#some of you will never experience the joy of a cute person holding your foot and looking up at you as they tie your shoes

[vampirehizzies]

treech and lamina are that annoying/cute couple in high school that are always tying each other's shoes as some kind of courtship ritual/to show each other affection

[miekasa]

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact 

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. 

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up. 

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people. 

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much. 

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. 

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can��t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that.  I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

[saturnsstufff]

Hey Saturn when your free and got time could you pretty please do some dad Sam headcannons or a short fic, whichever you'd prefer! I just feel like we all need some dad Sam headcannons cause the discord got me thinking about him🥺 dad Sam my beloved

-👀

Honestly he is so fresh in my mind as soon as you sent this I had to write.

Amelia- Awsamdude

   Sam was such an amazing person. I mean genuinely, the man worked so hard for everything. He made sure the house you two had was comfortable, he worked hard hours at the prison, all well still experimenting with Redstone. But no matter what, he always made sure to shower you in love and affection. He never wanted you doubting your place within his heart.

   Being his girlfriend, and fiancé was short lived to say the least. He wanted to marry you so bad. Calling you his, and only his, was such a high honor to him. After settling down into the comfort of a new chapter in life, you both did start to notice something feeling off or missing. It's said a lot like that, but Sam and you just genuinely felt a little off, and lonely without a little extra spunk.

   So naturally when he climbed over you, and suggested maybe bringing a baby into the world, you both broke into wide smiles. It was genuinely the cutest thing ever. He was so happy that you were the mother, well you were happy he was the father.

   When you told him you were actually pregnant, he couldn't contain his pure joy and excitement. He had wanted a family for so long, just something he could call his own. He wanted moments with his children like their first Christmas, Easter, ect. He also wanted the little moments in between them.

   He knew pregnancies were hard, and he apologized the whole nine months. although he knew the ending was oh, so worth it, the track there was rough. But he adored every trimester you went through. What started as a adorable little bump, turned into something he could gently lift and hold for you.

   His favorite thing ever, had quickly become the moments you laid against him in bed. With his hand on your stomach, rubbing gentle loving shapes, as the two of you rested your heads together. Loving the soft gentle moment you always shared. He always made you feel so safe, and you always clamed his nerves, relieving any stress held from his day.

   He was one of those dad's that just adored your tummy. He always had a hand or his hands on it. Wanting to just feel close to his child and you. Of course he would also lay his head on your lap and talk to the baby bump. Saying he couldn't wait to meet his little bundle.

   When the baby was born he was in love. It was an adorable baby girl, curled up ever so small within your arms. Sam loved the name Amelia, finding it perfect for his little darling.

   Well you recovered, Sam was the most perfect dad ever. He never failed to get up at night if Amelia was fussy. Her little cries always cut short at the sight of her strong daddy coming to get her. He would lay her on his chest and rock so gently, singing softly and humming sweet lullaby's so she could sleep peacefully.

   You would often catch him slipping back into bed from one of the nightly cries. His arm slipping around your waist tightly. Pulling your body close to his. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips when you nuzzled his chest. Of course he nuzzled into your neck, finding comfort with your soft presence.

   One particular day would always stick out to you. Sam had been working long shifts at the prison, now that dream inhabited the prison he took his job very seriously.

   But because of his long hours, Amelia and you have been left alone. Sam didn't want to be gone from his two girls of course. But he also didn't want to leave dream alone.

   Luckily one night he came back early, and trust me you were very thankful. Amelia wouldn't stop crying, she just wanted her dad. The crying was starting to take a toll on you as well. As soon as your armor covered husband walked in, you literally cried. Throwing your arms around him you sobbed into his chest. Overwhelmed from being too tired. Of course Sam was shocked and worried when his first interaction home was his wife sobbing into his chest.

   "Baby... Hey... Is Amelia ok?..." he asked softly. Gently rubbing your back, wanting to calm you down.

   “I.. I don't know! I.. I've fed her, and she doesn't need to be changed! Even when I hold her she cries!" Your tear stained face looked up at him. His face was only showing kindness, gentle eyes looking into your tear filled ones.

   "Baby... baby, its ok..." he took your face into his hands softly. Gently rubbing your cheeks, wiping away your tears. He pressed his lips to your forehead, offering soft moments to you to try and ease your worries. "Go ahead and sit down a moment, ok?..." he asked gently. When you nodded as a answer he kisses your forehead once more. Letting his hands fall from your face.

   He wondered into Amelia's room, his boots heavy on the wooden floor. As soon as her father came into view she reached out for him. Her little legs kicking away.

   "Hey... hey now... I herd my Little Girl was causing momma problems..." He said softly. Picking her up into his arms. With gentle rocks he walked back out to you. Ami cuddled into his arms, her crying now dying down. He offered his hand out to you. His other arm easily holding your baby. "Lets get you a bath love..." you nodded and got up, taking his gentle yet firm hand.

   Sam always knew what to do for you and Ami. Well you relaxed out in the freshly drawn bath. Sam had Ami layout on the bed. Her wide Grey eyes looking up at him with wonder as she tried to fit her foot into her mouth. Sam only chuckled at her cute actions. "What do you think your doing there? Feet aren't very yummy" he mused, setting his armor aside. Instead of pulling a shirt on, he just scooped Ami up resting her on his chest. With her cuddling down against him, he smiled at her. Every time he looked at her he saw you, and that only made him love you both more.

   When you stepped out of the bathroom you simply head for the living room. Feeling much better now that you had a moment of peace, clothing wise Sam's left over T-shirt acted as a perfect nightgown. When you found Sam, the sight was utterly adorable.

   Sam sat on the couch, laid out completely relaxed. On his chest, Ami laid completely asleep. Her soft cheek pressed to Sam's chest, his heart beat offering a soft loving tune. His hand was rested on her back, above the blanket that laid over top of the two cuddle bugs. Although his eyes were closed he wasn't asleep, with the soft pad of your feet he opened his eyes. Gazing up at you with adoring eyes.

   "How was your bath, baby?" He asked softly, moving a bit of the blanket for you. You crawled onto the couch by him. Nuzzling and resting your head on his shoulder the three of you all cuddled down.

   "It was long needed... better if you were with me..." he smiled and kissed your head. Taking in all the affection he was receiving.

   "We can always take one together again... maybe when Ami isn't so fussy..." he muttered, his thumb rubbing over Ami's tiny back.

   "She really missed you..." you said, looking down at your sweet daughter. Sam's arm snuck around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

   "Well I missed you both..." Sam said softly. No matter what he always found peace with you both. With both his girls. You two were the one thing he would give everything up for. You, his wife, the one person he confided everything in, and Ami. His daughter, the daughter made of his flesh and blood. He loved you both more than words would even begin to explain. No matter how fussy she was, it was moments like this that made up for it. Sam turned his head to face you, his lips pressing together a moment before he spoke. "I Love you (y/n)..."

