worry about the money, alright?” Jin interfered before the doctor could even begin talking about the money part. He already knew he would pay for this before he had entered the room, if the doctor told you the amount, you'd only feel more bad that Jin spent so much for you, he knew you well enough.

You were a little angry with him once you were back in the car, told him that you didn't want his money, but all he said was: “You are the most important woman in my life and have been since we started dating. This isn't about a pair of shoes or a dress, this is about your health and there is nothing more important to me than that.”

Man, you never thought you'd find someone who cared about you as much as he did..

min yoongi

Yoongi had used the spare key you had given him a few weeks ago to enter your apartment, putting down the food and smiling when he heard you yell out: “Two more minutes!” from the bathroom.

He made himself comfortable, took off his jacket and began opening up the boxes of food, when he saw a letter lying on your coffee table.

“I'm showered, I'm looking good, I'm hungry and I'm h..-” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw him hold up the piece of paper.

“Why didn't you pay rent?”

“I..- I just forget, I guess,” you lied, taking it out of his hand and putting it somewhere else, “I'll do it tomorrow, don't worry.”

“You're behind two months, (Y/N). Forget it one month, fine, forget it two months, there's a different reason.”

You didn't want to tell him because you knew he'd offer to pay, but you didn't want that. You've only been dating for a month, you didn't want him to give you money already because you were in a dire financial situation.

“I'll figure it out, okay? Don't worry about it.”

Yoongi didn't say anything that night, so you had thought he just shrugged it off and would let you deal with it. But when you went to pay your rent a week later with the last money you had, knowing that you'd have to go without certain things for a while, your landlord told you that somebody else had already paid for it.

And there was only one person who could have..

jung hoseok

You weren't living in Seoul, a little outside of it in a town that didn't really have public transportation, so you were dependent on your car. Not just to visit Hoseok, but also to drive to work.

And when your engine's began to die, you knew you were fucked, because fixing it cost almost as much as buying a new one and you didn't have money for either of it.

“(Y/N)?” your mother entered your bedroom, “I.. I think Hoseok is here.”

“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

However, your mother left out the most important part.

Hoseok came here in a brand new car. An expensive one. A luxurious one. One that wouldn't fall apart at any second.

“What is this?”

“Your new car,” he grinned, his sunglasses on his nose and the keys dangling from his fingers, “I wasn't sure which one you wanted, but I figured a black one like this is always nice. And I didn't want to ruin the surprise.”

“Hobi.. what the hell?” you didn't look happy at all, “I can't take this. This is too expensive!”

“It actually wasn't tooo bad.. the second the guy who sold it saw who I was, he gave me a really good price,” he cupped your face in his hands and smiled, “Listen, baby girl. You need something? I'll get it for you. Money is never something that you need to worry about.”

“You sound like a sugar daddy and I don't like that, Hoseok. I'm not with you for your money.”

“I know that. You're with me because you love me and because I love you back. And because of that, I want to buy you whatever you need, because you're the most important person in my life. So again, never worry about money.”

At first you hated it, but once you sat inside that car and the air conditioning worked – unlike in your old car. 

Let’s say you were a little more okay with it..

kim namjoon

Education has always been important to Namjoon. His own, but also that of you.

He was happy with what he was doing for a living, he wouldn't trade it for anything else, but he didn't want that life for you. He was happy that you weren't an idol and were studying hard to achieve your goals outside of the industry.

However, university wasn't cheap, he knew that as well as you did. The first few semesters were fine, you had worked before and were able to pay for it, got financial help from your family.. but now it's almost been two and a half years and your family couldn't help anymore. And your assets had all run dry too..

You were standing at the window, watching Seoul be as alive as it's been during the day time and trying to figure out what you would do, when Namjoon hugged you from behind.

“Why are you worrying so much, babe? We talked about this.”

“Namjoon, you have worked hard for your money. Your money. This isn't mine.”

“We're in a relationship and I'd like to think we share everything with each other.”

