#let's pretend the apartment is fully furnished

[secrettlme]

Making the most out of my one mirror

[bitchlessdino]

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone

You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.

You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.

“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.

“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”

The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day. 

You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.

“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”

Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”

Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”

He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.

He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.

You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”

The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?

Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”

You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”

“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.” 

“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”

“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.

Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.

"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.

He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.

You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”

He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.

With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.

As you walked  back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.

You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.

As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town. 

Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face? 

The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.

As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.

But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.

As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.

You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.

Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.

As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.

With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.

Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.

You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.

Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.

You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”

“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.

“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”

“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.

You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.

“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.

His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.

“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.

“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.

“I…need sleep.” 

You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.

“You know—”

“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”

“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.

“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.

“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“You tell me.”

With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”

And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.

“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat 

“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.

“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”

“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”

“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”

“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”

“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?

It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.

“Okay, ghostie—”

“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”

“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”

“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”

“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.

You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.

The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.

“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”

You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”

“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.

You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”

“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.

“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”

You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”

“Do you like that?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…” 

You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.

“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.

“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’

When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.

“You look happy.”

Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.

“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.

You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.

“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.

“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’” 

You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”

“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?

“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”

“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”

He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”

“So, you spied on me just because you could?”

"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."

"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”

You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."

You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”

You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”

“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”

“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.

“And you like him?”

Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”

“Does he like you?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”

There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”

“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.

He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”

He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”

He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”

“…You talk too much.”

“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”

You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”

Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.

As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.

“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”

Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.

He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”

“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”

You were really considering it—letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.

God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.

Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan. 

His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still. 

You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”

His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.

“Expected more from me, humie?”

You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”

Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.

‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’

You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.

It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’

“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.

"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”

“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.

"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"

Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"

You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."

Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"

You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.

Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’

Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.

Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"

Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”

Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."

Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!

But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."

With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.

Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”

The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever. 

As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.

‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.

“Humie–oh.”

“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”

“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”

You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”

“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”

If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.

“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”

“I can't afford that right now!”

“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”

“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”

“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”  

But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”  

One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.

“Seungkwan, hey!”  

“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”  

“Oh, uhhh…”  

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”  

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”  

“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”  

You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”  

As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.  

“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.  

He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”  

“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.  

He grinned, “Exactly!”  

You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.

Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next. 

You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.

"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"

"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.

He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”

You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”

You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.

“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.

You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?” 

The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.

Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?

Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.

“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan? 

‘It was so painful to watch.’

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.

“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”

Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”

Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”

“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.

A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”

He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”

“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”

“...yes. God, yes.”

He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.

‘That’s it.’

Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.

Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.

“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.

Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.

“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”

“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out,  gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”

Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”

He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.

His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.

‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’

You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue. 

‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’

“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.

His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.

Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.

“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”

“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. You‘re welcome.’

He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.

At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.

“Seungkwan, please…”

Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria. 

‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’

You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds. 

Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book.  "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.

You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Just like I wanted,” You teased. 

Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.

You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”

“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.

“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”

“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”

Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”

“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”

You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.

You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.

“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”

“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat. 

Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake. 

Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both��especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.

“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.

Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”

“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.

“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”

“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart. 

“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”

“Jeonghan, please.”

“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him. 

“Jeonghan!”

"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.

Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”

A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slip, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.

You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.

“An impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.

You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”

“Yes…more please…”

Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.

You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.

“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”

His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want you cum coat around my cock like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins. 

You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into obvious for what it seems like endlessly, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.

“Jeonghan!” 

“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”

“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”

“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”

“Fine,” muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”

And from that moment sleep was easy.

You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”

You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”

“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”

He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, i did that, didn’t i?”

“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”

“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.

As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassure, visibly gushing.

“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”

It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.

“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”

“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”

“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Pieces of media my mom has seen and the popular MLM ships in them that she doesn't think are gay:

MCU - Stucky (note that she does get a kick out of Stony stuff and she believes wholeheartedly that those two hate fucked in a not-filmed scene of Avengers 2012 so this is not about her thinking "oh Captain America is so straight-laced because he's the ideal American man" or anything)

MCU - Poolverine (she's fully aware and accepting of the fact that both Logan and Wade are canonically queer characters but she thinks all the flirting Wade did with Logan in the newest movie didn't necessarily mean anything because "he talks like that to everyone". Side note though: while she believes Wade should be with Vanessa, she does think that Logan can and should shoot his shot with Wade after Vanessa inevitably dies since he and Wade are both immortal. It's just that she thinks Wade should get his happy ending with Vanessa first.)

MCU - Lokius ("Mama have you ever seen a man fix another man's tie like that" "No but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen! I wouldn't know though; it's been like 15 years since I worked a corporate job.")

Sonyverse/Marvel - Symbrock ("They literally have a symbiotic relationship. That doesn't make them gay." So I showed her the comics where Eddie calls Venom "love" and gives birth to Venom's babies and she said "Fine you win but please never show me alien man birth ever again."

Supernatural - Destiel ("They're like Steve and Bucky! They're brothers in arms! They've been through hell and back together!" Note that she only watched through season 5 but she does know about a lot of their later interactions because I told her about them)

House M.D. - Hilson ("Dot I watched that whole show and they were never anything more than good friends" "What about when House admitted to thinking about Wilson during sex? What about that whole episode where they pretended to be gay for each other to prove a point to a neighbor and Wilson proposed? What about that whole episode where Wilson had to furnish the apartment and House told him not to let a woman tell him what to do but Wilson let House tell him what to do? What about the whole ending?" "Why can't two men just be close enough friends to joke about that stuff with each other?"

Real life - Me and my best friend of the same gender orientation who I've kissed multiple times and have had a requited crush on for years that neither of us have ever persued for logistical reasons (I literally used me and this friend to try and prove my mom wrong about Stucky and Destiel. I asked her if she thought me and this friend were like brothers and she said yes with a straight face)

Sherlock - Johnlock (to be fair this is the BBC ship name, but she doesn't think any iteration of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are the slightest bit gay. "They're business partners and roommates.")

Our Flag Means Death - BlackHands (Should go ahead and say that I'm not really a BlackHands shipper myself; we both really enjoyed Stede and Ed's romance in the show. BUT it takes so much away from Izzy's character and his development if you don't acknowledge that he was jealous of Stede and in love with Ed, at least a little. My mom thought Izzy was just an extremely loyal first mate.)

Also, for the record, I'm not trying to call my mom out as homophobic. I'm queer and so are two of my siblings and she's very supportive of us. There are gay romcoms she enjoys like Our Flag Means Death and Red, White, and Royal Blue. The reason I'm making this list is because I think it's really funny how she doesn't understand the concept of queerbaiting (not that all of the above listed ships are queerbaiting). She thinks things are either explicitly straight or explicitly queer (whether it's gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc) and cannot comprehend the idea that some character relationships are deliberately pushing the boundaries of straight friendships into queer relationships to get more minority viewers and I think her explanations are funny.

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 17-03: The Third Bang (第三声巨响) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 17-01

♡———♡

Knock, knock, knock - he knocked the door. After waiting for a while, seeing no response from inside, the man standing at the door knocked a few more times.

Zhou Yan: Miss?

-

You: ..........!

I woke up from my dream, the light above my head was on at some point, making it hard to open my eyes for a moment.

Outside the window was pitch black, the wind was blowing loudly, even the window glass was shaking. Time seemed to be suddenly fast-forwarded, in the morning the cicadas were still chirping non-stop, and in the evening there were already signs of bleakness.

But this has nothing to do with me, even if there is a typhoon or hail outside, I don't have to worry, I can't get out of this room now.

Zhou Yan: Miss Y/N, you ate too little for dinner tonight.

Zhou Yan: I prepared some food and put it at the door, you can eat some if you are hungry.

Disappointedly returning to bed, I was about to take medicine and go to sleep, but Zhou Yan's voice suddenly came.

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet.

Zhou Yan: You have a good rest, I'll go first.

Unsurprisingly, he always said that when he was questioned these days. I knew he was still watching outside, so I reached out and turned off the light.

You: I'm going to sleep, you can take it away, I can't eat it.

The room suddenly darkened, and without the light squeezing, memories rushed out from the silent night.

This is the third day since I left the Lu family castle, and it is also the third day since I was "locked up" here by Evan.

But I can't remember what happened that day. It was probably too sad, and my brain automatically turned on the protection mechanism.

All I can remember is Evan's last sentence "I'm sorry", and the scene of me pretending to be nonchalant and turning away after confirming his safety.

Upon waking up, I was here.

A very ordinary rental house, very similar to the one I lived in. So much so that the moment I opened my eyes, I even wondered if that day really existed, and if Evan was still waiting for me downstairs.

But it was only for a moment. Soon I saw the layout here clearly, it was not my home.

The layout of two bedrooms and one living room, the door of the room directly opposite is tightly closed. The living room furnishings are simple but reveal a bit of warmth, meaning there should have been someone living there for a long time.

You: Where is this?

I didn't have to wonder for long. The familiar buildings and central garden outside the window quickly gave me the answer. This house was actually in the same complex where I rented my apartment.

Only I rented in the east district, and this was the west district.

The two districts had separate entrances and exits, and there was usually no interaction between them. From the window here, I couldn't even see my own building.

In other words, I was now in the home of a stranger, a "neighbor."

As my consciousness gradually returned, I began to feel scared. Turning around, I bumped into an expensive-looking antique grandfather clock. The pendulum swung violently, and the room echoed with a clanging sound.

I quickly picked it up, but before I could put it back, a wet, dripping eave suddenly appeared before my eyes.

The sound of a vendor calling out "red bean ice," the sound of people, and the sound of rain all overlapped, and memories came flooding back.

And the person under the eave was staring out at the heavy rain, their eyes empty, lost in thought.

You: ....Evan?!

My fingers twitched, and I subconsciously let go of the clock. The image disappeared.

This is Evan's house. In that moment, I had this clear thought. The person who took me from the castle must also be him.

You: Did he rent a place here after helping me look at apartments last time, thinking it was close to the company?

This guess was dismissed before it even fully formed. He's the CEO; he doesn't need to worry about commuting like I do. This isn't a high-end complex, either. There's no reason for him to live here.

So is there only one answer left? To watch me, to get close to me.

My heart suddenly became a tangled mess of emotions. A strong urge made me want to run to him immediately, look into his eyes, and ask him clearly and directly.

Why do you live in the same complex as me? Didn't we agree to be done with each other? Why did you bring me here?

Why did you leave and then come back to save me, making me mistakenly believe you cared about me countless times, only to push me away again and again after I responded?

Why are you always there when I'm in trouble, and why is your company so warm and touching?

Why did you tell me so much about your past, things you didn't even want to talk about, but always avoid every "future"?

Too many "whys" filled the space between us, creating an illusion of intimacy. Now, taking them out one by one, I realize we were always miles apart.

It was all an illusion.

Thinking back, he never actually promised anything. Instead, he always told me not to trust him. It was me who was wishful thinking from the beginning to the end. No one should be held responsible for another person's illusions.

And after I suggested we call it even, he said nothing. This must be the outcome he wanted.

Continuing to dwell on this would only make me look pathetic. Forget it.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the events of the past year overlap in my mind.

Actually, it's good that it ended this way. I don't have to be so insecure and anxious anymore, I don't have to be deceived by him, and I can regain my self-esteem.

Or rather, it should have been this way all along. How much of our intimacy was built upon his deliberate and calculated approach? Without all that, we would have just been two strangers.

I haven't lost anything, I'm just back to where I started, I tell myself. Let it go, don't cling to it.

Yet the more I think this way, the more reluctant I feel, even a strong sense of heartache. I don't feel the relief and ease that should come with ending a relationship. Shouldn't I be feeling that way?

What's worse is that I still can't let go, I still want to ask him for an answer.

My thoughts were a tangled mess, impossible to cut through or sort out. I decided to leave this place first and go home to be alone. But Zhou Yan stopped me.

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, you can't leave yet, and your phone will be temporarily withheld. As for when you can leave, I'm not sure.

He said this was Evan's order, and the company had already asked for leave for me. And he would be staying next door, and I could ask him for anything I needed.

You: So this is house arrest?!

I looked at him incredulously, trying to find a hint of a joke in his expression, but there was nothing.

You: Why? Did Evan say anything else?

You: I can't leave temporarily - is it because there's danger outside and I have to stay here? Or...

I thought of almost every reasonable explanation.

Zhou Yan's eyes suddenly showed a bit of sympathy, but he still didn't speak, just looked away. This unusual behavior gave me a bad feeling.

You: Or something happened to him?!

I suddenly grabbed Zhou Yan's sleeve.

You: What happened after that day? I want to see him!

I tried to control my emotions, telling myself that Evan would be fine, hadn't we confirmed it that day? But I couldn't calm down.

You: Say something!

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, the boss didn't explain why you can't leave. But rest assured, the boss is really fine.

Zhou Yan: He left after sending you here that day.

You: Really?

I was still worried, staring at him for a long time until I was sure he wasn't comforting me or lying, then hesitantly let go of his hand.

You: So... he just wants to lock me up, right?

I don't know why I thought so, but I did.

And Zhou Yan didn't speak again, in the even longer silence, my heart sank little by little.

You: How could he do this.

Zhou Yan kept saying the same thing, sorry.

Actually, everything before didn't make me angry, it just made me more sad. But at this moment, I was really angry.

I tried many ways to get him to let me go, but neither threats nor pleas worked. I wasn't his match physically either, and even after I said I would go on a hunger strike, he remained expressionless, without any reaction.

I was so angry that I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it at him. In the end, I could only watch him close the door and leave. And I stood there for a long time before I could get myself out of the anger.

How could I forget, it's always been like this, as long as it's something Evan wants to do, he'll do it at any cost. It was me who thought of myself as too important in his heart in the past.

To him, I must be just a tool.

So, does he keep me here because I'm still alive and have some use left?

Or is it because saving me disrupted his original plan, so he has to keep an eye on me and wait for the right time to send me over?

I can't control my malicious speculation. I have to think as darkly as possible.

Because as soon as I close my eyes, the image of him turning away as I begged for help will firmly occupy my mind.

Because I realize that even so, even though he deceived me and even considered disregarding my life, the first thing I thought of when I woke up was, how is he doing?

Including that day when he finally let me leave, I kept looking for excuses to return to him.

I feel like I'm going crazy, why do I still care about him? Wasn't he nice to me from the beginning to the end just because I was useful to him?

But every time I think of him standing in front of the broken stained glass window, asking me with a strange and sad look why I went back, my heart wavers.

He could have chosen not to save me.

Or, he could have sent me over earlier. Then maybe he would have succeeded.

Looking back now, there were too many unusual things that day, it was definitely not planned in advance.

Since I met him, he has always been calm and collected, he shouldn't be so impulsive.

So why, just one step away from the end, he's so smart that he wouldn't be unable to weigh the pros and cons.

Is it guilt? Only guilt? Are there any other reasons?

But this time I don't dare to think deeply, afraid that I'm deceiving myself again.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. And it seems that heaven felt my situation wasn't bad enough, because the next day I woke up and found myself sick.

The cold came on fiercely, developing from a slight stuffy nose to difficulty breathing in one afternoon, even turning over was difficult.

My body surrendered first, and the escape plan I had just made had to be abandoned.

Probably afraid of being accused of not taking good care of me, Zhou Yan immediately found a doctor. After taking medicine and getting an IV drip, I still didn't get much better.

I knew in my heart that the biggest cause of this illness was my relationship with Evan, and I had to get over it myself.

The wind howled outside the window, seemingly getting stronger and stronger. Every time sleepiness came over me, it would be scared away by the sudden sound of the wind.

I don't like this kind of weather, it's as if the whole world is struggling, but I can only be awake and helpless.

You: Don't think about it anymore. Take some medicine and then go to bed.

I dragged my feverish body up, swallowed the pills, and suddenly saw my reflection in the uncurtained window.

The girl in the window stared blankly at me, dark circles under her eyes. The sparkle was gone, the smile on her lips had vanished, making me feel like a stranger.

I tried to grin, to make her happy, but it was futile.

I wasn't really that sad, just a little sympathetic. Sympathetic to the part of me that was trapped in an illusion and wouldn't let go.

The medicine eventually took effect and I fell asleep. And once again, I dreamed of Evan.

In the dream, we sat on the sand, the wind was light, and waves gently lapped at our feet.

We held hands tightly, as if we had endless things to say. We talked until sunset, the fiery red sun floating on the water.

I gave him a teru teru bozu doll, which he happily accepted. I couldn't help but ask him, "Shall we see all the oceans in the world together?"

He didn't say anything, just lovingly stroked my hair, the expression on his face making me think I was crying.

The scene faded to black. I opened my eyes and found tears streaming down my face.

I had thought that day would be a new beginning for us.

I blame the sunset for being too beautiful, so beautiful that it made one yearn for happiness after hardship.

I slept until evening. The sun had set, casting an orange glow on the window. I got out of bed and suddenly realized my body felt much better.

I stared at the clouds in the distance for a while, and suddenly, I remembered a phrase Evan told me a long time ago, "magic hour." He said dusk was the magic hour.

I was still naïve back then, but now, gazing at the boundary between day and night, an unprecedented melancholy welled up inside me. A feeling of emptiness and impending loss enveloped me.

I think I understand what Evan meant by magic.

Dusk has the power to soften all the sharp, raw emotions in the world, but that power isn't understanding, forgiveness, or letting go. It's not that kind.

It's a "forget it," something humanity has yet to understand.

Under the gaze of the divine, counting over and over again what else we have to lose, we become calm, eventually unmoved. In this way, we can endure with ourselves forever.

I suddenly understood why he said that if you like something, you don't necessarily have to possess it. Watching from afar might be the true form of possession.

Only those who have gained have the right to fear loss.

I've never understood him like I do now, and I've never longed to not understand him like I do now.

You: Think of it as an illness. You can only get better by letting go.

-

Under the cloak of a rare London fog, a shadowy figure emerged from the dense gray.

Clad in a sharp black windbreaker and leather gloves, he exuded the air of a hunter at home in the night.

An elderly man accompanied him.

The old man was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his graying hair peeking out from beneath his hat. Despite his advanced years, his eyes sparkled with vitality, and his every movement exuded an aura of authority.

Though he was the elder, he declined Evan's assistance, his cane tapping a steady rhythm against the ground.

Rumors of a highly gifted and strategic heir among the domestic bloodlines had reached his ears. However, he had long disagreed with the family's philosophy and therefore dismissed the stories.

As tales of the heir's exploits continued to circulate, his curiosity grew, but an opportunity to meet the young man remained elusive.

That is, until last winter's hunt in the south. He had fallen victim to an ambush, but thankfully, timely rescue arrived. While he recognized the heir's intentions as gestures of goodwill, he found them far from disagreeable.

His intuition told him that this young man was not the cold, heartless figure he had been portrayed as, and this hunch was further solidified during the subsequent private banquet.

As the strains of a haunting cello piece filled the air, he was transported back to his long-abandoned homeland.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, I will ensure that I am informed of Lu Ting's whereabouts, just as you have asked.

Northern Patriarch: The moment he sets foot in either the northern or southern territories, I will dispatch someone to notify you immediately.

Evan: I appreciate your assistance.

Northern Patriarch: There's no need to be so polite with me. You played a crucial role in capturing this southern treasure trove, making you an important ally of our northern region.

Evan smiled politely, taking the handkerchief handed by the servant behind him, and wiped the fog off his glasses.

Northern Patriarch: However, you mentioned earlier that the old patriarch's soul is now in Lu Ting's possession?

Evan: Yes. At that time, the patriarch's soul was severely damaged and showed signs of disintegration.

Evan: I initially thought that Uncle took the initiative to retrieve it and return to the castle to repair the soul.

Evan: But when I arrived underground, I didn't see anyone.

Evan: I also went to Uncle's residence, but the door was tightly shut.

Evan: Worried that something might have happened to the patriarch, I forced my way in, but still didn't find anyone.

Evan: Later, I heard that Uncle had left Guangqi long ago. I guess he might come here. After all, he has a close personal relationship with the western patriarch.

When he heard the word "soul," the old man's forehead was deeply wrinkled with crisscrossing lines. He pondered for a moment and nodded solemnly.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, I share your speculation, but it's not just for that reason.

Evan: I'd love to hear more details.

Northern Patriarch: Do you know that the British blood clan didn't actually go through the suppression?

Evan slowed his pace, as this did not fully align with what he had learned from the patriarch before.

The old man did not continue, he hesitated, hesitating whether to reveal everything, afraid that it would change the fate of the young man before him.

Evan: Rest assured, whatever you say, I will keep it as a secret.

The old man took a deep breath.

Northern Patriarch: Now, only our family knows about this in all of Britain.

Northern Patriarch: My grandfather told me this when he was still alive.

Northern Patriarch: Back then, vampires were still gods, and because they were close to the Creator God, they did not obey the order to destroy the humans she had created, angering the Creator God.

Northern Patriarch: She suppressed them into the seabed, but a small part escaped with the help of the Fire God, and they are our ancestors.

Northern Patriarch: As you should know, the vampires in Guangqi City were released from the seabed a hundred years ago only because they voluntarily accepted the divine punishment.

Northern Patriarch: Strangely enough, our ancestors did not suffer the divine punishment, but over time, they also showed the characteristics of vampires.

Northern Patriarch: This is still an unsolved mystery, maybe I won't get the answer until I'm in the grave.

Northern Patriarch: So, compared to you, the blood clans here have weaker talents and perception. They are close to humans.

Northern Patriarch: The blood clans in Guangqi have developed containers for survival, and the blood clans here have also had the same idea for their talents.

Northern Patriarch: Forty years ago, they developed a potion that could devour the souls of their own kind, and their talents would also be transferred as a result.

Evan listened calmly to the old man's story.

Northern Patriarch: Aren't you surprised?

The old man looked at the young man before him with appreciation.

Evan: There are only a few kinds of stories in the world, especially for power. It's not new.

Evan: So, you think Lu Ting came here this time to devour the patriarch's soul?

Northern Patriarch: My guess.

Evan: I see, thank you for the tip.

Evan: Can you tell me where the research institute for this potion is? Or do you know any researchers?

Northern Patriarch: The north did not participate in this matter, and we know very little.

Northern Patriarch: As for the researchers, I remember that the outstanding female scientist who solved this problem.

Northern Patriarch: My family should have some information, but it's very old. If you need it, come back with me.

Evan: Thank you, you've been a great help.

Evan opened the car door, and after the old man was seated, he was about to get in when he heard a flurry of urgent footsteps behind him. He turned his head and saw several servants running towards him.

Evan: What's the matter?

Servant: Patriarch, Master Evan. I just received a call from Mrs. West, she said she saw Lu Ting's tracks in the east.

Evan: East?

Evan lowered his eyes. In the few impressions he had, the eastern patriarch was eccentric and always at odds with other vampires. He had never heard of him having any personal relationship with Lu Ting.

Could it be that he was careless? Just like that day... Evan's fingers on the car door curled up.

He recalled the twilight that day, when he was out of control like never before. And she struggled to break free from his embrace, retreated far away, and looked up at him.

Those eyes full of tears were no longer filled with pity and innocence, but only pain that she tried her best to hide with calmness.

She slowly turned around, trembling with every step, yet so forcefully and resolutely.

Like a dying beast, finally realizing that loyal love can only lead to hurt. Despair forced her to cover her wounds and run into the depths of the jungle without looking back.

He suddenly felt a pang in his heart, and the sense of loss blurred his eyes as he chased after her. The girl had already fallen in front of Lu Ting.

Lu Ting seemed to think that he was the one who caused the patriarch's serious injury, and temporarily didn't notice the unusual power on the girl's body.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but also ignored Lu Ting's real purpose of deliberately losing to him. When he realized something was wrong, Lu Ting had already taken away the patriarch's soul.

Northern Patriarch: This old man in the east has never appeared before us since his daughter broke apart from him.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, do you need me to arrange for someone to investigate?

Evan: No, you just need to tell me, how long does it take to devour a soul?

Northern Patriarch: If it's quick, it can be done in a few days.

Evan lowered his head and thought. The female scientist, the eastern patriarch, the daughter who broke off... There seemed to be some potential connection.

Even though this connection was just his own inference and there was no evidence, he didn't want to miss any possibility.

Northern Patriarch: I know what you're thinking, it is possible.

Northern Patriarch: Once Lu Ting succeeds, his talent may be so powerful that it is beyond our imagination. You must be prepared.

Northern Patriarch: I'll send you off by helicopter.

Evan: Thank you, but that's not fast enough.

Evan: I have a favor I'd like to ask you for. Can you lend me a few people from your army in the east?

At first, the old man was a little puzzled, but soon he understood and nodded with a smile.

Northern Patriarch: Be careful, you're still injured. If you get hurt again, my daughter will be very sad.

Northern Patriarch: I'm waiting for you to come back and play chess.

Evan: Then I'll take my leave first.

-

He turned and disappeared into the fog once more, taking a leap. His entire body was like an agile griffon, silently leaping onto the towering spire of the church.

The speed was too fast, already beyond the limit that the naked eye could capture. Only the buttons on his collar reflected the moonlight, leaving a fleeting red dot in the night sky.

Evan leaped swiftly towards the east.

-

--In an abandoned laboratory in East London--

A middle-aged woman in a white uniform was intently operating the instrument in her hands. In the center of the instrument lay a man, lumps of flesh bubbling into a blood mist and being injected into his body.

As the blood mist was injected, waste slime began to ooze out of his pores, dripping and covering the floor. Until the last drop of slime fell, he suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils constricted instantly, and the glass surrounding him shattered.