   "I love you too Sam"

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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[kireiwoo]

[12:37am] # choi jongho.

“have you ever been surfing before?” you shake your head dumbly at the attractively muscular surf instructor’s question, drool accumulating under your tongue as he pushes his silky, dampened blonde hair back with the help of his veiny hand for the nth time today. your eyes are trained solely on the way his multicoloured wetsuit clings to the curve of his waist, a towel sinched attentively on the dip of his hip as he leans from one foot to another restlessly. choi jongho, you recall his name is; an awfully teasing and unbelievably strong surf instructor, but a damned good one at that. you’d seen him countless times before, teaching from children to relatively elder people the art of surfing—but you’d never personally interacted.

“well, i’ll have to show you the basics then, y/n.” your name sounded heavenly rolling off his tongue, and in spite of the awkward atmosphere, you smile for a split second before returning to your awestruck phase. he seemed pleased with his ability to render you silent with just a few words, his domineering prance to the countless lined surfboards making you meekly cower behind him. he hands you pink and yellow hibiscus-designed board, winking before retrieving his own one, and it feels like your soul has been practically revitalized from its cavern of hopeless romantic despair.

one thing that drastically separates him from the other lanky surfers is the buffed mass built on his body; his biceps are sculpted perfectly and abs poking through the thinness of his black wetsuit, and he stands tall as he waits for you to girlishly stumble over, cheeks burning and eyes dizzy from both the summer heat and his own blazing warmth. you offer a blanched smile, raising a hand to tenderly wipe the sweat drenching your forehead before attentively listening to his brisk instructions. his voice is endearingly high, like a grotesque rendition of a part-time schoolboy, but the smoothness of his curt instructive procedures calms the rapid beating of your heart; just listening to how he drones about his past experience and what to look out for.

it’s only when he stops speaking, gazing at you awkwardly that you realize you’d zoned out for the practical majority of his speech. something about how sea turtles were bizarrely frequent was the last sentence you’d coherently understood, but there was no remembrance to the actual information he supplied; and not wanting to make a fool out of yourself, you stiffly nod, pretending as if this prelude to your impending embarrassment was nonexistent.

and similarly to how you’d predicted, you ended up flunking and snubbing yourself vastly when attempting to surf. the ten-minute educational video about surfing you’d priorly researched was the basis of your attempts, and solid try after try, you failed in succeeding. noticing your perpetual struggle, jongho approaches you with a flurry of adorable bounces in his step; and whether it be the clustered shine from the water or the sheer determination bubbling in him, you could tell he was eager to help.

“you’re holding the board wrong—are you alright?” you gulp at his question, not physically responding but squeaking at his abrupt presence, “the preface of my entire instructional was about how to properly handle a board.” he chuckles as you pale considerably.

“i know it’s nerve-wracking; there’s so many circumstances in which this could end up negatively but y’know what, i believe in you! just keep trying!” his encouragement strikes a cord in you, making you feel unprecedented guilt for genuinely not paying your full respect to his teachings. receiving empathy was the last thing you deserved right now and you intended on informing him of your misleading mistakes. as he raves on more about how to hold the board, you clear your throat; his cheeks darken a tint and you wonder if he feels dismayed for bombarding you with loads of questionably useful statistics. clearly, he has a lot of knowledge and little space to exude it.

“i—um... sorry, this is probably extremely unprofessional, but i kind of zoned out earlier on account of...” you mumble the continuation shortly, squeezing the fabric of your swim gear impulsively. the action is shy enough to alert him that whatever you said might’ve been sensitive or out of anxiety, and although jongho hates to force you out of your comfort zone, his curiosity is insatiable.

“on account of what?” he echoes, a perplexed brow raising. his confusion makes you flustered as you recognize that you have to repeat the rather petulant phrasing you’d used earlier; but this was an invitation for honesty, and you’d use it wisely. “on account of my... uh—i guess you could say it’s a crush?—on you.” flabbergasted in silence, you frivolously panic over his lack of response—lack of movement; hell, he’d practically frozen, appearance glacial and destitute of emotion. perhaps you’d gotten a tad too zealous, using this opportunity too freely without conscience of filtering your words. maybe he was creeped out? of course, he’d only prospectively met you an hour ago, exchanging handshakes with the promise of professionalism and pledges to do your best.

although jongho would never confess or admit to it, he’s noticed you quite a few times as well. the consistency in your cutely obvious stares arose some sort of blushy lustre on his countenance, and he oftentimes found himself victim to stuttering whenever he felt that same admirable gaze boring interestedly into the back of his head. he’d taken notice to how you scheduled your time at the beach specifically to his shifts, and contrary to popular opinion, whereas people would find this dedication obsessive or unlawfully desperate, he found some sort of zeal in your commitment. that perhaps you didn’t just view him as some temporary piece of eye-candy to come and go, only to find purpose in staring at a random other beefy hunk. perhaps it was because he was deprived of his own romanticism, but he’d developed a slight crush on you as well. and while he had his suspicions of your feelings, there were lingering inklings of doubt shovelled somewhere in his brain—hearing this confession just made everything so... bright.

colours popped and the water was suddenly warm; the skies were perfect and the clouds appearing fluffy as wool. jongho felt a spark of electricity surge through him followed by a dull buzzing that lit his lower stomach. his face was vacant of emotion but the energy bulldozing through him was comparable to lightening. the water swished against your surf board, creating a satisfying sound effect as you gradually felt the anticipation eat away until you were left disappointed. but before you could squabble away, jongho had already wrapped his hand around your wrist, securing the grip with a gentle, complacent squeeze.

“you’re right—this is probably one of the most unprofessional things in the book, but... i, me—i kind of have a... tiny crush on you too.” he looked away after the exposition, teeth impulsively biting his lip even though you’d already confirmed your own feelings. your heart stuttered momentarily and in a fit of joy, you’d tackled jongho straight into the pearlescent water, eyes pure with happiness and smile contagious.

choi jongho is a part-time surf instructor; he works mondays to fridays and generously shows up for work on volunteered, non-paid shifts simply because he loves his job. he enjoys recanting stories of past bizarre experiences and he loves the ocean above all—however, he wouldn’t mind bending a few expectations and rules simply to appease his infatuation, and although it was completely unprofessional, maybe he could teach you how to surf outside of work? or catch dinner by the bay? maybe even watch those darned sea turtles toddle up to the shore to greet the locals, but whenever and whatever it was, he knew he would have a partner in crime now—and you knew that you’d have a talkative yet awkward sweetheart to lug around with you; perhaps, things really did work out in the end.

[theoreticslut]

George x short fem reader

Requested by @pastanest 

warnings: fluff

A/N: this request is so freaking cute! It made me so happy to read and then try to figure out how to write. I, myself, am a pretty short person at around 5′4 so george would still tower over me which i would honestly love to experience but we don’t need to get into that right now. anyways, this is just fluffy with a bit of a protective reader and its cute. I hope you like it!! also, pls don’t judge some of my curses; I’m well aware some of them are questionable...