“But what can I give you back?” you turned around in his arms, tears already visible in your eyes, “You do so much for me and I feel like I'm using you if I take this money. I'm not with you for the money.”

“You know why I know that? Because we're having this conversation right now. Anyone who would be using me would just take my money and get on with it, but not you,” he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “You give me back love, support and a shoulder to lean on when I need it. I appreciate that more than I can say, (Y/N). You give back as much as you get, so please never worry about something like money.”

park jimin

It was always Jimin who paid for your dates in the beginning and while you have never been fully comfortable with that, there came a point where you just couldn't let him do it anymore.

You've been going on dates for two months now, it was about time you paid for the bill.

Problem was, you two only went to restaurants where you knew you would get privacy. And these kind of restaurants were all fancy as fuck.

So when the waiter placed the bill on your table, you nearly choked on your spit because of the number that was written there.

“Jagi..-” Jimin began, but you immediately shook your head and took out your card.

“It's fine, really. I'll pay.”

But it wasn't fine. Jimin knew why you wanted to do this, so he reached over the table and grabbed your hands, a small smile on his face, “You know what makes me the happiest in the world?��

“Hm?”

“When we go out and you eat a lot. Because then I know you're okay and happy. Then I know you're healthy and in good spirits. There is nothing that makes me happier, (Y/N),” slowly, he took your credit card and replaced it with his own, “So I'm gladly paying to see all of that.”

You wanted to argue, but the waiter stopped by to take the credit card away before you could.

One day.. one day, when you'd make more money too, you'd treat him to a nice and fancy dinner.

kim taehyung

“It'll be really nice, just us and our girls, the sun, the ocean, peace and quiet,” a friend of Taehyung's said over dinner, “You really should come with us.”

Taehyung looked at you, then pulled the phone of his friend closer to swipe through pictures of the villa that they wanted to rent for a couple of days.

It did look amazing, no doubt in that. A private pool, a private backyard, a private.. well, everything, basically. Taehyung was already on board with it, had agreed to it and was now talking when, where and how, while you were still swiping for more pictures. Until you accidentally swiped down and saw the price, your eyes widening because of it.

You were eight people. So that sum, divided by eight..-

“Taehyung?” you cleared your voice as quietly as possible and leaned over so that you could whisper: “I don't think I can afford this.”

“Huh?” he looked at the price, then he started chuckling, “You don't have to, love. I'll pay for it.”

“No, stop, don't do this. I don't want you to pay for my vacation,” you've only been together for four months, you didn't want to start this relationship by letting him pay for something so expensive.

“Listen, I want you to be with me. If all I have to do for you to come with me is pay that little sum, then I won't even think twice about it. I just want to spend a few days with my girlfriend without anyone bothering us.. like we're normal people.”

He looked so determined about this. Couldn't blame him, the stress of the last weeks had been hard on him and it was clear that he needed this break.

You were still uncomfortable, but then you heard that the other guys were all paying for their girlfriends too, so you ended up being semi-okay with it. Semi was the important word though. You would make up for it in other ways.

jeon jeongguk

“We've only been dating for two months.. I don't want to leave you alone for three, (Y/N).”

The downside of touring was leaving the people he loved behind. And he was just beginning to figure out his feelings for you.

“Hey, we can call each other every day or text whenever we want to.”

You knew he wanted you to come with him, but you didn't have the money to pay for all these flights, nor the hotels.

You weren't like him, you were normal. And sometimes Jeongguk seemed to forget that.

Or maybe not.

“You know I can pay for all of it,” he said, saying out loud what you've been worrying about, “It doesn't matter to me.”

“But it matters to me. You're not my boyfriend because of your money.”

“No,” he wiggled his eyebrows and pushed you down into the mattress of his bed, “I'm your boyfriend because you like me,” a kiss on your forehead, “Because you care about me,” a kiss on your nose, “Because you look out for me,” a kiss on your right cheek, and then finally he hovered above your lips: “And because you're beginning to fall in love with me.”

Aaaaand he got you.

You'd come with him, that's it.