The woman stood up satisfied, about to announce the success of the soul transfer, when suddenly, with a click, the metal object that was still in her hand pierced straight into her chest. In less than two seconds, her entire body shattered into a pile of blood clots, emitting a disgusting smell of iron.

And the culprit of all this had already sat up, his scarlet eyes half-closed, watching his masterpiece on the floor with amusement.

By the time Evan arrived, the blood clots on the floor had turned into nothing but eyes, wide open.

Lu Ting: You came after all, earlier than I expected. But it's a pity, you're still too late.

Capturing the fleeting shock on Evan's face, Lu Ting approached step by step with a smile.

Lu Ting: Don't think I don't know you got Wan Zhen while I was away, but I'm telling you, only the living can have the last laugh.

Lu Ting: Listen -- with that old man's talent, my heart beats so much stronger.

Lu Ting: I've been waiting for this day for so long, I have to thank you for helping me fulfill my wish.

Lu Ting: Don't worry, after I send you off, I'll kill that woman too, as a thank you gift from me.

Evan: The funeral hasn't even been arranged yet, yet Uncle can't wait to accompany the old man?

It was this hypocritical and arrogant appearance that he hated the most. Lu Ting couldn't help but raise his fingers, and under the moonlight, countless rare blood-colored bats turned into a gust of wind and rushed towards Evan.

However, Evan didn't dodge, letting those bats wrap around him, leaving terrifying blood marks on his skin.

He still walked forward steadily, approaching Lu Ting step by step. But with every step he took, his eyes darkened.

He was able to resist the Patriarch's weapon. Lu Ting had to admit that he had underestimated his nephew a little before.

So he calmed down and laughed in a low voice, but the laughter didn't seem to come from his throat.

In the creepy bass, the laboratory trembled rapidly, test tubes and instruments fell one after another, smashing the ground into a harsh crack.

Sharp glass shards like a slanting downpour!

Evan dodged sideways, but the bats clinging to his ankles kept tightening, pulling at his wounds that had not yet healed.

Evan: .....!

In an instant, the broken glass pierced into Evan's chest, and a large area of skin around him immediately became rotten. While blood was spurting out, his flesh and blood also shattered into pieces and fell straight down.

The glass exposed outside reflected his slightly frowned eyebrows.

Lu Ting grinned, and as the arc twisted, the glass went deeper.

Lu Ting: Are you going to die soon? What to do, I haven't even used half of my strength.

More rare blood-colored patterns began to appear on the back of Lu Ting's hand.

He just raised his hand, and more bats flocked in, scrambling to devour Evan's fallen flesh and blood.

The winding black is omnipresent, intertwined with Evan's shadow.

Blood dripped on the large black shadow, the shadow trembled excitedly, and absorbed nutrients frantically.

This is how the head of the family is, swallowed by Lu Ting bit by bit in despair and pain.

At this moment, the same fate befell Evan. The talents he could use were minuscule compared to Lu Ting's current state - this was the naked suppression of their bloodline.

Within seconds, the dark figure had closed in on his crimson eyes.

Lu Ting was about to step forward when suddenly, a bat plummeted straight down, landing with a "thud" on the floor, blocking his path.

Then, tens of thousands of bats swarmed into the laboratory, the night wind rustling.

Someone broke through the window. Lu Ting's abilities were still unstable. As soon as he was slightly distracted, the dark figure loosened its grip.

His body suddenly lost its support, and Evan stumbled half a step back, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead. However, he was still able to steady his breath.

In the midst of the clash, a small team of men lit up a signal and quickly escorted Evan into the boundless moonlight.

-

In the vast wasteland, only Lu Ting's figure remained amidst the wreckage.

He watched in the direction where Evan had disappeared, a look of disdain on his face. Gradually, the disdain turned into hesitation, and then into disbelief.

He had no idea when his nephew, whose talent was as monstrous as a beast, had become acquainted with the Northern Patriarch, or what he had done to garner such strong support from him.

Even though he had already transferred the Patriarch's talent, he still felt a chill deep within him. He reached out and grasped at the air, and the entire room crumbled into dust in an instant, dissipating into the wind.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 17-05

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here

[antiquatedplumbobs]

Tenement Dreams - 500 Follower’s Gift

A CC-Free Historic Apartment Building

Lot size: 30x30 Price: §294,150 Lot type: Residential Location: Waterside Warble, San Myshuno Lot challenges: Off-The-Grid, Creepy Crawlies, Filthy

If you’ve been looking for historical apartment options, boy have I got a build for you!

This is based off New York City tenement buildings, which were very common through the end of the nineteenth and into the early twentieth centuries. Furnished for 1890 these apartment buildings are ready for your new sim immigrants to move right in!

More details and download under the cut.

The idea for this build came from a conversation that @jewishsimming and @strangetown-hotel were having about the role that tenements played in historical immigration (particularly Jewish) to the United States at the turn of the century and how the decades challenge really has a blind spot towards this. I have had similar thoughts in the past, and actually started a decades challenge in an apartment over a year ago (before I joined simblr), but the modern aspects of the buildings made it really hard to immerse. I wanted to build a lot that people could use both the interior and exterior of for their historical gameplay.

My family themselves immigrated to the U.S. in the late 1800s through Ellis Island so this particular geographic location and time in history has always been really interesting to me. I really delved into the history a bit more for this build and tried to stay true to it while also making it gameplay friendly.

This build is comprised of two apartment buildings, both fully furnished. There is a total of four two-room apartments, and ten four-room apartments. The apartments are furnished identically, as I didn’t have the energy to furnish all of them individually and just copied rooms, I hope no one minds. Each apartment has access to an exterior fire escape. There are two bathrooms in each building, located on the first and third floors in the hallways. The furnishings are sparse and worn. The cost of each apartment is around that of a decades starter couple, so it is somewhat “accurate” in that regard.

The build is play tested for one couple, but I did not attempt any kind of roommate situation. It should work, but personally I find that to be too much of a hassle. I would just lock the doors for all the apartments your sims don’t live in (don’t forget fire escape doors) and pretend the neighbors aren’t at home.

I hope that everyone likes it, please let me know if there are any issues and please tag me if you use it. I LOVE to see people using my builds, it just warms my heart.

Available on the gallery as Tenement Dreams by antiqueplumbobs.

Tray files on Google Drive.

@twentiethcenturysims @maxismatchccworld

[halforcdad]

how do we think kacy's apartment is gonna change now that lucy has officially moved in. i'm thinking lucy's a house plant person (she's got three on her desk) and likely the plants at her old place were suffering because she was rarely there so it'd be nice to see their place start to fill up with well cared for plants. (kate makes an excel spreadsheet with all the plants, lucy's name for them, and their watering schedule because she will Not be responsible for any plant deaths)

step stool for lucy in the kitchen! lolol jk (maybe)

things will probably be a bit more messy, but kate still knows where everything is bc she's kate whistler so technically it's still organized!

in my mind, kate had a plant or two back in law school or dc, but she'd get too busy and they'd die so she stopped trying (ik she has plants in her apartment but let's pretend that the set isn't a fully furnished hotel for the sake of this lol), but it's much harder to put them aside and let them die when your girlfriend gives them names and or personalities (kate has definitely seen a sad lucy lamenting over her plant dying) so she definitely would be excel-ing and trying her best to get the routines down

for the most part though, lucy did mention that she thinks kate's good at decorating so i think she's still gonna let kate handle a lot of design choices. there's definitely still lucy all over the apartment though (a dallas cowboys cup here, her collection of watches there, her boot behind the couch clearly lmaooo)

definitely more photos around the apartment, on the fridge, and sticky notes (imo lucy seems the type to leave sticky notes behind like "thinking of you :)" or she uses them in general to keep track of appointments and shit while kate uses a calendar)

and i gotta say, after reading better off to stay, better off to say by nightshifted, im very attached to lucy having a hula girl bobblehead in her bathroom and migrating that over to kate's/their place

[syn0vial]

Hello Wise One! I was actually hoping if you can give me some solid personality pointers on Jango, rather than Boba, Fett?

sure thing! full disclosure that my knowledge of jango is not as extensive as my knowledge of boba, but i’ll do my best with what i have! here are some personality traits of jango’s i’ve observed:

paranoid/protective: this is a big one if you ask me. jango endured a life of betrayal and loss before he became a bounty hunter and it shows. besides boba, he doesn’t trust anyone fully, not even those closest to him and is always ready to cut ties at the drop of a hat—lethally, if necessary. his mistrust of the rest of the galaxy is so potent that when he takes boba on missions to populated areas, he instructs him to hide even from normal foot traffic and becomes anxious when he learns that others may have spotted him. it becomes pretty evident that part of the reason boba was so isolated growing up was that jango didn’t trust the vast majority of the galaxy enough to let them near the kid. and when other bounty hunters find out about him? ho boy. jango actually convinces them that he killed boba using a cloned child’s body, bc he’d rather be known as the worst kind of monster rather than make boba a target. there’s also the fact that, after their apartment on kamino gets found out by obi-wan, jango is packed and ready to leave in minutes. not only is he ready to bug out at the first sign of danger, but he’s well-prepared to do so at a moment’s notice.

a loving father: another big one. for those who look at a man as battle-hardened and stoic as jango fett and wonder whether boba got enough affection as a kid, worry not: in the vast majority of depictions, jango is a very loving father, especially when he’s out of the prying eyes of clients and colleagues. he hugs boba, tells him he loves him, joins him in playing with toy starfighters, and tries to make time for him as much as he can. he even does his dadly duty of going fishing with his son (though he and boba practice spearfishing rather than using a rod and tackle). there’s also a wistful little scene where, trying to help boba feel better after zam’s death, he takes him to kamino’s main spaceport and lets him infodump about all the ships he sees there :,) so overall, he has a lot of good qualities as a dad

controlling: and the other side of the coin! while jango is a genuinely loving father, he’s not at all the type to encourage his son’s independent development. self-sufficiency? sure. interests in anything other than the path jango has laid out for him? not really. he actively discourages boba from learning about “unimportant” topics from books, an apparently very broad category given it includes things such as schools, moms, and other children. he drills into boba’s head that he’s going to be a bounty hunter and that he needs to abide by a code with such healthy guidelines like, “don’t have friends or attachments” and “trust no one but use everyone.” boba, of course, goes with it bc he loves his father and wants to live up to his expectations, but he never really gets a choice in the matter. honestly, i think this side of jango is best summed up by him leaving a post-humous note for boba that says, among other things, “i am more than a parent to you.” it kind of goes along with how, after jango’s death, boba continued to think of his father not just with love and grief, but also an almost religious dread of failing his expectations. jango undoubtedly loved his son but he also seems to have defined a very narrow path for him to walk, without room for deviation.

possesses an actual charisma score: okay, now for a more fun one: jango has a charisma score and he apparently makes a habit of using it, to the point where his old friend rozatta pokes fun at him for it (he compliments her and she’s like “oh, you’re flattering me? must mean you want something!”) he also pulls the same thing on zam, calling her charming to get her to agree to help him break into a target’s stronghold. so yeah, jango fett turning up the charm to get people to help him/give him info? 100% canon, baby

very fun friendship with zam wesell: look, this isn’t a personality trait, but it’s important to me. these two are just so fucking funny together. like, on the surface, it’s just a fun dynamic of zam making flirty banter and jokes while jango pretends to be annoyed and drag her, much to her delight. but then on a professional level, you have these two ammoral assholes bouncing wildly between being one another’s Sexy Rival and being one another’s Unhinged Partner but whoops, jango went and had a kid, so now they’re Unhinged But Mostly Responsible Co-Parents. one of my favorite scenes is when, in an attempt to intimidate a prisoner into talking, zam impersonates a politician and lets jango pretend to “kill” her in front of him. for some reason, even after they’re done, jango continues to bridal carry zam’s “body” into the cockpit of slave I, at which point, she perks up, bats her eyelashes at him, and goes, “you’d never really kill me would you, jango?” jango quite honestly replies, “only if i had to.” there’s a beat and then zam’s like, “....you’re so sweet! 😘” honestly, they’re so stupid, i love them

ascetic: much like his son, jango doesn’t seem to have much interest in luxury or “the finer things.” despite having enough money to live very comfortably, his apartment on kamino is described as “spartan” in design and furnishing. this may have something to do with the first bullet point, given that a simple life is easier to pack up and take with you at a moment’s notice, but i do think there’s some amount of preference in this lifestyle, given it’s what both fetts seem most comfortable with in all circumstances.

traumatized: i mean, he’s a fett, ain’t he? particularly, just like boba after him, jango is traumatized by the loss of his family, especially his own father figure, jaster mereel. much like boba, jango seems haunted by the need to live up to jaster’s name and legacy. for background, jaster was betrayed and killed in an ambush by the leader of deathwatch, after which he passed on the title of mand’alor to jango. however, some time after this, the true mandalorians led by jango were wiped out by a combination of death watch and the jedi, with jango himself being stripped of his armor and sold as a slave. after this point, jango does not seem to see himself as worthy of jaster’s legacy and thus attempts to pass it on to his son, resulting in the high and narrow expectations he sets for boba as mentioned in bullet point #3. boba himself concludes as much as an adult. on top of the trauma of losing his family, jango also seems to have been traumatized by his time as a slave. most notably, when he’s being tortured after being captured by target komari vosa, he at first remains fairly stoic, even as she starts to mutilate his face. it isn’t until she mentions enslaving him that he seems to panic, struggling desperately to get away. vosa even laughs and says that she must have touched a nerve with her comment. basically: fetts be traumatized :(

soft spot for (some) kids: another thing that’s interesting about jango is that he... usually attempts to do right when kids are involved. i say “usually” bc fat lot of good it did all the cloned children he had a hand in creating >:( but, for example, after killing a runaway clonetrooper as part of a bounty, he finds out that the clone had a son. unwilling to let the child live in poverty due to his own actions, he has regular payments sent to the boy’s mother to help support him. in another instance, jango and zam help deliver an artifact to a client who intends to use it to carry out a terrorist attack on coruscant against millions of civilians. when zam finds out about the client’s intentions, she’s horrified and goes to jango demanding they steal the artifact back. jango completely brushes her off at first, telling her it’s not his problem and that he needs to spend more time with his son. zam coldly asks him how many “sons” he thinks live on coruscant. needless to say, her argument convinces him to join her in stopping the terrorist plot :,)

aaand that’s all i got at the moment! i hope it helps to characterize jango a little bit more!

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever. 

For the better, if she was being honest. 

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise. 

They looked at each other in shock for a moment. 

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked. 

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head. 

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family. 

It was absurd. 

Marinette found herself instantly amused. 

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts. 

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.  

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?” 

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged. 

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but… 

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.” 

“Why?” 

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.” 

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.   

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation. 

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?” 

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.” 

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?” 

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?” 

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.” 

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.” 

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.” 

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.” 

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?” 

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.” 

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?” 

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.” 

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.” 

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.” 

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed. 

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone. 

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly. 

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.” 

“Why both?” 

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing.  He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.” 

Jason moved closer to their showroom. 

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy. 

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom. 

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy. 

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...” 

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding. 

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?” 

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly. 

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight. 

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.” 

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.” 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

[look-ma-im-on-tv]

Crying

Dark Side!Roman

AO3 Link

Warnings: Self-harm by hitting, descriptions of anxiety, yelling, caps, let me know of any I need to add!

Description: Hurt/Comfort. Roman is devastated, and all he seems to do is make things worse, so he takes himself out of the situation. And since his feelings seem to make everything worse, he gets rid of those too.

Pairings: Familial... everyone I don't remember what that's called anymore.

I was possessed to write this I stg.

Crying.

Roman felt tears streaming down his face. Everyone just stared at him, curious expressions, but he couldn’t recognize even a hint of concern on their faces. He was frozen, unmoving, chains pulling every part of him down and tying him to the floor. His feet couldn’t lift, his lips couldn’t form words, his lungs couldn’t take in air. He was waiting for something but he didn’t know what. Permission to leave? For everyone else to leave? He wouldn’t know until it happened, and until that point, he was stuck here watching everyone stare at him.

Someone started to speak. To criticise him, he was sure, though he couldn’t make out their words through the fog in Roman’s head. The only thing he could do was fight at the invisible chains, desperately hoping that he’d leave. He was making a fool of himself, sitting here, crying. Just crying. Over his own damn mistake. The tips of his fingers tingled numbly. His short fast breathing felt as if it threatened to rip him apart.

Roman was shaking. He needed out. He needed free. He ripped at his arms, and finally convinced himself to sink out as fast as he could, knocking the breath out of himself in the process.

Roman’s familiar room carpet felt rough under his palms, scratchy, digging, too much. He yanked his hands up to his chest as fast as he could, kneeling on the floor of his room. A sob escaped him, with a wave of tears following. Roman sneered at himself. He was being such a bad person. He just had to run away. After something that was entirely his fault. How could he do this to them? He only ever made everything worse, he knew it. He felt his hand make a sharp movement, and a harsh thud against his thigh. Roman curled in from the pain. He felt his own eyes gloss over, tears suddenly stopping. He fell down onto his side, the rough carpet digging into his cheek.

He laid there, nearly unmoving, for hours or minutes. He couldn’t tell. Every time he felt stinging in his eyelids, from whatever painful thought came to his mind, a more painful thud followed. Harsh thoughts came by, they really don’t want you anyways; they’re happy you’re gone; they barely put up with you already, why would they come for you?

You’re just a villain.

Roman cried out, curling tighter into himself. The thought felt like a blade plunging into his chest. The world around him darkened in his vision, he was gasping for breath. He could barely feel himself move. It felt like he was dying.

Thud, thud, thud.

His tears kept coming, for so long. He kept crying. Sometimes he would completely fall apart, sobbing and screaming, then just as suddenly as it came on, it would stop. He’d lay there on the floor, silent, limbs throbbing with pain.

Roman felt bruises developing and smiled dryly. Eventually, everything slowed. And everything stopped. He could feel his heart beating and slowing in his chest. His fingers, his hands, felt numb. Felt separate from him. He held his hands out in front of him and noticed absently that a deep black color was bleeding out from the center of his palms and from each of his knuckles. His eyes burned every time he blinked. He shut his eyes tight, thick tears wetting his eyelashes once more. But this time, there was nothing behind them, no feeling, and no thud following.

Roman opened his eyes and from the small amount of his room he could see, he realized he couldn’t stand any of this anymore. His noble decorations, his stark white outfit, the royal red he once so admired; it all made him sick. Without moving a muscle, it all suddenly began to change. The little crowns and stars and hearts cracked in two. A black ink spot began in the middle of his chest, spreading in every direction until it reached the cuffs of his sleeves and the hems of his pants. And the red in his room bled out, disappearing and leaving only a dark grey behind. Roman managed a glance around the room, and was almost pleased with it all. It was far more fitting than the mirage he previously had surrounding him.

At the head of the room was a single chair. It replaced any other furnishing that was previously in the room. A lavish chair, black, and with shining gold decorations. Roman could just spot it out of the corner of his eye. And before he could even blink, he was sitting upright in it, one leg crossed over the other.

And like before, Roman was chained. But it was different this time. He didn’t want to escape. He didn’t feel the panic, the fear, the pain. And he knew what he was waiting for this time. Even if he wasn’t fully sure it was ever going to happen.

He was waiting for them. Whether they would be coming to stop him or save him didn’t matter, though the latter seemed very impossible. Roman was going to stay out of things. He wasn’t going to come and ruin things for everyone. However, if there was any chance they may come for him, he may as well look presentable.

Roman hadn’t come back. Everyone tried their best to give him his space, they weren’t sure what else to do. But usually, if someone needed space, they came back after a day or two. But it had been weeks, and everyone was sick of waiting.

“He can’t just not come back. Thomas needs more than half of his creativity. This is becoming a problem. How selfish does he have to-”

“Virgil, be patient with him.” Logan corrected him. “If he requires time alone, we should let him have it.”

“I know. I’m just…”

“Angry. I understand. But we must give him his time.”

“But-!” Patton shouted, “we can’t just leave him you guys! What if he’s hurt?”

Remus nodded. “Daddy here’s right, I’m not just leaving him with his thoughts. He’s not even letting me get to him through the imagination, it’s like he’s just… vanished.”

“Yeah! I’d want someone to come and try to care for me if I felt bad.” Patton continued.

Logan cocked his head to the side. “Well, that seems to be a tied vote. Janus? Do you have an opinion of your own that you might like to share?”

Janus raised his eyebrows. “Me?” He hummed. “I could get used to this. I suppose we should check on him. I mean, there is no chance he’s actually wanting us to come but is simply too afraid to ask.”

“Three to two. I suppose we can go check on him, so long as we do our best not to intrude.”

“Field trip!” Remus giggled.

Virgil groaned. “Can’t you at least try to take this seriously?”

Remus stopped in his tracks and turned to him with a completely stoic face. “No.” He shook his head. “No.” And as if the conversation never happened, he continued skipping away with a manic smile towards Roman’s room while everyone else sank out.

They all gathered in front of Roman’s room.

Patton gasped. “Is that his door?”

“It’s where it used to be, but…”

“It’s currently black, that’s odd. Why would his door change colors?”

“Well, that explains a lot for me at least! It’s been a pain in the ass to keep re-dying this!” Remus shouted, just approaching. But, suddenly he was different. His outfit adorned the bright white of Roman’s, and the green was slowly trying to fade into red.

Virgil nearly lunged at him. “What? You didn’t think to tell us anything about this? What, did you think it was funny?”

“Well, this is clearly far more significant than I originally assumed. Since you two are connected, this is likely an effect sourcing from Roman himself. We need to get in there immediately.”

Patton started urgently knocking on the door, poorly feigning calmness. “Roman? Kiddo? What’s up in there? Can you let us in?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Knocking is definitely the best strategy.”

“Well, what else should we do? It’s not like we can just break-”

“Remus, will you please break down the door?”

Before Janus could even finish his sentence, Remus already had his morning star raised and ready to strike. He swung it down, and a huge crack! came from the wood splintering. It wasn’t broken yet. Remus swung again, and again, tears beginning to pool in his eyes with every hit.

“Just! Let! Us! In!” Remus swung again, and the door gave way, making Remus fall through the pieces with the remaining force of his swing. He sat on the floor of his brother’s room, if you could even tell that’s what it was. It looked completely different.

Everyone else spilled in behind Remus, and stopped. The room was all black, with all sorts of the old decorations, papers, crafts, everything torn up and thrown across the floor. It was nearly impossible to see anything it was so dark, if it weren’t for the golden glow coming from across the room. In the center of the glow was a black throne, a dark figure sitting in it.

“Roman?”

His clothes were entirely black, save for some gold trim. And his face had dark black tear streaks that looked like flowing rivers of tar on his cheeks. His hands were pitch black and disconnected at the wrists. And the only trace of emotion on his face was a staged, cold smile.

“I’ve been waiting.”

Remus stood, weapon at the ready. “What have you done with my brother!?” he screeched.

“What are you talking about? I am your brother. The only difference is that I’m not pretending that I’m the hero anymore. That was a stupid idea to begin with, so I’m sure you understand.” His voice was monotone, with no trace of feeling or emotion, just flat and dead.

Patton’s own tears started spilling over. “What are you talking about? You are a hero, Roman! What happened?”

“I realized the truth. I make problems. Impulse decisions that hurt Thomas, because I felt too much. I was too emotional. So I took my feelings, and myself, out of it.”

“Emotions are an important part of Thomas, Roman. You should understand that.”

“No, you should understand, Logan. Thomas’ emotions are important. Not the ones I put into everything.” Roman’s hand waved away the conversation. “Besides, he’s got a different creativity, why would he need two? You seem to be doing so much better with me gone. You’re not fighting as much.”

“Bitch, I can’t be the only creativity! You know we had things the way we did for a reason, asshole! Now give me my brother back!”

“You are an integral part of Thomas as you were, Roman.”

“Roman, please! You know that’s not true!”

The scattered objects surrounding them flew up into the air and started spinning. “QUIET!” Roman shouted. “You’re all WRONG!”

The right hand, completely separate from Roman himself, curled up into a fist and slammed into the side of his face. Remus lunged at him, but was suddenly ripped back and thrown towards the back of the wall. Roman gasped, then returned to a completely stoic expression.

Roman’s eyes had a tinge of concern. “Remus? Are you hurt?”

Remus was already standing again. “No. Not at all, no thanks to you, dickwad!” He started to charge again, barely reaching the same point before he was thrown backward again.

“It’s not exactly… Well, it shouldn’t hurt anyways. But you can’t get too close. I can’t let you.”

“What did you want us here for if you won’t even let us approach?”

“I was just waiting in case you came. I didn’t expect you to. I guess it’s just a chance for you to know where I ended up. If you want, you can leave now.”

Virgil mustered everything he could and took a step forward. “We’re not gonna abandon you, princey. Not like this.”

“And what’s wrong with ‘this?’ I like ‘this’ perfectly fine, you can go.”

Janus stepped forward with Virgil. “We both know that isn’t the truth. This isn’t a solution to feeling bad. This is only hurting you more.”

“Why would you want to help me? Either of you?” Roman shook his head. “And anyway, that’s the thing. I don’t feel bad. I can’t now. It’s perfect. I can’t make those mistakes anymore. I won’t call either of you names, because I have no feelings to make me lash out. It’s perfect.”

“But you can’t feel good either, Roman!” Patton pleaded. “There’s a reason we have emotions, don’t you like feeling happy?”