Dating a giant is fun; you always have someone to completely smother you when cuddling, when you steal their shirts you know they’ll always be long enough, and you’re favourite part of it - you always feel safe because you have a bloody giant as a boyfriend to protect you.

The only downfall you’ve come to find is how many people like to criticize your relationship solely due to the height difference.

You and George have been dating for nearly a year and you’ve lost count of how many comments have been made that you’re too short to be with him. At first it was fine, people just pointing out the obvious, right? After a year of it though, you’re tired of hearing it. You and George love each other and you’ve never given anyone a reason to think you weren’t good together, yet people continue to joke about how you won’t work out due to just how short you are compared to him.

You were honestly starting to wonder if maybe everyone else was right. Maybe you and George really weren’t going to work out.

“Princess, what are you thinking about?” George asks, noticing how distant you’ve become over the last half hour or so while hanging out.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing important.” You give him a small smile, your cheeks tinting a light pink.

“So I’m nothing important?” He playfully pouts, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can’t ever refuse or ignore.

You chuckle and smack his bicep causing him to laugh and pull you closer.

“You know I’m only joking, sweetie. But in all seriousness, what’s got you so down?”

“It’s dumb.” You chuckle, blushing and looking away.

“I love dumb.” George smiles, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It’s just, I don’t know, does it ever drive you crazy how many people say we won’t work out?” You ask, frowning and not wanting to meet his gaze.

It’s a dumb question; you knew it didn’t bother him. Hell you’d be surprised if he even paid any attention to it. You were just feeling insecure.

“What are you talking about, love? Who’s been saying we won’t work out?” George asks, frowning at how obviously upset you are over this.

“Well, no one in particular really...” you trail off, glancing up at him frowning as you fidget with your hands.

“It’s just, well, ever since we’ve been together people keep saying I’m just too short for you, and because of that we won’t last.”

George watches as you explain all of this, watching as you fidget with your hands and how you will barely look at him. He notices how flushed you’ve become just by bringing this up. He smiles, loving how adorable you are. He couldn’t care less how short you are compared to him because there’s so much more to you than your mere 5’ height. True he was over a foot taller than you, but it came with so many benefits that he couldn’t understand how anyone would talk down on the height difference.

“Princess, will you please look at me?” He urges, gently trying to lift your chin with his finger.

You sigh, feeling shaky as you do, immediately finding yourself lost in his eyes as he smiles at you.

“Princess, I don’t care how many people tell us we won’t work out. You know why?” He asks, looking into your eyes, trying to read the emotions that swirl within them.

“Why?” You mumble, not sure if he could even hear you.

“Because what they say doesn’t matter. Not one bit. They say we won’t work out because of our heights? That’s pure hippogriff shit.” He says, causing you to chuckle at his wording. If there’s one thing George weasley is good at, it’s making you laugh.

“They’re jealous, princess. That or they don’t know the joy of dating such a short person. Do you know what I love most about you?”

“What do you love the most?” You ask, trying to hold back a smile as your boyfriend keeps his gaze locked on you.

“I love how small you are. I love that when we cuddle I can literally wrap my body around the entirety of yours. I love having to crouch down to be eye level with you. It’s so much fun! Why else do you think I do so all the time?”

You let out a small chuckle as he pulls you up into his lap, making you straddle him so you can look at him.

“I love how when I pick you up you wrap your legs around me so you know you’re at least holding onto something because you can’t reach anything else. I love when I give you piggyback rides and you’re so amazed at how different everything looks from my height. It’s the cutest thing to watch how excited you get.”

“But I think my absolute favourite thing is when you wear one of my shirts and it looks like a dress on you. Or when you steal one of my jumpers and it looks like it’s swallowing you whole. I love that.” He chuckles, remember the first time he saw you in one of his jumpers.

He was honestly worried how you’d be able to handle anything because not only was the top itself long on you, but the arms were so much longer that’s yours and you refused to roll it up. You barely had any functionality to your hands because every time you went to reach for something, it was just sleeves.

“And even though you are shorter than me, there’s so much more to who you are and why I love you that being short becomes so insignificant in the big picture I’m not sure why anyone would judge this on the mere height difference.” George states, smiling at you and admiring how happy you look now compared to a few minutes ago.

“I love you so much, George.” You smile, kissing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

~.~

Since your talk with George about the whole height difference between the two of you, you’ve been more than happy and it’s been easier than ever to brush aside the comments.

However, you’ve been having a bit of a rough week. You haven’t gotten much sleep since you’d been studying for a few different tests your professors decided to give at the same time.

You haven’t been able to spend much time with George lately as he’s had quidditch practice nearly every night to prep for the big game between gryffindor and slytherin.

Then on top of it, this ravenclaw boy, Alec Newton, has been trying to get under your skin for the last few weeks by either taunting you or criticizing your work or even trying to make fun of your appearance.

“Hey y/l/n! Wait up.” You hear him call.

“What do you want Alec?” You sigh.

“How is everything going with weasley? I haven’t seen you two together a lot lately. Has he finally realized you’re too good for him?”

“What’s it matter to you?” You ask, not having the energy to care about this conversation.

From down the hall, George is watching this play out, annoyed himself at how much it seems this Alec guy is annoying you.

“Well, if you’re single I’d like to take you out? I mean, don’t you think you deserve someone you don’t have to look up to. Someone who you can meet eye to eye with.” He asks a bit too smugly for your liking.

George gawks at this dudes bravery. Just because you and him haven’t been seen together much this week he suddenly thinks he can make a move on you? He’s nearly ready to storm over and save you from this asshole when he notices you start to get angry.

He stops solely to see how this will continue to play out. George has rarely seen you get angry and he’s curious to see what you’re like.

“Excuse me? Are you saying that George doesn’t deserve me? And because of my height?” He can hear you ask, clearly disgusted with how this dude could possibly think that was an acceptable conclusion. He notices how you start to position yourself in a fighting stance, your hand tightening around your wand handle.

“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t you like someone you could-“

“What I would like, Newton,” you say, pointing your wand at him to emphasize your point, “is for people to stop pointing out the height difference between George and I.”

You buzz with the rush of adrenaline fighting gives you, not caring that you cut him off nor realizing who you have as an audience. All you care about in the moment is how annoyed you are at Alec and everyone else who has ever said you and George aren’t going to work out because of the height difference.

“There is more to our relationship than just our heights. In fact there’s more to us as people than just our heights. If you can’t see past that then I feel really sorry for how much of a ignorant worm you truly are.”

“But-“

“And truthfully, our relationship is of no bloody concern to you now is it? We’re not dating you, you mangy dragon, we’re dating each other.” You point out, waving your wand around animatedly to make your point.

“And furthermore, what makes you think I would go out with you of all people?” You hiss, pointing your wand directly at his throat as if threatening to cut off his head.

