#not joking when i say i genuinely started hallucinating from the lack of sleep. my ocd obsessive thoughts are relentless!!! 😍

[cockquettebelle]

how i feel after pulling multiple all-nighters in a row just to finish reading every rosekiller/dorlene piece of media on this website

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - When he sleep talks

Original title: 当他说梦话

Original author: 君兮耶君兮

[ VICTOR ]

It’s nighttime, and Victor is sound asleep beside you. With a practised hand, you feel for your phone from underneath the pillow. Tapping open the e-novel application, you start “committing a crime”.

Since he has repeatedly prohibited you from staying up late to use your phone, you carefully scrutinise Victor’s actions, deathly afraid that he’d suddenly wake up and catch you red-handed.

“Dummy...”

The rustling of fabric drifts from behind you as Victor turns over. A large hand wraps itself around your waist, and you instinctively lock your phone and hide it beneath your pillow, pretending to be asleep.

A long time passes without any further movements from the person behind you. Turning your head slightly to observe the situation, you discover that he’s still asleep. What happened earlier was simply him sleep talking. Relieved, you feel for your phone again, continuing with your little antics.

Soon after, the person behind you begins to mumble again. “It’s not that I don’t like you.”

Your finger pauses on the screen. You seem to have heard something interesting? As someone in the media industry, the acuteness in your DNA causes you to tap on the recorder app to capture what’s going on.

Victor’s chin rests against your head. Cushioned on his arm, you can clearly hear what he’s saying. “I’ll always like you.”

“Who?” You whisper.

“Dummy.” He responds quickly. If you hadn’t verified it earlier, you might have suspected that he wasn’t sleeping at all.

The corners of your lips curl into a slight smile. Closing the recorder app, you place your phone down. Scooting backwards against him, you sink into a peaceful sleep.

-

While Victor is preparing breakfast the next day, you lift your hand and wave your phone in front of him triumphantly. “Victor, you confessed to me last night!”

He cracks an egg into the frying pan. Hearing what you said, he remains unaffected as he continues to cook. “You had a dream?”

“No, it’s the truth!” 

You knew he wouldn’t believe you, which is why you had the recording prepared.

“...”

After hearing it, Victor turns off the fire. He takes your phone to check its veracity, then returns it to you with a glance and a dry laugh. “You recorded this at 1.13am. Looks like a certain someone slept pretty late last night.”

Your heart sinks, and you completely forget about the recording as you retort. “No I didn’t! You saw wrongly!”

How could he not understand you? While he metes out the punishment, he places a plate of warm omelette into your hands. “From tonight onwards, you’ll sleep half an hour earlier than before. You’ll also give your phone to me.”

[ GAVIN ]

If you hadn’t witnessed it personally, you never would have believed that the all-powerful Officer Gavin would turn into a clingy little wolf at night.

-

Returning from a mission, Gavin manages to fall into a deep sleep when it’s still relatively early. Grabbing a book, you sit on the bed to keep him company. Reaching out to cover him with a blanket, you suddenly hear Gavin’s voice.

“I want a hug.”

Finding this humorous, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. As though you’re coaxing a child, you pat him on the back. “Here you go.”

“Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.” You aren’t sure what he’s dreaming about, but his brows are tightly knit, and he seems uneasy.

This causes your heart to ache, and you respond gently. “Silly Gavin. I won’t leave you.”

Perhaps hearing this assurance, Gavin presses himself against you. After a while, he clicks his tongue, muttering hazily. “I want a homemade bento.”

This is the first time Gavin is asking for a bento directly. Before, he always dropped hints along the lines of, “Sometimes, my colleagues would bring homemade bentos”. You feel tickled by this. A childish Officer Gavin is especially adorable, and adorable children always get special treatment. “Okay, I’ll prepare it for you tomorrow.”

Gavin mumbles to himself softly. “The dishes in the canteen aren’t as delicious as what you make.”

Your smile falls. Didn’t he mention that STF doesn’t have a canteen? 

Putting on a professional smile, you lean closer to him and whisper into his ear. “Gavin, what’s the salary of the aunties working in the STF canteen?”

“$620 a month.” Gavin responds without hesitation.

“Good. Very good.” You straighten up, smiling wryly as you flip to the next page of the book, as though nothing had happened.

-

“I’m off.” Gavin gives you a goodbye kiss, his spirits high as he heads out of the door carrying an exquisitely wrapped bento box.

“Be safe!” Your smile is the same as every morning.

“Gav, what delicious food did she prepare for you today?” Eli pulls Tang Chao over so he can experience the pain of being single too.

Mentioning the homemade bento brings a smile to Gavin’s eyes. While responding, he opens up the bento. “I don’t know either. She was really secretive about it in the morning, and said I should only look at it at noon...” 

Very soon, he isn’t able to continue smiling. Slices of green bitter gourd are neatly laid out in the box. Aside from that, there’s nothing else inside.

“HAHAHAHA. Does sis-in-law want to help relieve your internal heat?” Eli chuckles boisterously, and Tang Chao’s shoulders tremble from suppressing his laughter.

The chopsticks in Gavin’s hand are on the verge of snapping. As they continue rubbing salt into his wound, the chopsticks curve.

He shoots them a glare. “Get out!”

“Gav, don’t murder your squad mates!”

[Trivia] One of Gavin’s “Go See Him” lines is - “There isn’t a canteen in STF, but the nearby eateries aren’t bad.”

However, in an official post about Loveland City, it’s revealed that there IS a canteen. This has been a running joke in the CN community because we still don’t know if it’s a mistake by Papergames or if Gavin really lied to MC so that she’d make him bentos (っ˘ω˘ς )

[ LUCIEN ]

Mr Lucien has always lacked a sense of security, and this is something you’re well aware of. However, the vulnerabilities he reveals to you are mostly meant to tease you, or used to stir up sympathy. You can only get a glimpse of his genuine unease after Lucien falls asleep.

“Mm...” Lucien’s eyes are shut tight, as though he’s having a nightmare.

Since you drank a cup of milk tea before heading to bed, you aren’t drowsy at all. Sensing Lucien’s movements, you pat the large hand wrapped around your waist. “What’s wrong?” you whisper.

Thinking that Lucien is feeling uncomfortable due to the heat, you attempt to put some distance between the both of you. However, the arm around your waist tightens. Not knowing if he’s awake or not, you don’t dare to move much.

Lucien embraces his treasure as he mumbles to himself. “My... Little Butterfly belongs only to me...”

You smile in resignation. Lucien has always been stubborn when it comes to staking his claim on something. This doesn’t upset you. In fact, you have the impulse to tease him even though he’s asleep. “Really?”

“We’ll see who dares to snatch you away.” Lucien’s brows furrow even more, dyeing his expression with an intimidating aura.

Having a bad feeling that you accidentally stepped on a landmine, you decide to soothe the atmosphere so that Professor Lucien wouldn’t feel troubled in his sleep. Before you can do so, you hear a dry chuckle. “A collaborative partner? Hmph.”

The threatening tone in his voice causes you to tremble, and an iciness travels up your spine and into your brain. You instinctively tense up, and you decide to wake him up.

“Lu...”

“Pete, could you bring me that box of scalpels?” His gloomy voice makes him seem like an entirely different person. “Little Butterfly, you can only be mine. Forever.”

You shut your mouth. The Ultima Bioresearch Centre measures its scalpels in boxes?

Sensing your movements, Lucien opens his eyes slowly. In the haze of drowsiness, he kisses your hair while speaking with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Your survival instincts cause you to shrink your neck backwards, and you nuzzle into the arms of the big fox. “Goodnight.”

[ KIRO  ]

“Miss... Chips...”

A soft mumble rouses you from the world of novels. Turning your head, you watch as Kiro is sprawled on the bed, quietly tugging the blanket over his bare chest.

Kiro nuzzles the pillow with a slight frown. It seems as if he’s dreaming about something troubling. “Miss Shrimp Strips...”

Your fingers pause on the screen when you hear this familiar yet unfamiliar term of address. Although the both of you often eat shrimp strips, he has never called you “Miss Shrimp Strips”. Does Kiro have another snack in his life?

Thinking of this possibility, your expression turns cold, and you decide to observe further. After waiting for such a long time that you start to doubt if you were merely hallucinating earlier, he finally speaks. “Miss Drumstick...”

Okay. You didn’t mishear earlier. There’s a Miss Drumstick now.

“Miss Popcorn...”

It’s said that dreams portray the most genuine reflections of reality. What one thinks about in the morning is what one dreams about at night. You never imagined that Kiro would be this sneaky in his dreams. Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to him.

The arm of justice reaches out to the unsuspecting Kiro. The second before his head is ripped off, he suddenly twitches, giving you a fright and causing you to pause.

“No! All of you are fakes!” His voice carries with it a sense of righteousness.

There’s a dramatic twist in his dream?

Kiro releases a “hmph”. He shakes off the blanket with a hand before exclaiming, “I, Kiro Bohu, will find the genuine Miss Chips!’

You burst into laughter. If you’d known earlier, you wouldn’t have forced him to watch “Tang Bohu Spots Autumn Fragrance" with you earlier. Covering him with the blanket properly, you pat his golden coloured hair. “Your Miss Chips is right here.”

As though he’s able to hear this, Kiro curls his four limbs as he nuzzles against you. “Mm... Miss Chips...”

“Goodnight, Mr Chips.”

[ SHAW ]

“Tsk.”

A noise sounds in the quiet and still room, causing your fingers to pause. Did he realise that you’re staying up? You quickly turn around to look at Shaw behind you. 

At this moment, his eyes are shut tight, his breathing is even, and he doesn’t seem to be awake. You heave a sigh of relief. As long as you don’t get caught, you'd continue using your phone.

“What’s that?”

Another sound drifts over, but it sounds a little unhappier than before.

“What’s what?” You find yourself responding instinctively after growing accustomed to retorting him.

Shaw purses his lips, and he appears to be having an unpleasant dream. You shift a little further away, afraid that he’d progress from simply retorting to whacking you.

Shaw turns over, unable to break free from his dream. “Dragonfly Eye. Don’t lose it again.”

“Your dream’s pretty exaggerated.” You roll your eyes. You’ve only lost the Dragonfly Eye once - and it was 99% due to a certain someone’s “assistance”.

Shaw doesn’t seem to have had his fill yet. He adds another grumble.

“Silly woman.”

The familiar term of address leaves absolutely no doubt that his current dream involves you. You take a deep breath. “Carry on if you dare!”

“Stupid.” 

Even when he’s asleep, Shaw is the same as when he’s awake, meeting you head-on.

Fuming, you give him a kick to the butt, sending him off the bed.

Shaw is startled awake. He scans his surroundings in confusion, then covers his injured area while standing up, gritting his teeth. “What’s up with you!”

You respond with a glare. “You insulted me! Twice! You pig!”

Shaw, who was kicked awake but has no idea what happened: ???

More translated and original works: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: Can, just state the author and the source

[starlightinhumanform]

24/7: Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Platonic Demus, Platonic Logicality 

Summary: James (aka Janus) works the graveyard shift at a open-all-night convenience store. Logan is a college student who stays up way too late, way too often. While pulling all-nighters, he often visits the store James works at. As time goes on, James begins to care about Logan as more than just a customer. 

Warnings: Moderate Language, Some suggestive jokes, Mentions of ignorant/negative sentiments regarding vitiligo, Mentions of intoxication— some implied to be underage (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: College AU, Coffeeshop AU but weird (that’s literally the best way i can think of describing it), Mutual Feelings, Fluff 

A/N: — Janus’ name in this AU is James (mostly because when I began planning this, his name hadn’t been revealed). I may still include his name by writing in a name-change but we’ll see lmao — I do not have vitiligo and do not personally know anyone with vitiligo; Janus’ experience with the condition is based entirely on my research. That being said, I did my best to give an accurate representation but I do not claim that it is flawless in anyway. If there are any improvements you think I can make in this area, please please let me know 🖤🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3   Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

James’ first shift started normally. That is, as normally as he could assume 24 hour convenience store shifts could be. It’s not like he had much experience with it.

Being his first day, he had assumed that the manager would’ve at least stuck around for a while. Instead, the woman had pointed out the bathroom plunger— advising him to not let anyone steal it— told him how to use the slushie machine, and said that if someone tried to rob the store, let them take the money; she even showed him the quickest way to open the cash register. Then she left within the first hour of James’ shift.

James didn’t mind being alone but he couldn’t fight down the frustration at his manager for abandoning him without actually telling him anything useful. He kept worrying that someone would ask a question that he couldn’t answer. What if the customer got angry and then he got reported and lost his job on the first night? Not to mention every time someone walked in, he was ready to bargain for his life with the $225.67 and a random condom in the cash register.

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.  

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.  

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 3

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 3.9k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s still beyond me that I told the famous actor Henry Cavill that his dog is kinda fat. The entire time from three till six a.m. was a dream to be honest. I noticed the second he walked in how handsome this man looked, not realizing he was Henry Cavill, though I thought he looked familiar. His curls were disheveled, his coat hung open and he looked pretty out of it, something that is completely understandable. However, he wasn’t just a snack—this man is a full course meal.

When he placed his dog on the examination table and stared at Kal with that concerned look on his face, was also the exact moment I felt something crumble deep inside of me. The aversion I had against all men (minus the one and only Keanu Reeves of course) was falling apart. I felt so stupid for thinking about him and how handsome he looked. Two days later, I still feel stupid.

He is a client with a dog who was sick. Had the other clinics picked up, I wouldn’t even know how handsome he was in real life. And on top of that, he is not just any client. He is Henry Cavill. The Henry Cavill, with an ass that looks good on screen, but even better in real life.

Yes, I looked. I’m still a person with a pulse who lets her mind wander from time to time and his butt definitely is part of my dreams nowadays.

Though I let my fantasies take me to certain places with Henry, I couldn’t help but turn into a soft pile of mush, as I watched him hold Vanessa in his thick arms, allowing her to play with his curls. I watched him listen intently as she started counting from one to hundred. He listened from the first number to the last and seemed genuinely impressed.

It’s rare to find a man who is willing to give a young child his full attention. In those six years I’ve been raising Vanessa, he is the first one that I encountered that is like that.

A quick Google search while he was chatting with Vanessa told me he was single. Somehow I stumbled upon multiple articles saying that he really wants a family of his own.

My mind almost wanted to think about how maybe… He could become someone important for Vanessa, because he was such a natural and the older Vanessa gets, the more I think that she needs a male figure in her life. Since she has reached the age of five, she has been bugging me about having a dad. The years prior to that moment, I was perfectly capable of being both the mother and the father. At least that’s what I thought. I came to the bitter conclusion that I’m her mother and that is it.  

But then I also realized that I should keep one one thing in mind:

Henry Cavill is dying to have a family of his own.

And Vanessa is not his own.

I want to think about something else, but I can’t. I simply can’t stop thinking about Henry Cavill and his strong arms. I’m convinced I was hallucinating when I thought he was flexing his arm muscles, when he carried Kal.

When I told Belle about this, she began rambling something about how that man oozes family man and how he makes her ovaries shake and ache for babies. I shrugged it off, thinking she was being ridiculous, but now…

I never thought I’d meet someone else. I knew that I’d be raising Vanessa by myself, though I secretly wished she wasn’t born to a single mom, who obviously had no idea what she was doing. I wished that she was born into a happy family, with a mother, a father, siblings, uncles and aunts and grandparents, but that wasn’t the case, so I tried my best to give her the best life I could possible provide for her.