“I…” Something flickered in his eyes. “Even ‘good’ feelings only caused problems. Those are the ones that made me choose things that would only be bad for Thomas. Like… a chance in a lifetime callback.” He chuckled dryly, his breath catching partway through. His expression changed, a frown and furrowed brows. “I…” The hands curled up and pressed into his eyes. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, he shot back up into the same pose and expression as before. It was almost as if it was a whole other person sitting there. “I promise, I’ve thought this through. It’s the best option for everyone.”

“Well, we didn’t exactly get to vote on it, did we?”

Roman laughed. “Are you kidding me? Why are you all trying to stop this? You have to pick one you know! You can’t just want me there when it’s convenient for you! All I did was make mistakes, so I took myself out of it! And now… That’s a mistake too? No! No, you’re wrong. I know what I’m doing. I’m helping!” A tear spilled out of his eye, and he winced in anticipation. Thud. Thud. Thud.

With every hit, someone ran forward, trying to stop it before just being tossed backward. It wasn’t supposed to hurt them, but Roman couldn’t focus enough to be gentle. Patton, Remus, and Virgil lay at the back of the room, the breath knocked out of their lungs.

Logan and Janus stood still in the middle of the room.

Roman’s head shot up, the hands returning next to his wrists. His face was covered even more in the thick tear streaks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice was cracking with the effort to keep it steady. “You need to leave. All of you. I thought that I was better already, but I’m not. If you ever want to visit you- no. No, you can’t visit. That’ll make things worse. So just… Get out.”

“We aren’t leaving you, Roman.”

“It can be tempting to shut yourself away from the world, and away from feelings and emotions, however, you need to realize that this isn’t healthy.”

He shook his head. “Stop telling me I’m wrong. I don’t care what you think, you just need to leave.”

“Roman, none of us are bad, including you. You just need to-”

“I said STOP! You’re making things worse by being in here. If you won’t leave on your own I’ll make you leave. Why won’t you just listen to me? It’s for your own good!”

Logan started, “Roman, we-” and disappeared.

“What did you do with him?” Janus demanded.

“He’s not hurt! I just... sent him to his room and closed the door.” He paused for a moment. “Goodbye.”

And Janus disappeared too. Remus, Virgil, and Patton sat up against the wall furthest from Roman.

“You have to leave too. I’m sorry. Bye.”

“Wait!” Patton shouted. “Roman?”

He froze. “What? You can’t convince me to stop this.”

“I think I know that. But for what it’s worth… You’re my hero, Roman. I’ll see ya later.” Patton turned to the other two and smiled. “Good luck, I think you got this. You can get through to him I’m sure.” Patton sunk out.

The room got darker, and Roman’s hands clasped over his ears. “No! No, you can’t just-!” He shook his head, his breathing erratic.

Virgil and Remus nodded to each other, and Virgil stood up.

“Roman? Can you hear me?”

“Quiet! You can’t-!”

“I know. It’s scary. Trust me, I get that. But it’s okay! You can feel bad!”

“No!”

“Yes, you can! You’re strong enough.”

Thick tears poured down his face. “I- It just ruins things!”

“I know what that feels like! But even the parts you think are bad are important.”

“You don’t-”

Virgil took a few steps forward. “Yes, I do! Roman, I’ve ducked out! I know what you’re going through! But you’re just as important as everyone else, emotions and all. You do a lot of good for Thomas. For everyone!”

A sob broke through. “I don’t-”

“Yes you do, Roman. You’re so important. And we care about- no, we love you, Roman. You’re part of the family. You know that.”

“I’m… You… No! I can’t-!” The hands raised up, ready to strike, but stopped in their place. Roman blinked, and Virgil disappeared.

Remus stood. “Virgil? Shit!” It was his turn now. He stepped closer. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Roman’s head snapped up, the hands lowering. “Remus? You’re… still here?”

“Of course I am! Now cut this shit out!”

“What… no, no, I’m not going to. I have to keep this.”

“Why? It’s ridiculous!”

“No, it’s not! It’s helping!”

Remus took another step. “How is this supposed to be helping? You just threw me against a wall!”

“That was an accident! I didn’t-”

Remus groaned. “It’s fine. Just stop all this.”

Roman cried, “I can’t!” His head hung down. “I can’t stop any of this!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s… safe! If I just stay in here and don’t feel anything, and you all stay out, no one can get hurt!”

He just had to get close enough. “Getting hurt is part of life, dumbass! But it’s worth it because so is everything else. You get to be happy, you get to have people who care for you!”

“They don’t really ca-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, you know that’s a goddamn lie! Why else would we come here?” Remus sighed and shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Ro-bro, we care about you a lot. No one wants to leave you here to rot.”

“Ro… You haven’t called me that in years.”

He was almost there. “We’ve both fucked up, okay? Just cause we’re different doesn’t mean we should fucking fight about it.”

Roman didn’t respond. Remus stepped closer.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure that out later, when you’re back.”

“I just don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m sorry that I made you take that role.”

“I know you don’t. You’re not the bad guy. Neither of us are.” He was close enough now. “Roman, you can still be the hero.” Remus kneeled in front of the throne, tears spilling down his own face. “You just need to come back, Ro-bro. It’ll be okay.”

Roman smiled sadly and limply collapsed into Remus, his own hands clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

“Please… please don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to, Ro-bro.” Roman closed his eyes.

The door behind them swung open, smacking the wall next to it. Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Janus came running through. The brothers were back to their proper colors.

Virgil hesitated. “Is he… okay?”

Remus wiped his face. “Yeah, I think he will be. Let’s get him out of this shithole though, he’s been here for long enough.”

Remus stood up and carried Roman to the door. Everyone else stood there.

“What… happened?”

“A lot. But he’s better now. Meet you all downstairs at the couch. Don’t come empty-handed, it’s movie night.” And he walked away.

Virgil and Janus brought down as many blankets and pillows as they could find; Logan grabbed the movies and a special weighted blanket for Roman, and Patton supplied the food and hot chocolate.

Roman was situated in the middle of everyone, still sleeping. When he did wake up, a couple of movies in, everyone smiled at him.

“What…” His eyes widened. “Are- are you all okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Roman. We’re here for you, and we’re all okay.” Patton beamed, “I’m so proud of you for making it through that.”

“But I…”

“That must have been horrific to go through, but you were very brave,” Janus added.

“You’re all okay? I don’t… remember much. But I-” Roman tried to sit up suddenly, and winced. “I- you were flying at the wall and- are you sure you’re okay?” Remus, Virgil, and Patton nodded.

“We’re fine, Princey. We promise.”

“I… I’m so tired.”

“Well, there’s no way we can tell quite how long it’s been since you slept, so that’s not exactly unexpected.”

Janus agreed. “You should rest Roman, it will be good for you.”

“But, you-”

“We’ll all be here when you wake up kiddo, let yourself rest.”

“Re? You…”

“Quiet, I’m taking a nap too.” He smiled, genuinely. “It’s a lot of work saving your ass Ro-bro. We should get back to sleep.” He closed his eyes. “We’re both heroes for getting through all that today. We can talk later.” He paused. “And if I’m not here when you wake up, you can always come get me. We’re there for each other.”

Roman felt his tears on his cheeks, but they were good this time. He felt so warm, and safe, and loved. He let himself breathe, lay his head down, and close his eyes. He was finally relaxed, and happy. Roman fell asleep, surrounded by everyone he cared about, with a smile on his face.

Heroes.

[cloudbeom]

When another member sets you up | TXT

Group: Tomorrow x Together

Notes: hope you like it !

Choi Yeonjun

the moment Yeonjun had laid his eyes on you at the clothing store, he knew he had to leave with your number in his phone 

"hey, hyung," beomgyu asks, looking up at the pink haired male who was pretending to survey a section of women's jeans, "hyung… what the heck are you doing?" 

"what do you think I'm doing?" yeonjun retorts with a smile, "give me a second, i'll meet you at the front," 

and he leaves beomgyu there fazed, making his way towards you who seemed busy

yeonjun had just wanted to maybe walk up to you, ask if you were single and if you had any plans for tonight. nothing too overwhelming. but when you had suddenly turned to him, his mind had gone haywire. 

causing him to say what was probably the dumbest thing ever

"what's the price of this shirt?" he asks, picking up the first outfit he could grab. you look at him like he was crazy, then look down at what he assumes was the price, and he mentally curses. 

but instead of walking away from him, you smile softly, "perhaps you'd want me to.. write the price down?" 

and when he had left the store with exactly what he had wanted (your number, that was), you had to make sure to treat your best friend beomgyu for planning the whole thing. 

Choi Soobin

it had been a long time since soobin had seen someone besides his usual friend group. and with how lonely he always looked whenever watching romance movies, kai knew he had to introduce you to him. 

so one day that was supposed to be just them, kai had decided to tell soobin he had to go to the local clinic for an emergency 'cavity filling' (which was a horrible lie), and he had told soobin that another person will be there in exchange of him

and that's where you had come in. you were a close cousin of kai, having just moved to seoul to the university they were attending. which was a perfect opportunity for soobin to show you around.

"its kind of strange," you say to him once he finishes the tour, and soobin softly hums, "kai told me he would give me a tour but at the last minute couldn't due to bad internet," 

soobin had to laugh at that. yeah, kai couldn't lie if his life depended on it.

"trust me, the reason he gave me was even worse," he says, finding your presence comfortable, "but it was really great meeting you," 

"and you," you say, dramatically bowing afterwards before you giggle, "but I'd really like to get to know more about this place… what if you give me a tour of the city and maybe.. dinner?" 

you sounded hopeful as you looked up to him with a smile, and soobin returns your offer with a warm hand clasped around yours and a smile back. 

Choi Beomgyu

it was odd when soobin, his roommate, had forced him to go to a furniture store when they didn't even need any other furniture

"what are we even doing here?" beomgyu had asked once they arrived, "our apartment is fully furnished!" 

soobin had been looking at his phone with a smile before turning to him, grinning, "ah, gyu, I have to ask the.. counter about something, wait here!" 

it was painfully obvious he was lying, but deciding not to ask further, beomgyu just rolls his eyes as he watches him walk away. 

seeing as there was no one there, beomgyu had decided to lay on one of the beds comfortably. because hey, soobin had brought him here against his will, if they get kicked out it was on him. 

only, when he had heard someone clearing their throat, he half expected a worker. only, he was met with a cute girl not in work attire, staring down at him. 

beomgyu felt his cheeks heat up as you cocked your eyebrows, as if looking disappointed. 

"you're… choi beomgyu? I can't believe that idiot soobin set me up with you in a furniture store.. " 

that made his eyes widen, "soobin… WHAT?" 

least to say, bullying soobin and making him pay for both of your breakfast was a perfect first date. 

worth it, though. soobin had smiled to himself

Kang Taehyun

"hyung, we've been hiking for a whole hour," taehyun had panted out, tugging at his workout buddy's sleeve

"the sunrise is in ten minutes, tyun ah! just bare with me for a bit more, okay?" yeonjun grins, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

but it had been worth it when the two of them had reached the summit just as the sun had peeked beyond the horizon. the air had been colder than when they were climbing that it made taehyun's breath shake. 

the view had distracted him from the fact that yeonjun had dissapeared into the bushes, and another set of footsteps approach. 

"it's beautiful…" 

"isn't it?" 

the moment he heard higher voice that certainly didn't belong to yeonjun, he jumps and turns around, meeting your gaze.

you were smiling warmly, hand out to welcome him as if this mountain was yours, "I'm y/n! yeonjun had said you needed a trainer?" 

"a trainer?" taehyun asked in shock

"oh right, he did tell me you didn't know," you had laughed, "well, I'm your trainer! let's met each other here every day for your training okay?" 

yeonjun was definitely getting an earful later

but also a thank you, as that place had became the place you both went to on your anniversary years later. 

Huening Kai 

surprisingly, or not, the way taehyun had set the two of you up was the normal way.

he had messaged you to meet him at the cafe across the street because he had something important to tell you. you would have been worried at that part, if it weren't for the fact that he had also told you to wear something pretty. 

only, you would soon find out that the something 'important' had actually come in the form of his other friend, huening kai. 

he had talked a lot about this kai person, but this was the first time you had actually met him. the moment you sat across from soobin in the cafe was the moment you had noticed him. baby blue hoodie and soft hair that resembles a heart on his forehead. you felt your face heat up because what the fuck he's so cute. 

"y/n, this is kai," taehyun says innocently, "kai, y/n," 

"it's nice to meet you, y/n ssi!" kai grinned, "i like your- wait, is that a molang keychain?" 

when he has noticed the cute bunny keychain on your bag, it had sparked a conversation that lead to another, and eventually, you had both left the cafe with a promise to see eachother again. 

"you're not mad at me… are you?" taehyun asks with a smile when you left with him, kai having to go the other way. 

"shut up," you giggled, nudging him. feeling excited to see the boy again.

[boopernatural]

Any hc about Jake moving with Amy? Not what we get to see in canon, I mean the day he moved with her, pack his things at his place and un packed at her (their) place, their first night actually living together. Love ur writing btw.

Amy has a very detailed list of things to do and the correct order to do them in order to stay at peak efficiency

A lot of his stuff doesn’t end up making it to the new apartment. His crappy old massage chairs get sold, his broken popcorn maker is tossed, and his collection of old playboys is donated (save for a few special favorites. Some that even Amy admits to liking.)

They definitely take the new mattress Jake had recently bought. He takes down the bed and rebuilds it in the new place in Amy’s bedroom, and she watches his arms flex while he uses the tools, pretending she’s not horny so they can stay on task

Jake always rushes to take boxes from her if they look too big or heavy, and she has to remind him that she’s stronger than she looks, and his overprotectiveness is derailing the schedule

He retaliates by not letting her carry anything over 10 pounds. She purposefully grabs multiple items so they pile up and weigh a ton. They’re both so stubborn.

After a long day of moving and rearranging, they’re both exhausted. They sit in the dining room, which of course is fully furnished. There are a few unpacked boxes and some Knicks memorabilia that wasn’t there before, but otherwise its still just Amy’s place. Well… THEIR place now.

They eat Chinese food and pass around ideas to redecorate the bathroom, Jake wants Star Wars, Amy wants a beach theme. They later compromise with a few nice paintings of Leia in her bikini on the beach, and some seashell soap holders. It’s weird, but Amy finds herself doing a lot of weird shit now that Jakes in her life.

The first night, Jake wraps his arms around her in bed and smiles contently. He strokes her back and kisses her hair and gushes about how he’s so excited to wake up next to her every morning. He admits that he can’t wait to make this place a home for their future babies, and she demands to know why he waited so long to bring that up. They brainstorm baby names for their (in the distant future) babies and Jake talks Amy into eventually buying a lizard for their unborn future offspring. Since dogs are a no-go.

The first morning, Jake wakes up early and takes it upon himself to make them a breakfast to “christen” their shared kitchen. Amy reminds him they’ve both cooked in it plenty of times. He ignores her and reminds her to enjoy the pancakes, they’re extra special.

They both wear their glasses most of the day and spend a lot of time clinking together when they try to kiss. They don’t even care, because they’re so comfortable and at ease in their home.

They go through some of Jake’s boxes and find an old shoe container full of memories. Amy thumbs through childhood photos of him and smiles, picturing another little version of Jake running down the hall of this very apartment.

Despite their obvious differences with hygiene and tidiness, it all falls into place. Jake compromises quickly and looks after himself to make sure he isn’t leaving unnecessary mess. Amy learns to be okay with the small mess he is actually leaving. They grow together.

[bitch-its-me-alv]

You can’t touch what’s mine, bitch

(Part two of He is mine, bitches)

Damian was very proud of himself. He got a very hot and sweet boyfriend 13 months ago, managed to keep that boyfriend more than happy, and had managed to hide the existence of marin from his family for 14 months. 

He had no idea how an alleged family of detectives and vigilantes hadn't even noticed that their youngest member was in a relationship. And that he spent less and less time with them and more with Marin. He was severely disappointed in his family, although he never said it out loud, he thought they would make better opponents.

In Marin's apartment he even had his own closet where he had his clothes, the only reason Damian kept coming back to the Mansion was because of appearances and his precious pets.

But he knew he couldn't go on like this forever. he wanted to introduce his family to Marin, to see how damn perfect he was, his photographs around the world, his point of view so different from the others, the way he sang for Damian even when he was in another room… Well maybe if he kept to himself how weak he was for his boyfriend everything would be fine.

With a good contact on the dark web, he got a protector on his cell phone, and so there were more than two thousand photos with Marin. They on their first date, in the bathroom mirror, at gotham school, in the classrooms, in the cafes, in bed. Their chat seemed like they were talking for years, full of memes that Damian didn't understand at first, and memes with their own faces.

He take all possible measures, but never anticipated that Marin would get sick from some kind of virus, forcing him to stay in bed, well, Damian actually forced him after Marin almost fell down the stairs at school.

So when he informed his father that he would take a break from patrols until further notice, he turned on all the Wayne family alarms.

Little Demon Spawn wouldn't use patrols as an excuse to hit people? Would he pass up the opportunity to take his katana out of its case? Who had he killed? Oh my god, would he be doing drugs? Maybe that would explain the little bruises on his neck and wrist.

“Oh for all the bats, Bats, what are you going to do? your only son of blood became a drug addict!”Dick very concerned about his little brother's safety “Tim, hack his cell phone, look it up in the network of cameras in the city, we can't leave it like that!”

“Calm down, boy wonder. It is clear that he killed someone and he is not using drugs.”Jason tried to appease his brother in his mother hen way.

"Well, he's hiding something big, someone has been removing images from cameras for over six months, and Damian coincidentally never sees himself in them, not even at school.”Tim didn't want to alarm anyone, but the fact that he hadn't found evidence of his little brother in the last six months in the city was certainly a big concern.

Had he been going back to his habits from the prince of assassins?

Everyone looked at Bruce, waiting for his words. “We will follow him just to make sure he is safe, whatever his secret he will tell us sooner or later.”

(They didn't know it was more later than sooner)

Nightwing, Red hood, Red robin, and Batman followed the low trail Damian left when he left the mansion. Unaware of the luck they had, of Damian being in a discussion on the phone with Bourgeois, to distracted to know he was being followed.

They stopped on the roof opposite the minimarket that Damian entered. With tim setting up the microphone to understand what Damian was saying. Another red flag was that he could not hack his cell phone.

"There is no need for threats Bourgeois, I understand the delicacy of the situation, and I am fully prepared to waste a couple of days on the cause."

No one in the family harbored hope at this point.

After hearing Bourgeois rant about the importance of his best friend's health, Damian continued navigating the soda aisle, he would never understand why Marin insisted that Dr.Pepper was the best of drinks when Mountain-Dew was clearly superior.

"To prevent him from trying to escape I had to chain him to bed, his insistence on continuing with his final project is very irritating, I am grateful that he can hardly speak at this point, or else his voice would be ringing throughout the department."

The whole Bat family was shocked and disappointed, Damian was holding a hostage somewhere horrible, and he was working with someone else.

At leaving the store, the vigilantes dispersed, all decided to find Damian's hostage, then they could deal with Demon Spawn. They were a little scared of what Damian could have bought in a simple minimarket to use as torture.

From Damian's phone, Chloe gave up with her hateful act and said goodbye to her best friend's boyfriend. "Just make sure he recovers properly, it is very rare that he gets sick, no matter what country or climate Marin was in, he almost never contracted any disease."

"I am conscious chloe, we both know that if there is someone Marin surrenders for, it will be me. I will inform you of any change in his condition."

He hung up the call as he entered his apartment building. His call with chloe lasted his entire journey on the street, luckily he was about to spend all his time with his soft and muscular boyfriend.

Meanwhile, on the rooftops around, the watchers waited for a more appropriate place for torture, but with their beloved Demon Spawn they never knew. Tim pulled out the binoculars so he could see through the walls of the building, looking for the poor soul that Damian held captive.

What they did not expect was for Damian to reach the top floor of the building, taking off his coat and shoes as he entered. The apartment very well furnished and full of life, as if someone actually lived there.

Batman was about to fly straight to the biggest window in the apartment, when what Tim saw made him fall backwards. Bats snatched the binoculars away from him before anyone else could.

"Bats you really don't want to see what's going on there, you wish you could forget it!" All the boys went crazy trying to get Tim to tell them what he had seen.

Inside the apartment, Marin was chained from his right hand to the head of his bed, his mystical blue eyes reddened at the corners, his body rendered by the dark green sheets that Damian had insisted on buying or would not sleep in bed. Marin saw nothing wrong with the old bear sheets.

Instantly Marin felt better when her grumpy boyfriend came home. If he could have produced any vaguely human sounds, he would have rushed Damian into the room.

Before Damian could say anything to his very sick boyfriend, Marin pulled him down onto his chest. Damian was very frustrated that despite all his years of killer training, he always fell on his boyfriend's chest. It was very common to find himself more than six times with his face buried in his hard chest.

So as a very usual act, he made himself comfortable to lock Marin between his body and the bed, holding on tight as always.

They give each other a chaste kiss to avoid germs, but the habit is difficult to break even for a few days. Tim falls on his back at that moment.

“Why did you take so long? It is sooo boring here without your vocabulary of yesteryear and your beautiful frown.” Damn the expensive cologne that always clings to damian, making his neck and hair always so tempting. He curses his body that matches him, which is always ready to attack at any time, and curses his sharp jaw.

"Your very dear best friend distracted me all the way, pretending to be the enemy, as if she hadn't been happy for us when we got together"Damian rolls his eyes.

Marin apparently having said the last thing his throat could handle surrenders to his boyfriend's possessiveness, letting Damian give him little kisses all over her face, excluding his lips. 

Across the street batman curses and turns around, contacting agent A. Tim comes out of his stupor and tells his brothers what he saw. They also desperately contact agent A, the only sane one in any situation.

Two days later Marin is fully recovered, shining like a malicious and amiable ray of sunshine. 

After Marin confessed to Damian that he knew he was Robin by his butt, and consequently deduced who the other bats were, along with super boy and superman, the barriers of the alter egos had fallen, and in exchange Marian told him about what he found in the Amazon caves and about who his relatives were.

To say that Marin had been about to split the marble island of his kitchen in two because of nerves would not be a lie, but once again, Damian surprised him by saying that it was not very important in his relationship that he had villains as a family, reminding Marin that his mother and grandfather were assassins and that he was also assassin at some point.

So there were no unpleasant surprises in their relationship, but there were surprises for the rest of the world. Marin knew about the secret that Damian was hiding from his family, because he was the secret.

He didn't get it wrong, no, Marin knew that Damian was more than willing to tell the world who he was dating, if the first selfie he published was something to consider, or ... all the broken hands he left behind because he thought they were very comfortable with him.

Oh, he loved when damian got all possessive, like a bristling kitten, or rather a panther ready to attack.

Returning from his fantasies, Marin decided to tell Damian that his time was up. His aunt Ivy had mentioned that the cameras hidden among the succulents had caught the bats spying on them days ago. Harley and ivy investigated before informing him, wanting to make sure they weren't going to confront him.

He loved Ivy and Harley, but the fact that they had called his parents and his nonna had not made him very happy, now he would have to explain why he had not told them about his boyfriend.

Marin hoped that the feeling of imbalance that was beginning to form in his chest was only the work of the family drama that was coming and nothing else.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Damian was a bit more bitter than normal at school during the morning, he would admit that his call with Bourgeois distracted him from his surroundings, but it was about time that his family began to suspect.

Obviously he didn't take it out on his angel, he was what kept him going, so if Marin's fans came out with completely unnecessary bruises, neither Jon, Chloe, or Marin said anything.

And when Marin started kissing him more often to distract him nobody complained so much.

By the middle of the school day Damian had his hair messed up by Marin, Jon had chosen to warn Marin's outside friends about getting close, and Chloe was on her cell phone as usual. But a strange call to Marin sparked everyone's interest.

Marin reluctantly answered upon seeing the unknown number, but when no one spoke on the line, he knew it was a premonitory call.

The group partially aware of Marin's secrets nodded in acknowledgment, attentive to what was to come.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Tim was ready to die, Dick was almost there, and Jason was more than pleased to help his little brothers leave this plane of existence.

Bruce was regretting in the darkest corner of his cave, what had he done wrong for his son to hide his partner? The moments of fatherhood that he shared with his son came to his mind ... and he realized that in reality he had not done much fatherly, so it made sense.

“I can't find any mention of Marin Dupain-Cheng, Jon Kent, Chloe Bourgeois or Damian on the internet for the last year. Everything has disappeared since October 28 from last year.”Tim was going crazy, he couldn't possibly find nothing.

“Calm down replacement, you can not find anything because you are looking for them from our devices and accounts. Alfred lent me his cell phone, and when I look for the name of our mysterious boy many interesting things appear”

“What are you waiting for Jason? Show it on the screen, I'm worried about little D”Dick said.

Bruce just nodded to his son, he had to be a better father to Damian from now on.

Jon, Chloe, Damian and Marin instagram appeared on the main screen of the cave. All with ridiculous names, like hellaMari, NottrollJon, QueenChloOriginal, and TheDEmon66. With too many followers to be just teenage accounts.

The only recent one was that of damian, where his photos were of him distracted, the one with Marin or the animal welfare he helped and the one he founded.

I had comments like: I would like to be you, how lucky you are, how I chose you, omg give me your life, etc ... It was very disturbing for the bati family, especially because they did not know that it was THE Damian Wayne, nor did they have his real name, they called him demon.

The evidence was refuted a year ago, with a photo in the instagram of Marin, of Damian and him facing the sun. With Damian's hair styled in a modern way, and with Marin lying on him, winking. Damian didn't even look the same even though he wasn't smiling, how happy he looked without needing to smile amazement at his family.