“You’re annoying and rude. You go around telling people that their boyfriend doesn’t deserve them when you know absolutely nothing about the relationship to begin with.”

“You pretend you’re some big hotshot that all the girls want, but in all reality you’re a sorry excuse of a wizard. You barely pay attention to classes, you can’t tell the difference between dittany and gillyweed, and your spell casting is so weak I’m surprised you can even cast lumos.” You continue, not giving him a chance to speak as you continue waving your wand around as you talk.

“I-I’m sorry.” He states, a bit scared at how harsh you’ve become as well as how you’re carelessly waving your wand around. He’s well aware of how intelligent you are and knows that you could jinx him without really thinking about it.

“Oh you’re sorry? Well that’s just great for you, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t opened your bloody mouth to begin with now would you?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hex you right here on the spot for being such an annoying rotten mandrake. If I ever hear you saying George doesn’t deserve me again, I will not hesitate to vanish you from existence. You understand me, Newton?” You threaten, your wand at his throat.

“Understood, y/l/n. Again, I’m really sorry.” He says, visibly shaking at the threat of being hexed.

“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and hex you anyway. I don’t want to hear from you again, and I better not hear anything about George from you either or I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself.”

“Y-yes. You won’t hear anything, I promise.” He stutters, hurrying away the second you lift your wand from his throat.

Once he’s run off you sigh, trying to calm yourself down. You relax your shoulders and run your hand through your hair.

“You’d really hex that ‘ignorant worm’ for me?” You hear George chuckle from beside you, jumping as you didn’t realize he had been there.

“Y-you heard all of that?” You ask, blushing as you’ve never let George see you get angry. You didn’t like when you did. You’d much rather try to keep the peace and fight only when absolutely necessary.

“Heard and watched it, princess.” He smiled, pulling you into his side, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Oh Merlin. I’m sorry, George. He just- he was being so annoying. Has been for weeks.” You sigh, trying to justify you threatening him.

“No need to apologize, princess. I thought it was pretty hot myself.” He smiles, watching as you look up and blush at his words, your eyes wide at the statement.

“I never realized just how feisty my girlfriend is, and I have to admit I quite like it.” 

“Seriously George?” You groan, feeling like he was just teasing you now. You start to pull away from him to walk back towards the common room.

“Seriously!” He chuckles, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling you back to face him.

“I’m glad you think I deserve you, if you didn’t I’d start questing how good of a boyfriend I really am.” He jokes, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“But in all seriousness, princess, that was really hot and I’m glad your mine. It’s nice to know someone loves me enough to threaten to hunt a fellow classmate to his death for me. I love you.” He smiles, pulling you in for a kiss.

“I love you too, George. More than you know,” you smile letting him kiss you again.

[sevlgi]

opposites

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

contents: college!au, good girl!rosé, bad girl!reader

warnings: none

synopsis: They say opposites attract, and when the campus’s resident sweetheart falls for a bad girl, Rosé discovers just how true that statement is.

a/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME OMGGGG  hope you enjoy, and I’m glad you like my blog ❤

word count: 3.6k

Chaeyoung has never quite believed that opposites attract.

To be fair, she doesn’t have much experience to go off of. Despite being attracted to basically every person she meets, she hasn’t actually dated much. (As her friend Jennie jokes, she’s not bisexual, she’s by herself.)

And obviously, she’s not only attracted to people soft and sweet like herself. Especially in college, it’s more likely to find people in sweats and ratty T-shirts than people in pink sweaters and cute dresses.

It’s no secret that Chaeyoung is a hopeless romantic, convinced that she’ll find someone who she just works with. It’s also no secret that she’s determined to find someone similar enough to her that a relationship would actually work out.

Imagine her surprise when her next crush is the complete opposite of her.

You’re utterly fascinating to Chaeyoung; every little detail about you absolutely contradicts her, and she thinks her parents would faint if they saw you. Unlike Chaeyoung’s usually well-styled hair, you look like you’ve just rolled out of bed to go to class. Your leather jackets and heavy denim look stiff to the touch, and your dark circles, tattoos, and piercings are enough to ward all your classmates away.

But somehow, all of it just draws Chaeyoung in more. She’d never dream of dying her hair as much as you do, or getting as many tattoos as you have, but for some reason, you intrigue her.

She still doesn’t believe opposites attract. You might be gorgeous, but Chaeyoung is sure that your personalities would clash, and a relationship, however imaginary it may be, would never work out.

Of course, she’s also not willing to admit that she’s wrong to her friends, all of whom insist that opposites do attract. She just knows Lisa would gloat, and Chaeyoung is never giving her friends that satisfaction. 

“Who’re you staring at today?”

Chaeyoung pouts at Yeri, who slides into the seat beside her with a knowing smile. Joy, on the other side, is already following where Chaeyoung’s eyes were earlier. “Hey. I’m not always staring at people.”

“Yes, you are,” the two other girls chorus. “Come on, you’re always searching for ‘your other half’ or whatever,” Yeri rolls her eyes. “You barely focus in class because of it.”

Studiously ignoring where you sit in the lecture hall (3 rows ahead and 2 seats to the left), Chaeyoung scowls and twirls her pen. “Rude.”

“You know I am,” Yeri smiles, beginning to scan the room as well. “So, come on. Who’s your pick of the day?”

Joy narrows her eyes; Chaeyoung’s a bit panicked to see that her friend is already zeroing in on you. “Wait… it can’t be her, right?”

“Who?” Joy whispers in Yeri’s ear, and the youngest girl’s eyes widen. “Chaeng, it’s not her, right?”

The blonde attempts to play it cool, asking nonchalantly, “Who are you even talking about?”

Both girls point at your back, the dark leather of your jacket and the two empty seats on either side of you making it unmistakable that you’re the one they’re pointing at. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s not her, right?”

Y/N Y/L/N. Chaeyoung tests it out on her tongue silently before realizing her friends are still waiting for an answer. “It… maybe, what’s it to you?”

Yeri groans, and Joy shakes her head in what seems to be disappointment. “You have the worst taste, Chaeyoung. I mean, she’s cute, but…”

To be honest, the most surprising part of the entire conversation is that her friends aren’t even teasing about the whole ‘opposites’ thing. “What’s wrong with Y/N?” Chaeyoung can’t help but feel a bit defensive; after all, it’s her taste in girls that was being attacked.

Joy leans in conspiratorially now, despite the professor clearing his throat at the front of the classroom. “Okay, so, she’s kind of the designated bad girl? I don’t really know, but I heard she’s killed someone.”

“What? No, she set a building on fire,” Yeri argues, rolling her eyes when Joy opens her mouth to disagree. “Whatever, whatever. Anyway, she’s bad news. She’s a serial dater, too, and she doesn’t like cats. Who doesn’t like cats?”