And I shouldn’t think about Henry Cavill like that. I know for a fact that he has already forgotten about me and my daughter.

However it’s hard to forget about him. Especially since Vanessa can’t shut her mouth about how amazing Superman is and how he is the strongest man on earth because he carried his overweight dog into the clinic with no problem.

Vanessa and I walk back home, after I picked her up on Monday. ‘Nobody believed I met Superman,’ she says. For a second I’m afraid she is defeated, but then she simply shrugs. ‘But I know better than that.’

That’s my girl. ‘Very good, sweetie.’

‘Miss Sue send me out of class today,’ Vanessa then says.

‘Why?’ This isn’t the moment to become the overprotective mother goose. This is the moment to let her tell me in all honesty what happened.

‘I wasn’t doing what she told me to do. We had to read four pages out loud with the class, but Nicky is really slow, so I read the next page by myself, while I wasn’t supposed to.’

‘But why did she send you out?’ I ask.

‘Because I did it four times.’

‘Right,’ I say. What do I say about this? I understand my daughter completely, because I used to do the same. Besides, I think miss Sue is a bit uptight to be honest. I don’t like miss Sue. She’s always pretty condescending to me, probably because she’s ancient and thinks a child should have both a mother and a father, like the perfect housewives do.

I really hate every parent who has a kid going to that school, but on top of my hate list, is miss Sue.

When Vanessa senses my lack of reaction, she says: ‘I made you another drawing.’

I prepare myself for the well known drawing, that I can dream by now, but all the air is knocked out of my lungs when I see what she drew me today. I stop in the middle of the curb, earning me some annoyed groans from two old ladies who were apparently walking behind me, but I don’t care. I really couldn’t care less at the moment.

Oh my God, what is it with this kid and desperately wanting a father?

Okay, now I get that she wants a dad, I do, but did she honestly have to draw a Superman and a dog (where she wrote underneath KAL) inside of our house? Superman stands next to me and she tried to make it look like Superman and I are holding hands.

Oh my God, what goes on inside Vanessa’s head?

‘What did you draw?’ I ask her, though I know exactly what she drew.

‘My new daddy.’ She smiles, revealing the empty gap where her tooth was this morning, but it fell out during recess today. It’s her third tooth and I’m too much of a realist to tell her about the Tooth Fairy, since I had severe nightmares about that. She doesn’t care about the Tooth Fairy being fake (but she had to promise me to play along when kids in school talked about it), only about the money that I have to give her.

‘Your new what?’ I ask her.

‘My new daddy,’ she says. She pretends like she is talking to an idiot, but that attitude is apparently something she saw me doing and made it a personality trait of herself, since Belle once said that she is just as sassy as I am.

‘You can’t just declare every man you meet as your new dad,’ I tell her.

‘But I haven’t asked for a new daddy in so long,’ she says and to be fair, that’s true. The only thing she does, is draw me the same picture daily with the exception of today. ‘I want Superman to be my new daddy.’

‘It’s an impossible wish.’

‘But I want him as my new dad,’ she says, stomping her foot on the ground.

This is the moment she chooses to have a temper tantrum? Great, just what I need after a long day of not putting one pet to sleep, but three. ‘Vanessa, I’m not having this conversation with you. That man is not going to be your new dad.’

Am I telling her this or myself?

‘Why not?’ she whines.

‘Because not every man you like can be your new dad, so that includes Henry.’

Vanessa starts to pout, but I turn away, not being able to look at her when she looks like that, because if she stares at me with that face for a little too long, I’m breaking into the office to look for Henry’s number, so I can call him and literally ask him to be Vanessa’s new dad.

Goodness gracious, what is happening to me? What happened to my strong independent woman mindset? I don’t need a man, like the Pussycat Dolls told me growing up and I don’t need them for anything. I have managed to become a great veterinarian and a pretty okay mother, without the help of family. I’ve done so much, but I’m willing to let all that go, just so I can have one more glance from Henry. Just one more smile from him.

A bark pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over my shoulder. I not only see the chubby American Akita, but also his owner. Henry looked handsome Saturday morning, but he looks even hotter today. He wears a dark blue jeans that shows the world how thick his thighs really are and a cosy sweater, but not a coat, since men are apparently too cool to wear coats in the beginnings of autumn.

Henry notices us and holds up his hand, while a wide smile creeps on his face. Vanessa wants to rush towards him, but I grab her arm before she can run away. Seriously, my mom reflexes are no joke. Today, when a salamander wanted to wander around the examination table and nearly fell off, I caught him just in time, while I had my back turned to him. The nine year old boy to whom the weird pet belonged to, almost cried out of happiness because I saved his salamander from breaking his neck. ‘Not a word about the new dad thing,’ I tell her sternly.

She nods, recognizing the look on my face and knowing that I mean it. I let her go and when she is close enough, she jumps in Henry’s arms. He catches her easily and I hear him say: ‘What a greeting, miss Vanessa,’ followed by a lovely chuckle of his.

This girl really needs a male figure in her life, I think to myself and if it were up to me, that role model is going to be Henry Cavill.

‘I missed you, Superman,’ she tells him and I have to resist the urge to bring up the new dad thing myself.

‘I missed you too,’ Henry says to her and that earns him a kiss from Vanessa on his cheek.

There is this saying that the only ones that tell the truth, are drunk people and little kids. What if Vanessa is right? What if this man should be her new dad? She always drew a man with a dog, outside of our house.

I never saw her with another man like this. Belle’s brother is nice, of course and they are best buddies, but it was never like this. This look Henry and Vanessa share with each other.

Vanessa wiggles herself out of his strong arms to cuddle Kal, who looks a lot livelier than he did a few days ago. He excitedly wags his tail. ‘Doctor Tran,’ Henry says to me when I walked over to the three of them.

‘Please, call me Olivia,’ I tell him. ‘We’re not in the clinic.’

‘Right.’ Henry has a faint blush on his cheeks. Is it because of me or did my child say something to him that embarrassed him when she hugged him?

‘How is Kal doing?’ I ask, scratching the big dog behind his ear, while Vanessa pets his back. ‘He looks a lot better than he did on Saturday.’

‘Yeah, I’m giving him the meds you gave me and he has been his normal self again. I also bought some Purina One and he seems doing really well with the sudden change of kibble.’ Henry clears his throat and he says: ‘It’s hard not to give him as many snacks as I want to, but I’m trying my best.’

‘Oh, you’re that kind of owner,’ I smile, before shoving my hands in my pockets. ‘Well, he looks happy and better than Saturday, so that’s good.’

I honestly have no idea what I can say to him, so for the first time in forever, I’m hoping Vanessa can break the ice here. I just pray she doesn’t force us to sing that Moana song, because that girl will get her way, especially when it comes to singing songs. I once had to sing “Love is an Open Door” (both Anna’s and Hans’ part) to her, when she locked herself in the bathroom at the library because something scared her.

Our eyes meet for a second and it’s like she understands me without words. ‘Mister Henry, what were you doing out here?’

Very good, Vanessa.

‘I was walking Kal,’ he says to her, crouching down so he doesn’t tower over her.

That’s adorable and all of the sudden I understand that shaking ovaries comment Belle made a whole lot better. I’m willing to give this man the family he wants, but I need to stop thinking right now.

‘We will walk with you.’

I wasn’t hoping for that kind of ice breaker. ‘Sweetheart,’ I say to her, ‘we can’t just say that. Maybe he has an appointment or something else that is important.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Henry on the other hand says, completely disregarding my parental efforts. ‘We could use some company actually.’

While my common sense is telling me that this isn’t a great idea (he is a client at the clinic, he just wants to get into your pants, he is just being nice), my heart is pounding like crazy, loving this idea.

‘Please, mommy.’ Vanessa folds her little hands together and pushes out her bottom lip, blinking her eyes like she’s some sort of puppy. This kid knows what she’s doing, because the chance I’m saying no now, is basically non existent.

‘Okay, sure, but you stay close now. No wandering off. If you want to go somewhere, ask me.’

‘We can go to a nearby park,’ Henry suggests. ‘Kal can run free if he wants and we can keep an eye on them.’

We can keep an eye on them. Don’t start hyperventilating now, Olivia Tran. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

Vanessa squeals and walks in between us, holding not only my hand, but also Henry’s. Oh my, we look just like one happy family, especially when I look to my side, to see that the most gorgeous looking man on the planet earth, is already looking at me, flashing me a beautiful smile.

Secretly I hope that we run into some parents from school, miss Sue or even my parents. I’m really tempted to rub this in everyones face, though it’s probably only a once in a lifetime moment.

‘Mister Henry,’ Vanessa says, ‘my mommy had to kill two cats and a dog today.’

‘Not kill,’ I quickly correct her. ‘I had to put them to sleep, remember? Those animals were old and sick and they needed a little help to go to heaven. I don’t kill them.’ I look at Henry again, who seems amused. ‘I really don’t.’

‘I believe you,’ he laughs. ‘You just tell owners their pets are fat.’

I involuntarily let out a laugh. ‘You are the first one in two months with a fat pet, so I just save it for the famous actors with who can’t say no to their chubby dogs.’

Henry licks his lips, before he sinks in this top teeth in his bottom lip. Goodness gracious. Next time I run into Henry Cavill, I should bring some extra pair of panties.

Olivia, that is terrible, I shouldn’t think like that.

My daughter is here for crying out loud.

‘Mommy, have you seen a cuter dog today?’

‘Cuter than Kal you mean?’ I ask her.

‘Mhm.’

I chuckle. ‘Well, I’ve seen cute dogs, but no one is as cute as Kal.’

‘I think so too,’ Vanessa says. She pulls her hand out of mine, before holding out her arms for Henry.

I want to tell her that she can’t just expect him to carry her, simply because he is strong and he is Superman, but without any difficulties he lifts her up with only one arm. If I tried that, I’d dislocate my shoulder, but obviously it’s a piece of cake for him. I spend my fair share on Pinterest and YouTube, admiring his arms. And that clip of him building that PC? That was the hottest thing on earth and is nearly illegal.

‘I lost a tooth today,’ Vanessa says, showing off her teeth, probably sticking her tongue through the gap.

‘Wow, that is awesome,’ Henry says, leaning in to check if there is already a new tooth coming in. ‘You’re going to put it underneath your pillow, so the Tooth Fairy can give you some money?’

I can feel Vanessa’s hesitation. She looks over her shoulder and ushers me to get closer. ‘Mommy,’ she asks, still loud enough for Henry to hear, ‘should I tell him the truth?’

‘About what?’ I ask her.

‘He still believes in the Tooth Fairy.’

I bite my lips, to prevent myself from laughing out loud. ‘I think you should tell him.’

She nods and wraps an arm around Henry’s neck. ‘Mister Henry,’ she says, ‘the Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist. Mommy just gives me money when I lose another tooth.’

Henry looks at me, also visibly holding in a laugh. ‘The Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist?’ he ask in almost believable disbelieve, but then I remember: this man is an actor. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Mhm.’

‘I need to call my mother, to ask her why she lied to me all those years?’

Vanessa shakes her head. ‘Well, lots of kids still believe in the Tooth Fairy, so it’s okay that you did too.’

‘It was just time for you to know the truth,’ I add.

‘Well, thank you, miss Vanessa,’ Henry says. ‘Thank you for being honest with me.’

We arrive at the park and Henry and I sit on a park bench, while Kal runs wild, followed by a giggling Vanessa. I flinch a few times, thinking Kal is too wild to be playing with Vanessa, but he actually tones down a bit, checking in with her to make sure that she’s alright.

‘You have a sweet dog,’ I admit, not being able to look at Henry just yet. He is really close, I can almost feel the heat he is radiating through my coat, right onto my skin.

‘Yeah, he is sweet.’

‘And fat.’

‘Are you ever letting that go?’ Henry laughs.

I simply shrug. ‘I’m a vet, I just want the patients to be healthy.’ I try to look serious, but I can’t help but chuckle. ‘But I don’t think I can let it go, until Kal is sixty kilograms.’

‘But what if he is just a larger model?’ Henry tries, still not wanting to fully admit to the fact that he was overfeeding his pet and thus the main reason Kal is at least ten kilos too heavy.

‘He isn’t,’ I tell him. ‘He is large, sure, but I’ve seen American Akita’s who are a whole lot bigger than him, but still within the acceptable weight range.’

‘You’re one tough doctor, Olivia,’ he says with a smile. ‘You know, your daughter has quite the personality. Figured she’s just like you.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah, people often say we’re basically twins.’

‘The fact that you told her about the Tooth Fairy being fake is admirable,’ he says.

‘I wanted her to spare the trauma I experienced,’ I say. ‘Besides, I don’t like lying to her, though everyone says it’s part of growing up.’

Henry nods and I can feel he wants to ask it. It’s always in people’s body language, when they want to know about the family situation. They clear their throat, avoid eye contact, rub their hands together and when they ask the question, they tilt their heads.

I decide that I’m not ready for a head tilt by the one and only Henry Cavill. ‘Her biological father didn’t want her,’ I say. ‘He broke up with me and disappeared out of my life, if that’s what you wanted to know.’

He sighs, a blush on his face, as if he is embarrassed that I caught on, before he even asked. ‘I don’t think I can ever understand those kind of men,’ he admits, staring at his dog and Vanessa. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘I mean, she’s a great kid, very in touch with her feelings and pretty smart too. Her biological father doesn’t know what he is missing out on.’

I don’t think I can ever understand those kind men. Did he honestly just say that? My entire body temporarily forgot how to function. Henry Cavill out there trying to steal my heart and with the rate he is going at, I’m willing to hand it over to him without putting up a fight. Her biological father doesn’t know what he is missing out on. That one went straight to my soul.

‘Well, he was an idiot anyways,’ I mumble. ‘Think I’m better off without him.’ I stare at Vanessa, who is chasing Kal, whose tail is wagging and he jumps around her like an idiot.

‘You are really better off without him,’ he says to me. ‘I don’t know the asshole, but I do know for a fact that you are better off without him. And Vanessa for that matter.’

I feel giddy, like a child before her birthday. ‘Listen, Henry, I’m sorry if she’s overstepping any boundaries. If you don’t want to pick her up, you don’t have to.’

‘I don’t mind, Olivia,’ he says. ‘She’s not overstepping any boundaries.’

I nod, not sure what to say. This isn’t helping with my fantasies, that I keep pushing back, postponing them to completely erupt when I’m in bed tonight. Belle is right: he oozes family man.

‘You’re doing a great job,’ he then says.

‘With what?’

‘Raising her.’

My cheeks flush. When was the last time I heard this, from someone other than Belle? I don’t think anyone has ever told me really… Except that one nurse in the hospital, when Vanessa was three and shoved a bead up her nose and I couldn’t stop crying. That event totally made me doubt my parental skills, until the nurse said that she dropped her infant on his head and he turned out to be fine.

‘I’m trying,’ I say, looking at my hands.

‘And that’s good enough,’ Henry whispers, but loud enough for me to hear it.

I need to contain the urge to just jump him, kissing his soft looking lips and allowing him to do things to me that I hadn’t done in such a long time.

Thankfully I have Vanessa, who always knows the exact moment I need her. ‘Mom, I had a little accident.’

When I look up, I see that she didn’t pee herself, but that she fell into the mud.

Face first.

Great.