Thereafter, Jon and chloe began uploading photos of the group. A video especially on the NottrollJon insta convinced them to stop snooping.

Now they just had to wait for Damian to come back.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

"Since they overcame their own incompetence, I decided this would be the most effective, Marin, this is my family, my father Bruce, Grayson, Todd, and Drake. I think Alfred is in the kitchen but you already know him. Father and idiots, this is Marin my boyfriend for a year, congratulations for finding out.”

The bats definitely did not expect Damian to arrive with Marin after school, they had assumed they would have to hunt him all over the mansion. Even so, Bruce always prepared for everything with his mask, he shook Marin's hand, impressed by the height and strength of the boy.

"I'm glad you guys have finally discovered our secret" Marin smiled to the bats, making Damian grumpty.

“Wow, why are you like the sun if you date Demon Spawn?”

“Wait, did you know that he was hiding you from us?” Dick was surprised.

“Well ... I think we better start the story in the dining room, we don't want to make Alfred wait.” Damian was very pleased with his family's reactions and the fact that they were very surprised to approach Marin.

None in the family knew how to describe Marin yet. Physically, it was quite a surprise, with his big, slanted eyes, his symmetrical face, the fact that he was bigger than Jason in muscles and height, that his smile rivaled Grayson's, and that his dark blue hair was real.

But they knew very little about their attitude, tastes, or backstory. Tim's investigations had been very vague, only discovering that in reality there were not many papers about Marin because he had never been to school, or had lasted more than nine months in one place.

Then they followed the boys into the dining room, still amazed at Damian's attitude. Determined to inspect Damian's boyfriend thoroughly and decide for themselves how dangerous Marin Dupain-Cheng was. After all, if their beloved little brother liked it, it would have to have a dark side.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

As night fell, the bats could tell that Marin Dupain-Cheng did not lie to them even once. With their detective senses on edge, everyone could agree that he didn't tell a lie even once.

Which leaves them with the incredible travel anecdotes that Marin had related to them to please Damian and distract him from the accusations of his family.

It was refreshing to say the least, Marin's point of view on heroic and villainous figures, the problems of the world, the little ones, the horrible situations of the poor, the wonders of traveling. It was a drastic change to what they were used to. A vision stained brown with red and black shades, the city, the complaints and the pressure on the vigilantes or the absolute disgust for the anti-heroes or rogues.

“So you were in the scarecrow attack at the museum a year ago, and you threw your motorcycle at the guys who were shooting at you?” It was obvious that Jason had reminded him of the incident long ago, but unaware that Marin already knew their identities because of her boyfriend's butt, Jason pretended he hadn't been there.

Tim, Dick and Bruce had also been there, but they didn't see the moment that happened, so their disbelief was not acted.

"Was it because of the toxin of fear, or before you could already launch motorcycles at your whim?"Bruce spoke, seriously, what the hell did he take in the morning to make his voice so deep and strong?

Marin told Damian that it was the magic of the dark knight, but Damian dismissed it saying that after pretending so much he had stayed like this.

“Oh no, it's actually partly because I do what I can to keep fit.“Marin and Damian knew what was coming

“And the other part? "Dick asked suspiciously.

“Well that's thanks to my curse” Marin shrugged. As Damian reached for his hand under the table and all the bats leaned in his direction synchronously.

“Damn, like magic and that?”

“Yeah, when I was five, my nonna took me to the Amazon, of course she hadn't originally thought about going to the jungle, but for some reason I escaped, and ended up being swept away by a current in the river. Miraculously, I came to some kind of cave next to the rapids, where I touched something I shouldn't have touched and then the plague's curse clung to me.” Marin didn't mention that the curse came with the slim silver ring that right now was being rubbed by his boyfriend.

“So you're saying, that you have super strength because you drank from the Amazon River?“ Tim hit Jason, wondering if that white streak actually meant the death of all his neurons.

"It is more complicated than that but yes, it is actually quite similar to what you say”

Damian looks at his father, he will never admit it, but he was worried that his father did not like Marin, either because of his magic, the fact that he discovered his secret identities ... Or that his family is made up of the rogues of Gotham and other non-heroic personalities.

“He also discovered our identities a month after we started dating "Damian let out.

This time no one moved, with poker faces and saved breaths. Tim was the boldest "How ... did that happen?"

“I know Damian's butt from near, and being Robin didn't hide his butt very well.” Marin knew exactly how to break the tension, even if it means embarrassing his boyfriend a bit.

Jason and Dick started laughing seconds later, Bruce massaged his forehead, with the slightest blush on his cheeks. Tim dropped his head to the table, regretting his question, Damian just covered his blush, without looking directly at his family.

“Tt, Marin, couldn't you just tell them something else?”

“Of course not mon amour, they would know if I had lied”

After that they moved into the living room, where the fireplace was conveniently already on. The talk was postponed until it was late at night, and Marin after so many jokes with Jason and Dick had forgotten to mention that his parents would be coming to Gotham soon to meet them all.

Oh well, interesting things were definitely to come.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Damian had a good night, maybe it had to do with the fact that he shared a bed with Marin, but they had done that before, or maybe it was the fact that this was the bed where he slept only before meeting Marin. Or was it because he had finally introduced his boyfriend to his family, and they all got along wonderfully.

Naturally someone had to ruin his good mood, and to his surprise, it wasn't his brothers this time, not even bruce had that nerve. It was that annoying weakling with casuela hair and orange spots on his face who dared to affirm that he had dated Matin and had currently come to town to repair his relationship.

The rest of the Gothnamites at school seemed unconvinced of their cheap babbling in bad English, but Damian didn't give a shit what his classmates thought. The important thing was that they had learned the lesson about Marin a long time ago, and it seemed like Damian would have to break some noses to make his point again.

"Oh yeah, my Mari and I were like this in the past." He showed his intertwined fingers. "But when he had to leave France because his aunt was trapped in the Himalayas it broke my heart, now that he's in town he has been insisting that we come back, isn't that so romantic that he dragged himself along for me?"  

Lian was proud that all eyes in the hall were on him, who said that the Gothnamites were smarter was clearly an idiot.

Perhaps he did not realize that all eyes were of displeasure, weariness, and a few concerns. The skinny boy clearly didn't know what he was getting into.

Damian approached with irritation, after a quick check, decided he couldn't hit him ... as hard as he wanted. The chestnut build was too weak, and judging from the orange stains and chipped teeth, there was a more than 73 percent chance that a punch from him would send him to the hospital, and Marin had made him promise not to send more people to the hospital, to the hospital outside of school.

"Oh, so you and Marin are something?" Damian said to the chestnut, ignoring how people began to crowd with interest, while leaving space so that they did not cross with the cold words of Ice Prince, or his fists.

Lian, ignorant and malicious noticed the growing crowd, he had to do it right, or Adrianna would destroy him.

"Well… I don't really want to create any misunderstandings, especially with all the false publicity that he put on instagram, I mean, Marin didn't know a better way to get my attention, so he ended up hiring that model to fake a relationship for Internet." The crowd gasped, that boy would end up knocked out.

"Woah, everything that has come out of your mouth is nothing but shit, and I've only had the misfortune to meet you for a minute."Damian spoke. “So I will tell you something flimsy rat, Marin has never had something with you nor will he, he is a man of good taste, he has class and high standards that you will never can fill in your miserable excuse for life. So you better shut your mouth full of shit before I kick your ass and those horrible orange stains you have.”

The students smiled, that bastard would finally shut his mouth in the best way, oh, and sunshine prince did not look close, there was a great possibility of punches.

Lian did not know what was the best way to react, that guy was scary, damn, he was surely the thug, the safest thing was to play the scary victim, anyway he was too scared to act angry.

"Oh, maybe you are one of the people who is in love with Marin, I can't blame you, my boyfriend is charming that everywhere he go he get a ... admirers entourage, it is understandable that you are angry but there is no need to do great matter about it.”

Damian was about to reply with his usual cold and dark aura, when his boyfriend entered the crowd. 

Lian, or actually Lila, cringed at the sudden appearance of Marin, she / he thought it would keep her record of being late to school and give her time to manipulate the sheep.

“Stop your pathetic act Rossi, the French in our old school may be a ball of idiots, but in Gotham things are very different.”

Ah, Marin. It could be called sunshine prince and boy did it fit him. You can be in his graces and be lucky to have a ray of sunshine to light up your days, or you could be an idiot without self-preservation and die from sunburn.

Lian tried to regain command, wild was going to kill her, she had not been in the city for five days and had already been discovered.

“Oh, Marin darling, you don't have to protect me from the media anymore, you can stop pretending.”

He tried to get closer, but damian slapped his hand against the lockers before he could touch him. Lian did not hesitate to exaggerate and throw himself against the lockers. "Agh, this brute just attacked me! Separate him from me!"

No one moved, sharing the feeling of shame that apparently the skinny did not have.

Marin decided to speak. "Let it be known, that I am not associated in any way with this cheap and lying bitch. Anything that comes out of her mouth is more false than the pyrite. I hope I don't see you again Rossi"

When Lian was about to throw herself at Marin's feet, Damian stopped him, putting his brand name shoe on her chest.

“Don't even try you bastard, he's my boyfriend. And you can't touch what's mine, bitch.”

When the order of the hierarchy was restored, with Damian and Marin walking hand in hand the students lost interest, and left quickly. Completely forgetting the sulfuric chestnut on the ground.

Lila Rossi was so fucked up, and the Agrestes still didn't know.

At a spa across town, Chloe had a feeling. And in a room a few doors from where Rossi Jon was, he also felt it.

[tracybirds]

Don’t talk to me about timelines XD lockdown 3.0 was an unpleasant surprise but it did give me some fun fodder to play with. Missing from this were the stream of Valentines to Covid that spread around my section of NZ social media XD I was tempted to make Scott write some, but alas it didn’t fit. Obviously plenty has been fudged, it’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and more allows me to collect together some of the mixed emotions of getting a five hour countdown to lockdown D: That was not fun lol like far out, and we had to prepped for remote learning by 9am the next day. Scott is not allowed to complain further in his swanky apartment and no job XDD

In all seriousness, this is Scott’s story for FabFiveFeb2021, hosted by the ever lovely @gumnut-logic (Happy Birthday! still the right day in Aus, I didn’t miss it right :0 either way *hugs*** and I hope it was a nice day :DD)

Prompt used was “Are you kidding?” - it really resonated on Sunday evening ahaha (okay I will stop rambling in my defense it’s post midnight and I have feverishly pummelled this out in a couple of hours, it had been itching at me all day.... I missed that feeling :DDD)

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

Scott was International Rescue through and through, but in the murky waters of the central business district, he thrived.

It was a closed meeting, stretching into the long shadowy hours of the evening. Legal advisors quibbled over clauses while Scott exchanged pleasantries with the company representatives, talking up his local ties to New Zealand’s City of Sails.

“My Dad taught me to sail, right out there in the harbour, you know.”

A casual remark but carefully designed to make himself seem approachable and down-to-earth, just another “one of the guys”. His associate had also sailed once, a national representative in his youth, although time and his new habit of lunch meetings had left those days long in the past.

Personal connections made more money than the lawyers in the background ever could, and Scott prided himself on the homegrown touch.

“Mine too,” said the jovial, middle aged man. “Although I reckon it wasn’t near as pretty a yacht as yours. I’ve read up on you as well, you know.”

Scott laughed, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Len, I knew we’d get on. What do you say to dinner? This has been going on for far too long.”

“I know a great place that keeps a table reserved for me. Even on Valentine’s.”

“I’m flattered.” He nodded to Van Zyl briefly before addressing the small crowd.

“Ladies, gentlemen. You’ve done some good work, and it’s been a long one. We’ll leave it here for the night and reconfer in the morning.”

He acknowledged the tired smiles and leaned back and listened as the chatter evolved from the dry intricacies of patent law into cheery conversation of dinner plans and family time ahead.

He turned and looked out at the city, lights starting to turn on in the early evening light. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so and he wanted to make the most of what they had left in the day.

So did the rest of the Auckland population it seemed. Cars were flooding into the area, people starting to stream into office buildings.

“So, Federal Street?”

“Len, what’s going on down there?” he asked, jabbing a finger down at the street below.

“Sorry?”

He and Len watched, dumbfounded as the office buildings lit up one by one, lights turning on and off again mere minutes later.

“Mr Tracy! Mr Van Zyl!”

“Charlotte, what is it? What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, I mean, Mr Tracy, sorry sir.”

“Charlotte. Take a breath,” commanded Scott, letting the authority of Thunderbird One bleed into his voice. “Tell us what’s happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, her hand creeping up over her mouth. She handed him her tablet.

“It’s a civil defence lockdown, effective midnight.”

A cold dread crept up Scott’s spine.

“Tonight?!”

Len pulled out a comm beside him and started dialling. The person on the other end picked up at the first ring, and dimly Scott could hear her calm, measured voice transmitted through the device.

“Can I help?” he asked, still staring at the stark words on the page.

“I… uh... help? Sir?”

“With the civil defence response, with the company, I don’t know!” He looked up, desperation in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”

Charlotte shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Mr Tracy, we have an isolation response in place, at your father’s request. Leave the board to organise the company, you need to get home and…”

“No.”

Charlotte’s voice pitched up a near octave.

“Sir, I must insist…”

“There are lockdown protocols on the island as well,” snapped Scott. “I can’t just go home, risk my family, my Grandma.”

She shook her head again.

“You can’t help here. They’ve done it before. It’s Level Three, people will be able to collect gear tomorrow if needed, we’re set up for remote offices and the last thing people need is you dilly-dallying in the top office.”

A loud shrieking alarm pierced through her final words and Scott flinched at the sound.

Len yelped next to him, dropping his comm with a curse.

“Damn emergency alerts, don’t they know the whole country has heard by now? Why do they just SHUT UP!” he bellowed at the still beeping comm. “It’s so unnecessary, the first time we went under, I thought we were about to evacuate for a volcanic eruption. Staying home, it’s hardly an emergency.”

Charlotte did little to hide her scorn, but Scott smothered a smile as he read through the full message.

“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “I can bunker down at the apartment for a few days.”

“Weeks, I’d be prepping for,” interrupted Len. “Hard to say of course, but they keep extending them.”

“You know why we do it,” said Charlotte, coolly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to pretend it’s a holiday like everyone else seems to do.”

“Well, there never was any rest for the wicked, they say,” quipped Scott.

Len barked a sudden laugh.

“You’re alright, Tracy. Shame about how this ended, I’d have liked a bite with you.”

“Well, there’s always next time. Maybe we’ll find time for a shared celebration after all this.”

“My treat, Tracy, my treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care now.”

Scott nodded a farewell and turned back to Charlotte.

“You’re going to be fine?”

“I’ll go stay with my Mum,” she said, easily. “She doesn’t like to be in her house alone, and I can’t say I blame her. Holotech’s just not the same as being there, you know?”

“I certainly do,” said Scott, thinking of his brothers, hundreds of kilometres away. “Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck, Scott.”

***

The downtown apartment was a mere fifteen minute walk from Tracy Tower, but with Charlotte’s words echoing in the back of his mind, the thought of potentially weeks stuck in an incredibly well furnished, yet incredibly unstocked apartment plaguing him, he opted to swing past the local supermarket. Located at the heart of the city, it was never quiet at the best of times but this was unlike anything Scott had ever seen.

The tension in the packed shop was thick as the throng that filled it. Over half the customers were already wearing masks, glaring suspiciously at those who had gone without and Scott self-consciously tugged his rain jacket higher.

Essentials, he thought wildly, just eggs and milk and bread and….

There was no bread. No flour either and the confectionary aisle was already looking sparse. He grabbed a few chocolate bars and threw them in the basket.

“Excuse me,” he said, waving down a frantic and wild-eyed shop assistant. “Do you have any bread out back?”

“No way man, haven’t you heard? Lockdown hits in like three hours, people are going mental.”

“But I don’t have any food at home, I was meant to be flying back tomorrow morning.”

The shop assistant, Ariki as his name badge proclaimed him, grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s hard luck that is. You don’t live in Auckland?”

“No, I don’t. But I won’t be able to get home now either.”

He nodded, like he’d heard it before.

“You’re thinking this is like last year, aren’t you?”

“I, uh, yes.”

“Right,” said Ariki, still nodding along with him. “Right, well it’s not quite the same so don’t stress out. Look, you can still get takeaways this time, we’ll be restocked tomorrow and all the real crazies–” he nodded towards a pair who were arguing over what looked like the last can of baked beans, “–yeah, they’ll be tucked up at home, refusing to take a step outside, it’ll be sweet as.”

Scott stared at him, then looked over at the line snaking through the frozen food aisle, between the meat and dairy and coiling up in the sad looking and so-called fresh produce.

The two chocolate bars and eggs he’s managed to grab hardly seemed worth it at all.

“I can put those back if you want.”

“Yeah,” said Scott, dazedly. “Yeah, thanks that’s be great.”

Ariki smirked a little.

“We’re reopening at seven, yeah? I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks again,” called Scott as he hurried from the shop.

The rain that had been threatening its arrival all weekend was starting to appear, and Scott hurried home, ducking his head down and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there’d be enough food for at least his dinner tonight and Ariki was right, he could sort the rest in the morning.

A swipe of his keycard, and he shut out the world with a muffled slam of the door and a sigh.

He shucked off his rain jacket, not bothering to hang it up, and trudged into the kitchen. It wasn’t like there’d be anyone around to complain for a while and he was starving. Lunch, the little afternoon tea nibbles they’d provided, even his last coffee felt like it had been drunken in another life.

Dinner, then finally he’d call home.

He didn’t doubt they already knew what was happening, was probably wondering why he hadn’t called, but none of them had even been swept up in the chaos of lockdown preparations.

He stared blankly in front of the fridge, the cold, bluish light illuminating him in the dark room. The sun had fully set by now, and the last vestiges of twilight had given way to the true, deep night with the onset of rainfall.

His carefully defrosting steak wasn’t on the shelf, and he looked around him in confusion, wondering if he’d accidentally left the meat out on the bench. He was hungry enough that he didn’t think he’d care and his stomach was well practiced at digesting the indigestible, bug and all.

On the kitchen counter was a neat pile: a plate, used utensils and cooking equipment all stacked together, waiting to be washed.

Scott blinked.

“Oh, hey, Scott,” called Gordon’s cheerful voice from behind him.

Scott whirled around, gaping at his younger brother, suddenly in their New Zealand apartment and not where he ought to have been – namely a thousand odd kilometres north east of the kitchen they were standing in.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You,” Scott shouted, jabbing a finger towards Gordon. “You ate my dinner!”

“Oh, crap.”

Gordon bolted a split second before Scott charged at him, yelling wildly with all his might.

“Scott, I’m sorry, it was – shit, I mean – come on, it was past nine, I thought you’d been out, and I, oh damn, I, Scott, damn it, I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t care, you ate my food, have you seen the grocery stores? It’s absolute chaos, you traitor, you can go out and get me something, put some pants on and move.”

Gordon yelped as he dove over the couch.

“Okay, I can see there’s been some errors in judgement here,” said Gordon, panting. “I’m sorry, Scott, I really am.”

Scott glared.

“Not good enough.” He paused, eyeing Gordon as he cowered behind the sofa. “What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Here. What are you doing in Auckland?”

“Happy birthday to me too, love you bro, congrats on surviving another year.”

“You came to Auckland for your birthday?”

“Yeah.” Gordon sat up cautiously. “Couldn’t exactly see Penny, and it’s not like there’s many other places that will let us in.”

“I thought we counted as a US territory.”

“John cleared it with someone, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to be stuck at home for my birthday. And look how that turned out.”

He did look extraordinarily sorry for himself.

Scott sighed, and reached out a hand.

“Go get some damn pants on,” he grumbled. “And go look for Virgil’s emergency snacks, I know he stores them everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare come back unless you bring me food.”

Gordon snorted.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to provoke the wrath of a starving Scooter.”

Scott jerked his body towards Gordon, and smirked as he bolted up the stairs towards the bedrooms, before sinking down into the cushions and closing his eyes.

The comm beeped gently, a stark contrast from the blaring alert from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, opening an eye as Virgil was projected in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not–”

“Oh, I am.”

“Gordon too?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were both quiet for few seconds, thinking about how rapidly the world had seemed to shift around them.

“I suppose it’s only for a few days,” began Virgil, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“We gotta do the full two weeks. After that, we ought to be able to clear an exit with the harbourmaster and the coast guard, even if it’s not over, but we can’t come back earlier. The only reason we could move freely before without our helmets is because–”

“Preaching to the choir, Scott. I get it.”

“You gonna be alright without us?”

Virgil shrugged. “Rescues are down what with more people staying at home. Alan and I can handle the small change, and Kayo’s been itching for some POD practice recently. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re the one stuck with Gordon.”

“Hey!”

“Food,” growled Scott and Gordon threw a muesli bar and a tube of M&Ms at him.

“Is that mine?”

“Gordon ate my dinner and the shops were out of everything,” grumbled Scott. “Blame him.”

“It’s my birthday, I don’t deserve this.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alright, don’t kill each other before the two weeks is up. John’s already organised a betting pool, don’t give him the satisfaction of winning again, he’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh, he’s on,” said Gordon, grinning. “Tell him I put fifty bucks on Scott tipping me out of bed or off the couch by the end of the week.”

“Got it.”

“You can’t bet against us,” said Scott, mumbling around the chocolate. “I thought you were on my side.”

“You tried to murder me over a steak.”

“The jury would have never convicted.”

“Okay, I can see you two are going to have a fun time,” said Virgil, loudly over their bickering. “See you in two weeks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, two weeks was a smidge outside even his patience.

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 45

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Fluff, fun, feels, drinking, angst, Might Gai (that’s a warning in it’s own but not a lot of him, sorry). A/N: I’m not back on full power yet, so please be patient for a while longer. However! Things ARE going better (not quite enough to proof read, though). ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3

Ch. 45

Things were simpler a year ago, Kakashi decides. He has already picked up on the movement of the near-undetectable approaching man and the white-haired ninja’s first instinct is to want to slip away before he’s discovered. It’s been a long time, though, since he’s indulged in the odd friendship.

Ignoring time needed to sleep, 50% of Kakashi's time is spent either training or doing missions with Team 7, 20% or so are his own missions and another 20% an attempt at spending quality time with Uguïsu or working on the house – he’s gotten to the point of furnishing the place now and is quite pleased with the results so far. Right now, he’d stolen a rare moment leaded against his favourite tree in quiet contemplation of his favourite novel.

“HaHA!” Gai lands in a perfect combat pose, the tactical vest unable to cover the taught, green fabric beneath. “Finally our paths have crossed, eternal rival!”

Unfazed, Kakashi nods. “It seems so.”

For a while, none of the men speak as each pretend to be fully engrossed in reading or stretching. Well, the physical exercises are performed to perfection but much like before the interruption not a leaf is turned in the book and eventually it catches Gai’s attention.

“What troubles you? Are you afraid my wondrous team will defeat yours?”

Hyuga Neji will be a problem. “I admit that your team has its strengths but thankfully that’s not my problem just now.”

Getting to his feet, the captain of Team 7 turns towards the village while tugging the book away in a pocket – it’s the same pocket where a thin, circular instrument rests at the moment. He’s torn between heading back to the house to get some gardening done (not a task he’s used to doing in his free time) or stopping by a certain woman’s apartment again in the hopes that she’s returned.

“No! Not a word, dear friend.” Gai’s hand is warm and strong as it misses Kakashi’s shoulder by a few centimetres. “I recognize your agony. Oh, true love! The noblest of torments during the springtime of our youth!”

Kakashi bites back a groan. “I’m not agonizing and -”

“Don’t be shy, Hatake,” the friend insists. “We all know she turned down your proposal, but don’t worry because I will help you win the fair maiden’s heart!”

“Pro-? I didn’t propose!”

“Ah-ah! Here’s what you do...”

...

At some point during Gai’s lessons about gifts, walks during sunsets and the magic of starry nights, Asuma and Iruka had joined them and moved the conversation from the street to a gloomy bar. A variety of sake had been had until the Academy teacher had dozed off in the corner of the booth, snoring lightly in unison with Gai.

“I’m juss saying,” Asuma tries to explain stubbornly, “that however daunting it might sheem now...it’sh gonna be worth it.”

I know. The problem isn’t to convince me. But rather than point that out (again), Kakashi slips an arm around his team’s former teacher. “It’s getting late, Asu...let’s get these guys home.”

Gai stirs as he too is being manhandled outside like a sack of rice slung over the back. “Weeee...” the mumble fades out for a moment, “we-we-we’ll...tell her!”

“Please don’t.” Just the thought makes Kakashi’s cheeks burn hotter than the alcohol had achieved. “You just get home now and forget about all of this.”

By the time those too drunk for their own good are safely home and Kakashi unlocks the door to his little apartment, the stars are starting to fade in the horizon. It’s been a much longer night than anticipated...not to mention that it’s been spent in different company too.

Because of that, he’s happy to feel the breeze rush past his toes as he enters and closes the door. It tugs softly in his hair with invisible fingers of cotton that are capable of brushing away any worries.

“Hey there,” he whispers, knowing that Uguïsu will hear him, “missed me so much you had to come find me?”

Corporeal hands reach around to pull him close – chest to back, and her nose nudging the offending layers of black cloth away from his neck until there’s room to place a kiss.

“Mmmmaybe.” The smile is a teasing brush against the little while hairs. “Smells like you weren’t suffering alone.”

Managing to turn, he gets distracted for a moment and has to kiss the blue hair. “Not alone...but still suffering.”

“Liar.”

“I really did miss you.”