Chaeyoung’s eyebrows scrunch together as her friends argue. It’s probably not likely that you’ve killed anyone or set a building on fire, but still… a serial dater? None of it sounds good.

“Anyway, she’s the polar opposite of you,” Joy sighs, patting Chaeyoung sympathetically on the arm. “You know, you’re sweet and soft, and she’s… her.”

Suddenly, the professor clears his throat again and raises his eyebrow at where the three girls sit. “Ms. Park, Ms. Kim, the other Ms. Park? Anything important?”

“No, sorry, sir,” Chaeyoung blurts out, cheeks red. She’s not even blushing because she’s been put on the spot, though; it’s because you’ve finally turned around to look at her.

Maybe it’s the eyeliner, but something about your gaze feels like it sees right through her. With the tiniest quirk of the corner of your lips, you turn back around and leave Chaeyoung fully flustered.

Yeah, definitely a player.

Every day, Chaeyoung attempts to work up the courage to sit a little closer to you. She’s not making much progress; to be fair, you can’t blame her, when you’re usually given a 3 foot radius of empty space by everyone.

However, she discovers something new about you every day. She discovers that you drink black iced coffee (she drinks tea), and that you use mint flavored chapstick (she uses strawberry). You prefer cinnamon gum (which Chaeyoung thinks is a bit gross), and you only ever wear black socks (she wears white).

Joy really wasn’t kidding when she said you were Chaeyoung’s opposite.

Of course, it’s just the blonde’s luck when the professor announces a group project, and your name is the only one out of 40 that Chaeyoung knows.

It takes a lot of energy for Chaeyoung to approach you after class. “Hey,” she smiles; you don’t return it. “So, I was wondering if you have a partner for the project? If you don’t, I was thinking we could be partners…”

You look startled at first, though it settles behind a mask of calm indifference immediately. “You don’t have friends?” At the blonde’s wince, you roll your eyes, lips quirking into a smile. “Kidding. Sure. Let’s work together.”

“Great!” Chaeyoung beams, looping her arm through yours. You look even more surprised now, but it’s cute. Everything you do would probably look cute. “I’m Roseanne, but you should call me Chaeyoung or Chaeng.”

“I’m Y/N,” you offer. Your voice is quieter than Chaeyoung had imagined, but that’s probably her fault for thinking your voice was demon-like or something. “You’re a sophomore, right?”

“Right.” Chaeyoung has no idea how you know how old she is, but she can roll with it. “You?”

You nod, looking anywhere other than Chaeyoung face. “Yeah. Same. So, do you have any ideas for the project yet?”

“No, sorry.” She can’t help the smile on your face, still shocked that you’re holding a conversation with her and not murdering her already. “Let’s get coffee? We can talk about the project. If you’re free, of course.”

“I am.”

And that’s all it takes for Chaeyoung to grin again, grab your arm, and lead you to the nearest coffee shop.

Chaeyoung likes the way you’re honest about what you want. When she offers to order, despite knowing what you want, you quietly ask for the iced black coffee and hand her 10 dollars even when she tries to protest.

You don’t ask about what she ordered, and you make sure she tipped the extra before opening your laptop and asking for ideas.

As the afternoon goes on, you seem to grow more comfortable, and Chaeyoung can let go of some of her slightly forced enthusiasm. She actually finds herself enjoying your dry sense of humor and sarcastic comments, though she can’t really make any of her own.

By the time she has to go to her next class, Chaeyoung’s actually making jokes of her own, and she has your number stored in her phone.

All in all, a successful day.

“Hi.”

You look surprised (or as surprised as you deign to look) to see Chaeyoung sitting next to you in the lecture hall the day after the project was turned in. “Uh, hey.”

“How do you think we did on the project?” the blonde asks, taking out her laptop. She ignores the way you stare at her, hoping that you didn’t want to just forget her existence after the project or something. 

“Pretty good. You’re smart, I just helped a little bit.”

Chaeyoung laughs softly, swatting at your arm. “No way, come on. You’re smarter than your leather jackets let on, too.”

“And you’re smarter than your overly sweetened tea lets on,” you tease, a smile twinkling in your eyes.

She scowls and swats at you again, but you dodge this time. “I thought we agreed never to mention that again!”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Chaeyoung misses the way you smile at her after she turns to the board.

It becomes sort of a routine to sit next to you during lectures and copy off your surprisingly comprehensive notes. Chaeyoung can’t help but fall deeper and deeper at your ever-tentative smile, at each offhand, yet sweet comment.

All the little details about you, the tiniest things you notice, only make Chaeyoung fall harder. You buy non-cinnamon gum especially for her and keep 2 packs in your bag in case she wants some. Sometimes, you show up with a cup of so-called ‘overly sweetened tea’ next to your own coffee.

You see everything about her, and you both make the most subtle changes so that the two of you complement each other absolutely perfectly. Chaeyoung starts carrying blue pens because you prefer them, while you carry black ones in case either of you forget. You even carry a strawberry chapstick just for her.

Even Chaeyoung starts unconsciously enjoying the smell of your sweet mint chapstick; she wears it sometimes, not because she likes it more, but because she’s curious how it’d taste on your lips.

It doesn’t need to be said that Chaeyoung doesn’t just want to be friends anymore.

At first, she just wanted to understand you a bit better, to relieve her own fascination with you, but the more she learns, the more Chaeyoung is pulled in. It’s more than just a crush now, more than simple butterflies in her stomach.

Now, it’s an unconscious smile always tugging at her lips when you’re not with her, laughing at a joke that wasn’t necessarily actually that funny. It’s adapting to fit with you, and it’s accepting that maybe opposites do attract after all.

The only thing left is to introduce you to her friends.

“Are you ready?”

You frown, tugging at the sleeves of your leather jacket. Chaeyoung’s heart warmed when you offered to tone down your look for her, but she didn’t want you to change anything about yourself, so you just went with your jacket. “Sure, I guess.”

“Great!” the blonde beams, waving at Yeri and Joy, who she sees a few yards away from the huge table the two of you occupy. Behind them, Jisoo, Jennie, and Lisa lag, though they’re too far away to clearly see you.

Yeri’s expression isn’t exactly favorable; she stops right in her tracks to talk furiously to the others, and Chaeyoung frowns at the unreadable expression on your face. “Um… don’t worry, Y/N-ah. They’re probably just… talking about what to eat?”

“Sure,” you mutter, looking down. As the other girl has discovered, despite all your bravado and sass, you’re quite self-conscious. “It’s not like pizza is the only food this place offers.”

There’s no time for the blonde to reply; Jisoo, ever the tactful one, sits first and offers a tight smile. “Chaeng, good to see you. And you are?” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” If Chaeyoung didn’t know you well enough, she wouldn’t be able to see past the mask of bored confidence you put on. “Jisoo, right? I’ve heard of you.”

The oldest girl flushes and nods. “Um, these are Jennie, Lisa, Yeri, and Joy.” They raise their hands or nod when their names are called, though their expressions are hostile.