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[calliecat93]

ST: TNG S4 Watchthrough Episodes 14-17

Clues: As the title hints, we have a mystery episode. The crew gets knocked out for thirty seconds… or so they think. Things are clearly not adding up like one of Crusher’s experiments having advanced a full day despite having just set it up before the knock out. The only one who can explain is Data, the only one who wasn’t knocked out… but he won’t. Why? Well… I won’t spoil it. Let’s just say that it’s pretty wild. Since I won’t spoil it, I can’t really say a lot about it. But it was an interesting episode as the crew puts together the pieces and them trying to get Data to talk. Data’s not one to lie without a good reason for it, so there has to be a mass reason as to why. And ho boy, did he have a reason alright. Pretty good all in all. 3/5.

First Contact: No, not the movie. So here we have the Enterprise making first contact with a society preparing to go into warp for the first time. Riker went undercover among them… but he got injured and found out as human. Whoops. Seems business as usual, right? Well… we have a bit of a twist. All of this is from the perspective of the Pre-Warp society. We see what the Enterprise’s encounter is like from the POV of the aliens, and it makes this a lot more interesting. Now we know that the crew is good guys and Picard is very much a stickler for the Prime Directive so he won’t allow any interference of the society’s progress… but they don’t. There’s a sense of wonder as well as fear. I mean if what to you is a bunch of futuristic aliens show up out of nowhere, one of them had integrated into your society, they are clearly more highly advanced than you, and start going on about a Federation of planets and the like, how would you react? Some of us may be all for it, others of us would be terrified/paranoid, and some may fall anywhere else in between. Malcor III seems to be on par with regular Earth at the time, maybe a bit more advanced, but ultimateley the events in the episode has them decide not to go forward with space exploraiton and turn down the Federation’s help. At least until they’re more prepared, which they currently aren’t. They do get Riker back, so that’s good~! The different perspective really made this one stand out, the Malcorians coming off as properly concerned about all of this, but overall reasonable about it. Well aside form one guy who is too paranoid over it, but it feels like we got a decent balance of ‘paranoid asshole’, ‘awed by the possibilities’, and ‘concerned but willing to listen’ with the three we see the most. The only issue I have is Riker more or less was potentially ugh… treated inapproprotiatley by an alien-obsessed woman… and it’s treated as a joke. Umm… WTF?! Other than that, good episode~ 4/5.

Galaxy’s Child: Of all the episodes that they decided to follow up on… they picked Boody Trap. Y’know, the one where Geordi made the hologram of one of the Enterprise designers to help solve the Problem of the Week. Now I tried to be nice when I went over that episode since I assumed that it would be a one-off…. but this one has caused me to no longer be able to brush off the episode as such. Look, I love Geordi and I don’t think he means to be this was intentional and the hologram thing was genuinely for work… but this episode portrays him as an utter creep using the Nice Guy card to justify himself. He fell for the hologram of Dr. Brahms and when she arrives on the Enterprise and turns out to be nothing like the hologram, he’s not too happy. But he tries to push it anyways and it’s just…. no. It gets worst when Brahms sees the hologram and I am fair, she had every right to be angered and disturbed by it and Geordi trying to force something between them. It was one thing when it happened as it did during Boody Trap, at least he remained focused on the task there, but here? I just… I know this was the 90’s but… ugh. It just looks utterly horrible now. I guess the point of the episode was that when you fantasize about someone and they don’t match that fantasy, you need to accept it and see them as they are. I don’t feel like Geordi is being necessarily presented as in the right… but it IDT they really saw how the execution makes it ook really wrong and especially now in the wake of the MeToo movement… yeah. It’s not as horrid as certain events in TOS’ The Enemy Within was by any means and it has a relevant message about not expecting your fantasies to be the reality, but other shows have done that much better. So unless there’s another follow-up that I’m unaware of, I have zero interest in revisiting this or Boody Trap ever again and I hope that if they have to give Geordi a failed romance plot (wasn’t he over that by Transfiguration though?), they portray him a Hell of a lot better than here. 2/5.

Night Terrors: So in this episode, the crew finds themselves unable to fall asleep. Specifically, they can’t achieve REM sleep. Aside from Data, who as an android doesn’t need sleep, the only one who can is Troi… but she has nightmares that involve flying and strange messages. Due to the lack of sleep, everyone’s losing it. Emotions are high, several hallucinate, memory lapses, and they are unable to properly do to their jobs. Which gets really bad when the engines won’t work. As someone who has constant insomnia, they all have my sympathy. So I looked it up and apparently lack of REM sleep can indeed cause issues as we saw here. Crazy, huh? Okay, let’s get the obvious out of the way. Yes, the Flying Troi bits were pretty silly. Aside from that… it was fine. For an episode called Night Terrors, it… didn’t really have a lot of terror. The only scenes that legit freaked me out was the covered corpses rising when Crusher was in the morgue and Worf almost killing himself. Even Troi’s nightmares were more silly than scary as previously noted. The rampant paranoia and everyone just… losing the ability to function is legit freaky though. Seriously Worf’s meltdown and Troi having to talk him down… that was heavy. Otherwise, it’s gone. Could have been better, could have been worst. A fine watch all in all. Also Guinan with the Big Laser Gun? Amazing. Honestly, it was pretty much the female characters solving all th problems in this episode and not losing their minds like pretty much all the male characters (that aren’t Data) did, so good job ladies~! 3.5/5.

[wordsablaze]

13~ Adrenaline

Magic and Misery Merlin might use magic to help Arthur but he rarely uses it to help himself, which leads to an awful lot of misery… written for whumptober, enjoy!

A/N: okay, this seriously got away from me and ended up double the intended length but here’s a hopefully satisfying continuation of my last piece x

-

Merlin rarely screams.

He’s so used to being quiet and hiding his pain to maintain his reputation as a bubbly manservant who always smiles at everything and cracks endless jokes. Even in front of Gaius.

The last couple of days have made up for all of that.

He easily loses count of how many times he’s screamed in pain during his sentence with the witchfinder, both due to internal agony related to the magic-suppressing shackles and the inflicted external wounds.

And the third day’s morning sees him screaming yet again, albeit weakly this time, as freezing water is unkindly poured over him; it’s a shock and a half.

“I thought you might be dehydrated,” the witchfinder explains, even though it’s more of a taunt.

Merlin just glares up at him, not even bothering to try and straighten his posture from where he’s awkwardly slumped against the wall because his limbs feel like the mud he usually has to clean off the horses after it’s been raining.

“What? No thanks?” Aredian’s son crouches down and lifts Merlin’s chin with his hand, smirking. “Do you need more incentive to show your gratitude?”

Naturally, Merlin doesn’t reply.

He’s too busy trying to figure out if he’s now freezing because of the unwanted shower or if the burning in every atom of his magical being is just so intense that it only feels as though his soul has frozen over and is now shattering into tiny fragments, fragments that are slowly piercing his organs.

Within seconds, the witchfinder’s other hand presses down onto the stitched wound on his arm, eliciting a sharp, broken whimper from Merlin, who can’t help but also flinch away from the pain.

“Much better!” Aredian’s son beams brightly, as if he were a child getting his way.

A lack of sleep means Merlin doesn’t even have the energy to mentally form a comeback to that, never mind actually say one out loud. He just waits until Aredian’s son is satisfied and lets go of him again so he can exhale softly, pulling his arm closer to his chest protectively.

“I had so many fun things planned for today but I might have to change them if you’re so unwilling to talk,” Aredian’s son announces.

Merlin just waits, blinking water out of his eyes.

“I think we’ll go for a ride,” he announces eventually, making Merlin groan.

He knows what’s coming but it still hurts - it hurts so, so much - when Aredian’s son unfastens the chain and yanks him to his unsteady feet, not bothering to let him steady himself before starting to march towards the door.

Merlin almost falls over in his haste to stumble after Aredian’s son, his numb feet just about managing not to let him fall until they arrive back at the cart. Only then does he stumble and end up on the ground, groaning softly as the witchfinder grins down at him.

“Pathetic,” he comments gleefully.

Merlin flinches from the word, using his less injured arm - that is, the one without the stitches - to push himself upright as he bites down on his lip to stop himself crying out.

Aredian’s son just grabs his ruined t-shirt and hauls him up, practically tossing him back into the cage before securing the chains to the cart once more. He’d lost his jacket and necktie at some point, probably when all those blades had gotten involved, so he can’t stop himself from shivering when his skin touches the cold metal of the cage.

“Comfortable?”

Merlin lets his eyes shut and refuses to acknowledge the question, but regrets that when Aredian’s son bangs on the cage, the reverberation echoing through his bones and drawing out yet another whimper.

He feels himself slide down until he’s not touching the bars anymore, curling into himself to make himself smaller, less noticeable, less of a target.

Aredian’s son just angrily grumbles something about a confession and, soon enough, the cart starts moving. Hitting as many rocks and bumps in the road as possible, it seems.

When they stop, Merlin doesn’t notice.

What he does notice, however, is the chains rattling and the shackles rubbing against his bruised wrists, where the skin is raw from when he’d found the energy to struggle.

He hisses softly, his eyes blearily blinking themselves open.

“Merlin?”

Arthur.

Merlin gasps, pulling himself upright with newfound strength, carelessly lifting a hand to rub his eyes, ignoring the pain that shoots down his arm.

“I can’t- Merlin, stop moving!”

Definitely Arthur.

But Merlin obeys anyway, his gaze finally focusing on a familiar face as Arthur draws out his sword. Despite the familiar face, however, Merlin flinches as light glints of the sword, pulling himself into the opposite corner.

“No, Merlin, I wasn’t-” Arthur cuts himself off, sighing sadly, and swallows before sheathing his sword almost guiltily and turning to the menacing chains once more.

Merlin lets his eyes fall shut again regardless of how much he wants to see Arthur, how much he wants to see if Arthur will stay.

He’s missed Arthur.

There’s about a minute’s silence before an almighty, metallic noise rings out and Merlin abruptly feels alive.

He gasps, ducking his head to hide his eyes as they widen because he can feel, actually feel the powerful golden glow that radiates from them. He covers his head with his arms as his heart blooms again, as his soul finally starts to thaw and comfort him again, as his magic roams free under his skin again.

He breathes.

Inhales.

Exhales.

Simply breathing.

He’d forgotten how liberating it feels to be able to breathe normally.

He waits until he feels his magic settle, nestle inside him where it can’t be found, before looking up.

Arthur’s tears greet him.

He frowns but no, he’s not hallucinating, Arthur Pendragon is in front of him, is crying in front of him.

“Arthur…” Merlin breathes, a small smile blooming on his face.

Arthur looks conflicted but he beams as Merlin smiles, letting them share their relief for a moment before clambering onto the cart and unfastening the bolt on the cage, practically throwing the door open.

“Come on, Merlin, I have to get you out of here,” he says quickly, hushed.

Merlin nods, pushing himself towards Arthur and letting himself be swiftly but kindly guided off the cart.

Instantly, there are arms around him.

Merlin’s smile only lasts a second before Arthur’s hand brushes the stitched wound on his shoulder and he cries out, wincing enough for Arthur to pull back in concern. “Merlin?”

“S- sorry,” he manages, unable to stop smiling despite the pain.

“Oh, Merlin. I’m so sorry,” Arthur tells him sincerely.

Someone starts yelling somewhere behind them - apparently, Aredian’s son hadn’t missed the commotion - and Arthur’s eyes widen, glancing around frantically before settling back on Merlin. “I’m sorry if this hurts,” he whispers.

Then Merlin’s feet are leaving the ground and his head is suddenly on Arthur’s shoulder.

He whimpers but clings to Arthur as he bites down on his lip, forcing himself to stay quiet, focusing on his magic, trying to see how much of it he can use to help them escape, to help prevent Arthur having to face the witchfinder too.

Not much, apparently.

But just enough.

With the help of Arthur’s strength and a sprinkling of Merlin’s magic, they manage to make it far away enough that they can’t even hear whoever it was chasing them anymore. Only then does Arthur stop and let Merlin down, making sure there’s a tree behind him that he can lean on.

“I’m so glad you’re alive.” Arthur smiles.

When he doesn’t continue with how he’d be losing someone to use as target practice or something of the like, Merlin lets himself smile properly for the first time in days.

“Why… I mean, how did you…?” Merlin stops suddenly, unsure of what exactly he should be asking.

Arthur understands anyway.

He shrugs. “I persuaded my father that three nights was far too long to result in a genuine confession and then I simply followed the tracks to find you.”

“You followed the tracks?” Merlin echoes, unsure where his energy is coming from but unable to resist an opportunity to tease Arthur.

Arthur clears his throat pointedly. “I may have, uhm, asked… everyone… if they’d seen a witchfinder.”

Something soft, something like happiness, spreads through Merlin as he imagines Arthur questioning so many people just to look for him. It means more to him than he can care to admit and it makes his suffering at the hands of the witchfinder just a little more tolerable.

“Arthur, we can’t stay here,” Merlin finds himself saying, despite his heart wanting to do just that.

Arthur nods solemnly. “I know, we have to get you back home- Uh, that is, to Gaius. So he can heal you. Because you don’t look good at all.”

Merlin has questions but he makes a note of and saves them for another time.

When Arthur moves to pick him up again, Merlin holds up a hand and steps back just enough to prove a point. He ignores the way Arthur looks horrified at the bruising on his wrist and swallows. “I can walk.”

“Merlin…”

“We’ll be faster this way,” Merlin argues.

Arthur takes a moment but nods once more, pausing briefly before grabbing Merlin’s hand and starting to run.

“I only said I could walk, Arthur!” Merlin yells as they start moving.

“You also said you wanted to go faster!” Arthur yells back, his voice laced with equal amounts of amusement and concern.

Merlin had anticipated himself falling but he does nothing of the sort, a strange sort of strength pushing him forward, allowing him to keep up with Arthur as they sprint their way towards Camelot.

They don’t speak but they don’t need to.

If Arthur’s hand wasn’t firmly gripping Merlin’s as they ran, Merlin would have thought he was imagining this as some kind of fever dream. It just seems unreal that Arthur would search so desperately for him but he’s not complaining; if this is the reward for maintaining his end of destiny’s bargain, he’ll gladly accept it.

“Are you okay?” Arthur asks breathlessly at one point, glancing sideways.

Merlin nods, not even lying when he manages to reply, “Never been better!”

They carry on, through the forests and over the mostly deserted roads, stopping for nothing and no-one as they move, their fingers firmly intertwined as if their lives depend on it.

Eventually, the castle comes into view and the two of them share a slightly exhausted but still exhilarated grin as they somewhat carelessly navigate their way through the streets until they burst into the courtyard.

Coming to a stop, Arthur looks over to Merlin, pure relief in his expression.

Merlin sends him a lopsided grin in return.

But then the blistering pain of the last few days catches up to him and he whimpers again, his hand falling from Arthur’s as he doubles over, his body aching all over.

Agony burns and dances across his skin, creating nonsensical patterns between his wounds and connecting the dots of all his bruises. It hurts and although it's slightly better than before because his magic is trying its best to help dull his pain, it still hurts a little too much for him to bear.

“Merlin!”

He can hear Arthur’s concern but it seems that his adrenaline could only last so long.

Satisfied that he’s back in Camelot, back where he’s safe, back home, Merlin offers Arthur a soft smile before letting the soothing comfort of darkness take over, take away his pain.

He just about registers himself collapsing before he sinks into unconsciousness.

At least Arthur's there to catch him this time.

-

I legitimately haven't read this through properly so my bad if it read a bit strangely! I hope it was okay though :)

-

like/reblog but please don’t repost, thanks! masterlist

[greymochii]

[ATEEZ] Jongho; Faint Love - Part I

Title: Faint Love

Characters: Jongho, OC, San, Hongjoong (minor), Yunho (minor), Wooyoung (ULTRA minor)

Word Count: 4659

Genre: Angst, College!au, Romance

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3

P.S.: A lot of grammatical errors, but I will proofread it and correct it when I have time. Errors evident in the other 2 parts as well.