Big eyes find his before the woman shifts her attention to his gear. Kakashi has been wearing it all day, so he doesn’t object but helps as she unzips the vest. Layer by layer falls away until he’s wearing just underwear and all of his scars are clearly visible like red or white ridges and lines that barely react when Uguïsu’s fingertips trace them and set off waves of goosebumps.

“Why does it only feel okay, when you’re around, ‘Kashi?”

Not sure that he has heard the whispered question correctly, the jonin catches her chin with a finger and tilts her face up. “What do you mean?”

She snakes free of his loose hold. “It’s...” she bites her lip while searching for the words, “I like my place. And I like this place. But...only when you’re there too. It’s a bit better here because it smells of you, though.” Catching a strand of blue, she begins to wrap it around one of her fingers and Kakashi recognizes it as a sign of nervousness. “Prob-probably me being weird, I guess, and that why -” now, even her toes are digging into the floor as if she’s trying to dig a way out that way -”I’ve been..kinda...just sometimes...when you’re not here...”

The voice that normally holds the confidence of a songbird has dwindled and is barely audible anymore. Whatever it is...this is big. Gently, Kakashi guides the wreck of a girl over to the bed and sits with her. Waiting. Waiting for whatever it is she’s trying to understand.

Outside, the horizon basks in colours of red and orange as the morning tries to chase the night away but the world itself is still greys and the birds haven’t woken up yet.

But my Nightingale is going to pass out unless she breathes calmly, soon. “Sweetheart,” he catches Uguïsu's attention, “breathe. Whatever it is, I’m there for you.”

She does as he asks, releasing a shaky breath at the feeling of her lungs filling. Or maybe the situation. “But when you’re not...I’d like to live somewhere that reminds me of you. All of you.” Fumbling a bit, she manages to free the finger from the tangle to grab his hands. “I’ve been sneaking into your house. Sleeping there for a few hours.”

Stunned into silence, Kakashi listens to her confession of how it makes her feel safe because it’s like some of him is part of the building – whether it be his past that haunts the place or the knowledge of the work he’s putting into restoring it.

“What I’m trying to say is...it...” she gestures at nothing, “it feels like...”

“Home,” he gasps.

The smile is enough to prove him right...but not quite: “You feel like home.”

[franstastic-ideas]

Present Day, Present Time

Undertale - A few months after the barrier is broken, on Christmas day, Frisk gifts Sans with the Reset button as a sign of trust and goodwill between them, telling him it’s his now: to use, to keep, or to destroy. It’s his power now. It may be the best gift Sans has ever received. Sans finally feels like he can move forward.

And he can feel in his SOUL that he wants to move forward with Frisk.

Word Count: 20,603

@nuvex Surprise! I was your Secret Santa for the Gyftmas event! I’n so, so, SO sorry about the long, loooooong, delay! *hysterical sobbing*

Also, this counts as the season prompt for Fransweek, doesn’t it?

Credits for OCs go to @koiikun for Peter and Charlotte, @semisolidmind for Irene, Edgar and Elizabeth, @undertalepre2re for Daddy Longlegs, @eddieveneziano for Spinerette, and @lostmypotatoes for Ku-Mo

Webber and Julian belong to me.

Even prior to the breaking of the barrier, there were an immense number of things that Frisk wanted to experience alongside her monster friends after reaching the surface.

 Going on picnics in the spring, trips to the beach during the summer, jumping in piles of leaves when autumn arrived, and playing in the snow when winter came, organizing ladies’ nights and sleepovers with the girls, celebrating one another’s birthdays...

 But what she looked forward to most was spending Gyftmas with them.

 As it turned out, the monsters celebrated their own wintertime holiday comparable to the surface world’s Christmas, or Hanukkah, or sometimes Kwanza. She had learned of this during her stay in Snowdin Town, a little village located in the snowy section of the Underground that was decorated as though the inhabitants celebrated Gyftmas every day. It was just September when she had first traversed into the town, but all the preparations for the occasion had already been made, completed by a towering tree adorned with an assortment of ornaments that served as the location’s centerpiece, along with plentiful piles of presents lying underneath bearing tags with the names of all the monsters who lived there.

 She supposed even monsterkind wasn’t immune to the widespread seasonal phenomenon commonly referred to as ‘the Christmas creep’.

 Frisk had fallen victim to it as well. The very instant that Sans, Papyrus, and then Undyne, followed by the rest of her new pals did the jimpity jumpity joodle, the limpity loppity leap (as her fishy friend would say) directly into her heart, her mind instantly began to drift towards thoughts of what she was going to give each of them when the month of December arrived. Though she certainly didn’t have much concerning funds at the time, Frisk was still a generous person by nature – there was little that made her happier than watching the expression of wonder and then delight that crossed the recipient’s face as they unwrapped and unboxed their gift.

 Surface or no surface, Frisk was determined to spend the holiday season with her friends, even if it meant plunging into the depths of the Underground a second time with a fully loaded sack of presents slung over her shoulder to do so. Thankfully, it never came to that – with the assistance of Prince Asriel, the six SOULs of the previous fallen humans, and the added SOULS of every single monster in the Underground, the barrier was finally broken for good, so she and everyone else could reach the surface and get to celebrate their first Gyftmas above ground.

 Yes, even Flowey – as much as he denied it, she knew that much of Asriel was still hiding behind the sour personality of that foul flower.

 She wasn’t about to let one rotten apple hinder her or himself from enjoying a slice of the warm apple pie that was the wholesome found-family Gyftmas gathering she was doing her best to serve everyone.

 Sans hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the idea of him partaking in the festivities, even though Frisk had thought that he shouldn’t even remember who Flowey was. She supposed that the negative impressions Flowey left on him in the RESETs of the past, prior to her gaining the power to turn back time from her floral friend, had somehow left a permanent imprint on the skeleton; similar to how Toriel inexplicably recalled that she preferred cinnamon over butterscotch, along with a plethora of other phantom memories the monsters she closely interacted with experienced throughout the courses of her subterranean adventure.

 Flowey had been extremely reluctant to leave his previous spot in the empty Underground. He had stayed behind by choice, after all. However, the frequent offers she made during her continuous visits eventually wore him down, and he said he would go with her under one stipulation – that his true identity remained a secret between the two of them. She agreed to his terms, and Flowey allowed her to take him to the surface to join the rest of her companions – he even willingly climbed into the flowerpot she bought and brought just for him!

 Frisk and Toriel shared dual custody of him - the kind goat lady apparently saw the good inside him that he so desperately tried to pretend didn’t exist, and decided to welcome him into her home whenever he wished to visit. Flowey unexpectedly took her up on the invitation, showing minimal resistance to the idea before accepting. Perhaps he missed his mother more than he initially thought.

 This is what Frisk believed, and not without good reason. One Sunday afternoon just a few weeks ago, the queen of monsters invited the two over for tea and cookies. Everything had been relatively peaceful, nothing out of the ordinary – all until Toriel had wordlessly placed another one of the sweets on Flowey’s plate, unprompted.

 The words ‘Thank you, mama’ had instinctively escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Toriel was touched at hearing that, no matter how accidental it may have been, feeling as though the usually bad-tempered little flower had finally warmed up to her.

 But for him, it was excruciatingly painful. He was dead silent for the rest of the time spent in her company and swiftly requested to go home with Frisk once they finished their snacks. The sweet goat lady saw nothing wrong with his behavior, simply assuming that his little slip of the tongue had embarrassed him.

 In actuality, the very instant Frisk stepped into her own home and locked the door behind them, Flowey had burst into a hysterical fit of tears, sobbing as he whispered ‘mama’ under his breath, over and over again before crying out, ‘I miss my mama!’.

 After he had calmed down considerably, Frisk never once leaving his side the whole while, he once again asserted that he wasn’t going to tell Toriel or Asgore the truth. However, Flowey then said afterwards that, perhaps one day, he may. Just not now. He wasn’t ready yet, and he doubted they were either.

 Frisk had been nothing but supportive, assuring Flowey that it was fine for him to take as long as he needed in sorting out his feelings towards the matter, to which he again stated as he so often had in the past that he had no feelings left anymore. That was a lie. A lie that the both of them obviously knew wasn’t true.

 Someone with no emotions inside them wouldn’t show visible delight when biting into homemade cookies and pie, nor would they shriek with blatant terror when startled by a cheap jumpscare tactic in a poorly made horror flick during movie night every other Friday, or display signs of what could only be described as intense jealousy when their best and only friend is constantly being ‘stolen away’, from their perspective, by a lazy, ketchup-chugging, pun-spewing bag of bones.

 Someone with nothing left to feel wouldn’t wail for his mother during a rare moment of vulnerability.

 Frisk wholeheartedly enjoyed each and every second she spent in Flowey’s presence, much to the actually rather understandable perplexity of some of her other friends. She could state countless reasons as to why she would feel this way, but one of them was; hearing the sound of his voice made this big house of hers feel less empty.

 Several weeks after gaining the official position of ambassador of monsterkind, Frisk had woken up to the unexpected surprise of receiving an expensive estate in a basically brand-new neighborhood. It was undoubtedly worth thousands, maybe even millions, and just staring at it made her feel as though she were glimpsing into a luxurious world she didn’t and never would belong in. She wanted to gently decline the deed, feeling as though she did nothing to deserve it, but as if anticipating this sort of response, the agent who escorted her to the place informed her that the fully-furnished house and the plot of land it stood on was meant to be a gift; purchased with the gold of not only the king and queen, but the funds of each and every single freed monster. They had unanimously come to the agreement to band together in a collective effort to provide her a better home than the one she had lived in prior.

 To turn down such a thoughtful gesture after so much preparation had gone into even making it possible, such a thing would have been incomparably rude to do.

 A few months later, and Frisk was still unsure of how they learned of her whereabouts, a dingy old apartment building several towns over located directly in the middle of an unsafe precinct where robberies and other crimes were regularly reported. But someone had discovered her secret, despite her dedicated efforts at dodging their numerous questions concerning the subject.

 There had been a few occasions back then where, when returning from one of her hangouts with her monster friends, Frisk felt a similar sensation to being followed. She never did catch a glance at her pursuer during those times, but she supposed it didn’t really matter – not once did she ever feel as though she were in any danger when sensing the presence of this other person. Quite the opposite, in fact, as utterly insane as she knew it may have sounded.

 Frisk chose not to mention the fact that she may or may not have been dealing with a mysterious stalker to her friends, since she had already worried them enough when they found out where she lived. What followed came countless offers for her to stay the night or even a few days in one of their residences, to which she always attempted to decline, not wanting to impose on her friends. But some of them, like Undyne, Toriel, Muffet, and unpredictably Sans, of all monsters, would not take ‘no’ for an answer. All of them felt as though they could finally put their fears to rest when she stepped out of that building that looked as though it were falling apart at the seams for the last time, and into her safe and cozy new home they had so lovingly furnished for the first.

 Sans had surprisingly been the one to accompany her then, assisting her in gathering up what little belongings she owned to transport them to the house awaiting her. The reason why it had shocked her so much at the time was, the smiley skeleton was well renown as having a laid-back, lax nature; or as Undyne, his brother, and several regulars at Grillby’s would word it – lazy.

 But that day, something about the skeleton she thought she knew was deadly serious. His expression seemed to frequently bounce between anticipation and dread, happily helping her with shoving clothes and other accessories into suitcases while also glancing around the area every few minutes with a chilling glare, as if daring some unseen enemy to reveal themselves to him. Even he had breathed a sigh of relief that day, once the task was done and over with.

 And not long after that, Sans and Papyrus had managed to acquire an abode of their own as well – directly next to hers.

 She had thought that with a vast new world to explore, all the monsters she had met and come to know would have eventually scattered across the globe as soon as the opportunity arose. And some of them did, but not any of her closest friends she had made on her adventure - they had decided to take up residence in this town, not ten miles away from the mountain they were imprisoned within. And even the ones that went elsewhere would eventually wander back on occasion, if only to say ‘hello’.

 It didn’t make much sense to her, but when Frisk finally summoned the nerve to ask, all of them gave her the exact same answer,

 “We just wanted to be close to you.”

 And this claim of theirs must have been true, because when the time came for her to send out the Gyftmas party invitations, every single monster responded with a guarantee in some manner or another that they would be there.

 But could she actually manage to squeeze the entirety of the monster population and then some under one roof, specifically hers?

 Frisk was about to find out.

 Some of them jokingly warned her when they discovered just how long the guest list was supposed to be that she was definitely going to regret this, that a celebration this grand scale was bound to bring the house down in the most literal definition imaginable (thanks, Sans). She held no doubts that the party was going to be chaotic, but she sincerely believed that what was to come would be a chaos of the beautiful sort.

 This being proven to be correct was all that she really wanted for Gyftmas.

 Even after telling them this, they were still going well out of their way to get her some sort of present for the festivity. Frisk believed the lavish house was enough to compensate for every single Gyftmas, birthday, and any other holiday that would come to pass for the remainder of her life, but no, the monsters demonstrated they could be just as determined as she was when it came to expressing their gratitude towards her for everything the human girl had done for them, in and out of the Underground.

 Apparently, Undyne and Mettaton were even going so far as making some sort of competition out of who could give Frisk the best gift, and it was also apparently growing more and more intense between them each day as the date of the party approached. She hoped they didn’t expect her to play the role of judge in this silly contest of theirs, because she couldn’t possibly do that, ever – Frisk was certain that she would love both their gifts with equal enthusiasm. She additionally hoped they hadn’t gone overboard with the holiday shopping in their quest of earning her approval, because the two were well known to be mercilessly competitive and had a history of overspending according to their own friends and relatives.

 Mettaton may be able to flaunt and throw around all the wealth that came from being a sensational star whenever he pleases, but that still doesn’t mean that he should, and Frisk felt that Undyne really needed to start investing her earnings in an emergency fund of some sort, because she’s already almost burned her house to a crisp while cooking a grand total of eight times since finding a place to live on the surface.

 She’s going to need that money when the time eventually comes that Undyne does reduce it down to nothing more than smoking splinters and the very foundation it stands upon in one gigantic fiery explosion, and it was becoming more and more clear to Frisk that the fish woman’s house regularly being engulfed in flames was just one of those inevitable aspects of life that refused to change, in spite of her attempts...

 That’s why after the second time it happened, Frisk jumped for getting the local and friendly fire department’s number on speed dial on both their phones. Undyne and the entire force were practically on a first name basis with each other at this point.

 But Undyne refrained from ever cooking at other people’s houses, even when it was requested of her by some incredibly brave or very foolish SOUL with nothing to lose; she only did so at her own. That’s probably what upset Frisk the most – she was actively aware that her ventures in the culinary world were deadly in dual senses, and yet that didn’t seem to stop her in the slightest when it came to pursuing her passion. Frisk supposed there was something admirable to be found in that, somewhere...

 And while it appeared that Undyne’s skills in the kitchen were getting worse and worse, Papyrus’s were only getting better, even without any comparison needed.

 He improved so much, in fact, that Frisk asked him if he would like to be one of the head chefs in providing catering for her guests at the upcoming party, alongside Grillby, Muffet, and Toriel. He gratefully accepted the position with tears flowing from his sockets like geysers, picking her up in one swift motion and swinging her around and around until it nearly made her stomach turn. He promised her that this would be the best Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had, to which she reminded him that this would be the first Gyftmas dinner she’s ever had. If anything, this only spurred Papyrus to put even more passion into his own culinary studies, so his cuisines would be guaranteed to leave a good impression on her human taste buds.

 Gyftmas, Christmas – though the two holidays were relatively the same in spirit, what Frisk had told him was not lacking in truth...

 Even long before the date of their wintertime gathering, there was still plenty to do. She began her search for gifts almost as soon as the barrier had been broken, but the preparations for the gradually approaching party had commenced as briskly as the day after Halloween. Of course, there was also Thanksgiving to think about then; they came together at that time as well, at Toriel’s house, but the number of those attending had been much smaller than the total count that was to be present at Frisk’s party, since many monsters had chosen to celebrate the occasion with their respective families.

 That was why the sheer amount of replies that she received in respondence to the invitations astounded her as much as it did.

 But when the 25th finally came, Frisk couldn’t have been more pleased by the nothing short of massive turnout.

 The guests began arriving as early as seven in the morning. The event didn’t even officially start until nine, but some of them had showed up early because they wanted an opportunity to talk with their beloved ambassador a bit before the celebration became too crowded and hectic to anymore.

 She had woken up a few minutes after six that morning for some last-minute arrangements when Frisk spotted a familiar round skeletal face in the window of the house immediately across from her own. Hers and Sans’s bedrooms faced one another, the space between them not ten feet apart, and the two had carried out entire conversations from their respective windowsills before – fairly often, in truth.

 Such a conversation occurred on the dawn of that special snowy morning, surprisingly. Frisk would have been willing to bet that she wouldn’t be seeing him around until after the start of the party a few hours later.

 He grinned and tapped on the surface of the frosted and fogged over glass in swift succession with a single phalange before opening his window, silently urging her to do the same with her own. She did so, a gust of cool wintery air flowing into the room, and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

 “You’re up unexpectedly early today.”

 “paps got me up and out of bed as soon as he realized the hours were in the a.m. and the date had changed.” Sans yawned, just barely managing to cover his mouth, then added, “and that was almost a few minutes after midnight, but about a whole gallon of warm milk later, and i got him to go back to sleep. honestly, that was probably the real gyftmas miracle – as beat as paps was, he denied it to the bitter end and tried to fight off the sleepies to his last ‘nyeh’.”

 “That definitely sounds like something he would do.” The mental image of Papyrus suddenly yanking the shorter skeleton off his mattress and dragging Sans behind him down the stairs to the living room in the middle of the night was worth a chuckle, as exhausted as she knew Sans must be right now. “Was he trying to catch a peep at ‘Santa’ in action? Or should I say, ‘Sansta’?”

 “nah. he hasn’t tried to capture santa since we were pretty much babybones.” He gave a sleepy chuckle.

 “...Capture? ...Santa?” She uttered inquisitively with an arched eyebrow, but he didn’t provide her with any more details on that bizarre little response.

 “gyftmas eve is the one night a year that paps makes an honest effort to go to bed early and get some real sleep, ‘cause he’s worried that santa will pass our house up if he doesn’t. but his excitement, his insomnia, and the anxiety over what he thinks will happen if he isn’t sleeping ironically keeps him awake. we go through this every year. i already mentioned the milk, but it took a whole pile and a few hours of bedtime stories to knock him out this one, though.”

 “You’re probably already aware of this, Sans, but... you look really tired.” The dark circles under his sockets were a few shades darker, more prominent than usual, and as she said this, another long, deep yawn escaped his gaping maw. “You know, you could go back to bed and get some sleep yourself and just show up a while later, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t be disappointed with you if you decided to do that, really.”

 “nah, nah. don’t worry about it. i’ll be fine, just fine, kid. the both of us ‘ll be there when we’re supposed to. actually, expect to see us at least half an hour earlier, since you know how paps likes to show up anywhere he goes fashionably ahead of time. my bro’s such a trendsetter... he’s light years ahead of the rest of us.” He waved off her concerns with a grin that appeared far happier and less weary than it probably should, but was unexpectedly followed by a pensive frown.

 Sans grew silent and remained so for several passing moments; so silent that it began to make Frisk feel uncomfortable.

 He always made a point of looking at the person he was speaking to, but he wasn’t doing that now. His attention wasn’t on her anymore – it was on practically everything but her, and that worrying little frown on his face only heightened the sense of concern that was washing over Frisk in waves after seeing it.

 “...Sans? Is something wrong...?” She asked, a twinge of distress discernible in her quiet tone of voice.

 She had to repeat herself twice before he would answer her.

 “it’s just... about the party...” His front teeth gnawed on the bottom of his mouth, seeming only more perturbed as the seconds slowly passed by before another grin, wide and gleeful, almost to the extent of being manic, broke across his skull just as suddenly as the grimace had.

 “i was just thinking about how loooong the drive’s gonna be to get there... it’ll be so long, i might actually get a full nine hours sleep on the way there.” He accomplished getting through the first two sentences with only a few snorts interspersed into his speech, but he was really struggling not to laugh through the second half - and by the tail end of the third sentence, he was failing miserably. “i mean, i think you have the right to live wherever it is you want, but why’d you have to go and move so far off, frisk? do you not want to see your ‘ol pal sansy as often anymore, is that it?”

 “Sans, our houses are literally less than ten feet apart.” She giggled uncontrollably; his laughter was potently contagious.

 “but it feels so far away in my SOUL!” He cried out dramatically, clutching the front of his shirt directly at the area of his chest as he fell to the carpet, on his knees.

 “We’re talking to each other face to face from our windows! How much closer do you want us to be?!”

 “until it’s impossible for us to get any closer.” He replied without a beat, his laughter dying down to a nervous chuckle as a soft blue blush slowly spread across his face.

 “Wh-What...?” She stuttered dumbly.

 “what?” He parroted immediately after; so immediate that Frisk was almost certain that she must have misheard or imagined what had preceded.

 “...Sans, you goob. You really fooled me into thinking there was something horribly wrong! What you just did wasn’t in the Gyftmas spirit, Sans!”

 “ok, ok, yeah, now that i think about it, that really was kinda mean of me.” He scratched the back of his skull with an awkward sheepish smile, at least having the decency to look ashamed of himself. “...but it still made you laugh, though.”

 “...Okay, I will admit that it was actually pretty funny... Especially that whole thing you do where you grossly exaggerate how far apart our houses are, despite us being next-door neighbors and all...” Frisk then made the valiant effort to appear stern in front of him. “But anymore jokes like that one today, and you’ll leave me with no choice but to take away your present privileges.”

 “you... you got me something?” His droopy sockets widened, and the white spheres that served as his pupils enlarged to the extent that they almost looked like twin moons, his reaction all but suggesting that he was truly taken aback by the thought.

 “Of course I did. Undyne may be my bestie, but you’re my bestest buddy.” She stated sincerely, but then smirked, a wicked idea manifesting without any warning. “Prepare yourself, because it’s on it’s way!”

 “you didn’t have to get me anything, frisk...” That’s what he said, but he wasn’t exactly doing an excellent job at hiding his inner giddiness – it almost made her feel bad for what she was about to do. “...wait? you’re giving it to me now?”

 “Yep! Whether you choose to close your eyes or not is up to you.”

 “...‘kay. i’ll keep ‘em closed, since i think that’s what you want me to do. sansy ‘ll play along with the surprise, kiddo.” His sockets shut, but not a second later he cracked one open. “...you better not be about to throw a snowball at my face though, ‘cause that’s a declaration of war where i come from.”

 “It’s not a snowball, so don’t worry.”

 And it really wasn’t a snowball. But he was about to get a face full of something.

 Frisk walked over to her nightstand to grab Sans’s present, unwrapped. She had meant to wrap it along with the rest of his gift, but this one had become misplaced, and thus it escaped getting packaged at the time. It was something small, in both size and value, but she was told by Toriel that Sans would appreciate it nonetheless.

 It was time to test if that claim was true.

 She stood in front of the window, taking in the sight of Sans standing there, his sockets closed and looking as though he were mere seconds away from actually falling asleep in that very spot while standing up. He was definitely nodding off though – it was time for a little wakeup call!

 “Here it comes!” She yelled happily, hurling the object she held in her hand with all her might out the window; it sailed through the chilly air and the snow, crossing the few feet’s distance between them and towards him at top speed.

 Her sudden shout caused his sockets to snap open, just at the exact right moment for whatever it was she had thrown to pelt him directly in the face.

 “buh?!” He nearly spluttered in surprise.

 It took a few more moments, as he was still somewhat paralyzed from the shock of it all, but as soon as he regained his bearings, Sans peeled off the offending object covering his eyes; it had felt soft when it collided with his skull, and he discovered that what struck him was in fact a pair of socks.

 But not just any pair of socks. No, this particular pair was colored a dark gray, and that itself wasn’t too special, but on them he found images of little cheeseburgers scattered across the fabric. Something red was also oozing out from underneath the top buns of the patties, which was obviously meant to be ketchup. They looked just as though Grillby had decided to design clothing themed around his restaurant’s menu on the side, and Sans was loving it.

 “these... these are amazing!”

 Frisk knew that he would like them, but she never once thought that Sans, or anyone for that matter, would be so overjoyed to receive a pair of socks as a gift, especially as a Gyftmas present.

 He was so pleased with them that he began kicking off his slippers posthaste and sat down on his bedroom floor to put them on. It was while he was doing this that Frisk took the opportunity to actually look at him, specifically his body, and even more specifically, his feet.

 They... didn’t look like an actual skeleton’s feet. An actual skeleton as in a human skeleton, that is; which was nothing unusual or out of the ordinary at all for him, she had learned far prior to this point, really. She had been around him and Papyrus for so long now that she didn’t really question what they could do or shouldn’t be able to do as skeletons, but still, these aspects were no less jarring to her when she thought about it for longer than a few seconds.

 His feet looked less skeletal, as contrary as that was, and more like a person’s with all the skin and the meat underneath still attached. The only thing even remotely skeletal about them was the fact that they were made out of bone. She wondered if his hands were also similar in shape. They were always out of sight, since he kept them covered with gloves or mittens or had them shoved in the pockets of his shorts or hoodie, so Frisk had never seen them before.

 He must have caught her in the act of staring, because a few more moments of ogling later and she noticed he was grinning slyly in her direction.

 “getting enough of an eyeful over there?” Sans asked with a wiggle of his eyebone(?), striking what one could consider to be a provocative pose as he slowly pulled the sock up and over his heel, never breaking eye contact with her as he did so.