Just as Chaeyoung opens her mouth to try and break the awkward silence, Lisa leans forward with her eyes narrowed. “So. What do you want with Chaeyoung?”

“Lisa!” The younger girl is usually sweet and puppy-like, but she’s also notoriously protective of her friends. Chaeyoung doesn’t miss the way your eye twitches just the slightest bit, and she resists the urge to put her hand on your arm. “Stop it.”

“What? You can’t deny this feels an awful like you’re introducing your girlfriend to us, and she’s the worst girlfriend you could have,” Lisa scowls, crossing her arms.

You sigh, shaking your head and standing up. Joy actually lurches back in her chair, as if expecting you to beat her up, but you just toss a quick smile to Chaeyoung, picking up the leather jacket slung over the back of your chair. “I think we’re done here. For your information, I’m not dating Chaeyoung, even though it wouldn’t be any of your business if I was.”

All the other girls stare at you, including Chaeyoung, as you continue, “You don’t know anything about me, so don’t assume. I appreciate that you care for Chaeng, but this is not the way to show it.”

With that, you’re gone, a light brush of your fingers on Chaeyoung’s shoulder the only way for her to tell that you aren’t angry at her.

As soon as you’re out of earshot, though, she scowls at her friends, hissing, “What the hell, Lisa? It was not your place to say any of that.”

The younger girl looks sheepish now, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I… I’m sorry.”

Jennie, though, rolls her eyes. “Come on, Chaeyoung. It’s what’s best, you don’t want to be dating her. She’s only going to break your heart.”

“I’m not that fragile, are you serious?” It’s honestly pretty uncharacteristic for Chaeyoung to actually be mad, but she can’t seem to control her words when her relationship with you might’ve been ruined. “It’s not your business anyway.”

Jisoo bites her lip, reaching for Chaeyoung’s hand across the table. “Chaeng, please. We just want what’s best for you, and Y/N isn’t that. You understand, right?”

No, I don’t. I don’t understand any of it. “Sure. I understand,” Chaeyoung exhales, sitting back. Despite everything she wants to say to her friends, she knows that they have good intentions, however misguided.

She’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

You don’t show up to class the next day, and Chaeyoung sits alone in her usual seat, feeling empty when you’re not quietly making snarky remarks beside her.

It’s odd, and it really shows how much you’ve ingrained yourself into her life.

After a day of thinking, Chaeyoung has come to realize that, despite all her friends’ warnings, she does have feelings for you. She wants to be with you, to enjoy the little things and the small moments together, and she thinks you might feel the same way.

Obviously, she’s still too cowardly to actually go to you and tell you.

After you don’t show up for the next 2 classes, Chaeyoung dials your phone. You don’t pick up there, either, and she’s left to frown at her phone in the middle of the road.

She’s not a passive person, so she fully intends to do anything she can to make you talk to her.

On Monday, she decides she’ll text your roommate Miyeon, but she gets caught up in classes. On Tuesday, Chaeyoung thinks she’ll bring you some notes, but she forgets to write an extra copy. On Wednesday, she catches a cold and Lisa refuses to let her go anywhere.

A week passes exactly like that.

Finally, 9 days after the disastrous lunch, she manages to get your dorm room number from the office lady she bribes with homemade cupcakes. You’re always home for lunch, probably because you don’t eat with anyone but Chaeyoung.

Her heart thuds in her chest as she rounds the corner to head into your hallway, the buzz of other students around her drowned out by the ringing in her ears. She knocks three times- one, two, three- on your door and she waits.

You look terrible when you open the door.

The permanent dark circles under your eyes are ten times darker than usual, and your lips are dry and chapped. You wear a rumpled Disney shirt that Chaeyoung would tease you about if she wasn’t so concerned. “Um… cupcakes?”

“Thanks for coming by.”

“No problem.” The blonde watches you pour out some cheap, college-student coffee at the tiny desk in the corner of the dorm. “I was just concerned. You haven’t been to class in a while, you know?”

You sigh and hand her a cup of piping hot tea, already sweetened just like Chaeyoung likes it. “Yeah. I know.”

“Hey.” Leaning over, Chaeyoung places her hand on yours, ignoring the way her heart skips a beat at the skin-to-skin contact. Judging by the blush on your face, you feel the same. “You can tell me anything, okay? We’re friends.”

You almost seem to wince, though Chaeyoung doesn’t know what for. “Yeah. I’m fine though.”

“Was it my friends?” the blonde persists, her eyes searching yours for an explanation. “I know that they were really rude, but I promise I don’t care about anything they say, okay?”

Scoffing, you stand up, seemingly to get more coffee, even though your mug is full. “I’m not that shallow, okay?”

“Then what is it?” Despite knowing she sounds desperate, Chaeyoung’s mind is racing for an explanation, anything that could tell her why you’re avoiding her. “Please talk to me.”

The beat of silence that passes only makes Chaeyoung feel more anxious, like her brain is spinning in circles inside her head, and she almost jumps when you speak again. “Do you… do you like me?”

“I… of course I do! You’re my friend, I like you very much.” The blonde is well aware that that isn’t what you meant, but she can’t help but avoid what she really wants to say as she babbles on, “Why? Do you want me to show my platonic love for you more often?”

“Chaeyoung.” You place your hand on hers and lean forward with a serious expression on your face that honestly scares Chaeyoung. “I know that you won’t tell me honestly any time soon, so I’m just going to say it first. I like you. A lot, and not as a friend.”

As the other girl’s jaw drops, you continue on, the overly quick speed of your speech letting Chaeyoung know just how nervous you are to say all of this. “I know that I have a reputation, and I know that I’m too closed down or boring, but you’re nothing like that. You’re so sweet and gorgeous, and I just… really like you. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Chaeyoung reaches for you again, eyes searching yours for any sign of insincerity. She doesn’t find any. “You’re not boring, Y/N, not in the slightest. And I like you too, every little thing about you.”

“I don’t think you know enough about me to say that,” you try to deflect, but the blonde shakes her head.

“You’re so sweet to me, Y/N, and it’s not your fault that no one else can see it, but I do. I see all the little things you do for me, and I fall for you more every day. Maybe I don’t know enough about you, but I want to learn. If you’ll let me.”

A short pause occurs before you exhale quickly, swiping away tears Chaeyoung didn’t notice were about to fall. “Okay. I’d love that.”

“Great.” Chaeyoung sits back again, but just as you’re about to get up, presumably to busy yourself with a drink or something, she blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”

The surprised look on your face is so endearing that she’s already grinning when you smile softly. “Of course you can.”

The moment that you bend down and press your lips to hers, so soft and gentle, is the best of Chaeyoung’s life. She can finally taste the sweet mint of your chapstick, mixed with the unique taste of you, and feel the way your lips are slightly chapped against her own. When you pull away, Chaeyoung loves the flush to your cheeks that mirrors hers, and she can only grin when you move away to get your coffee.