Summary: It all started as a crush. It was mutual but we just said never anything. I thought that I had found love with Jongho... until San came along. Now I’m battling my feelings for two men, and things was starting to get super complicated.

No one else has ever regarded him as handsome but I always thought he was rather good-looking. Enough for me to fawn over his dashing looks each time I crossed paths with him. 

His almond-shaped eyes accentuated his well-defined face; accompanied with a cute, small nose and the prettiest lips that I have ever seen. His lips were the most attractive feature of his that I found, seeing how soft and moist it looked. He really must have taken care of lips very well, as it constantly looked moisturised and pink. But despite having a handsome face, Jongho carries a mysterious aura with him. No one really knew him even though they’ve talked with him before. He and I… we barely talked, and when we do, it was always about school or just small conversations about nothing.

Despite having a cold demeanor, Jongho was never unkind towards people. He just never smiles or have deep conversations with people. I guess people regarded him as unhandsome for his personality and decide to diss his physical appearance along with his somewhat bitter disposition. 

We’ve spent two semesters together and we’ve never really had good conversations, not until that one day when we were grouped together for a project and only he and I were focused on our research. We gave up pleading to other groupmates to do their job and just focused on ourselves, and to a point of covering their parts as well. 

That particular day, Jongho and I held ourselves back as we sat in the auditorium in silence, eyes fixated on our laptop screen. My eyes were starting to dry up from the long hours of staring at the screen and from the corner of my eyes, I saw Jongho’s hand extended towards you. I slowly turned and looked at his hand and then to his face and back to his hand. He was holding onto the disposal eye drop and silently passed it to me, his eyes focused on me. It wasn’t a hard stare but it wasn’t a blank one either. If there was one thing I can’t read, it was Jongho’s eyes. I can’t tell what he was thinking about because his eyes were always the same. And I noticed the way he looks at me was different from the he looks at others. Seeing how I was staring at him, Jongho shook his hand.

“Aren’t you going to take it?”

I snapped out of my trance and shook my head, clearly in disbelief that Jongho had offered a piece of the eye drop to me. “Oh, right. Thanks.”

Jongho gave me a small pursed smile and that was the first time I’ve ever seen him smile. For some reason, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t want to think too much about it so I quickly popped the eye drops into my eyes and blinked my thoughts away. Feeling relieved from the lubrication, I continued with my research until it was time to go home.

As I was packing, Jongho spoke again, his soft voice making me jump a little. “So, I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Great. See you tomorrow then, <y/n>.”

I was stunned. He never acknowledges me by my name before. I was starting to think about things and I didn’t want to hallucinate but I figured that he may have feelings for me.

Heh. Feelings for me… what a joke.

“Good… night to you too.” My voice trailed off as he walked down the stairs and then out of my sight. I stood frozen in my place, still trying to process what just happened. 

I wasn’t going to expect anything so I told myself to sleep it off and pretend that nothing ever happened. If there was one thing I was good at, it was hiding my feelings. No one really knew how I felt and there was a reason behind it. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone about it.

We met the next day and when he saw me, he smiled again. This time… it was wider… and genuine. I thought I felt myself holding my breath in and I clenched and unclenched my fists as I was walking towards him. When I took a seat adjacent to him, I avoided his eyes and took my laptop out. Even from the corner of my eyes, I could feel his eyes were on me, his gaze intense and focused.

“<y/n>, are you ok?”

I jumped in my seat and placed a palm to my chest as his voice shocked me, yet again.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath as I massaged my chest. In our two semesters together, he never asked me if I was alright. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I merely nodded my head and continued to unpack my belongings.

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

“I don’t know… You’re kind of… red.”

I froze and swivelled my head in his direction, my eyes wide in shock. “What?”

Jongho made a gesture around his face and then pointed at me, his eyes full of concern. “Your face, it’s red. Are you sure you’re ok? We can postpone this if you’re sick.”

“What? No, no, no! God, no! I’m fine. I-I’m f-fine. Really. I, uh… I’m gonna haul over to the toilet, would you give me a second?” I leaped out of my seat even before Jongho could answer and sprinted for the toilet.

Pushing the door open, I strode for the sink and stared long and hard at myself in the mirror, and to my horror, I was really red. My cheeks were flushed and so were my ears. To think that I was feeling absolutely flustered around him, and didn’t even realised I was blushing furiously completely baffled me. For the next couple of minutes, I was trying to calm myself down and each time I do so, I go even redder.

“What the fuck?” Frustrated, I closed my eyes and focused on other things. And for unknown reasons, I thought about that unfortunate moment. And then recalled about another pained memory that I wanted so much to be buried at the back of my mind. My so-called meditation was interrupted by a pair of girls streaming in smiling and laughing. I stood up straight and watched them as they gave several glances in my direction before proceeding into each cubicle. Realising I’ve spent too much time in the toilet, I rinsed my face a couple of times and composed myself before returning to the auditorium.

Jongho was typing on his laptop but when he saw me coming up the stairs, he stopped typing and looked at me. I turned to him and froze, shocked by his stare.

“What?”

He was silent for a bit but suddenly reached over and placed the back of his hand on my damp forehead, surprising me.

“You’re a little warm. Do you… wanna go home?”

Shaking my head vigorously, I whispered no and turned my laptop on. “I’m fine. Really. I was just, um… feeling a little warm, that’s why.” I gave a fake laugh and I was sure he wasn’t convinced about my excuse.

“If you say so.” He resumed his work and I felt relief washing over me. We continued on with our work for the next three hours, with very minimal interactions between us.

That’s the life of a college student, staying behind to do intense research and analysis, doing reports and dissertation, it had to be precise, thorough and original sometimes we lack sleep from our commitment to our projects. We’d skip meals but will try to have snacks to at least fill our empty stomachs so as to not pass out one day due to starvation. 

As dinner time approached, I skipped buying my own meal as I wanted to do as much research as I could since we were behind by a lot and what more covering other members’ parts. I didn’t even realize that Jongho had gone off to get dinner because when he came back, he brought back two meals. 

Putting one bag in front of my face, he said,”Here. Eat something.”

I was taken aback and took the plastic bag from him, slightly confused and surprised. He had bought kimchi and rice for me, and even bought a bottled water for me. I turned to him to thank him but he was already digging into his meal. I went over to him and sat next to him, not saying a word so as to not disturb his dinner time.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as I unpacked the food.

“You’re welcome,” Jongho mumbled through his filled mouth, making me giggle a little. “What’s so funny?”

I stopped giggling and got abashed and stuttered on my words. “O-oh… It was nothing. You just said you’re welcome through a full mouth and I thought i-it was funny.”

“Oh… But yeah, you’re welcome.”

We ate in silence and although it seemed awkward, I still felt relaxed and comfortable sitting beside him. By the time he was done eating, Jongho sat quietly in his seat, looking around the auditorium and then his eyes landed on me. I wasn’t focused on his stare as I was busy indulging in the food but I absently turned my gaze to him, he quickly looked away. I was convinced that I could see a pink tinge on his cheek and I know that he knows it too. Clearing his throat, he excused himself but his face was still looking in the other direction.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go to the men’s room. Be right back.” In a matter of seconds, he disappeared out of the door, leaving me flabbergasted.

By the time he came back, I was already on my laptop and typing away on my report. When his eyes met mine, he averted his gaze elsewhere and went back to his seat. My eyes followed his movements and realising that he wasn’t going to look at me, I turned back to my screen, feeling my heart drop a little.

It was close to midnight and my back was hurting and so was his. We silently agreed to pack up and he didn’t offer to meet up again the next day, which disappointed me. I wasn’t sure I was so upset about this, but I kind of expected to hear Jongho ask if we could meet again tomorrow but he didn’t. I tried not to take it too personally and faked a smile as much as I could. I was the first to leave but before I went down the stairs any further, I turned to him.

“Thank you.”

Jongho’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Hm?”

I faint a small smile and said,”Thank you… for the meal.”

Jongho stood rooted to the ground, his eyes wide and his expression blank. I couldn’t tell if he was confused or he was just genuinely speechless because I had thanked him again. Either way, I was just grateful and decided to express my gratitude for his generosity again. Walking away with a smile on my face, I felt nothing else but relieved and strangely enough, was looking forward to spending more time with him.

We only had about four weeks left on the projects and as per usual, Jongho and I were the only ones working hard on it. As each day progressed, we grew closer but even then, I still don’t know Jongho personally because we don’t hold deep conversations. As much as I want to, I didn’t want to seem pushy or nosy so I just rolled with whatever conversations we were having. We would often exchange glances and I’d notice his face going pink once in a while and I couldn’t help but smile at his blushing.

As we were indirectly flirting with each other, or so I thought we were, someone else had entered and looked upon from the bottom. I had to squint my eyes to get a better look and realised it was one of our groupmates.

“What’s he doing here?” Jongho’s voice suddenly deeper and I noticed a tinge of annoyance when he spoke. I glanced at him and saw that his brows were knitted and I knew that he wasn’t in favour of another company.

I turned back to the figure that was already climbing up the stairs and sighed quietly. He was always the one staying unbothered when in class so it struck me as odd when he turned up that day.

“San, what are you doing here?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair, frowning slightly at him.

San looked from me to Jongho and then back to me, smirking as he dropped his bag on the chair in front of him.

“You got my part?”

“What?”

“My part. The research? Have you got it?”

Cocking my brows up in shock, I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. “Of course not, that’s your responsibility. Why am I supposed to be doing your part for you?”

“Bullshit, Jinhee told me you were starting on mine, so I know you have it.”

I clenched my jaw and internally cursed Jinhee for opening her mouth, whatmore to San. I’ve always disliked his guts because he was always rude and he was always giving me unnecessary comments. I scowled at him and was about to put his part into a pen drive when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and turned to Jongho who had his other hand extended towards San, a pen drive in his grip.

San looked at the pen drive and back to Jongho, a frown creasing on his forehead. “What the hell is that?”

“Your share. You asked for your part, I’m giving it to you.” Jongho’s voice was firm and I could feel myself holding my breath as I watched the two men exchanged words in cold air.

“I was asking it from <y/n>.” San took a step forward but Jongho remained rooted, completely undeterred.

Jongho wasn’t bothered by San’s so-called threatening looks and just shoved the pen drive into his hand. “She doesn’t have it. That’s your part, I had it and now I’m giving it to you. Will you please leave us alone now?”

“L-leave you alone?” San laughed sinisterly and shook his head at Jongho. “Did you forget that I’m a part of this group? Now you’re chasing me away from wanting to be active in my role? Come on, man.”

“We were doing fine without you,” Jongho said bluntly, his gaze hard and sharp on San. “Why now then?”

San merely shrugged his shoulders and plopped himself down on the chair in front of me, his eyes trained on me. I felt a little uneasy and noticing my discomfort, Jongho pulled his chair next to me. He was about to say something else but I tugged on his sleeve and shook my head. I didn’t want the argument to escalate and since he was there, it lessened my burden of completing another member’s task.

“You can stay, but be sure to do your part. We’ve wasted a week and a half doing everyone else’s tasks,” I firmly said as I began typing again.

Giving me his lop-sided smile, San nodded and glared at Jongho. “Yes, Ma’am.”

True enough, San was quiet but that still didn’t help diminish my dislike for him. He’d occasionally glance at me while I work and Jongho would be the one to give a death stare. As it was coming to dinner time, I declined to go out and get food as I wanted to finish on my report as soon as possible. Jongho was a slightly hesitant but he went out to get dinner, leaving San and I alone in the room. It was awkward and tense, and I couldn’t help but to squirm in my seat. Silence filled the air and though I appreciate it, it still made me uncomfortable.

“How far are you?”

“I beg your pardon?” I frowned at him and San scoffed as he stared at me.

“I asked, how far are you? Your report, how far are you with it?” I was taken aback and stuttered on my words.

“Oh! Uh, I, uh… about slightly more than one quarter in. Why do you ask?”

“One quarter? We still have time, why are you rushing to finish it?”

I rolled my eyes at him, much to my dismay and ignored him. Just as I was doing my report, San closed my laptop and grabbed my hand. I stared at him in disbelief and he dragged me out of my seat and down the stairs then out of the auditorium.

“San, let me go!” I tried to wring my hand out of his grip but each time, he tightened his grip. “Will you please let me go?!”

San ignored my pleas and continued dragging me to God knows where. By the time we’ve come to a stop, I realised he had brought me to the cafeteria. 

“What the hell?” I muttered as San continued to drag me and then stopped in front of a Western stall.

“San, my dear! What can I get you, son?” A strong yet petite woman emerged from the stall, a wide smile plastered on her face. Judging from the way she greeted San, I could safely assume that he was a regular patron.

San turned to me and I gave a disgusted look when he checked me out from head to toe. Turning back to the stallowner, San smiled and said,”Can we get two sets of the aglio olio, Mrs Kim?”

Stunned, I objected but San put his hand out to cover my mouth. Mrs Kim, the stallowner, seemed slightly puzzled, but San reassured her that he was getting two plates for the both of us. Once she was gone, I yanked his hand away and glared at him.

“A plate of aglio olio for me? You didn’t even ask me what I wanted!”

“So you do want me to get you something to eat.” San smirked as he said that, pulling cash out of his wallet.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. You know what? You can eat the two plates by yourself, I’m heading back.” I turned on my heels but before I could stomp off, San grabbed my arm and pulled me aggressively towards him.

“I don’t care what kind of feelings you have for me. Hate, disgust or whatever, I don’t care. But when I’m being kind, the least you could do was say thank you and not be a brat.” He hissed in my ear and I felt myself shuddering under his grip and swallowed hard when he said that. 

“I-T-thank y-you…” My voice trailed as San released me from his grip. I massaged on the arm that he had gripped tightly and felt so embarrassed. I looked around to make sure no one saw what just happened but a couple of students at a nearby table was glancing our way and I knew they were talking about us. I massaged the area that San had gripped so tightly, my jaw clenched so hard I could hear my teeth gritting. I could only bow my head in embarrassment and avoided eye contact with anyone. I never thought I’d get humiliated publicly like that, not especially from the man I loathed the most.

We ate in silence and by the time we were done, I thanked him again and quickly walked off. When I thought I was out of his sight, I slowed my pace down and then came to a halt. My breathing was starting to get heavier and I had to balance myself on the wall. After what seemed like a minute of self-assurance, I straightened my back and walked on only to be stopped by a grip on my hand. I turned and was shocked to see San. I tried to yank my arm away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he loosened it and took a look at it before massaging it gently.

He gazed at me with his now softened eyes and I just stared at him, confused as to what was happening. He was still massaging my arm and then sighed quietly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I was confused because here was the man who I had loathed so much, suddenly apologising for grabbing me roughly and then humiliating me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but only nodded.

“I really am… sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” I noticed guilt in his voice and noting the genuinity in his eyes, I forgave him.

“<y/n>?”

We both jumped and saw who the owner of the voice was. Jongho stared at the both of us and I could feel panic overwhelming me. Side-glancing San one last time, I strode past Jongho and back into the auditorium and packed up my bags. Jongho startled me when he came up behind me and I gave him a weak smile.

“<y/n>, are you alright?” I just nodded my head and pushed passed him but he gently grabbed my arm, unconvinced with my reply. “Wanna talk about it?”