 “Oh, hush.” Her cheeks were turning a deep, flushed red, and it had nothing to do with the frigid air surrounding and flooding in through the wide-open window.

 “...sweet mother of asgore!” Sans all of a sudden wheezed, startling her before he replied, nearly sobbing in his laughter as he pointed to his leg, “they’re kneesocks!”

 “Kneesocks?!”

 “you didn’t know?!”

 “No!” Frisk insisted, then added embarrassedly, “...I guess I was so absorbed in the print that I didn’t pay attention to what kind they were when I bought them. I’m sorry.”

 “don’t apologize – these are great.” Sans said as he eagerly tugged the other one up the length of his leg up to his patella.

 “Sans the skeleton from Snowdin, you aren’t seriously going to wear those, are you?” She inquired with blatant disbelief evident in her expression and tone.

 “you bet your burger i am. i’m gonna wear them at the party, and i’m patella-ing everyone that’ll listen where i got ‘em from.”

 “Sans, why...?” She half-groaned, half-giggled to herself.

 They shared a few more bad laughs together before a knock at the door interrupted them.

 “sounds like the early birds are already dropping in.” Sans remarked as he leaned out the window, peering down below to see a few monsters waiting at Frisk’s front door. “paps is gonna be disappointed that he wasn’t the first to show up.”

 “Tell him he’ll always come first place in my heart.” Frisk chuckled, already imagining the somewhat pouty expression on the taller skeleton’s face when he saw the other guests had beaten him to the Gyftmas punch, quite literally.

 “heh, he’ll appreciate that. hey, just wanted to let you know, he an’ i got most of the cooking done last night before bed, and he’s finishing up the final touches on his part of the spread right now. it’ll be more than a bit of a pain in the tailbone to carry it all in a few dishes per trip, so...” He lifted a single phalange, the tip of it glowing a bright blue along with his left eye. “...i might have to put in some actual effort to pull this off.”

 “Ohhh...! Sans is busting out the scary cyan magic eye!” She gasped, clapping her hands with delight. “And all for me and the sake of the party! I’m actually gonna see you use some magic!”

 “you act like it’s such a big deal...” He scratched the back of his skull again, turning to the side so hopefully she wouldn’t notice the blush matching the color of his magic blooming in his cheeks.

 Another knock interrupted their talk, much louder and more persistent than prior.

 “...I better go answer that.”

 “‘kay. see ya in a bit, kiddo.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 Just a few hours later, and the party had already gone into full swing. The house was packed with guests at every turn, and it would only grow fuller as the day went on. Frisk fully expected the celebration to continue well into the late hours of the night, and she was more than alright with this.

 She had received plenty of promises from certain higher profile monsters that they would be attending; the presence of Toriel and Asgore hadn’t surprised her in the slightest, despite their busy schedules that didn’t let up even during the holidays. But Mettaton? Frisk was quite honestly astonished when she saw the modelesque robot strut through the front door and directly into her living room wearing a long faux-fur coat and high-heeled snow boots, even though he shouldn’t be able to feel the frigid temperatures outside.

 “Mettaton?!” She openly expressed her shock.

 “The one and only.” He lowered his sunglasses, which were entirely inappropriate for this sort of snowy weather, and winked.

 “I... I didn’t think you would make it.”

 “I wouldn’t miss your little soirée for the world, darling!” He threw up his arms to sweep her into an unprecedented embrace. “Although... it was exceedingly difficult. It’s fortunate that you sent out the invitations in advance as you did, otherwise my fabulous self being present today would have been nothing short of impossible. Being a surface world star is glamorous and all, but... some of the producers I work with really do know how to get my gears grinding!”

 “Well, I really am happy to see you here in person, Mettaton, and not on the television as expected.” She eagerly returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around his cold metallic body. “I know that I’m yours and everybody else’s ambassador, but I still can’t even begin to imagine how taxing your career can be sometimes. But remember that today is all about relaxing and spending time with the ones you love. Get some well-deserved rest for the moment and fill the Mettaton-shaped hole in our Mettaton-shaped hearts.”

 “That’s right... That’s exactly what I came here today to do. To catch up with everyone else and hear what’s happening in their own lives, while mine’s been spent under the spotlight so much lately. I can’t afford to make the same mistake as I did last time...” His head whipped around the room as if searching for something, or rather someone. “Blooky? Will Blooky be arriving soon? Are they even coming?!”

 “Don’t get your circuits in a twist just yet. Blooky’s already here – go look over in the corner of the other living room, where the music player is. I asked them to DJ for me today with the holiday compositions they compiled just for the occasion.”

 Mettaton paused in his dramatics to listen, recognizing with apparent fondness in his features the soft tune that floated through the air well – ‘Ghouliday’, one of the first songs the cousins had wrote together when the two simultaneously became interested in music several years ago.

 “That song of ours... it feels just like home...” He then took off in a sprint into the next room over, his arms waving around almost like limp noodles in a strong wind as he charged towards the ghost with the express purpose of defying all logic and laws of physics to wrap his beloved cousin in a hug. “BLOOKY! I missed you sooooo MUH-HUH-UUUUCH!!!”

 “Waitwaitwaitwait!” She heard Napstablook utter as urgently as their soft voice would allow. “I’m holding punch!”

 There was the sound of a crash, several people screaming and glass breaking, followed by a short beat before Mettaton timidly and uncharacteristically squeaked,

 “...I’ll clean that up!”

 So the party was going great.

 The pile of presents underneath the tree was growing bigger and bigger with each additional guest that attended the Gyftmas gathering. A grand assortment of names were jotted down on the tags, but Frisk probably shouldn’t have been as taken aback as she was to find that a good number of them were addressed to her.

 A scaly hand suddenly clapping over her shoulder brought the girl out of her thoughts and caused her to shriek in alarm.

 “WHOA, hey!” Undyne retracted her hand as if she had been burnt, holding both of them up in a defensive stance. “Didn’t mean to scare ya like that, Frisk. ...You were looking a little spaced out there, so I thought I’d check up on ya.”

 “Sorry for reacting like that. I was just thinking to myself... Looking at all these presents here, and so many of them for me, it made me realize how many friends I have now.”

 “I still can’t believe you’re trying to fit basically the entire Underground under one roof... and YOUR roof! You had to of known that’s a disaster just waiting to happen. And to go ahead and do it anyway despite that, well, that takes some real guts, punk!”

 “Mettaton said that he was going to clean up the mess he made, and I believe him.”

 “Wait, what?” She blinked before letting out a cackle. “You mean the ol’ tin can’s already broke something?! I take it back – you’re either fearless, or just plain NUTS for even trying to pull this off! But hey, no matter how it goes, this is gonna be something for us all to remember and laugh about later!”

 Her wide toothy grin then turned into a deep frown.

 “...Seeing everybody here, with smiles on their faces, just happy to be alive and in each other’s company; it makes me feel kinda bad.”

 “Why?” Frisk inquired, incredulous. “Why would what’s supposed to be the most wonderful day of the year make you feel that way? I mean, I’m sure you have your reasons, but you seemed pretty fired up about today before...”

 “Well, I feel guilty.” Undyne averted her gaze and tugged at her scarf absentmindedly. “Back when I first met you, I hated you and every other human; because I thought you hated us. And then, well, you and I, we ended up becoming besties! But... it’s moments like these, where we’re all together just having a good time here on the surface with you that makes me remember... what a horrible mistake I almost made.”

 “Undyne, it’s all behind us.” Frisk reassured her, reaching up to place her own hand over her towering fishy friend’s shoulder with some struggling before settling on simply patting the sleeve of her arm. “You shouldn’t be thinking about that anymore – especially not today, of all days.”

 “Yeah, you keep saying that, but... sometimes I still feel pretty lousy about it.” She wrapped Frisk into a tight, almost suffocating one-armed hug accompanied by an aggressive noogie. “I couldn’t have been more wrong then! I thought you were gonna destroy us all, and that I needed to protect everybody from you. But the truth was, what I needed to be doing was protecting YOU! You really are just like Papyrus sometimes - too darn NICE for your own good!”

 “Oww! I appreciate the sentiments, but please don’t noogie the human!”

 “See? That sounds JUST LIKE something he would say!”

 “That’s because he did say it before. You know, that one time over the phone?”

 “Oh yeah, he did, didn’t he?” Undyne ceased her relentless grinding of the knuckles against Frisk’s head for the moment to ponder and reminisce. “Ya know, sometimes that whole adventure you had Underground with us feels like it happened ages ago, and other times like it was just last week. Time is funny like that. ...Oh man. I’m starting to sound just like that old coot Gerson!”

 “Stay with us, Undyne! You can’t go slipping away from us just yet!” Frisk teased, laughing at her mortified expression. “You’re still too young for the rocking chair and recollecting of yesteryears!”

 “You’re right! I’ve gotta stop blathering on and on about what happened yesterday and focus on what’s happening TODAY! Make some new memories, YEAH!” A few nearby monsters turned her way, but otherwise her exclamation didn’t receive too much fanfare. “Hey, is Alphys here yet? I want her to open up my Gyftmas present to her ASAP!”

 “No, she hasn’t gotten here just yet, but she did text me a few minutes ago saying she was on her way.” Undyne shuffled and stomped in place impatiently at this. “Oh, oh! You want to know what I got her?”

 “Uh, yeah!” She enthusiastically exclaimed. “...Does it have anything to do with Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, though?”

 “Actually, it does!”

 “Aw, PLEASE don’t tell me we ended up getting her the exact same thing!”

 “What did you get her, Undyne?” Frisk inquired, confident that her friend’s assumption was incorrect, but a sliver of nervousness was still present in her question.

 “Well, you know how most of the anime out there is usually based off of those Japanese books with all the pictures in them that you gotta read backwards to understand anything that’s going on? Uh, I think they’re called mangoes? Manhwas? Maybe it was mandalas? No, wait, that still doesn’t sound right...” Before Frisk could correct her, she had already moved on. “Well anyway, she’s got some DVDs of the anime, but none of the books. So I did a lot of scouting on your human internet and found the whole set. But finding all of them together isn’t what took me so long, no – this set is special. They’re all signed. By the AUTHOR!”

 “Alphys is gonna flip.” The reptilian monster was usually shy and soft-spoken in nature, but when talking about something she loved, Alphys could become momentarily unrestrained and speak freely about her hobbies and passions.

 “That’s EXACTLY what I’m hoping she’ll do! I don’t even know how many hours I spent and how many online shopping websites I had to search through, and let’s not even get into how much money I had to shell out for the set after I FINALLY found it - but seeing her nerd out over something like that, it’ll all be SO worth it. I’d do it again five times and a bunch more if I got that kind of adorable reaction each time!”

 “That’s so cute, it makes my heart hurt!”

 “So, uh, sorry to be the bringer of bad news, Frisk, but... if we really DID get the same thing for her, mine’s GOTTA be the superior of the two. ...There’s no way we both got her a signed set of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie mangolios, did we?”

 “No, fortunately we didn’t get her the same thing.” It was subtle, but the tension in Undyne’s expression eased at that. “Those DVDs of hers you mentioned? Well, I watched the series myself several years ago, and the ones she has aren’t complete. They’re from that old company that went out of business that used to hold the license; and not only did they do a horrendous job with the dubbing, but the episodes are out of order, some of them are even missing, and then the ones that weren’t cut were edited so badly that it’s almost painful to watch.”

 “Really? I watched some of the episodes with Alphys before, and at the time I didn’t really notice anything too weird about ‘em. But now that you’ve told me all this stuff, I gotta say, there’s actually a whole lot of plotholes and a bunch of other things that didn’t make much to any sense in the story.”

 “So this right here...” Frisk plucked a present from the ever-expanding pile, a sparkly tag with the name ‘Alphys’ written in pen stuck to the paper, and waved it around with a smile. “...Is the complete set. All fifty-two uncut episodes in their correct airing order on eight disks, with the additional viewing choice of a brand-new English dub or the original Japanese voice acting with subtitles.”

 “Dang, I just realized... Alphys is gonna be so busy with this stuff we got her, she probably won’t have any time to hang out with either of us anymore!”

 “Well, I can’t say anything about the books, but maybe we could make the viewing of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie a thing at Ladies’ Night from here on out?” Frisk suggested, believing that the rest of the girls might enjoy it; especially since they could actually follow the plot along without much trouble when watching this edition of the series.

 But Undyne didn’t respond to her suggestion. No, the redhead was peering at something behind her, just over Frisk’s shoulder, with a slack-jawed expression. But before Frisk could even begin to ask her what was wrong, a shrill squeal erupted far too close to her ear, forcing her to turn around.

 “Alphys!” Frisk shrieked herself, now knowing exactly why Undyne had seemed so distraught. “How much did you-” It was too late, she realized. “You... you heard everything, didn’t you?”

 “So much for surprises...” Undyne grumbled sourly, crossing her arms.

 However, Undyne’s prickly mood quickly faded when Alphys launched herself at her, flinging her arms around her neck and squeezing with all the appreciation she could convey as she practically screamed her gratitude towards them both.

 “ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOUTHANKYOU...!!!!!” Alphys screeched with delight, her grip around Undyne’s neck becoming tighter and tighter to the point that even one of the strongest monsters in the Underground was having difficulty breathing.

 “Alphie, you’re CHOKING me...!”

 “Oh... OH! Sorry! I’m SO sorry!” She immediately detached herself from the fish lady, somewhat mortified but still giddy, and gave her a chance to regain her breath. “I just... I got so excited that I... I just couldn’t contain myself anymore!”

 “Well, you’re gonna have to contain yourself for a while longer, now!” Undyne huffed, a look of faux scorn gracing her face. “Instead of doing the honorable thing and walking away when you had the chance to, you stood RIGHT THERE and heard everything that you weren’t supposed to; and once again, instead of WALKING AWAY and pretending you didn’t hear ANYTHING, you LET US KNOW you were there by calling attention to yourself with all your adorable squeaking and squealing!”

 “I... I’m so sorry I ruined the surprise...”

 “...I know you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just... I really wanted to WOW you, Alphie. And I’m sure Frisk here did too, what with how much she was hyping up your present from her.” Undyne then pointed a clawed finger at her. “HOWEVER, because the identity of your gifts have been revealed to you too early, you have to WAIT to open them – ONE HOUR for EVERY MINUTE that you spent standing there listening to us!”

 “I stood here for about five minutes...” Alphys decided it was best to be honest with her, to avoid disappointing Undyne any further than she already had.

 “Then you can open them at three.” She huffed in response, then peered down at Frisk, who was giving her a fixed stare accompanied by a tiny frown. “Don’t you give me that look! That’s what my mama made me do whenever I snooped around to see what I was getting for Gyftmas before I was supposed to! Heck, sometimes I screwed up with her so bad that I had to wait for DAYS after Gyftmas had passed! Don’t ask me how she always knew I snuck some peeks of the stash before she could get ‘em all wrapped - moms are just really good at finding out about that kind of stuff.”

 “Aww...” Alphys pouted in a manner not unlike an upset child, and both Undyne and Frisk had to admit – seeing her like that really was precious.

 “It’s just a few hours, Alphie.” Undyne playfully rolled her one good eye and began shoving her good-naturedly towards a group of guests that had gathered around the television. “Let’s go mingle some and then you’ll see the time will pass by before you even know it!”

 Undyne hauled Alphys off in such a rush that Frisk had missed her opportunity to give the finned monster her own gift – she watched the couple for a moment, wondering if she should drop in on their ensuing chatter to deliver it, but it seemed they were having so much fun that she’d hate to interrupt. She supposed that Undyne could open hers later, alongside Alphys’s.

 Shopping for Undyne had been a bit of a stumper, compared to some of the other monsters that she knew. Frisk’s first choice had been a replica sword, but then she recalled their frequent hangouts at her place and remembered that she had plenty of those – the human girl thought for some time that they had burned up in the fire, but Frisk learned shortly after visiting her new home on the surface that she braved the seemingly eternal flames which still engulfed her old house in the Underground and had gone back inside to rescue them. And aside from a few scuff marks, they were essentially in pristine shape.

 Even though she was certain that her anime-obsessed friend would be more than thrilled to receive yet another oversized duplicate sword to add to her collection, Frisk felt that her Gyftmas present needed to be a bit more special. She wracked her brain for days on end, reviewing everything she knew about the powerful fish woman and former captain of the Royal Guard.

 So, after much deliberation, Frisk decided that instead of giving her yet another replica for her to put on display...

 She would get her a real one.

 The only person she had spoken to concerning this idea was Sans (because Papyrus couldn’t keep a secret even for the sake of his own life, and Alphys couldn’t exactly be trusted with this top-secret information either because she became increasingly loose-lipped when excited to a certain extent), who unhesitantly informed her that while Undyne would be ecstatic, going through with it would be a grave mistake on her part.

 Undyne was zealous, yes, and incredibly hot-blooded for a fish lady, but Frisk told him that she trusted her to be responsible with the bladed weapon.

 “a move which will henceforth be known as ‘mistake number two’.” He had rung in with his opinion then.

 But she honestly couldn’t think of anything else that would impress her as much as a genuine steel sword, so at the time Frisk had more or less told Sans to stuff it. She was hoping with all her might that Undyne would prove him wrong – otherwise she’d never hear the end of it from the smug skeleton.

 Frisk was aware that someone who had the ability to summon spears made of magic from thin air would probably possess no real need for a sword, but the practicality of the present wasn’t really all that important in the first place – the only thing that truly mattered in the end was whether Undyne was happy or not with her gift.

 And speaking of Sans, she quite literally bumped into him on her way to the kitchen. It seemed he just then finished putting all the dishes he and Papyrus prepared in their proper places on the various tables she had set up around the living room, because the faint glow of his magic was still visible in his left eye and she caught sight of a fading wisp of blue from his fingertips.

 “‘ey, kiddo. where’s the fire at?” His hands reached out to steady her, their unexpected impact nearly knocking Frisk off her feet.

 “It’s in the kitchen – I thought I’d check up on Grillby. He said there were still a few things left that he needed to involving some additions to the spread and asked to borrow mine so he could finish the job.”

 “paps is really letting this new position as a ‘head chef’ get to his, uh, head.” He sighed, but it was an unmistakably satisfied one. “don’t get me wrong – i couldn’t be happier that he’s done nothing but improve since we’ve been on the surface; tickled to the bone even... but i gotta admit, paps can be kind of a bossy boots when he’s all absorbed in his cooking. he has this tendency to hover over anybody else with him when in the kitchen, and feels the need to input some well-meaning, but unrequested advice. so i hope he isn’t giving grillbz too bad of a time in there.”

 “You told me that everything on the list of dishes he was responsible for was finished. If Papyrus finished everything he was supposed to, then why would he be in the kitchen?”

 “to dispense some of his well-meaning advice.”

 “...Oh. Well, I think Grillby might be able to handle it?” Sans didn’t seem so sure of her words, and neither did she herself honestly. “He seems like the type to work well even under pressure. From what I’ve seen, for someone made of flames, he’s pretty good at keeping a cool head.”

 “yeah, maybe so, but even someone as chill as grillby has got to have an ignition point.” Sans did have a point there, Frisk mentally noted – and while they both knew that the flamesman would never blow up on Papyrus, the likelihood of him becoming tormented by the skeleton’s helpful intentions was quite high. “you said you were going to pop in and check on him? i’ll go with ya – i’ve gotta give grillby his gift anyway, so now’s as good a time as ever, i guess.”

 “What did you get him?” Frisk asked, filled with curiosity.

 “well, it’s not really much of a gyftmas present, but...” He shrugged, seeming somewhat ashamed. “i’m gonna finally pay off my tab with him, with interest. i think he’d probably appreciate that more than anything else i could’ve got him today.”

 “You mean you still haven’t paid off that big bill you racked up in the Underground?” Frisk shook her head, but smiled all the same. “What I have for him isn’t anything material either, but I’m pinning my hopes on the possibility that it’ll be the sort of gift that’ll keep on giving in the long run.”

 “it already sounds a lot better than what i have planned. so, don’t keep me in suspense, kiddo - what’s this spectacular gift of yours that’s supposed to keep on giving all year ‘round? it’s not a one-year membership to the jelly of the month club, is it?”

 “No, and I caught that reference, Sans.” She giggled, and he swore the sound was almost like bells, if only to him. “Some of the monsters, like Grillby, I couldn’t think of anything to give them that I could wrap up in a box. So instead of something physical, I decided to make a present out of an act or service – I’ve made the arrangements for his restaurant to receive a much needed expansion in the near future, since I heard from him and a few other regulars that the building is getting sort of cramped, what with all the new customers he’s drawing in now.”

 “aww, kiddo.” He cooed, “grillby ‘ll probably start crying soot when you drop the news on him. an upsized establishment is the best thing you ever could have thought up to give him. you’ve got me beat in that department - that’s way better than my idea.”

 “Gyftmas isn’t a contest, Sans.” She gently chided him. “And I’m sure that Grillby will be more than happy to collect your overdue payments as a present. I’m willing to bet he most likely never thought he’d see a single piece of the gold that went into your meals, so at least it’s a guarantee you’ll be surprising him.”

 “ouch.” He placed one hand over his ribcage, feigning hurt. “that was cold, frisk. real cold. you wanna know how cold that was? that was so cold, that i could step right through that front door and walk straight into that blizzard going on out there, and it’d still be a whole lot warmer than what you just said to me, your ol’ pal sansy.”

 “i was just teasing you, funnybones.” She lightly slapped his arm, the touch more akin to a light tap as she laughed, “I knew you were always planning on paying him back. You always do. Grillby once told me you never did let him down before when it came to eventually clearing off your tabs, so he didn’t expect you to this time, either.”

 “that grillby... what a guy.” Sans shook his head, almost pityingly.

 When they entered the kitchen, they found Papyrus exactly where Sans expected him to be, standing behind the flamesman and leaning over his shoulder, closely scrutinizing his work as he chattered on and on in incomprehensible culinary jargon. Grillby’s reaction to this was subtle – to the casual observer, he would appear to be nothing but the very essence of calm. However, the slightly erratic flickering of the flames that composed his body made them aware that Grillby was steadily becoming increasingly distressed at the unwanted commentary and being so closely observed. If that alone hadn’t clearly sent the message across, then the near pleading look he gave the two when he took notice of their presence certainly would have.

 “i got this.” The skeleton by Frisk’s side whispered. “‘ey, pap? what’re ya up to in here, slaving away in front of a stuffy hot stove, when there’s a party going on out there?”

 “OH, HELLO BROTHER! AND A MERRY GYFTMAS TO OUR GRACIOUS HOSTESS TODAY, MY BEST HUMAN FRIEND, FRISK!” He greeted them cheerfully, then gestured to Grillby. “I WAS MERELY OFFERING MY VASTLY ENHANCED CULINARY EXPERTISE TO ONE OF OUR OTHER FELLOW CHEFS WHO IS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE!”

 “i can see that you’ve been busy.” Sans stated simply, taking in the fire monster’s haggard appearance which Papyrus seemed to be oblivious to. “but pap, it looks like grillbz is about done here, and some of the peeps attending the skelly-bration have been asking about ya in the past half hour.”

 It wasn’t a lie, either. At least five monsters had flagged him down on his way to the kitchen alone, questioning him on the whereabouts of his brother. Perhaps it was merely curiosity at work, as the brothers were rarely apart from one another for extended intervals, but the fact remained that several guests were expecting the appearance of the great Papyrus.

 Sans wanted to rescue his good pal Grillby from the fate of being subjected to his younger brother’s backseat cooking, but he didn’t want to hurt Papyrus’s confidence or his pride in order to do so.

 It was one of his fatal flaws – Sans showed difficulty in being honest with those he loved whenever something was amiss, so he would lie in order to spare their feelings. He held the uttermost purest of intentions, but Frisk had a premonition of sorts that this habit of his would one day return to bite him hard in the boney posterior, and the end result might not be as humorous as it sounded.

 “UGH. THAT PUN WAS HORRIBLE. JUST... ABOMINABLE!” Papyrus groaned, his disgusted reaction eliciting a snort from Sans. “...YOU SAY THAT THE PARTY GUESTS... ARE REQUESTING MY COMPANY?! WELL...! I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, GRILLBY, I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS MY REMORSE, BUT I MUST LEAVE THE REST OF WHAT REMAINS TO BE DONE IN YOUR CAPABLE HANDS!”

 “That’s quite alright, Papyrus.” Grillby’s soft, whispery voice crackled, the relief it displayed only being discernible to the human and the shorter skeleton. “I can finish up the rest of the cooking just fine by myself – you go and enjoy yourself.”

 Sans had cleverly played on the enjoyment Papyrus took out of being the center of several’s attention well – he had no difficulty in carting him out of the room and thus allowing the overstressed fire monster to complete his assigned task in relative peace.

 Before they slipped out of the kitchen, Frisk left an envelope addressed to him on the counter where she was certain he would find it. Inside were papers, the documents detailing the renovations and additions that would be appended to his restaurant, and all that would be required of him in exchange is that he sign his name on the dotted line at the bottom of the last page.

 This is what Frisk murmured to Sans when he inquired over the contents of the mysterious parcel he had noticed she left behind for Grillby to discover.

 “didn’t you want to watch him open it, though?”

 “Yeah, I did, but... I thought that if he really did end up crying over it, then it might fluster him if he did that in front of you or me or Papyrus. This way, he can be as emotional as needed in his own privacy, and Grillby can find me later to talk about it if he wants to after he’s composed himself.”