Maybe opposites do attract after all.

“Hey, can I ask you something again?”

“You already did,” you joke, then laugh when the other girl pouts. “Sure, Chaeng. What?”

“Do you hate cats?”

An offended gasp escapes from you, matching your expression. “No, who hates cats? I think that’s the worst rumor about me yet.”

The blonde protests, “What about the one about you murdering someone?”

Sniffing and sitting with your coffee, you say, “I stand by my case.”

Cupping your face with her hands, the cuffs of her sweaters brushing up against your cheeks, Chaeyoung presses another kiss to your lips. The taste of mint and coffee, strawberry and tea, is the most perfect combination she could ever imagine.

[im-a-mint]

Our Prom Night

*: Trapezius: The space between the neck and shoulder of a person.

————————————

“You’re not a person

You’re my friend

If we do

Just by chance

Can we kiss?

Can we dance?”

- Blondie, by Current Joys

————————————

Prom night was supposed to be a good experience to have in life. Yeah, supposed to be, because when you’re 16 and you’re not what people expect you to be, your life is not going to be the teenage dream you thought it’d be. And so instead of being inside the school’s gym and dancing around with some cute date Kai somehow managed to pull off, he was instead outside and with his ego torn to shreds.

Being an abandoned child since the bare age of 5 didn’t bring any fancy knowledge. Between having to raise a 3 year old, keep both himself and his sister alive, and looking for ways to learn his missing father’s smithing abilities, Kai never had much time to learn how to do more social stuff such as dancing with someone. Yes he had a pretty much “cool tough guy” personality alongside an ego higher than the own sky, but all of that would dissipate the moment he had to do something he wasn’t even aware of how to do, in this case, dancing.

All of that confidence would be replaced with nervousness on sight and lead to a much more awkward situation, so when a girl approached him and asked for a dance, it wasn’t long before that same girl made fun of his inability to dance and left him humiliated, alone, and with a complete lack of any sort of confidence with himself.

“Hey, you okay man?” Kai was so submerged in his thoughts of what he had done and put himself into that he didn’t even realize the moment when Cole came out of the doors beside him. Even with his head hidden between his legs, Kai could tell his much taller friend was concerned about him by both the tone of his voice and by the look in his eyes as he sat down next to him.

The master of fire didn’t respond with anything but a small hum in agreement, yet this didn’t fool the master of earth in any way. That hum was the same as telling someone a house in ashes was still in perfect condition to be bought. “I saw what happened there with that girl, are you sure that you’re alright?” Cole asked once again, trying to hide the fact he wasn’t fooled at all even though it was actually pretty obvious he wasn’t.

It took a moment for Kai to give into Cole’s attempts for giving him help, finally sighing and showing his face for once even if he hadn’t said anything just yet. He was…glad that Cole was so supportive and understanding others, that he wouldn’t pressure people into telling him what was wrong, so even while that led to a small uncomfortable silence, Cole didn’t try pressuring Kai into breaking it.

“Hey Cole?” The other one hummed a bit in response, showing Kai had his attention “You’re…Your dad was a dancer right?”

Cole nodded “Yeah, you forgot about that?”

“No no it’s just— did he ever teach you how to dance?”

“He sure did, heh” Cole chuckled a bit, laying his back against the wall behind both of them as he undid his tie, looking up at the starry sky above them. “He wanted me to become a dancer like him one da, why you ask?”. Kai was a little nervous on how to follow his question. He wasn’t any sure how to ask for help as he never even got the opportunity to when growing up, so it took him a moment before finally continuing.

“Could you teach me how to..y’know, dance maybe?”

————————————

“I can’t believe you actually got me to do this”

Kai had his hands over Cole. One on his shoulder, the other holding his dance partner’s. A more than obvious blush was all over Kai’s face even if he tried hiding it by looking away or by pulling Cole closer and placing his face on his trapezius*, but nevertheless, it would always end with Kai having to embarrassingly look right at Cole’s face, tilting his head up a little.

“Oh c’mon, Kai, you asked for me to teach you.”

Meanwhile, Cole had his hand gently placed on Kai’s waist as well as he had his other hand holding his. After gladly accepting to teach his friend the ways of a dancer, Cole had decided to have a much more personal teaching with his new dance partner back in his home. He knew his father was away for the night due to a performance he had organized that day, so there weren’t many probabilities of him ever catching his son in the act at least for a couple of hours.

While Cole was having the time of his life being able to dance with someone he had (a lot of) mild interest on, and being able to actually impress him using his dance abilities, Kai was absolutely panicking in the inside due to everything. Not only were their bodies really close to each other, but it was also a pretty intimate moment that he was sharing with Cole out of all people. Cole Brookstone. The guy Kai had had a crush on for god knows how long. Kai was slow dancing in his crush’s living room, with his crush, while listening to slow, romantic songs playing on the radio; and then you add his nervousness of fucking up since he has no previous dancing experience…it just turns him in such a nervous, blushed wreck.

And Cole loves every second of it. He loves seeing how easy it is to turn Kai from a confident cool guy to nothing but a nervous mess. It’s charming, to him, how he can flip both sides of the same coin in less than a second.

“You’re doing better than the average new dancer, you know that? I can’t recall you stepping on my foot once” Cole complimented with a calm smile, having a light blush of his own as he looked at Kai and was basically admiring every single of his face details. How Kai’s eyes were just slightly shinier than the average or how his pinkish lips made a contrast with his tan skin. It was all lovely in Cole’s eyes, and it was all worthy of admiration and praise.

“Wait- wait really?” Just that simple comment made Kai’s eyes light up even more, making him feel just a little bit less nervous than before. At least he knew he wasn’t disappointing but rather impressing his partner, which obviously made his already lovestruck self just internally start celebrating and screaming it’s heart out.

“Yeah! You’re really nice at this!” Cole smiled gleefully, not realizing he had impulsively pulled Kai closer to him and spun him around just a bit faster than before, making Kai slip before his partner managed to catch him from falling and pulling both of them off their balances, ending up in quite the position. Cole had, accidentally, ended up dipping Kai and with both of their faces just inches from each other. It took Kai a moment to process everything before his face went even redder and warmer than before.

"I-I'm sorry I'll-"

"Can I kiss you?"

Cole asked out of the blue, taking the chance to finally get to kiss the person he's been more than just interested in, and there's no better time than this. With both of them close, in private, and having a much intimate time with each other without it having to be any sensual in any way.

This question shocked Kai, nonetheless, making his heart skip a beat before nervously nodding to answer yes to that question, soon feeling Cole's lips over his as they soon shared their first kiss together, Kai finally deciding to take the reels for a moment and show Cole his experience with kissing before. Of one of them was already able to show their experience on something, he might as well try to as well.

That was the first night in what felt like ages where Cole actually celebrated knowing how to dance.