Shaking my head, I pulled my arm away and smiled faintly at him. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

“<y/n>, wait!”

I ran passed San and the next thing I knew, I was on the bus, on the way home feeling confused and frustrated.

We met up two days later as all three of us were busy and I had an evening class the day before. San said he was going to be late and neither of us minded. When it was just Jongho and I alone in the room again, tranquility and comfort filled the air. 

We’ve been at our laptops for two hours and I was beginning to get bored, so I decided to have a bit of fun. Since Jongho was sitting opposite me, I crushed a small piece of paper and threw it at Jongho, who was surprised by my attack. 

“What was that for?” Jongho smiled slightly and continued typing but occasionally giving me glances, making me smile a little.

I played Bruno Mars on my laptop and began singing along, evident that boredom has taken a toll on me.

“You like Bruno Mars?” Jongho’s eyes lit up and suddenly I have peaked his interest.

“I like his songs.” I smiled and sang along loudly to Grenade and suddenly he chimed in, belting his high notes and falsetto, surprising me. I stopped singing and watched as he sang along, his voice echoing through the room.

When he saw that I stopped singing and was staring at him, he got bashful and glanced elsewhere. “What?”

“You have a beautiful singing voice.” My compliment made him blush even harder and I thought that was the cutest thing ever.

“I-I do?”

“Yes.” I giggled and bit on my lower lip, hoping he’d agree to my request. “Would you… sing something for me?”

Jongho gazed at me and he seemed uncertain but I encouraged him to sing. “Well, w-what do you want me to sing?”

“You’ve probably heard of this song, but it’s called Say Something by A Great Big World. It features Christina Aguilera,” I said softly, my eyes never leaving his handsome face. His eyes met mine and we were locked in on the staring game for some good minutes before he cut it off by clearing his throat.

“Oh, that song. I’ve heard it. It’s a sentimental piece,” Jongho straightened his back and begin singing acapella, his melodious and gentle voice resonating through the room. At some point, I could feel him pouring his emotions into the song, making my hair stand and sending shivers down my spine. 

He stopped after a while and when he opened his eyes, I saw passion. I figured he loved singing but probably had to give it all up. I clapped my hands in elation, feeling the warmth in my heart.

“How’d I do?”

“Beautiful. You did beautifully.” We sat in silence, our smiles never fading. 

“I wish you’d show me more of this side to yourself,” I said quietly, my gaze lifting up to meet his eyes. He was quiet and his smile was starting to fade. “I wish you’d talk with me more.” 

Jongho leaned back in his chair and brushed his hand through his hair. “Why are you interested in me? I’m nothing.”

My head snapped up and I was speechless. Speechless and astounded at how he remarked himself to be. “You’re not nothing. Jongho, I-”

Our conversation was interrupted by San’s presence. He was panting rather heavily and I could see beads of sweat building up on his forehead and temple.

“Sorry I’m late.” San sat down and was breathing like a dog and I figured he must have ran. “Damn Professor Chan held me back just to lecture me on my report. Fucking asswipe said I plagiarised a big chunk of it and told me to redo it and gave me three days to resubmit.”

Jongho and I exchanged glances but remained silent. It was something to be expected from San since he took college pretty lightly.

When my eyes met San’s, I quickly looked away and fumbled with my laptop. San dropped a paper bag on my laptop, catching me by surprise. I glanced at him and he was fanning himself.

“To make up for what happened two days ago.” I opened up the paper bag and inside were 2 rolls of onigiri and a small bottle of banana milk. Still bitter about what happened, I gave a small smile and bowed my head in gratitude. San could tell I wasn’t fully forgiving of him.

Jongho watched as the exchange unfold before him and he felt heat coursing through his veins. He didn’t know why he was jealous, but he just was. Rolling his eyes at us, Jongho continued typing and ignored us for the remainder of time in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 5PM?” I asked Jongho and he merely nodded his head. I felt my heart sunk a little and began to wonder if I did something wrong to upset him. Jongho left without saying a word and I was left flabbergasted, confused by his behaviour. 

Just as I was about to descend the stairs, San gently stopped me by grabbing my hand. I swivelled but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to have anything to do with him at all.

“<y/n>... I know you really hate me right now, and I… can understand that. But know that what I did to you was unforgivable and I truly am sorry.” San fiddled with his fingers and he pursed his lips together, revealing a set of dimples that’s indented on either sides of his cheeks. It was something I had never noticed before. “<y/n>, please let me make it up to you.”

I wasn’t sure how he was going to make it up to me but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

“Would you like to have dinner with… me tomorrow? Please.”

I could feel my lips parting slightly but no words came out. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that and I didn’t want to make it look so easy for him. 

“I’ll think about it.” I turned on my heels but not before San stopped me again.

“I really am… sorry.”

I gazed at him knowingly and moved on, not wanting to make him apologise relentlessly. The more I think about it, the more I realised that San wasn’t as bad as he looks. Then I thought of Jongho and things were starting to get complicated.

Brutally complicated.

[tattooedsiren]

Mike was exhausted, had barely managed more than two hours sleep each night for the last five days. So when he opened the door to see Harvey standing on the other side of it, bag of takeout in hand, his first reaction was that he was hallucinating.

“Did I call you?” Mike asked, confused, because he honestly couldn't remember speaking to or even texting Harvey once today but with the aforementioned lack of sleep he supposed even his genius memory might start to fail.

Harvey shook his head, the concern on his face deepening. “No,” he replied, walking into the apartment uninvited. Not that Mike would’ve stopped him. Invitations and pleasantries weren’t part of their deal. They crashed into each other, unannounced and unapologetic, and that’s the way it’d been since day one. “I thought you could use this.”

Mike caught the scent of the Thai food and his stomach rumbled in response. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate and was suddenly starving.

“Thank you,” Mike breathed with genuine gratitude. He started to move towards the kitchen but Harvey stopped him with a hand to the chest.

“Go, sit. I’ve got this.”

And he did. Mike watched Harvey move around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and cutlery, pouring them both drinks (glasses of water; even if Mike wanted a beer, which he did, he knew he shouldn’t be drinking at this point). It was strange to think that Harvey had been here enough times to not only know where everything was but to be comfortable enough to move around the kitchen like he owned it. But then again, didn’t he himself push his way into Harvey’s apartment the first time he went there, kicking off his shoes and collapsing fully onto the couch like it was something he’d done a million times before.

They crashed into each other, unannounced and unapologetic, and the thought made Mike chuckle ruefully.

“What’s so funny?” Harvey asked, bringing the steaming bowls of food over and handing one to Mike. Mile leaned over it and inhaled deeply. It smelled so good. He took a large mouthful of Pad See Ew and moaned appreciatively. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Well?” Harvey prompted when Mike didn’t answer.

Mike smiled softly. “Just thinking about the first time I went to your place.”

Harvey made a face. “Don’t remind me. It was damn near impossible to pry you off my sofa.”

“What do you expect when you have the most comfortable couch known to mankind. That thing is like a cloud. I want to marry it.”

Harvey laughed. “You really are delirious.”

Mike didn’t argue the point. They sat there eating together on Mike’s couch, which was much more compact than Harvey’s, and Mike could feel the line of Harvey beside him. It was more comforting than he was really ready to admit.

“How’s the case going?” Harvey asked at last, looking at the piles of papers covering the surface of his coffee table. His laptop was buried under there somewhere and some of the files had made their way to the floor, piled in messy stacks.

Mike thought the state of the case was fairly obvious, but answered anyway. “Not well.”

“Can I help?”

Mike turned to him, surprised. “But you said-”

“If you were gonna take this pro bono you needed to do it by yourself on your own time, I remember. That was before I realised you’d work yourself into the grave to get it done.”

“Aww, almost sounds like you care,” Mike joked.

But Havey didn’t respond. When he looked over Harvey was just looking at him. There was something raw and exposed about the expression that made Mike’s breath catch in his throat.

“Don’t work yourself to death, Mike,” Harvey said earnestly.

“I won’t,” Mike promised.

So after they finished eating Mike handed Harvey some files and they got to it. Mike knew why this case was getting to him so much - an idiot would be able to figure it out - but he didn’t think his empathy was a hindrance. He was fighting for this young girl because he knew what it was like when no one else would. She didn’t deserve to be going through this, just like he didn’t when he was but a year younger than she is now.

After a couple of hours working together Mike let out a sigh and crumpled back into the couch. “We’re never gonna get it.”

“Come on, where’s that optimistic streak that is usually and annoyingly on display?”

“I think it made like Elvis and left the building.”

Harvey laughed. “Well, I guess I could use a break.” He tossed the files in his hand onto the coffee table and stood, stretching his body. He’d gone home to change after work, and the simple outfit of jeans and a henley had no right to look as good as they did. Mike tried not to stare as he raised his arms above his head and stretched, but he couldn’t help it. Not that it mattered, because Harvey didn’t even notice, just stretched and twisted his body a few times and then headed over to the kitchen, pulling a beer from the fridge. He held it up in offering to Mike, but Mike shook his head. So Harvey leaned against the counter as he took a few swigs, and told Mike about the latest douchey things Louis had said and the utterly epic way Jessica had shut him down.

It felt good to laugh, to let his mind wander from the case for a few minutes. It had been his every waking thought all week - even when he was at Pearson Hardman and working on whatever contract or brief he’d been given, in the back of his mind he was always thinking about Shelby and doing whatever he could to make her life just a tiny bit better.

When Harvey made his way back to the couch he was looking at Mike curiously. Mike barely noticed, until Harvey sat beside Mike on the couch and said, “Turn.”

Confused but too tired to argue, Mike did as he was asked. Harvey removed his hand from his neck, which was when Mike realised he’d been idly kneading at the ache that had been there for over a day. Harvey replaced Mike’s hand with his own, and the touch was so surprising Mike flinched slightly. Harvey stilled, asked, “Is this okay?”

Not trusting his voice, Mike simply nodded. The touch was light as Harvey ran his fingertips over Mike’s skin for a moment, and then firmer as he pressed in, right where the pain was worst. There was a sharp intake of breath, but Harvey didn’t stop. He massaged the one spot for a minute or two, a continuous motion that was equal parts pain and pleasure.

“You’re muscles are so tight. What did you do, sleep on the floor or something?”

“Close. The couch. As I’m sure you can guess I do not want to marry my couch.”

Harvey chuckled but said nothing. He started expanding his reach further; moving his fingers to the top of Mike’s neck then slowly inching down, following the curve of his neck to his shoulder, which was also aching. Mike hadn’t been on the receiving end of too many massages so he didn’t have much of a basis for comparison, but it felt amazing. He never wanted it to end. Harvey became bolder, using both hands so he could press into both sides of Mike’s neck and shoulders at once in a constant circular motion. The room was silent but for Mike’s heavy breathing as he surrendered to the sensations. Harvey’s fingers slipped under the neckline of his shirt at the base of Mike’s neck and he couldn't help it. He moaned, quite loudly, and Harvey’s hands froze on his skin.

Mike’s eyes, which had fluttered closed at some point, now flew open. He could barely breathe, keenly aware of the tension that had flooded the room.

Oh so slowly, Mike turned. Harvey dropped his hands into his lap and waited patiently as Mike turned to face him. Neither of them spoke straight away, and Mike saw something he’d never before seen in Harvey’s expression: nerves.

“Mike-” Harvey started, but then Mike reached over and put his hands on Harvey’s, tangling their fingers together. Harvey looked down at them for a moment, and when he looked back up Mike slowly leaned forward until their lips met.

Mike felt something settle in his chest, a feeling of being home, of finally finding his place in the world. It was too big a feeling for so small a kiss, just the simple pressing of mouths, so he pulled back. Mike needed to be sure, and when he saw it, saw that same warmth shining form Harvey’s eyes that he currently felt floating through his body, he smiled softly. Harvey returned it, so Mike leaned forward and kissed him again, deeper this time.

Mike felt dizzy with it. He needed more, needed to be closer. That meant Mike had to pull away, just for a moment that felt far too long, so he could get up on his knees and then throw a leg of Harvey. He looked down at Harvey’s face for a moment, wanted to take a picture in his mind of Harvey like this, so open and real and, even if only for a moment, his.

Mike gently cupped Harvey’s face and kissed him again. He sunk into him, settling in his lap as their mouths moved together, slow but deep. Harvey’s fingertips pressed into Mike’s hips, a touch that grounded Mike more than any words could.

“I’m not dreaming,” Mike murmured against Harvey’s mouth, “am I?”

Mike felt more than heard Harvey’s chuckle in reply. “No.”

Mike pressed their foreheads together, let his fingertips drag from Harvey’s checks down his neck until he could press his palms to Harvey’s chest. Mike just breathed for a moment, felt the rise and fall of Harvey’s lungs beneath his hands. He kissed Harvey again, and whispered, “I really want this.”

Nothing had ever sounded like a confession more than Harvey’s simple reply of, “Me too.” And when Mike remained silent Harvey said the words for him. “But you can’t do this right now.”

Mike let out a shuddering breath. The words hurt to hear, even if they were true. In fact, hearing Harvey say it, knowing he understood where Mike was coming from, felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Still, he was angry with the world for bringing him this moment, something he’d wanted for the longest time, right when his mind was too distracted and his body too exhausted to follow through.

“I’m sorry.”

Harvey’s hands moved up Mike’s back, pressing him in closer. “Don’t be,” he spoke softly into his ear. They held each other for a few moments before Harvey said, “Okay, here’s the plan.” Mike sat up, curious. “One, we put you to bed and you get a minimum of six hours sleep. “Two,” he continued before Mike could object, “we bring the case into office hours and get one of the other vaguely competent associates to help you during the day and I’ll help you after hours until it’s done. Three, we win the case and go out and have a celebratory dinner and then lots and lots of sex. What do you think?”

Mike laughed. “I like it. I’d like to make one minor amendment though.”

“What’s that?”

“You stay here with me tonight.”

Harvey’s expression softened before Mike’s very eyes. “Deal,” he said, holding out his hand. Mike took it, wrapping his fingers around Harvey’s and pulling him in for a kiss.

[cinnaminsvga]

La Douleur Exquise Pt 3 | Incubus!Yoongi AU

➵ summary: in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for. ➵ warnings: emotionally constipated yoongi and reader but what else is new ➵ genre: fluff, angst, humor ➵ words: 4.4K ➵ a/n: this part was supposed to be 10K long, but I decided to cut it short and leave the other half to be in part 4 instead. sorry for the long wait!! hopefully this doesn’t seem too rushed lol

➵ part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7

If scientists ever discovered a way to punch the sun, then you were sure you’d be the first one in line.

As the bright rays from the outdoors filtered into your small bedroom, you cursed past-Y/N for not having the forethought to close the blinds. You groaned tiredly, feeling the fatigue from your week of inadequate sleep still weighing heavily on your eyelids. You slowly stretched your tired limbs, your hands searching for something, or more specifically, someone.

While your twin-sized bed was usually only occupied by yourself, you distinctly remembered going to bed with a notoriously grumpy incubus the night before. But as your hands start reaching for the demon’s warmth, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. In fact, the sheets did not even feel remotely warm, making you assume that he had awoken maybe hours before yourself.

“What is the fucker doing now?” You muttered to yourself, groaning as your creaking joints protested after even the slightest movements. It was not without much complaining and cursing when you attempted to stand up, and not even bothering to check your disheveled reflection as you exited your bedroom in search of your grumpy demon roommate.

It did not take long for you to locate him since he was just standing by the stove, with a pair of cooking chopsticks in his hands and your pink frilly apron adorning his bare chest. You could hear the slight sizzle of the pan as he flipped what appeared to be an omelette the size of your head.