 “i’m sure he’d appreciate the consideration. pretty much anybody that’s known grillby for long enough is aware that it don’t take much for him to get worked up until he’s shedding soot all over everything. you’d think he’d be the stoic type, someone that isn’t easily moved, but that first impression couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 “I think it’s wonderfully sweet. The world needs more caring and tenderhearted men like him. There are way too many aloof, dismissive, and severely emotionally stunted types out there already.”

 “yeah?” Sans replied, his interest piqued – not that she picked up on anything unusual or out of sorts in his behavior.

 Little did Frisk know, topics such as her preferences in men, specifically monster men, had been frequently occupying his thoughts as of late.

 A spark of faint, barely there attraction had manifested following her befriending and hanging out with his brother. He made a valiant effort in forcing these feelings of his down as deeply as he could shove them, to the very bottom of his protesting SOUL. He tried to convince himself that such a thing between them would never work out by using various methods to psyche himself out of his budding crush.

 She’s a human. She could still be dangerous. Monsters aren’t supposed to feel this way about humans. The other monsters would make fun of you. It will only end in tragedy. You’d put her in danger if anyone found out. She would never feel the same.

 Such excuses was what he relied on to reign in his emerging urges, his desires to pursue a relationship of a romantic nature with her. But the more time he spent with her, the more he heard her laugh that was reminiscent of the chiming of bells at his jokes, his japes, and antics, the more he beheld her smile that shined brighter than the stars he loved so much, the more it became impossible to deny that he had fallen.

 Fallen deeply and hopelessly in love.

 He was constantly torn between handing out hints that pointed towards his sentiments and doing everything within his power to bury them from her sight. He didn’t want her to uncover his blossoming affections, yet he did want her to. Sans had never felt such a terrifying, yet thrilling sensation in his entire life.

 Since he was made aware of his own feelings towards Frisk, there were only two things holding him back from participating in the games of love, presently. The first was the very real prospect that she may not share his feelings. The second, however...

 “Papyrus, before either of you go wandering off anywhere, I need you and Sans to stay put for a moment – I’m going to get your Gyftmas gifts out from under the tree. I hope they haven’t been buried underneath the others up by now...”

 Papyrus nearly squealed with jubilation and delight, gushing over her thoughtfulness as Sans for the second time that day was caught off-guard.

 “you mean the socks weren’t my present?” He questioned, pointing to his legs which were covered up to his patella in tiny burgers and fries.

 “Good gracious, how did I not notice that you were still wearing those things?” Frisk remarked, the second-hand embarrassment almost overwhelming.

 “your guess is as good as mine, ‘cuz you really should of since you’re so short.”

 “Oh hush.” She huffed, scurrying off for a few minutes before returning with two boxes wrapped in brightly colored paper.

 Once the boxes were in their respective hands, both noted that the presents were actually rather heavy in weight. They took the time to tilt their gifts from side to side, gently shaking them in front of her, just to tease Frisk a little before opening them. Sans felt the need to casually stick the bow that was on the box to the side of his skull, for whatever reason – this borderline bizarre action still elicited a laugh out of the girl all the same, much to his inner satisfaction.

 Because that was a part of love – doing stupid and even irrational things just to make the one you loved happy.

 Papyrus tore into his present first, and he couldn’t have been more captivated with what was inside.

 “SANS, LOOK!” He proudly held up a thick book with several tabs sticking out of the pages; it was a book of recipes, to be precise. “‘101 WAYS TO PREPARE PERFECTLY PLEASING PASTA’! EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE EVER WISHED TO LEARN ABOUT SPAGHETTI IS CONTAINED WITHIN THE CONFINES OF THIS BOOK! I CAN AT LAST TOSS OUT THAT OUTDATED COPY WITH ALL THE FADED AND TORN BITS I FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND’S JUNKYARD!”

 So that explained what was wrong with his spaghetti then, Frisk thought. Chunks of his previous cookbook were missing, and he must have tried to substitute ingredients and wing the rest of the recipe’s steps, with disastrous results.

 ...But that still didn’t quite explain why it wasn’t even remotely edible. Just what had he put inside the sauce?!

 “so i guess that you’ll be telling that old book...” Sans started, the grin on his face spreading further.

 “SANS, DON’T YOU DARE!”

 “pasta-la vista.”

 Papyrus’s entire body gave an almost violent jerk as a strangled wheezing sound escaped his throat – it was a laugh or a chortle of some sort, that much they were sure of, but he had done his best to suppress it.

“SANS... THAT PUN WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE LAST!”

 “nuh uh. you thought it was hilarious.” Sans calmly contended with a smirk. “don’t even try to deny it, paps. your reaction said more than words ever could.”

 “...I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY OR HOW THAT HAPPENED. I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED IT, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, BUT I STILL LAUGHED ANYWAY!”

 “i know the answer to that – it’s because i’m the pun-niest skeleton that ever lived.”

 “...THAT IS DEBATABLE.” Papyrus shot him an unamused glance. “NOW DON’T BONE-DOGGLE AROUND ANY FURTHER THAN NECESSARY – START UNWRAPPING YOUR OWN PRESENT AND SHOW ME WHAT FRISK GAVE YOU FOR GYFTMAS!”

 “ok, patience, paps. don’t get your tibia in a twist.” He chuckled, tearing off the wrapping paper in one swift motion and gingerly opening the top flaps of the box to reveal... another book, even heftier than the last. He flipped through it, his sockets gradually widening as he viewed its divisions. “it’s... an astronomy book. star maps, pictures and scientific accounts of solar and lunar eclipses, statistics about the planets in the solar system...”

 Questioning whether he appreciated it wasn’t at all necessary – his expression of wonderment spoke for itself. Sans was positively beaming, and the sight of him wholeheartedly enjoying her gift sent a series of warm fuzzies straight to her heart.

 “thanks a bunch, but... you... you didn’t have to get me anything...” He was touched almost beyond words. “this must have cost a literal fortune...”

 “Pish posh. Never you mind about the price.” She waved off his concern, only providing further proof to him that the astronomy book was indeed more expensive than she was letting on. “Seeing the look that’s on your face right now made it worth every cent.”

 “aw geez, kiddo...” A bright blue blush crept onto and coated his cheeks once more - Frisk couldn’t quite say why, but she found the shade and color to be exceedingly cute.

 Papyrus then plucked Frisk from her place off the floor and pressed her firmly against his chest, hugging her tightly as he thanked her. So tightly that breathing was becoming somewhat of a challenge while being subjected to his loving clasp. Sans squeezed his way into the embrace, finding some amount of enjoyment in watching Frisk struggle and squirm before interfering by tugging at the sleeve of the other skeleton’s sweater.

 “bro, i know you mean well, but I think you might be squishing her.”

 “Yes, please don’t squish the human...” She whined pitifully.

 “OH! MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES, FRISK!” He released her posthaste, setting her down with evident care on her own two feet. “I SEEMED TO HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT YOUR FRAGILE HUMAN BODY WASN’T PROPERLY EQUIPPED TO FULLY WITHSTAND THE FORMIDABLE STRENGTH FROM THE POWERFUL PHYSIQUE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

 “I’m fine, Papyrus. Just... give me a moment to catch my breath.”

 She supposed his tendency of putting his all into everything, even something as natural as an embrace, was a trait that came about from his friendship with Undyne. The fish woman was in no definition of the word gentle, so even the simplest of gestures such as handshakes and hugs were elevated to an extreme level.

 “So, I’ll... take that as a sign that you liked your gift?”

 “YES! IMMENSELY SO!” Papyrus answered as he held the cookbook filled with pasta recipes up, almost proudly. “I PROMISE, FRISK, ONCE I PERFECT THIS RECIPE, YOU’LL HAVE THE MOST DELICIOUS PLATE OF SPAGHETTI OF YOUR HUMAN LIFE, YOU CAN COUNT ON THAT!”

 Several months ago, her insides would have twisted up in dread at that. But now, she could actually feel her stomach threatening to growl and the faintest traces of drool beginning to form at her mouth. She was genuinely looking forward to his dish to the point that Frisk wished she could eat it immediately, if not sooner.

 Against her wishes, all these thoughts and talk of spaghetti spurred her stomach to indeed growl, and quite loudly at that. She could feel the air around them still, and both brothers were staring at her with expressions that could only be described as judgmental.

 “you... you didn’t eat breakfast this morning, did you, kiddo?” Sans says after a long pause, almost accusingly.

 “...No.” She admitted, seeing there was no sense in attempting to fib her way out of this one.

 The once denizens of the Underground took food very seriously, if the vast array of cuisines Frisk came across during her journey were any indication. It seemed each monster she met had some sort of signature dish, such as Toriel’s butterscotch cinnamon pies, Sans’s hotdogs (or even more specifically, hotcats), Muffet’s spider doughnuts and cider, and of course Papyrus’s spaghetti.

 Monsters took their mealtimes very seriously, and Frisk had just committed a terrible offense in their eyes, or rather eye sockets.

 “FRISK, WHY WOULDN’T YOU EAT BREAKFAST THIS MORNING?” Papyrus questioned her mournfully, sounding betrayed. “IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY!!!”

 She had definitely upset him, Frisk realized – he had used three question marks when reprimanding her, something that was usually only reserved for him when he was at his utmost happiest.

 “I... I didn’t have time to.”

 “kiddo, you’re surrounded at every angle by food.” Sans gestured all around them at the tables, every inch of their surfaces covered by dishes filled with delicacies. “that’s, kind of the entire reason why you asked us all to bring something? so nobody would have to go hungry at this party? so, uh, tell me, frisk – what makes you think the host is exempt from that precaution, huh?”

 “It’s not like I chose not to eat anything on purpose, I’ve just been busy.” She feebly defended herself, already aware that she was fighting a hopeless battle. “Making sure everybody’s happy, handing out gifts, that sort of stuff...”

 Sans studied her for a moment, seeming to process her words carefully before craning his neck upwards to look at his brother.

 “...pap? you don’t mind taking up the position of co-host, do you?”

 “WOWIE, WOULD I EVER!”

 “Wh-What?” Frisk blinked twice at them, confused beyond all reason. “What do you mean ‘co-host’?”

 “it means exactly what is sounds like – pap is gonna take over some of your responsibilities so you can relax.”

 “And I don’t get a say in this at all...?”

 “nope.” “NOPE!”

 Their replies were simultaneous, cheerful, and matter of fact, and before she knew it, Frisk felt the bony hand of Sans clamp around her own, tugging her away from the taller skeleton and towards the banquet.

 “But-But I still have presents to deliver to their proper recipients!” She protested, Sans not slowing down in the slightest.

 “YOUR CONCERNS ARE UNFOUNDED, FRISK! THE PRESENTS HAVE TAGS!”

 “they’ve got tags, frisk.” Sans parroted, as if she had somehow not heard him. “don’t worry your pretty head; he’s got this.”

 “Okay, if you say so...” She responded, not sounding convinced at all.

 “trust me on this – papyrus is somebody that feels like he needs to be doing stuff constantly, all the time, and he likes being useful. while i do wish that he would sit down and smell the spaghetti from time to time, this is something good to him, and for him. paps being co-host and handing out presents will give him the chance to mingle, maybe make some friends, even. this’ll be like a whole other present, to him.”

 “All of that does make a lot of sense, now that you’ve explained it...” Frisk conceded defeat to his logic. “...But that doesn’t mean that you have to pull me around just to show me the table spread. I’m the one that set up everything, remember? I know where the food is.”

 “obviously, you don’t, since you haven’t eaten anything yet.” He shot back, and she stuck out her tongue at him childishly – he was just as immature, though, and flicked his own out as well.

 Once they were at the table, he commenced piling the food onto two plates, one for her and one for himself. He then guided his human companion to one of the couches, one where not as many guests were gathered around so there was no danger of someone getting rowdy and spilling their food onto the floor.

 The moment they were seated, before Frisk could even get comfortable, a tiny hotdog wrapped up in a croissant (otherwise known as pigs in a blanket, Sans’s own culinary contribution to the event) was shoved in front of her face, tapping insistently at her lips. She lightly shoved his arm away, but he was persistent.

 “Sans, I know how to eat by myself. You don’t have to feed me!” She squawked as she continued batting at his hands, refusing to allow him to push the tiny sausage past her lips.

 It was mostly out of a sense of paranoia of someone seeing them and getting the wrong idea. The last thing she needed was for someone to begin harassing the skeleton because someone mistakenly believed they were an item. Human-monster couples had become a thing remarkably quickly, but Frisk didn’t believe that Sans would ever be interested in pursuing a relationship with one, much less herself.

 “well, you could of fooled me.” He snipped, and he used her shocked expression at that to his advantage, popping the pig in a blanket into her open mouth. “there, now doesn’t that taste good, baby?”

 “...You’re making me seriously reconsider being a pacifist, Sans.” The girl warned him, but he knew it was all in good fun, wiping away the crumbs at her mouth as she chewed with his thumb before bringing another one to her lips.

 She reached up to snatch the little hotdog from his fingers, causing him to pout exaggeratingly.

 “Well, well, well... aren’t the two of you getting cozy~” A soft and sugary female voice remarked.

 Frisk whirled her head around to find Muffet standing a few feet away, staring at them with the corners of her mouth curved up into a sweet but sly smile.

 Out of all the monsters that could have caught the two of them like this, Muffet was by far not the worst, Frisk thought. She would definitely tease her over this, if not the both of them, but she wasn’t one to spread rumors around.

 Sans, however, seemed to have no sense of shame and all and curled an arm around Frisk’s shoulders, pulling her closer to his side and flashing a grin that matched Muffet’s own. The two monsters shared a knowing gaze that made Frisk feel as though she were missing something here...

 “Hey Muffet, did you come to chat?” She asked somewhat nervously, but the spider lady seemed to be fixed on what she had just witnessed.

 “Oh, and what could be happening here? Did I step into a secret little romantic rendezvous between two lovers?”

 Frisk nearly blanched, and even more distressingly bizarre was, Sans made no moves to deny her outlandish claims. The most he did was wiggle whatever constituted as his eyebrows at Muffet then turning around and doing the same with her. He then picked up another morsel from the platter between his two phalanges in an attempt to feed her again, as if she were some sort of small animal in need of treats.

 “Hmm, that looks fun, dearie. Let me try!” And with that, Muffet plucked one of the pigs in a blanket off of Frisk’s plate herself and poked at the human’s lips with it.

 “Muffet, no, not you too-mphh!” She was quickly silenced by the sausage being shoved into her mouth.

 “Aww, what a sour expression.” Muffet cooed, reaching out to pinch Frisk’s cheek, tugging it around in different directions before releasing her hold.

 Frisk made a solemn vow to herself, then and there – she was never going without eating breakfast again.

 The price was just too much to pay.

 When she turned her head upwards to look at Sans sitting next to her, all smug, she mentally noted that was probably the point of all this. Nevertheless, an important lesson was learned.

 She snagged her plate from the skeleton and scooched as far away from him as possible, all the way to the other side of the couch. Sans, however, just moved as well, sidling right up next to her and slinging his arm around her shoulders once more.

 “The two of you are adorable together~” Muffet giggled, taking her place on the couch at the space directly next to Sans. “I actually didn’t come over here just to torment you, dearie. I wanted to speak with you.”

 “...About what?” Frisk questioned, suspiciously and with a hint of dread.

 “Oh, nothing for you to be wearing such a grim expression. I encountered Papyrus a few minutes ago and he delivered your gift to me on your behalf – I came over here to thank you! An expansion for my bakery, to somehow arrange such a thing was incredibly... generous, of you.”

 “I couldn’t think of a single other thing that might make you more happy.” Frisk confessed. “That was the best I could do.”

 “Dearie, there isn’t a single other thing you could have given me that would have made me happier.” Muffet shook her head, her pigtails swaying from side to side. “I was elated to have that old building and make it into something of my own, you must believe me on that, but it was so very... cramped. And there was only so much I could do with that limited space, and thus only so much I could earn with the few resources I had available.”

 Muffet frowned, her voice dwindling to nothing more than a murmur.

 “...I am aware of what others say of me, I’ve heard their whispers; that I’m stingy and constantly demanding money, and perhaps that is true in a certain sense, but I behave so not for myself, but for all of them, my family.”

 She gestured around the room, and Frisk could make out several members of the Arachnid family in the crowd. She hadn’t met any of them during her adventure underground, but Muffet was more than eager to introduce them to her after they had struck up a proper friendship and began spending an extended time in each other’s company. Frisk always knew that Muffet was so much more than a money-grubbing spider like some spoke of her as being, but now more than ever was Frisk made aware that she was simply a hard-working monster, toiling endlessly to provide for her family.

 “I never once thought such a thing would ever leave my lips, but...” Muffet sighed blissfully, “your gift almost feels too generous. My one and only wish, every year when Gyftmas arrived, was for all of them to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I never truly cared much about seeing the surface, if I’m being honest with myself, but ever since they began occupying it along with the rest of us, that’s all they’ve ever been – happier than I’ve ever seen them. And I have you to thank for it.”

 Muffet was right – Frisk couldn’t exactly speak for how they may have behaved prior to the breaking of the barrier, but each and every member of her family seemed to be in high spirits whenever she saw them. And today, Gyftmas Day, was no different.

 She could spot Irene, the big, buff tarantula, arm wrestling with Undyne, Alphys cheering her on along with several others while Irene was supported by several other spiders and monsters, and it appeared it was going to be a close match. Edgar, a short and rather shy male black widow, was cuddling with his human girlfriend Elizabeth on one of the other couches (fiancé, he frequently insisted, in spite of them only having known each other for a few months at most). Muffet’s father, Daddy Longlegs, who was also one of the higher up employees at Frisk’s office, seemed to be conversing with some other guests over by the punch bowl, the once tall and intimidating monster wearing a gentle smile on his face.

 Ku-Mo, Muffet’s mysterious as much as beautiful relative from Japan, who had fled from the war and thus managed to escape the fate of being imprisoned in the Underground, had arrived with her human husband in tow, the two having been married in secret for several years already and were currently quietly enjoying each other’s company by the crackling fireplace. Julian the peacock spider, a dancer and a designer, was bickering endlessly with Mettaton who he often claimed to be his rival, as per usual during their encounters, but even that was far more lighthearted and less snide than the norm. Spinerette, his timid brown recluse wife, was watching from the sidelines, trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.

 Charlotte and Peter, the twins of inexplicable origin (Muffet claimed the two just appeared before her several years ago, as if having manifested from thin air; no mother, father, nor any relative of the sort accompanying them, and the already massive arachnid family took both brother and sister in without any further questioning), were supposed to be eating together while watching television, but were spending more time tossing mini marshmallows from their cocoa at one other over little comments the other made more than anything. And Webber, Muffet’s first cousin and a tarantula/daddy longlegs hybrid, was busying himself with keeping the Annoying Dog preoccupied with pets so Papyrus wouldn’t freak out.

 Watching them all like this, along with the others, it was exactly the sort of beautiful chaos that Frisk had wanted out of today.

 Muffet then more or less pushed Sans to the side to envelop Frisk in a loving, six-armed embrace, holding onto her tightly like a lifeline.

 “Seeing them like this, this is all I’ve ever wanted out of this life of mine. ...Everyone had to keep up appearances in the Underground, a jovial one; we all wore a smile, grinning and bearing it, but occasions such as these are the ones where I know for a fact that they’re genuine – real. I sleep so much better in my nest knowing they’re all so much happier this way.”

 She held the human even closer towards her, if that was somehow possible.

 “As far as I’m concerned, Frisk, you’re a member of the arachnid family as well. If you need anything, dearie, anything at all, then please keep in mind that you can come to me for whatever it may be.”

 To say that Frisk felt touched by the sentiment would be the understatement of the century. Muffet had a strong sense of family, but didn’t befriend others easily. She spent so much of her time invested in keeping her own kind content that she simply had none left to spare on friendship, not until she left the Underground. Muffet always wore a mask of mystery, much like her relative Ku-Mo, giggling sweetly and deflecting questions about her own state of happiness in favor of focusing on her family’s.

 She and Sans were very much the same in that regard – perhaps that was why the two were always so amicable towards each other. They had a mutual understanding.

 “Dearie, I know it isn’t much; I’m certain that nothing I could possibly give you could ever properly repay for everything you’ve done for me and my family, but this is my gift to you.”

 Muffet gently placed a medium sized box onto Frisk’s lap, light in weight and the wrapping paper covered in little cupcakes. It was so adorable that she hesitated for a moment to open it, but she could tell that despite her modesty when presenting it, Muffet was eager to see her reaction to its contents.

 Inside the gift box was... a blanket. A silk blanket, and it appeared to be a handmade item. The blanket was as white as the fallen snow covering everything outside, and the fabric almost had its own sparkling quality to it as well. Every detail was intricate, so much so that staring at it for too long almost made Frisk’s head begin to spin. Muffet had told her that this present was nothing to get excited over, but the amount of effort that must have went into the weaving of this blanket warmed her to the very core.

 “Muffet, it’s... it’s... beautiful!” She cried, holding it up for Sans to see, having crawled back up onto the couch sometime since the spider lady shoved him.

 “I’m so happy to hear that, dearie!” And she could tell that what she said was genuine, Muffet’s features relaxing somewhat. “I wanted this one to be my greatest creation yet outside of the bakery business, but... I feel as though the pressure I placed on myself only caused me to make more mistakes. I believe I spent more time retracing my steps and fixing my blunders than actually weaving...”

 “Well, the end result is breathtaking, and I mean that in the best of ways. Thank you so much!” Frisk praised her work as she carefully folded up the blanket, intending to place it on her bed once an opportunity to do so had made itself available.

 “The blanket should be big enough for two. Perfect for cuddling.” Muffet giggled, then turned a pointed glare towards Sans as she stood up. “And Sans, dearie? If I discover that you’ve stained it with ketchup in the future, I’ll strangle you in your sleep~”

 The spider lady then stepped away from the pair, in high spirits like the rest of her kin, leaving the two of them to process her words.

 Frisk simply saw her suggestive behavior towards them as Muffet being, well, Muffet. Sans, meanwhile, must have taken what she said more to heart, because a deep blue blush had covered his entire face, but he was grinning shyly as he took the blanket from her, putting it inside the box it came in and setting it safely to the side before placing her plate of food from earlier onto her lap.

 “eat the rest before it gets too cold to.” He ordered, seeming to have forgotten or at least pretended not to know that monster food didn’t cool down like human food did.

 Nevertheless, she did what was asked of her, otherwise he might decide to feed her again in front of everybody.

 “Sure, he clams up because of something silly that Muffet said, but when it comes to him shoveling food into my mouth, in public, that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest...” Frisk inwardly remarked, reflecting on the skeleton’s hypocrisy.

 They finished their lunch a while later, idle chatter between the two eventually filling in the awkward silence that the spider lady had left behind. On each occasion it seemed to Sans that Frisk was done when her plate wasn’t empty, he prepared himself to feed her again, giving her plenty of warning beforehand to coax her into eating everything in front of her. He continued to do this until it was cleared, the human girl sending him a grumpy glare once she had, to which he responded by pinching her cheek.

 “Jerkface.” That was the only thing she could think of to call him, as juvenile as she knew it was – he just smiled warmly at her.

 “i love you too.” He immediately replied before turning all the way around, appearing to Frisk as though he suddenly found the wallpaper extremely fascinating.

 “i can’t believe i just said that out loud, joking or not...” He thought, but the inner pride swelling in his ribcage for having finally said those sweet words that so often stirred inside his SOUL whenever he was with her won out over any shame and embarrassment he might have felt.

 This sense of satisfaction didn’t last long, unfortunately for him, and soon his insecurities and fears took over once again.

 Much to his relief, Toriel had made an appearance shortly after his little accidental declaration. Much to his chagrin, however, she came in the company of Flowey, otherwise dubbed by Sans as ‘that awful weed’.

 Flowey looked none too happy to be here as well, and the tiny wool winter beanie the queen had knitted for him which rested on his topmost petal did little to brighten the overall mood he was emanating, much less the matching sweater he also wore or the bright red bow wrapped around his pot.

 Frisk, on the contrary, thought he was adorable.

 “Awww!” She nearly squealed when she caught sight of him, momentarily abandoning Sans to coo over his attire. “Looks like somebody came ready for Gyftmas!”

 “Bah humbug.” He grumbled, but the faint blush that bloomed across his face didn’t escape her eye.

 What also didn’t escape her observation was the object that dangled over the doorway, directly above them. A clever idea came to her.

 “I apologize for his rudeness, my child.” Toriel gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s been in a sour mood all morning, I’m afraid.”

 Frisk supposed that he would be. This was very likely the first Gyftmas he would be taking part in after several long years of being a flower. The last time he had a proper Gyftmas was probably when he was the Underground’s prince, Asriel, and that had been a long, long time ago.

 “Well, if he’s gonna have that kind of attitude, then maybe I’ll just have to keep his present to myself until he learns better manners.” Frisk spoke as if he weren’t right there, but her tone was discernibly playful – he quickly perked up.

 “Well, don’t keep me in suspense!” He demanded as he impatiently wiggled his leaves, “Let me have it!”

 “oh, i’m gonna let him have it, alright...” Sans muttered under his breath, but Frisk elbowed him in the ribs and told him to shush.

 “Okay, but you have to close your eyes first!” The skeleton by her side raised a socket slightly at this, but said nothing, just stared at her inquisitively.

 “...Oh, fine... fine...” Flowey conceded defeat to her whims, closing his cartoonishly beady eyes as instructed.

 “And no peeking either!”

 “I won’t, I won’t!” He insisted complainingly.

 “Okay, now keep them shut...” She giggled, leaning in closer towards him, holding her breath before...

 “Mwah!” She smooched the flower, right on the mouth. “Mistletoe kiss!”