Your footsteps must had been louder than you had anticipated because Yoongi immediately turned around the moment you enter the small kitchenette.

Yoongi offered you a small grin (it looked more like a grimace, but you give him full points for trying). “’Sup,” was all he said as he finished plating the spectacular omelette on a plate for you. You could not help but notice that Yoongi had cooked the omelette exactly the way you made it for him: with a copious amount of bacon and cheese. You tricked yourself into thinking that the smile on your face was because you were finally getting to eat.

“This is all for me?”

“Fuck no. Half of it’s mine. But if you’re going to be a fatass and eat all of it, then I guess I’ll have to make myself another one.” He scoffed, but judging by the way he had already started to cook himself another omelette anyway, you guessed that he hadn’t meant a word he said.

“Sheesh, grouchy. Fine. Here, have my other half.” You teased, causing the demon to turn around in shock.

“W-wha—no! You finish that omelette, stupid! I was just joking! You need all the food you can get, asshole. Have you seen yourself lately? How am I supposed to fuck you if you look like you’re going to pass out any second now? That’s super rude you kno—“ You don’t get to hear his full rant, however, because Yoongi had suddenly stopped mid-sentence. His eyes were boggling comically wide when you promptly walked over to him to leave a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“What—huh—shit—fucker—fuck—!” He stammered, a stream of broken expletives escaping his mouth in disbelief. After having lost all speaking abilities, it was his shocked eyes that asked ‘what the fuck you think you were doing?’ since all signs of his functioning mental state had completely disappeared. You also don’t miss the slight blush creeping us his neck.

For a demon who could dirty talk like there’s no tomorrow, he definitely couldn’t handle a little bit of affection from a weak, sickly human.

Very much aware of his embarrassed state, the grin on your face was downright devilish. “Aww, is little Yoongi flustered from my little kiss?”

He flicked your forehead in retaliation, but it did nothing to stop your smirk from widening. “You motherfucker! You did that on purpose!”

You shrugged your shoulders, a small giggle escaping your lips. Yoongi would kill you if you ever told him that he was cute, but it didn’t stop you from thinking so. “Maybe so. It’s my way of saying thank you.”

It amused you greatly when the persistent blush along Yoongi’s neck refused to leave, even after he finished cooking his own omelette. When he had plated his food, you were amazed to see him actually eat like a normal person, taking regular sized bites instead of scarfing it down like an animal as he usually did. If your curious eyes irritated Yoongi, he chose not to address it, instead eating the omelette alongside you in peace.

It was an awkward type of peace; it was the type of silence that often encompassed two acquaintances who did not know what to talk about. It was when the conversation stilled and the two people find that there had nothing in common to talk about, save for the quarreling the two of you normally engaged in. Now that there was too much tension from the night before, it did not seem right to continue bickering as if nothing was wrong—as if you hadn’t looked like death from the night before.

The quiet did not last for long, as it seemed that whatever had been bothering Yoongi finally snapped him out of his odd muteness.

“We need to talk about last night. The tension in this fucking room is making my asshole clench,” he said, his fork clattering noisily onto his plate.

You barely glanced up at the demon, instead opting to go the route you normally went to—teasing. “Aww, is Yoongi worried about lil ol’ me? If I had known your heart would grow three times bigger if I stopped eating, maybe I should’ve done it sooner,” you tried joking lightly, before finally looking up from your plate and expecting to find an irritated or angry Yoongi scowling back at your petulance.

You find neither of those emotions. If you had to name the emotion swimming in Yoongi’s eyes, you could only liken it to fear.

Oh.

So he had been worried.

The teasing immediately died in your throat. “Oh,” you muttered weakly, glancing away from his intense stare and choosing to play with your food instead. “You were serious.”

You heard him snort disbelievingly. “You fucking think? You looked like you were going to die last night. Why haven’t you been eating? Don’t think I haven’t noticed; also, stop playing with your food. I’m not leaving you alone until you finish every bite.”

You paused. A perpetually irritated and grouchy Yoongi? You were used to handling his daily mood swings. But a genuinely worried and maybe even caring Yoongi? This was unlike any encounter with him that you had ever faced.

Your silence was starting to annoy Yoongi. “Well? What’s up?”

It took you a while to choose the appropriate words. Eventually finding none, you decided to just reply bluntly. “I’m saving up on money.”

Yoongi’s glare (Fuck, had he been glaring? He was actually trying to be nice, believe it or not) stopped short. Yoongi looked at you confusedly. “What? What do you mean? I thought you were working, which is how you fucking acquire money. Or am I missing something here?”

Despite being unable to meet his eyes, the undivided attention you could sense he was giving you made you fidget in your seat. You were used to his lustful gazes and miffed glares, but this stare wasn’t like any those times. What was happening? Fuck.

“Well? Am I missing something here?”

Sighing heavily, you finally managed to gather enough courage to explain your dilemma to Yoongi. “Alright, here it goes.” You shrugged, already preparing yourself for his teasing.

Basically, you had been short on cash recently because you had been sending too much of your salary back to your parents—more than you should be. In addition to the extra mouth to feed (i.e. Yoongi), you decided to cut some expenses in order to keep supporting both your family and Yoongi. One of those expenses happened to be your breakfast and dinner, since you managed to get lunch for a discounted price at the diner you worked at. You supposed that with the upcoming exams and stressful work environment, all your missed meals and lack of sleep had finally caught up with you last night.

“I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t I? I’m so stupid; I can’t even getting eating right.” You tried laughing it off, but you couldn’t quite hide how forced it sounded; it sounded like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

When you were talking, you had been too scared to make eye contact with Yoongi, too fearful to find his judging eyes staring back at you. It was bad enough that you didn’t function like a normal human being, what with not enjoying sex and all that, so you didn’t need to feel more like a loser any more than you should. But after waiting a couple of moments when you had finished speaking, you were confused as to why Yoongi still had not uttered a single word in response.

Swallowing drily, you forced your eyes upwards, bracing yourself for whatever expression Yoongi might be wearing. To your intense confusion, you found that he had no expression, his face stoic and unmoving. For some reason, you felt your heart drop in disappointment, but you weren’t quite sure why. He didn’t seem like he was judging you, so why were you sad?

Were you really crestfallen that maybe he had never been worried at all? Had you been hallucinating when you thought Yoongi could have been genuinely worried about you?

When your eyes met, Yoongi had only muttered a simple “oh” before continuing to eat his omelette. He never brought up the subject again.

The day passed without another word, and everything went back to its proper place.

Or so it seemed.

Except, some things had changed, and you would be an idiot not to notice them.

You go to work as per usual for the next couple of days. Unlike your usual routine, however, you found that you no longer needed to cook Yoongi his breakfast because he would already be gone by the time you had awakened. You never really told him that he wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment, seeing as how he was, for the most part, a functioning adult, so it wasn’t really your right to tell him what he could and could not do. It was still a surprise to find him missing every morning, as he had never left the apartment prior to what you have now labeled “The Collapsing Incident.”

You couldn’t help but feel lonely in the mornings, as you found yourself missing his vulgar comments and unwanted sexual advances. You had actually found your daily bickering to be a favorite part of your mornings, when Yoongi would be complaining about something completely mundane while you nagged at him to do something useful.

It was a weird sensation, and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to psychoanalyze yourself or not.

Although, you never had to worry whether he ever came home because you always knew that he be back around midnight. When he would think you were fast asleep, you would feel your bed dip slightly, his warm body gently encasing you in an embrace. You would fight to keep your breathing steady, lest he found out that you were aware of his nightly cuddles. Once again, you realized that you don’t actually mind this. You even went as far as to snuggle closer to him, seeking the warmth you never knew he could offer. Your brain told you to blanch and remove yourself from him, but your limbs never paid it any attention.

You promised yourself that if he ever made any move on you while you were asleep, you would immediately punt him across the galaxy and castrate him with a dull spoon. However, Yoongi never made a move to touch you, other than the sweet embraces he would give you. Nothing sexual ever happened, and you weren’t sure whether you understood why this was happening in the first place.

The both of you were supposed to hate each other. Well, maybe not hate, but you certainly weren’t supposed to just platonically cuddle with a sex-crazed demon. This went against everything you had ever known to be true. It was confusing, and your sleepy brain was much too tired to deal with the specifics.

And so, both of you went to sleep.

By the time morning came, he would already be gone.

––♡♡♡––

He never took off without leaving a little surprise, though. Every morning, you would always find some breakfast ready, with a small note from Yoongi saying that if you didn’t eat it, he’d jack off in your bed (or at least, that’s what you think he wrote, because his handwriting was horrendous.) Even though his breakfasts were usually just simple sandwiches or even some shitty instant pancakes, he’d always leave some without fail.

There was one particular morning when Yoongi had shocked you the most. On your small kitchen table was a spectacular assortment of breakfast food, from omelettes and bacon to French toast and oatmeal. All of the things on the table looked absolutely delicious, but you couldn’t help but wonder where he could have gotten the ingredients. You suspected some thievery was done here, but you weren’t sure whether Seokjin would actually have this much ingredients in his pantry, nor were you sure whether Yoongi was actually that amazing of a thief that he was able to steal of all of this without alerting anyone.

Yoongi had left another note for you that morning, explaining how he “had overcooked for himself and everything here is just leftovers so don’t let the food go to waste, idiot.” Uhuh, sure Yoongi. Leftovers meant that you had to actually touch the food, when all of these dishes seemed new to you.

(His eggs benedict? To die for. But you definitely wouldn’t tell Yoongi that.)

Despite these weirdly sweet gestures from Yoongi, you didn’t exactly feel assured just knowing he was alive and not knowing what exactly he was doing when he went off doing whatever it was he did.

Your suspicions were raised even further after coming home one afternoon from school when you “coincidentally” crossed paths with Seokjin, the handsome neighbor from before. He had asked you where Yoongi had been going to these past couple of days, explaining that he was shocked to see that Yoongi had actually donned a shirt during his daily escapades.

“You’ve seen Yoongi leave in the morning?”

“Oh yes, I have. You don’t know where he’s been going either?” You shook your head.

“Ah, so you don’t know why he was wearing shirt then? I was so surprised when I saw him—and it was a nice shirt, mind you. Although, I was quite confused when he had gone out in a shirt that looked eerily similar to one of my own—a shirt which I haven’t seen in my closet these past few weeks...” he trailed off, but you quickly dashed into your apartment before he could make any connections.

What was Yoongi doing? You don’t think you had ever seen Yoongi wear a shirt, much less a nice one, as Seokjin had put it. What if he was...

Dangerous thoughts, Y/N. Let’s stay focused.

Alright. Time to stop overthinking things and just get shit done. If you wanted to know what was happening, you were going to have to take matters into your own hands.

After a week had passed, you had finally had enough. So, you stayed up one night in order to corner him just as he had gotten back home.

It was around 1AM when Yoongi arrived, your ears alerted of the tired sigh coming from the doorway.

When Yoongi entered the living room, he was surprised to see that you were still sitting on the couch, seemingly watching a show on the television. That is, until he realized that the television was on mute and that you had probably been waiting for him to get home.

His surprise morphed into a scowl, which you assume was because his face was merely reverting back to its natural state (unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had actually been pouting because he had been excited to cuddle you while you were asleep, but he definitely wouldn’t be caught dead saying that to your face.)

You decided to cut to the chase. “Where have you been going everyday? Where have been getting money to buy all my food in the morning? Have you been eating? And when did you start wearing a shirt?” You asked, the questions flowing from your mouth one after the other.

Yoongi just brushed you off, going to the kitchen instead of answering. “What do you want to eat for dinner?” He asked, already pulling out a pan and some ingredients.

While you were sort of used to the little breakfast surprises in the morning, Yoongi never really asked you about dinner since he always got home so late (he just silently hoped that you would eat dinner on your own accord, which you didn’t. Idiot.)

“Tell me what you’re doing first.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What does it matter? I’m going to cook spaghetti, and you’re not allowed to complain.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the spaghetti!” You screamed, extremely frustrated by his offhandedness. Amidst your exasperation was a bit of nervousness too, and you knew that it was absolutely ridiculous.

In the back of your mind, numerous questions began to form. What if he was seeing someone? He was an incubus after all! You were aware that he had his... special needs. He wasn’t shy when he expressed these needs to you, and since you weren’t capable of satiating them... Was he...?

For some reason, those thoughts left a sour taste in your mouth.

You poked him in the shoulder, hard. He yelped, almost spilling the open packet of spaghetti sauce. You peered over his shoulder to see that the brand was of pretty high quality, and definitely not something you would normally have in your pantry.

“Did you steal that from Seokjin again?” You accused.

“For your information, no. I bought it.”

“How? I only leave like $20 for you everyday, and you haven’t been taking them recently. Are you stealing?”

You both had a stare down, the tension in the room rising slowly by the minute. After a while, Yoongi eventually acquiesced, tired from the day and wanting to finally get some sleep (and cuddle with you.)

“You’re so fucking stupid, you know that?” He shook his head, returning to his pot of spaghetti.

You glared at him, eyebrow twitching in what you thought was a menacing manner (but Yoongi differed.) “How does that have to do with anything? I’ll have you know that I am highly qualified to—“

“I got a job, you idiot.”

That stopped you mid sentence for sure. You gaped at him, not really sure you had heard him right because in what dimension would Yoongi, grouchy and lazy incubus extraordinaire, would willingly go out day and night to work?

In the back of your mind, you wondered—hoped that he was doing this for you. That he really was worried when you had collapsed, and that maybe he liked you the way you—

Stop. No. Those are dangerous thoughts. You are treading dangerous territory. Back off.

You tried clearing your head a bit, so instead you asked “Is that right? Then tell me this: what have you been doing for work then?”

Judging by your stare, you both knew what you were implying. He was an incubus, after all. What better way to earn money than by doing what he was created to do? Selling his body for sex—it was too easy.

Instead, you were surprised again by how he rolled his eyes at you. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I’m not a fucking prostitute.”

You looked at him defensively. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it.” He retorted. Ok, true.

“Well, fine. You’re right. But I’m just wondering, why didn’t you just... become one? Isn’t that like, the easiest method for you?” You reasoned, saying method in air quotes.

Yoongi didn’t reply. Why hadn’t he? You were right; it was clearly the easiest way to acquire money. So why did he choose to work at some dingy production studio when he could earn hundreds more cash by having sex?

But he couldn’t reply, because he didn’t know why.

He was rubbing his neck, a nervous tick you noticed he did whenever he wanted to avoid something he didn’t want to deal with. He coughed, clearing his throat. “A-anyway, whatever. The point is, I got a job. A legal job, mind you. You don’t need to worry about feeding me anymore. Besides, I have been a bit of a freeloader, and I don’t want you missing meals for me because I don’t like my partners half-dead. Also, I wouldn’t even be needing to be fed if you would just let me fuck you already then I could be on my merry way, but noooo you don’t want to so now I’m here, feeling guilty as fuck because I’m the reason you’re so damn tired all the time and honestly this whole situation is kinda shitty for you, so I’m just trying to make things better—“

He didn’t even know what the fuck he was saying at that point, with some of his innermost thoughts accidentally mingling into his words. He could have gone on revealing even more of his embarrassing feelings when he suddenly felt your lips touch his cheek, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

Just like that morning many days ago, you had kissed him on the cheek again. He paused in his movements and really looked at you. A brief silence encompassed the two of you before you suddenly pull his face towards yours. And goddamn, he lets you.

So you kissed him on the other cheek. Then you kissed his nose, his eyelids, and his forehead. It was only when you press your foreheads together when he noticed: you were crying.

In the back of Yoongi’s mind, your voice echoed, “It’s my way of saying thank you.”

Yoongi cupped your face gently, tilting it upwards so that your own teary eyes made contact with his own. He was searching for something; for what, neither of you knew.

“Wha—?” You hiccupped, your eyes bugging at his odd demeanor. Did he want you to stop?

“Just be quiet. Continue what you were doing.”

“I—ok. Ok.”

“Ok.”

The only noise that filled you small apartment was the hushed sounds of lips meeting skin. Yoongi nuzzled his nose deep into your neck, making you sigh in contentment. It was as if time had stopped; you were no longer aware of what happened outside of this moment. It was only you and Yoongi—nothing more, nothing less.

If the warm feeling in Yoongi’s chest felt so damn good, then why did your tears taste so bitter? In the back of Yoongi’s mind, he swore that he would never let your tears spill ever again.

Suffice to say, the spaghetti was left forgotten.

After a while, Yoongi deemed it was getting too late and decided it was time for you to get some sleep. As Yoongi started pulling you by the hand to your bedroom, it was only then when you thought to break the silence.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You whispered, voice shaking as much as your hands were. Yoongi grip tightened on yours; he wished they wouldn’t shake at all.

“I could ask the same to you.”

When the two of you reached your bed, Yoongi lifted the covers for you, allowing you to enter the bed first before staring awkwardly at you, unsure of what to do. You managed to send a small smirk to him.

“Why so shy all of a sudden? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for a week now.”

Yoongi spluttered. “Wait, you knew?” And you hadn’t been disgusted?

The bed shuffled as you moved to the side, making space for Yoongi. You tugged his arm forward. He lets you. (He’s so fucking stupid sometimes.)

“Just come here. Let’s sleep.”

Despite sleeping in the same bed together with the both of you still conscious, no “merrymaking” was done that night, and Yoongi amazed himself once again when he realized that he was perfectly fine with that.

If anyone ever found out that the sex-addicted demon was getting the fuzzies from a couple of nights cuddling with you, he was sure that he would be executed on the spot. But when your small hands cupped his face so tenderly in the quietness of your room, Yoongi couldn’t find it within himself to care, not when he felt this warm.

You snuggled up to each other, with your head resting on his chest, and you fell asleep like that. The last thing you heard was the sound of his heart as it slowly faded away from your mind, losing yourself to the dreamless abyss. It was the best sleep you had in ages.

It was in that moment, when he was watching the small puffs of air being exhaled from your open mouth and your eyelashes fluttering in your sleep, that Yoongi wondered for the first time in his life if this was what it would have felt like to be human. If it was, then humans were the luckiest creatures on earth.

Not for the first time, he yearned. But this was the first time he had ever yearned for something more than anything instantaneously gratifying.

The thought scared him—that you were able to wrap yourself so tightly around his life in just a few weeks. He knew that he should be careful, that he should not forget who he was above all else.

But as the warmth from your body slowly lulled him into slumber, he honestly couldn’t give a damn in that moment, especially when he had never felt this content in his life.

For once, Yoongi was happy, and he yearned for it to stay that way. Because the devil only knew how much he fucking deserved this.

––♡♡♡––

But alas, the moment does not last.

When the two of you awaken, the warm feeling in Yoongi’s chest had long since turned cold.

Yoongi’s time was running out.

[luffysfakebeard]

Okay, so I've always wanted to read a fic where Isak learns about how schizophrenia runs in families, so he has a chance of developing the disorder later in life. So i just want him to freak out about and Even to be super sweet and comforting and help him calm down

Be Brave For You; 2.1k[AO3]

Even had noidea why Isak had gone white as a ghost and practically ran out of the café, but he was rushing after him anyway.  His shift had almost been over anyway; no onewas going to notice him leaving three minutes early.

He hoped.

“Isak, Isak,hey!” Even managed to catch Isak’s wrist and pull him back, but his face fellwhen he saw the state Isak was in.  Hischest was rising and falling faster than could possibly be comfortable, and hispanicked eyes were brimming with tears.

“Baby, whathappened?” Even pulled Isak closer to him until Isak’s back was pressed againsthis chest.  “Here, breathe with me.” Evenwhispered in Isak’s ear as he splayed a hand lightly over Isak’s chest.  He kept his breathing slow and steady andeven in Isak’s ear, feeling Isak’s heart hammering painfully under his hand.

It took a fewminutes, but slowly Isak’s breathing regulated and he slumped back againstEven.

“Let’s get youhome.” Even pressed a kiss to Isak’s cold tear-damp cheek and wrapped Isak’sjacket tighter around him before he started guiding Isak down the street.  Thankfully the café wasn’t that far from the flat and they made ithome soon enough.

It probablywould have been faster if Even had just scooped Isak up and carried him, but hecould tell that Isak was feeling embarrassed enough about having a panic attackso publicly.  He wasn’t going to add to that embarrassment by swooping inand carrying him bridal-style through the streets.

They didn’t sayanything as they walked, and when they crossed the threshold of their flat Isakseemed in a complete daze.  Takinginitiative, Even slowly got Isak out of his outdoor clothes and into thesoftest pyjamas they owned.  He threw theduvet back and Isak – showing the first signs of being present since they leftthe café – walked over to the bed and crumpled onto the mattress.

Even pulled theduvet over him and stroked his curls gently. He was just about to turn to go make Isak some tea when Isak covered hishand with his own.

“Don’t go.”Isak’s voice broke, which in turn broke Even’sheart.

“I was going tomake you some tea?  Warm you up a bit?”Even rubbed up and down Isak’s arm through the duvet to emphasise how cold Isakwas.

“Stay.” Isakshook his head.  He looked so exhausted;how could Even deny him anything whenhe looked like he’d just been put through a wringer?

“Okay, baby.”Even nodded.  He shed his uniformquickly, trading it for some warm sweats and a hoodie, and got into bed withIsak even though it was barely 1830.  Isakimmediately shuffled his worn out body closer to Even.  He tucked his head safely against Even’s neckand threw his leg over Even’s lap, giving himself good leverage to snuggle asclose as possible.  Once Isak got settled,Even wrapped an arm around Isak’s waist and used his free hand to slowly scrapethrough Isak’s hair in the way he liked.

“What happened,baby?  One second you were there and thenyou were gone.” Even murmured, not wanting to speak any louder and burst thebubble they were in.

“Those girlswere talking.” Isak sounded so exhausted. Part of Even thought that maybe he should just let Isak sleep, but Isakhad genuinely scared him bolting like that.

“About…you?  About us?” Even hedged.  Isak just about managed to shake his head.

“No, no.  They were…doing homework, or something.” Isaksighed, sounding more and more tired with every word.

“Homework.”Even repeated.

“They weretalking ’bout…schizophrenia.” Isak mumbled, nuzzling against Even’s necksleepily.

“Oh, angel.” Itwas Even’s turn to sigh, dipping his head and kissing Isak’s forehead.  He watched as Isak’s eyes flutteredclosed.  “Your mum’s been doing reallywell lately, though.  That’s good, right?  We had that nice lunch the other week.” Evenrubbed Isak’s back comfortingly.

“Mhmm.” Isaknodded tiredly.  “Those girls…they weretalking about how- how it’s genetic.” Isak broke off to yawn, but Even couldn’thave felt less tired.

“Oh, Is…” Hewasn’t sure what to say.  He had a lot ofthoughts about it for sure; unfortunately they were getting all tangledtogether in one big mess in his head, which helped no one.

Isak took thepressure off his hands, though, by promptly falling asleep with his face inEven’s neck.

***

When Isak wokeup he felt like someone had attached a dozen concrete bricks to his body.  He felt heavy and groggy and all in all likecomplete shit.  He had no idea how longhe’d slept for, but the flat was dark around him.

Even was warmand solid and oh so reassuring under him, so Isak wiggled closer.

“You’re alive.”Even joked, his voice husky from lack of use. Damn if that voice didn’t do things to Isak.  If he didn’t feel like he’d been run over bya monster truck he might have rolled onto Even’s lap and kissed him senseless.

“Barely.” Isakgroaned.  His head was pounding and hischest ached and his eyes felt scratchy from the tears he’d most likely criedduring his delightful venture with public hyperventilating.

“I’m gonna makesome toasties and we’re going to talk.” Even promised.  Isak nodded in agreement, and a tired smilepulled at his lips when he felt Even dot kisses all over his face.  While Even disappeared to the kitchen andclattered around making toasties, Isak went to work on the tedious task ofraising his deadweight body into a sitting up position.

It took longerthan he will ever admit.

The main thingis that he was sat upright by the time Even came back with two cheese toastiesand a glass of water.  They sat closetogether, their knees brushing, and ate quietly.  Admittedly Isak felt better after he ate anddrained his entire glass of water, but he still wasn’t sure if he felt ready todelve back into the matter of his spectacular public meltdown.

He thinks hemight have started explaining it to Even before he fell asleep, but he isn’tsure.

“We don’t haveto talk about it if you don’t feel ready.” Even said, as if he could readIsak’s mind.  It was more likely that hecould read Isak’s body language, but the romantic in Isak liked to think thatEven could read his mind.

“No, it’ssomething we should talk about.” Isak shook his head.  He wished he could shake the heavy feelingfrom his heart too.

Even tookIsak’s hands in his, giving him his full attention.

“You know mymum’s schizophrenic.” Isak began.  Evennodded.  “She would see things and hearthings that weren’t there, and when it got really bad she’d accuse my dad oftrying to control her.  Like he wasinside her head or something.  She’dsleep for days, and when she woke up she’d be delirious.  She’d shout about whatever delusion she washaving, but she was always trying to warnus.” Isak’s voice cracked, but he was determined to keep going.

“It was sofucking hard to understand her, because her words came out wrong, y’know?  She’d be shouting and making all thesegestures but none of us could understand. She’d be shouting and screaming and crying, and me and dad just had totry to stop her hurting herself.” Isak wiped at his eyes roughly.

“That’sgenetic, Even.  Research shows thatyou’re more likely to develop psychosis if one of your parents has it.  They thinkthere might be a gene that makes you more susceptible to it.  For some people it doesn’t even manifestuntil they’re in their thirties;there’s still a chance it could happen to me.” Isak was shaking now, soviolently that his hand actually jerked out of Even’s grip.

“I’ll be therethe whole time, Isak.” Even pulled him closer, cupping Isak’s face easily inhis hands.  “Is, look at me.” Even heldIsak’s face until Isak finally brought his gaze up from his lap and showed Evenhis teary hazel eyes.

“If you do havethe gene, if it turns out you do have schizophrenia like your mum, we can dealwith it together.  It isn’t going to belike your mum, who was alone.  I know shehad you, but you were just a kid.  Yourdad could have done more; for your mum andfor you.  There are people out therewho are trained to help us, Isak.  Peoplewho train for years to work withmentally ill people and help us.” Even sounded so sure, so confident, that they could handle it together.

“This is such adick question, but…have you ever been on the other side of having an episode?”Isak cringed at his own wording.  Evenwinced as well.

“No, but I knowhow it feels to feel completely out of control of your brain.” Even replied.

“I know youdo.” Isak played with Even’s fingers nervously. “This would be different though.” Isak swallowed.  “I’d be- be seeing things that weren’tthere.  I might hear voices.  I might even get violent.” Isak couldn’t evenlook Even in the face as he said it.

“You’re not aviolent person, Is.  Not for the mostpart.  A diagnosis won’t change that.”Even squeezed his hands reassuringly.

“No, buthallucinations might!  Delusions might!” Isak wrenched himselfaway from Even in frustration.  Whycouldn’t Even understand?

“Have you everwatched someone you love scream at things you can’t see?  Or claw at their ears to try to get thevoices out of their brain?  Have you everlistened to someone you love cry and cry and cry because of something you can’t do anything about because it isn’t real outside of their head?  Have you ever had to restrain someone whilethey try to fight something that isn’t there? Or tried to calm them down and tell them that it isn’t real, even thoughthey’re so fucking afraid?” Isak’schest was heaving and he could feel the tears stinging in his eyes again.

“I can’t- Ican’t- I-” Isak’s words stuttered with his breathing, and Even was right there.  He positioned himself in front of Isak andpulled Isak’s hand up to his chest and counted slow and even until Isak couldbreathe again.

“I- I can’t dothat to you.” Isak choked, the tears trickling down his cheeks.  “I’ve been there, I was there for so long, I can’t make you watch me losemy mind.” Isak shook his head frantically. He could viscerally remember how afraid he had been during each andevery bad episode his mother had had.  Hecouldn’t justify inflicting that upon anyone else.

Especially notEven.

“You watch melose my mind all the time, Is.” Even pointed out.  “You think it’s easy for me, knowing thatyou’re still level when I’m high as a kite or crashed out?  Or that more often than not it’s you and myparents picking up the pieces?”

Isak shook hishead mutely.  He couldn’t even rememberwhat point he had been trying to make. He felt so deflated now.

“You alreadyknow that, though.” Even frowned at him like he was a puzzle that needed to beput together.  “What is it you’re reallyworried about, Is?”

Fuck.

How did Evenknow him so fucking well?

“She was soafraid.” Isak’s heart clenched painfully at the memories.  “I spent so long being afraid; I’ve only juststarted getting over it.  I don’t want tobe scared again.” And then he was crying.

Real, painfulsobs that felt like they were being pulled from the depths of his soul orwrenched out of his bones.

He felt like hewas going to shake apart.  It hurt tobreathe.

And then therewas Even.

Warm, solid,dependable Even wrapping his arms around Isak and letting Isak sob into hisshoulder.  Even’s hand felt so steadywhere it was cupping the back of Isak’s head, and Isak wished desperately thatthat would be enough to keep his mind from falling apart.

“Being afraidof being afraid, very Harry Potter of you.” Even teased gently as he rockedIsak slowly from side to side, like an infant needing to be soothed.

It just madeIsak cry harder.

“It’s okay tobe scared, Isak.” Even whispered into his hair. “I’ll be brave for you if the monsters come.” He promised.

It wasn’t much,but it was enough for Isak.

To know thatEven would still be there if he crumbled was more than enough.

[violetsystems]

#personal

I think there’s a big difference between being exhausted and being drained.  The truth of it has been that things have been exhausting.  I’ve been dreaming again recently.  You can attribute all the mysticism you want to that statement.  The reality of the equation is I’ve been sleeping better mostly because of a bed frame and occasional yoga.  This week I’ve quietly saved the day a number of times at work.  Often times in the middle of a class.  Once for a pulitzer prize journalist in the middle of Lawndale for a class about zines and another for the fashion class.  I wouldn’t say it’s thankless at all.  Most of the times this is what is expected to make sure things don’t get interrupted.  It just so happens my focus these days isn’t really out of line with that end goal.  I grew up making zines.  I even almost got expelled from a Christian High School for publishing a zine.  Some kids got a hold of it on a bus and their parents called the school board to report it as satanic.  Years later I’m under a desk reconnecting the hdmi cables.  Nobody wants to hear about refresh rates.  They’re too busy learning how to design patterns for clothing.  When I came back later to check in with the real technical staff the aftermath is peaceful.  They tell me the faculty told them I already came by and fixed it.  I get to rest easy I accomplished something in an environment I’m constantly inspired by.  Whether or not real life gets in the way is another story.  My book delivery finally came.  It was the second package stolen.  This time my neighbor’s package was also ripped wide open.  Eerily we both looked at the picture they took before leaving it.  Both our packages were there.  I spoke with the postal carrier who wasn’t very helpful.  Hung up on the police too.  Two of my neighbors gave me a knowing look.  More as if they believed I was definitely not taking any more shit.  People tend to rally behind that at times.  Awkwardly so.  The book I ordered was on recommendation from a coworker.  He had taken a class with a faculty member who is deaf.  The book about non-spaces was part of the curriculum.  The teacher had spent much of his time practicing lip reading on the train out of necessity.  He became an unintentional eavesdropper in that sense being able to read conversations presumably from across the train.  How we navigate our own personal space, privilege and lack thereof in this asteroid field of American society is an art in and of itself.  One thing is for sure is that it should be different for everyone.