 “BLUH!!!” He sputtered, retreating backwards and staring at her with wild eyes, then began coughing, wheezing, and hacking as though he were dying. “Bleh! Bluh! Ptooey! Ugh...”

 The two women watched his theatrics with an amused glee; meanwhile Sans was sulking a few feet away, mumbling unintelligibly to himself.

 “ungrateful brat. would’a been over the moon if that’d been me...”

 A few more moments of spitting and spluttering passed before Toriel chose to speak up over her son-flower’s dramatic display of disgust.

 “Flowey, dear, you’ve made your point. That’s enough of that.” She chided him gently, placing a gentle paw over his head to give him a comforting pat.

 His mother’s warm and familiar touch calmed him considerably, but he was most definitely still sour over the trick.

 “And just what was that supposed to be?” He grumbled to Frisk, who was still smiling cheekily throughout the whole ordeal.

 “Affection!” She replied cheerfully.

 “Disgusting.”

 “Well, if that’s how your attitude’s gonna be today, then I’m just gonna have to give this-” A small gift box with a bow appeared before his round beady eyes, which she had somehow procured from behind her back despite there being no evidence of it having been there before, “to someone else, then.”

 His demeanor took an almost instantaneous shift; still displeased with her jokes, but far too eager to receive his gift to risk tempting Frisk’s patience with him, just in the unlikely but certainly possible case that she was actually serious about withholding his present privileges.

 Satisfied with his compliance, Frisk then placed the tiny box in front of Flowey, resting on the rim of his pot. Before she could begin to question just how he was going to open it without any fingers, or even hands for that matter, he immediately tore into his gift, quite literally, with his teeth. He ripped off the bow first and foremost and flung it to the side, hitting Sans directly in the face – it couldn’t have possibly hurt him, but he complained nonetheless.

 In just seconds, Flowey had stripped the box of all it’s wrappings and was free to lift the lid to the bare box lying underneath. Inside was... some sort of micro-sized controller, or that’s what it seemed to be to him and his observers.

 “It’s a Flowey-sized game controller!” Frisk explained happily, confirming the identity of his gift. “I asked Alphys to make it for you, since she and I thought it wasn’t really fair that you’re always at a disadvantage whenever we play together.”

 He stared down at the controller for the longest, then lifted it into his leaves with apparent wonder, taking a few moments to fiddle with the various buttons and other parts installed into it’s design. After a few seconds, a wide smile crossed his face – not one of his cruel, deranged ones, but a genuinely pleased and pleasant smile.

 And that was all the thanks Frisk could have ever asked from the prince turned sentient plant.

 Unfortunately, her friend Sans didn’t share the same thoughts.

 “i didn’t hear a ‘thank you’...” He all but grumbled, both of his arms crossed like a disappointed parent.

 “I’ll say it after I wipe the floor with you in Smash.” Flowey spoke matter-of-factly with a smug and satisfied smirk.

 A dark shadow crossed his face, and the skeleton suddenly leaned towards him to whisper something, “...yoshi committed tax fraud.”

 ...and that was when Frisk and Toriel knew they had to step in before this escalated to an incident.

 “HE DID NOT! STOP SPREADING YOUR LIES, SKELETON!!!” The buttercup more or less shrieked, struggling to free himself from his pot as Toriel quickly stepped several paces backwards.

 “I’ll talk to you later, Toriel.” Frisk said swiftly, wrapping her arms around Sans’s middle and dragging him away before he could make the situation between him and Flowey worse than it already was.

 “Can you go one day, one day without being a colossal butt?” She asked, already knowing the answer before he even opened his stupid mouth.

 “nope.”

 “See, I knew you were going to say that.” She sighed, more to herself than to him. “I didn’t even get the chance to give Toriel her gift, and all because you couldn’t play nice with Flowey for more than two seconds.”

 “sure, blame your bestest pal, sansy.” His tone remained jovial though, despite the blatant accusation that was also present. “here, just gimme the gift and i’ll get pap to deliver it. no sweat.”

 “But I wanted to see her face when she opened it...” Frisk whined, gazing down at the tiny box in her hand – inside was a snail shell pendant, the fragile mollusk casing cast in a layer of genuine rose gold on a matching delicate chain. “...And it’s all your fault.”

 “ok, ok... even though you’re being all cute and pouty about it, i can tell that you’re really upset with me.” He snatched the box from her hand before she could react, handing it off to Papyrus with just as much speed before turning back to her. “so, let me make it up to you. c’mon, put on your coat and boots and let’s head outside.”

 “Outside...?” She parroted, staring at the skeleton as though he had just spontaneously grown a second head. “Outside, as in, outside with all of that snow?”

 “hey, the weather’s calmed down a bunch since we’ve been here. see? it’s just fluttering down, completely harmless. so going out there now would be more like standing under a shower of white confetti.”

 He did have a point, Frisk acknowledged when she glanced out the window for herself. Aside from that, Sans seemed to be really eager about something, and while the probability of it being over a dumb, not to mention juvenile prank was extremely high, she enjoyed seeing him happy.

 So, a few minutes later, the human girl had donned her winter apparel and headed out of the house with him, quietly leaving the party without a word to make their way into her frosted over backyard garden.

 The pair sat on a bench in the middle of the area, directly in front of the frozen pond. Frisk had once pondered over purchasing some koi for it, but now she was glad she hadn’t. Just what does one do with the fish when winter came, anyway?

 “Okay, Sans. I can tell you’re giddy, so don’t even try denying it – don’t keep me in suspense, now.”

 “impatient, much?” He chuckled, but there was a noticeable bead of sweat trailing down his skull despite the surrounding temperature, and it seemed as though he were concealing something from her sight from within the pocket of his hoodie.

 He might have been able to hide the last thing from her, if only his hand hadn’t been fidgeting so much. It appeared that he was fumbling with the object, nervously running and drumming his phalanges over it every few seconds as if to ensure that it was still there. She had quite honestly never seen him like this, and it was both concerning to her, yet simultaneously fascinating.

 “here we go, moment of truth.” He spoke after a long pause, almost more to himself than to her. “hold out your hand.”

 At witnessing her hesitance, he assured her. “this isn’t some prank. i promise.”

 And at his usage of the ‘p’ word – promise, any doubts she may have previously been holding onto had instantly been vanquished and Frisk readily held out her hand, waiting. After a moment more, a small box was then placed into her open palm.

 “merry gyftmas, frisk...” Was all he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and could even be described as sweet.

 She glanced over the box, surveying its size.

 “...Is it a tiny whoopie cushion?”

 “nooooo...” Sans snorted, shaking his head. “if you want to know what’s inside so bad, then why not just... open it?”

 Deciding that she’d teased him for long enough, Frisk giggled softly, and gingerly lifted the lid to the box.

 To see the contents of the box, she had to push aside some tissue paper concealing the identity of her gift, but once this was done, what was revealed to her was some sort of clear ball, a bit bigger than the larger marbles one would sometimes find in a set of the glass toys. And visible within the ball was a small flower. Not a faux flower made of silk or some other fabric, but a real one that had been preserved in resin, its color a striking bright blue, so radiant it was almost glowing, no, it was glowing...

 It was an echo flower.

 Undoubtedly the tiniest echo flower she had ever laid eyes on.

 She gingerly lifted the preserved echo flower from its box, discovering a long silver chain was attached to it.

 Sans had gotten her a necklace. She never, not once would have ever expected him to present her with jewelry – he just didn’t seem like that sort of guy.

 That wasn’t to say that he was cheap with his gifts, no, far from it, in fact. But this gesture went so beyond the unexpected that Frisk was left speechless. She needed to say something, and soon, otherwise Sans will believe that he had failed in some shape or form when the reality was, this just may be one of the most precious items she had ever received.

 “Sans... it’s not really something I condone, picking favorites, I mean, but...” She smiled, the sort of one that always sent the skeleton monster’s SOUL spinning, and held up the pendant with pride. “This is, without a doubt, the best thing I’ve received today. It’s beautiful.”

 “aww... you’re just saying that.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

 “I am not!” She insisted, standing up. “And I’m going to put it on. Right now!”

 “here, let me.” He immediately leapt to his own feet and took the necklace from her grasp, unfastening the chain before looping it around her neck.

 Both of his arms were wrapped around her as he fumbled with the clasp, struggling to refasten the pendant. At least, that was what he led Frisk to believe. Even in their current position, he could have easily secured the two ends of the chain, if he so wished. But that wasn’t what he wished, so he didn’t – not yet.

 To any passerby that may have witnessed the two, it would appear as though they were an embracing couple, and that’s precisely what Sans wanted to believe they were, even if only for this moment in time. He was too much of a coward, too filled with insecurity and doubt to hold her so tenderly against him in a more direct manner.

 So, he would prolong this moment for as long as possible, or as long as Frisk would allow him to.

 “hehe... silly thing just won’t... it’s like my phalanges are coated in butter.” He pretended to struggle with the two ends of the necklace’s chain once more. “just give me a few more seconds, frisk.”

 She missed the near pleading tone present in the last line that he spoke.

 “Maybe this would have been easier if you stood behind me instead...?” She suggested, raising an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it – his head was resting on her shoulder so he could see what he was doing with the chain’s clasp.

 “maybe, but i’ve got this.” He fumbled with it for a few seconds longer, then finally put a silent end to the charade, thus ending their impromptu embrace.

 He took a step back and took in the sight of his handiwork – the echo flower pendant rested directly over her heart and SOUL, just where he wanted it to be.

 “there’s something special about that echo flower, though. it isn’t just there to look pretty.” A fierce blue blush was slowly creeping and spreading up and across his skull. “you remember what they’re famous for, right? give it a little tap. might need two or three to work, but give it a try.”

 “Sans... am I gonna hear the sound of one of your whoopie cushions if I do?”

 “do i really seem like the sort of weirdo that would do that?” He inquired, and honestly, not only was it exactly something that he might do, it sounded like a hilarious idea, but he wasn’t about to ruin such a sentimental gesture with such a cheap prank.

 “...Yes.”

 “it’s not another whoopie cushion prank, frisk.” Then he quickly added, with a strong sense of sincerity in his voice. “it’s not any kind of prank at all.”

 Satisfied with his reply, she did as he previously instructed and gave the pendant a few short and swift taps, then waited.

 The flower, despite being trapped inside the glass, glowed just a bit brighter, then...

 “take care of yourself, frisk... because someone really cares about you...”

 She recognized and remembered those words well. She had heard them before, after all, towards the end of her journey in the Underground. He had spoken those very same words to her in New Home’s Judgement Hall, but there were two stark differences when comparing the sentence from then and now, one of them obviously being the use of her name, as he nor any other monster bore knowledge of the final fallen human’s name.

 However, the intonation of the familiar phrase had changed as well – it was quieter, softer, fonder than when he said it in the past.

 “...you’ve done so much for us, frisk.” Sans spoke after a meaningful pause. “...and you’re still doing things for us. you... you really care about us monsters. it’s undeniable. you’ve even accomplished the impossible – the barrier trapping us underground broke, and i know you had something to do with it, even if i’m still not completely sure how it was possible, or if the specifics are even really important now.”

 He sat back down on the bench, patting the spot next to him and urging her to do the same.

 “you just keep on making things better, turning our most insane of fantasies into reality in the present when a whole lot of us back then were so hopeless to the point that some of us were seriously considering... giving up. i just... i think about everything that you’ve done for us, every single day, sometimes even all day, ever since i met you, and, well... i just started to wonder; do you know how much you’re cared for?”

 He let out a soft chuckle, closing his sockets and throwing all his inhibitions to the side.

 “i know the others are grateful, but i still can’t speak for any of them. i’m just sans the skeleton, after all. but... if the question being asked is, ‘does sans the skeleton care about frisk the human, our ambassador, our savior?’ then the answer is, ‘yeah, he does’. frisk, when i said ‘someone really cares about you’, that someone was supposed to be me. i care about you. a whole lot. i guess you could even say i care a skele-ton. ...i’m just sorry it took me so long to say it, but that’s how i really feel. i just wanted you to know that.”

 When he finally mustered the courage to face Frisk again, he was flustered to find her sniffling, nearly sobbing into her mittens.

 “...i’m sorry. all that was really stupid, wasn’t it?” Sans somehow felt that her reaction was negative, and that it was his fault.

 “No. No, no, no, no. No...” She choked out, but when she lifted the cloth-clad hand away from her mouth, he spotted a shaky smile on her lips. “That... That was... just so... I just... I don’t know what to say... Just give me a few minutes, I’m sorry...”

 She managed to compose herself quickly enough, Sans patting her on the back and still feeling lousy for making her cry. Once all of her quaking and hiccupping had ceased, she gave the skeleton a look that he recognized as determined.

 “Sans, I have one last gift for you.”

 “one more?” He blinked owlishly. “frisk, you’re... you’re really spoiling me here.”

 “This has been something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while, now. I just wasn’t sure when, or if it was even conceivable at all, but...”

 “frisk, you aren’t making any sense.”

 “Just... wait here. I’ll be right back.”

 She didn’t return to the house like he thought she would. No, she stepped into the little shed about ten feet away from the bench, then returned a few seconds later holding a white package with a bright red ribbon resting on top. She gently placed the present into his waiting lap, then sat next to him again with a long, almost weary sigh.

 “Open it.” She demanded, throwing Sans slightly off guard with how uncharacteristic it was of her to do so.

 But Sans still felt the need to mess with her a little before he complied.

 “is iiiiiiit...” He tilted the box left to right, then right to left, listening for any shifting noises inside. “...a pair of green shorts with purple-flower print?!”

 “...You want a pair of Patrick Star’s trunks?”

 “hey, i’d wear ‘em.”

 “I have no doubt that you would.” She eyed those burger-covered monstrosities called kneesocks still covering his legs – Frisk almost couldn’t believe that he wore them to the party and was still wearing them; almost...

 “okay, that’s enough fooling around.” He unraveled the ribbon with one swift tug, the lid to the box gone in the blink of an eye.

 Sans peered inside the blackness of the box...

 Reset...?

 Those yellow letters stared back at him, that word and the sensation it brought, the thing he had learned to expect and fear through the horrific experience of being trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of mercy and violence by a being untouchable by time, was right before his very eye sockets.

 His head whipped up to face Frisk, his grin gone and his expression eerily blank.

 “It’s yours now.”

 It took him ages to respond.

 “.........wh-what?”

 “It’s yours now. The RESET button? It’s yours.”

 “...why did you think this would mean anything to me?” He spoke softly, sockets narrowing down to slits. “how did you know this would mean anything to me?”

 “I knew giving you this would open up an endless plethora of questions...” Frisk sighed to herself resignedly. “Here’s the short answer: the previous owner told me.”

 “the... previous... owner...” He repeated those words to himself, yet he still didn’t seem to understand them – his mind was fading to white.

 “I had a suspicion, for a long while now, that this meant something to you. That you were... more aware than you let on at times. And he- they, confirmed it for me. This button... it’s caused you a lot of trauma and heartache, even if you can’t remember all of it. And perhaps that’s for the best, really. I don’t know everything myself, but... I’ve heard enough, and my imagination is more than enough to fill in the rest of the story for me, even if I don’t want it too.”

 “papyrus... he... he died.” He whispered brokenly, holding his skull in his hands as he hunched forward. “over and over and over again. i can’t remember how or why, but i just know that he did. he shouldn’t be here now, a lot of us shouldn’t be here now, i probably shouldn’t be here now, alive, but i am. we all are...”

 “Sans, there’s nothing in the world I can say or do to produce any proof that what I’m saying is the truth and force you to believe me, but I never hurt anyone. The damage was already done by the time I came along.”

 “then who did it, huh? who killed my brother and everyone else?” Sans nearly spat, causing Frisk to flinch – what she didn’t know was, his spite wasn’t directed towards her at all; he was suspicious, yes, but...

 “I... I can’t say. Because I made a promise that I wouldn’t. But... this person, they’re very sorry for what they did in the past now, in the present. They want to make amends, to atone, but don’t know how or even if such a thing could ever be possible. Once again, I have no proof that what I’m saying is the truth, but this, it was our idea. They agreed to it, Sans, that it was only fair for you, the one most affected by this, to be the one to gain ownership of it – the RESET button.”

 “............”

 “I’ll answer any questions that you may have, about the past timelines, to the best of my abilities. Just as long as they’re not about the previous owner. But I never hurt anyone, Sans.”

 “......I know that.” He whispered.

 “You do?” She replied, deadpan.

 “i do. you don’t have to explain anything to me, frisk. i believe you.”

 She had expected him to fire off at least a million questions a millisecond, to be subjected to an interrogation, maybe even a trial by fire (with Grillby serving as the fire), or something, but not... whatever this was.

 Just... quiet acceptance that her word was the truth.

 “look... this other person, the one that had the reset button before you, i already knew about ‘em before, frisk. it’s true that when i first met you, i thought you had something to do with the resets, and i was sorta right, but not in the way i first thought. that’s why... that’s why, sometimes, i wasn’t as helpful as i could have been, not as kind as i should’ve been. the resentment that i felt for something that was beyond my control but in someone else’s, there were occasions where i took it out on you. i couldn’t understand how you could just, hurt all of us like that, and then go right back to being friends with us, like nothing ever happened, reset or not.”

 One of Sans’s skeletal hands reached up to cup her cheek, surprising her.

 “but then the more time i spent with you, i realized that some things just didn’t add up. and now i know why – you never did hurt us. i was blaming you for something that was never your fault in the first place.”

 “But you’re wrong about that, Sans – I did hurt you. I did use the RESET button. I never did hurt anyone in any of the timelines, but... you have to understand, Sans, it took me several tries to reach this ending.”

 “that doesn’t matter now.” To Frisk’s immense shock, he actually smiled, not grinned, but smiled. “whatever you may or may not have done in the past, you’ve more than made up for it with everything you’ve done in this timeline.” He patted the side of the box containing the thing he once dreaded and loathed “...including this right here.”

 “It’s your power now, Sans. At first, I considered destroying it and putting the pieces in the box as your gift. ...But then I thought that wasn’t fair to you, either. So it’s all up to you from this point onward. The decision of whether or not there’ll ever be another RESET rests all on your shoulders, because I’m satisfied with how everything’s turned out. Everyone’s happy now, and that’s all that ever mattered to me in the first place, alongside staying alive. I’m so sorry if my methods of achieving this result put you through any turmoil, though.”

 “frisk, i understand and forgive you, but... this other person, though. they may be sorry, but you also have to understand that i can’t forgive them. not unless they apologize to my face for everything they put me, paps, and the others through – even if i am the only one that has any memory left, no matter how small it is, and can comprehend just what happened then.”

 “They want to apologize to you, Sans. Desperately. They’re just... afraid to.”

 “well, tell ‘em i’m ready to listen whenever they’re ready to start talking.”

 “I’ll pass that on, Sans. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you will get an apology sooner or later.”

 “frisk, i...” He spoke after another long moment of stillness between them, clutching the box tightly. “i just... you don’t even know how much this means to me...”

 “You’re right. I don’t know, and maybe I never will, but... I can imagine. Imaging how much suffering you went through. And I won’t force you to talk about your experience, but if you ever want to, I’m here. I’ll listen.”

 That’s when whatever was left of Sans’s stoic façade faded. Frisk held out her arms, anticipating such a reaction for the last few moments, and he immediately flung himself into her hold. He sobbed into her shoulder, every single emotion he had been repressing since he came to the conclusion that he was enclosed in a vicious cycle spanning across time-space was released. She was simultaneously the first and the last person Sans ever wanted to see him like this.

 Frisk didn’t judge him for his outburst, no, she never would. His human was far too kind for that. She simply held him while he cried, stroking the back of his skull and patiently waited for the flow of tears to ebb, not caring in the slightest if they soaked her sweater. Several minutes passed like this, perhaps even hours, but Frisk never gave any indication that she wished to move. Eventually though, Sans did compose himself.

 “oh... ohhhh gosh...” His words possessed a slight slur. “that was so embarrassing...”

 “No, it wasn’t. You held all of that in for far too long.”

 “um, speaking of holding things in, frisk...” He began, but much to his surprise, Frisk just huffed.

 “Really, Sans? You’re going to make a fart joke after all this?”

 “really, frisk?” He mocked, actually feeling somewhat offended. “is that all i am to you? a bag of misery borne of time-space-related trauma, barely together bones, and ill-timed fart jokes?”

 “...Pretty much, yeah.” She replied after a beat, but her tone and expression clearly conveyed that she was joking. “In all seriousness, though, what was it that you wanted to say?”

 “well... this is something that i’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, but didn’t, because, well... i thought there was no point in it since i thought i didn’t have a future. but, uh, now that i know i do, there’s, um, literally nothing stopping me now, except for myself, that is. i...” He took a deep, deep breath, then sputtered all at once, “ohgoshimactuallydoingthiswaitnoicantdothisohmygo-”

 “Sans, don’t push yourself! It’s okay! Nobody’s forcing you to say anything!” Frisk almost panicked as she watched him choke and hyperventilate.

 “no, frisk; this is something i’ve gotta do!” He insisted, hands fluttering over his ribcage and spasming in different directions – if she didn’t know any better, the girl would say he was doing a killer impression of Burgerpants...

 Before she was forced to listen to Sans make any more chicken noises, the sound of what could only be described as peacocks screaming filled the air, along with the distinct crash of what was unmistakably the sound of a window shattering. The ‘peacocks’ were Mettaton and Julian screeching, and when Frisk turned her head in the direction of her house, she saw one long leg sticking out of the snow surrounded by a ring of glass.

 “Frisk, darling! I’m SO, SO, SORRYYYYYYY!!!” The robot nearly wailed. “I’ll pay for the damages; I promise I will!”

 “No, I’ll pay for the window! Agreeing to engage this fool in a dance contest was my idiotic idea in the first place!” Julian immediately added after, causing the two to squabble over who was more remorseful and who would get to repay their ambassador.

 “Sans, this is gonna have to wait until later. I have to deal with this, apparently.” Frisk patted his shoulder then offered him a hand. “You coming?”

 “nah, i think i’ll stay out here for a little while longer. maybe use some magic on these dark circles under my sockets, you know, so nobody knows i was bawling.”

 “Okay, but if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m coming back out to check on you.” Yet another crash, followed by several more screams permeated the once quiet winter air. She groaned, then gave her echo flower pendant a few flicks to trigger the message Sans had recorded. “I know they care too, but I wish they cared like you do. You never break any windows.”

 “just because i haven’t doesn’t mean i won’t.” He grinned.

 Frisk narrowed her eyes, causing him to snort at her expression.

 “...Take some time to think about what you just said, with the screams of those two flamboyant idiots in there as your soundtrack.”

 She stomped off towards the house, and as Sans watched her retreating figure, despite the cold around him, he was left with a feeling of warmth, contentment. His SOUL felt light and fluttery, fluffy as the falling snow.

 He held the box closer towards himself, its contents something he once hated, but now loved – because it was given to him by the human he loved...

 Sans felt another round of sniffles begin, but now he was crying for an entirely different reason – he felt happy.

“if i didn’t love her before... stars, i sure do now.”

[softwired]

snake tattoo

fandom ◦ MDZS pairing ◦ SangCheng rating ◦ General word count ◦ 459

read on Ao3

Jiang Cheng had a snake tattoo. It was hidden away under his shirt most of the time (he was the kind of guy who never wore a shirt without sleeves) but since they’d started dating, Nie Huaisang was able to get a good look at it any time he wanted to.

“A-Sang.” Even a term of endearment could sound threatening coming from Jiang Cheng’s mouth.

“Relax, I just want to admire you a little.”

They were lounging on the couch in Jiang Cheng’s apartment, his living room maturely furnished but painfully spartan. The only impractical thing he owned was a 50” 4k TV that practically let you taste the claggy crumbs when watching the Great British Baking Show.

Jiang Cheng scowled, but Huaisang was close enough to feel the heat radiating off his blushing ears, so he ignored his boyfriend’s protests and kept unbuttoning his wrinkled dress shirt with one hand.

Jiang Cheng pretended he wasn’t being stripped, looking directly ahead and taking a slightly off-target sip from his beer. He felt the goosebumps rising over Jiang Cheng’s skin when he slid his palm under the loosened collar and pushed it down off his shoulder. Huaisang really had just wanted to take another look at the tattoo, maybe use it to draw some inspiration for his next art project. But Jiang Cheng’s bashful act was too enticing, leaving him with no choice but to take the shirt completely off. He was still wearing an undershirt, anyway. To anyone but Jiang Cheng that could count as still being fully clothed.

He draped the dress shirt over the back of the couch, within reach if Jiang Cheng suddenly fell into a self-conscious panic.

It was a beautiful tattoo. The snake undulated across his shoulder, passing through lotus stalks and flowers as it slithered from beneath his toned bicep to the dip and rise at the base of his neck. Its scales were washed in blue and violet tones, dark amidst a backdrop of elegant green lotus leaves and softly shaded pink flowers. Huaisang ran his hand over it, sure to be firm enough that it didn’t feel like a ticklish or teasing caress.

“Do you always use your hands to look at things?” Jiang Cheng sniped. Huaisang snorted.

“Only when they’re really—” he inched forward, “—really—” close enough to smell Jiang Cheng’s aftershave and notice he’d started holding his breath, “—beautiful.” He gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and fell back to his previous position. Jiang Cheng exhaled loudly.

“Idiot,” he said.

Huaisang hummed happily, going back to memorizing his boyfriend’s tattoo with his fingers. “If you’re in love with an idiot, what does that say about you?”

“I’m an even bigger idiot,” Jiang Cheng replied without hesitation.