We are all unique in some way or another.  I was thinking a lot about Bennu, this asteroid that could hit the planet in 2199.  The truth is that it won’t really destroy the Earth.  We’ll probably do that to ourselves far before that even becomes a remote possibility.  But all the time we spend focusing on reacting to anything or everything around us keeps us distracted from something.  Mainly reducing our personal accountability by doing something about it.  Some sort of focus is spent away from the self and what we can do however small to repel that kind of negative thinking away.  It’s always mostly fear.  If you aren’t fearful, people will intimidate you to instill it.  When people can’t manipulate you or make you afraid, they awkwardly kick the ground.  After all these years, I’ve learned I’m not afraid of much.  I am afraid of an asteroid wiping out the entire earth someday and erasing everything from existence.  More so than some ex tumblr employee turned hacker with a grudge wiping this very platform from the face of Verizon.  Or some targeted operation to delay my package deliveries to teach me a lesson.  The lesson is pretty simple.  I know how much of my time has been wasted out here.  If I wallow in all that I’ll drown myself in waves of depression and nostalgia.  I choose not to.  I see no results in that.  Everything I have seen results from since all the way back from 2013 has some sort of hope, positivity or inspiration attached to it.  I’m about to start gardening again this spring.  I got my start volunteering at urban gardens one summer with a friend from Detroit.  I was really lonely at the time and unsure of myself.  Years later I’m the complete opposite.  And I’m better at gardening for sure.  Mostly because I have more time to focus on it.  You put things into practice over time.  Centering yourself is a very nebulous way of phrasing it.  But it’s like throwing darts over time.  You know what your target is.  Where you are most happy.  Where you gravitate towards being positive by default rather than negative.  And in that I think you create a kind of non-space for yourself.  How it starts to feel after awhile when it bleeds over into reality is strange.  How your positivity and outlook on life starts to affect actual space by challenging and provoking the dominant culture.  If you are aligned with something in a positive way like feminism, activism, or the arts you stand alongside that as an ally.  A unique sort of hero that everybody talks shit about but nobody really knows.  A boundary or fault line nobody dares cross.  A bridge I already burned to keep myself warm.

These days I live in a little castle.  I’ve dug a mote around me and it rained a thousand year storm it seems.  This practice of writing here on the internet weekly evolved into something deeper for me.  It’s been a safe enough space where I don’t think it’s been abused.  I had to create a safe space for myself out of necessity.  I had to establish my own version of things and trust that people would take my voice and opinion into account.  The joke is nobody pays much attention to me here or otherwise.  They have a hallucination of what they think it is to be me.  One constructed like a patchwork Frankenstein of rumors, accusations, and fantasies.  I rumble through hallways and weave through streets and alleyways.  Secret territories exist where messages get passed almost like whispers.  They have their own semiotics and their own encryption and the weight of that is based on trust.  I build my castles like I build my relationships with people I love.  Unwavering and on a solid foundation of love and respect.  Just like I try to approach everything I do with some sort of genuine care and tenderness.  If people don’t see it I believe it’s not meant for them to see.  If people don’t genuinely connect I don’t believe it’s worth trying to force it.  You know when you are locked inside the orbit of another celestial plane so to speak.  You can tell you aren’t in Kansas anymore very clearly.  The rules in some places don’t apply.  And what you do matters more than ever to some people and less to others.  For me the big difference between being exhausted and being drained is inspiration.  I always felt that I wasn’t good enough.  People would throw stones at everything I would try to build.  After awhile I started to build things in silence.  People wouldn’t throw stones.  People wouldn’t even acknowledge I exist.  They still don’t.  And in that time I’ve built a literal fortress around your heart.  Almost as big as when Sting left the Police.  Probably a little bigger at this point.  That fortress is a perimeter of non-spaces concentrically aligned like a huge crop circle at this point.  A rhizome of connected points of power shared and distributed evenly across the world.  If I were drained none of this would have ever fed back to what it is now.  The real truth is that you inspire me more and more each day to align these things together.  All I ever wanted to be was closer to you.  I didn’t really imagine any of that was possible.  And it wouldn’t be if I didn’t take the time to listen to myself and do something about it.  I’m just going to keep doing it. <3 Tim

[okayjin]

Heart & Seoul - Chapter 19

LENGTH: 3741 words

SUMMARY: Knowing too much can be fatal... and nothing is as it seems. 

PART: 19/?

PART ONE|PART TWO|PART THREE|PART FOUR|PART FIVE|PART SIX|PART SEVEN|PART EIGHT|PART NINE|PART TEN|PART ELEVEN|PART TWELVE| PART THIRTEEN| PART FOURTEEN|PART FIFTEEN|PART SIXTEEN| PART SEVENTEEN | Part Eighteen

He reaches into pocket, pulling out the flash drive.

“Hopefully, this will tell us something,” he says with a soft smile.

“God, I hope so,” Jimin turns his head toward the younger, sighing. The elevator opens and the duo walk through. “Let’s get back to Yoongi-hyung before he loses his mind in that car,” he jokes, with a smile.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Jungkook yells, shaking her. “It’s just a dream, it isn’t real, Y/n! It isn’t real! Come back, noona, come back to me!” He grabs her shoulders and tries to make eye contact, but she looks right through him. Tears stream down her face and it infuriates him that there’s nothing he can do about it. He holds her upright as he kneels before her.

“I’m sorry, oppa, please,” Y/n sobs, looking at the space beyond Jungkook.

“Y/n, he’s not there. No one is there,” Jungkook shifts forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Come back to me, noona. Come back to real-life. Listen to my voice and come back to me. No one is there, it’s just you and me. Jungkookie and Y/n-noona.”

He repeats himself softly until the effects of the drugs wear off and Y/n slowly comes back to reality. It had been like this for the past couple of days, if Jungkook had to guess. Time moved differently in that small, dark room. But a pattern had begun to form. Every couple of hours, Sung would come in, give Y/n the drug and she would be out of it again. Always out of it. And every couple of hours, Y/n would wake up, but not quite. She’d yell at people who weren’t there and every time, Jungkook tried to get her to snap out of it, to fight it. Her moments of clarity were becoming fewer and farther between. He hated that he felt like he was losing her. It didn’t matter that she was right in front of him, as time was slipping away, so was she.

He drapes his jacket over her barely covered body, trying to give her warmth and comfort. He scowls as he sees her shiver in the black sequined dress that leaves her bare and vulnerable.

“Come, noona,” he pulls her closer to him as they sit against the wall. They sit in silence until Jungkook speaks up softly.

“Who was it this time?”

“Hmm?” Y/n grunts softly, tilting her head up to look at Jungkook.

“This… time around,” he clears his throat, treading carefully, “you were looking at someone, but didn’t say a name. Who did you see?”

“I saw my brother,” Y/n croaks, her voice cracking in the middle.

“Jason?” Jungkook asks, turning to Y/n, who looks at him surprised.

“A couple of days ago, you, um, were yelling. Jason was his name? He… you were saying he had died?”

Y/n looks down in embarrassment, acknowledging her hallucinations with shame. Jungkook reaches out to her to comfort her, hoping she knows he understands.

“I have two,” Y/n says, before elaborating, “brothers, I mean. Well I had two.”

Jungkook looks down to see Y/n’s eyes darken. He searches his mind for anything to keep her focused and talking. Anything to keep her present.

“Tell me about them,” he hums.

And so she does. She talks about her childhood and about her brother Yoongi and her brother Jason and how he always took care of everyone in the family. By the end of it, they are both giggling softly, and Jungkook sighs in relief.

“It’s great to hear your laugh, noona,” he mumbles, as though talking about it will break the spell.

Y/n smiles a tired smile, closing her eyes and leaning against the younger boy beside her.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Jungkook whispers softly. “What-what do you see?”

Y/n stays quiet for a while, and Jungkook looks down at her to make sure she was even listening. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, Y/n speaks up in a soft voice.

“It, um, it makes my mind relive memories. It’s like I’m there again, in that moment, except I’m not in it, I’m just watching it. I’m stuck reliving the past and I can’t get out. I’m forced to watch.

“And then I wake up, and it’s the such a relief because I’m not stuck anymore, but then I am stuck in a new place, one that’s not quite here but not quite a dream. I see my family. My friends. My brother, who is d-dead. And they see me. But it’s torture because they tell me I’m doing everything all wrong and I know – I know – it’s in my head but I can’t escape. They are so real, Jungkookie. They are so real and it’s getting harder and harder to tell when things stop being a hallucination and when they start becoming real. I think,” she breaks off, breaking in deep, staggered breaths, “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Shh, noona shh,” Jungkook murmurs into the crown of her head. A terse silence settles in the room.

Jungkook almost doesn’t hear Y/n whisper quietly, “I don’t trust myself anymore.” He squeezes her tightly, but says nothing.

~~~~~~~~

Seo-yun’s mouth hangs open in shock as Hoseok and Seokjin relay the events of the past couple of days. She never interjects, just listens with an expression of worry displayed on her face.

“So right now, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung are all at Jimin’s father’s work, trying to get the possible locations where she is being kept,” Seokjin finishes.

“And Jimin’s father is bad,” Seo-yun clarifies, looking between the two.

“That’s what we are discovering,” Jin nods. Seo-yun swivels her head to her younger brother.

“And you knew about this?” Hoseok remains quiet, keeping his eyes trained on his hands tightly clasped in his lap.

“Yah, I’m talking to you! You knew?”

Hoseok glances up quickly before nodding softly. “Noona –”

“Yah,” she barks, whacking the side of his head, “‘Noona’ won’t get you out of this! Why didn’t you tell me, huh?” She whacks him again.

“Seo-yun,” Seokjin starts.

“No, Seokjin stay out of this,” she replies, momentarily dropping her honorifics.

“I’ll get more tea,” Seokjin murmurs.

“Noona, he would’ve hurt people had I told anyone,” Hoseok bemoans.

“All the more reason to tell me! Aish, you idiot,” she huffs, before wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck and pulling him into a hug.

“Hobi, is this why you’ve been cancelling coffee with me?” she asks, after a break moment of silence. The younger’s head nods against her shoulder.

“Aish.”

“Noona,” Hoseok murmurs, guilt bleeding into his words.

“What am I gonna do with you, Hobi?” she snaps, though it lacks the bite from before. Instead, worry laces her words.

“Don’t ever think you can’t come to me, okay? Hoseok? That’s what big sisters are for.”

~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure your directions are right?” Jimin questions, pulling up to a broken-down looking warehouse. He looks out the windshield toward the building and the surrounding area.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I need to go here,” Y/n replied, concentrating on the papers in her lap. Jimin pulls to a stop and angles himself to get a look at the directions sheet.

“And you need to come here why? I know you said all of this is for class, but seriously? What could this place have to offer you? Are you doing an article on the street art on abandoned buildings?”

Y/n shuffles her papers, a pensive look on her face as she flips through them. She bites her lip, looking up to where Jimin’s eyes are trained. There was indeed and a colorful array of graffiti littered against the side of the building. Most noticeable, or most comprehensible Y/N noted, was the bright yellow flower in the right-hand corner of the wall, near the roof. Unlike the undecipherable scribbles that marred the wall, the flower looked almost… beautiful. It seemed so out of place. She looked down at her papers, resuming her search.

“Are you sure we came to the right place, Cricket? This place doesn’t look remotely safe,” Jimin murmurs once again.

Y/n looks up and smirks. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me to protect you then, isn’t it?” She pinches his cheek   playfully.

“Aish! I’m the one that’ll protect you,” he retorts, puffing his chest.

“Then where are you now?” you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. You catch a stray tear before it slides down your cheek. You shake your head, trying to erase the words you just said, even though it’s only you that heard them. Neither Jimin or the other You turn around as you slump down in the backseat of the car. You shut your eyes tight in an attempt to remove yourself from these memories, these hallucinations. You turn your head to the right, away from the memory in front of you, trying to block out his voice, and your own. If you had just let it go, Y/N. If you had just stopped…

You grab the door handle of the car down and tumble out in desperation, hoping this wakes you up. Yet, you’re still stuck. You see the pair of you walking back toward the car. Another memory, I guess.

“Y/N, I told you, there’s nothing there,” Jimin comments, walking next to Y/N back toward the car.

“I just thought…” she sighs. Jimin notices her genuine disappointment for the first time.

“Hey, it’s okay, whatever it is – wherever it is – we’ll find it. Even if we don’t get any sleep at all and the car runs out of gas,” Jimin says playfully, hoping to lighten the mood. Y/n cracks a smile.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal. Sorry that I dragged you out here.”

“If it’s a big deal to you, it’s a big deal to me. What matters to you, matters to me,” Jimin smiles wrapping one arm around her as they reach the car.

“You really mean that?” Her voice can barely be heard.

“’Course, Y/n,” Jimin replies, before splitting off to go to the driver’s side of the car. Y/n looks up at him and grabs his wrist, pulling him back to her. She places her other hand on his cheek, pulling him down, guiding his lips to hers. His eyes remain open and wide in shock before they flutter closed.

After a moment, he breaks away, whispering, “Yoongi.”

Y/n looks at him, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Umm, no.”

Jimin blushes and repeats himself. “Yoongi. Yoongi is your brother. I – we… your brother would kill us – me ­– if I…we…” he blushes, looking dowm.

Y/n looks momentarily embarrassed, her mouth hanging open slightly before snapping shut. She places a tight smile on her lips. “Right,” she says tightly, unable to mask the bitterness. She turns on her heel and gets into the passenger side of the car, closing the door sharply. Jimin gets in the car gently, saying nothing as he starts the car. He starts to pull out of the empty lot but abruptly stops, jolting Y/n who shrieks in alarm.

“Wha – ” she starts, looking wildly at Jimin, before he cuts her off.

“Fuck what your brother thinks,” he breathes, reaching for Y/n’s neck and pulling her toward him, smashing their lips together.

Y/n’s eyes are wide, but quickly close as she returns the kiss, matching his eagerness.

~~~~~~~~

You startle awake, sitting up quickly, panting harshly. Your vision blurs a little, but you can see a figure beside you move.

“Noona,” Jungkook whispers with a mixture of trepidation and relief.

As your vision clears, you can see the sunlight filter into the room from the small window in the upper-corner of the room. You gasp at the paint marking the wall beyond the window which strikes a memory in your mind. The yellow curves, once a mystery to you, is now clear.

“It’s a flower,” you whisper, not seeing Jungkook’s confused expression.

“What? Noona, what’s a flower?” His eyes fill with concern.

Your limbs feel like lead, but you fight off your exhaustion and raise your arm, pointing toward the tiny window near the ceiling. Jungkook’s eyes follow the path your arm makes.

“It’s a flower.”

I know where we are.

A/N: I’m so sorry it took so long to update! College apps are almost over so the updates should be faster!

Chapter 20