[northlight14]

A love for love

Description: Roman loved love. He always had, even as a small child. So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

TW: panic attack, mention of making out but nothing is actually shown, cursing, questioning, unrequited love, let me know if I should add anything else

Ships: unrequited royality, platonic roceit, dukeceit

Genre: high school au

Prompt: prompt 6, aromantic (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Roman loved love. He always had. Even as a small child, he'd watch wide eyed as Prince Charming leaned down and gave sleeping beauty true loves kiss, something so powerful that it was able to break an evil witches curse. He'd stayed up till early hours in the morning, squealing with excitement as he read about two warriors able to take on an entire army, motivated by their want to keep the other safe and stealing glances at each other as their metal swords collided with the enemies weapon. He'd sing his heart out when a romance song came on the radio, gushing about their love interest with such emotion that Roman adored.

Yes, Roman loved love.

So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

The earliest memory Roman had of this was when he was in first grade. Two of his classmates ran up to him giggling as they sang "Savannah has a crush on you!" Instead of feeling that overwhelming joy like the ones described in his books and music, he felt a deep cutting disgust in his stomach. Roman felt less like he could conquer the world and more like the world was going to swallow him whole. Rather than singing any great love song that he'd sang so many times in his room or in the car, he began crying instead while the two girls looked at him in confusion.

"It was just because I don't like her." Roman told himself.

But this feeling of being out of place only grew as his fellow classmates gushed about their boyfriends and girlfriends, crushes and which cartoon character they find cute. Granted, they were in second and third grade, so the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" roughly translated to "they let me borrow their crayon at break once and now we're in love and going to get married." However, this love for love spread like a virus and Romans desire to fit in only grew. So, during a sleepover with his friends, Roman looked upon the TV, at the princess Aurora and decided 'She'd make a good crush.' Before announcing it to the crowd of toddlers, the words immediately sounding wrong as he spoke them, as if he'd spoken them in a foreign language. He decided that night to never speak of his supposed "crush" ever again. Roman liked Aurora with Prince Philip much more, anyway.

Roman was in fifth grade when he was talking to one of his best friends, Valorie. The two of them just laughing and joking when his friends approached.

"Who's your girlfriend, Ro?" one laughed, putting his arm around Roman. And he knew it was a joke. He knew that. But it still felt like the arm hadn't wrapped around his shoulders and instead knocked all the air out his lungs in one hard punch. This moment lingered in his mind like a haunting apparition, quickly causing any friendships with girls to become strained. First only talking occasionally while in class or on the yard, to only talking when his guy friends weren't around, to only texting outside of school to nothing at all. Roman mourned these friendships but it had been made clear that boys and girls couldn't just be friends and the idea of people thinking he was dating any of these people made him feel like a caged bird.

Later that year Roman decided, despite his love for love, he didn't want to date. The reason for this being...

"I'm just more focused on my career."

"I just don't see the point in dating right now."

"I've never really liked anyone so what's the point?"

"I just like being more focused on myself."

And any other excuse he could possibly come up with, repeating them as many times as he needed to to believe them. Roman had always been a good actor, after all. But, of coarse, with this supposed decision came "reassurance" from adults, as if they had the ability to see the future.

"You just haven't met the right person, yet."

"You'll change your mind one day, when you get a bit older."

"All kids say that at your age."

"Roman isn't interested in dating YET."

These invalidating promises made Romans blood boil the more he heard them. It was as if he was yelling while trapped in a soundproof box, unable to escape. But, despite what seemingly everyone around him was saying, Roman knew deep down that romance just wasn't for him.

He also remained thankful that this love for love hadn't infected his friendship too much.

That was until seventh grade when what was originally a few cases of a love for love became an epidemic. It seemed that all anyone wanted to know was "do you have a crush on her?" "Did you hear that Lily and Reese are going out?" "Do you find her attractive?" This soon made its way over to his friends as they talked about how hot the girls were and teased each other relentlessly about who they liked. Roman once again felt like an outsider in his friend group. His friends conversations about their girlfriends may as well have been spoken in Latin.

Then the day came when his twin brother, Remus, came out as gay and started dating a guy named Janus. It then occurred to Roman.

"Maybe the reason I haven't been feeling anything for all these girls was because they were girls! Maybe I like boys instead!" Roman had never been a very logical person but this definitely seemed to make more sense. If he didn't like women then that surely must mean that he liked men instead, right? Because otherwise...otherwise Roman didn't know what that meant.

So Roman tried. Really God damn tried to find boys cute, to fantasize about dating them, to relate to gay experiences. But all he was met with was the same foreign and hollow feeling he'd felt when he lied about having a crush back in 2nd grade. Roman quickly began feeling his love for the concept of love diminish.

So when Roman entered grade 9, he decided to put anything to do with his romantic feelings (or lack there of) in a little box in the back of his mind to deal with later. Instead putting his passion and good acting skills to use by joining his schools drama department. The moment he stepped foot on stage, he felt himself come alive. The crowd, the praise, the creativity, it was addicting.

And it was only made better with the more friends he made. There was one person who he grew partially close to. Patton Heart. The two quickly became best friends, often hanging out outside of rehearsals and texting non stop. And, for the first time in what seemed like years, Roman was happy and comfortable.

That was until 10th grade. Roman way lying on his bed watching Netflix on his phone when a message from Patton came through. Roman clicked on the message and was caught massively off guard as he read it.

Patton: hey, Roman. So I've been thinking a lot lately. In particular about us and about you. And over the past few months I've started to realize that I have a really big crush on you. You're really handsome, funny and talented and I love spending time with you. It's totally ok if you don't like me back, but I figured it's better to be honest.

It should've been it. The moment when one of the main characters confesses their feelings for the love interest and they proclaim they feel the same way. Sparks fly and their hearts beat faster with excitement. It all becomes so clear when they hear that confession in movies and books.

But this wasn't a movie.

Roman felt time stand still as he read the message, his hands shaking so much he didn't think he would be able to respond even if he knew how to answer.

He couldn't breath. Why couldn't he breath?! The edges of his vision went fuzzy as he desperately gasped for air.

"Patton's great." He thought through his suffocating panic. "He's funny and charming and sweet. You should like him. Why don't you like him? What's wrong with you?!" Romans thoughts yelled as he tried desperately to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

Not sure of what else to do, Roman ran to Remus' room, hoping he'd know how to respond.

Roman knocked on his brothers door and Remus responded with a very annoyed "come in" after a few beats of silence. Remus and Janus were sat on Remus' bed and Roman could tell from their slightly red lips that the two had been making out. But he wasn't in the headspace to even pretend to care that he'd interrupted them right now.

"Ugh, what do you want?" Remus said, clearly too irritated by his brothers presence to notice his distress.

"P-Patton just messaged me s-saying he likes me and I don't know what to say." Roman barely stuttered out, trying desperately not to cry in front of Remus and his boyfriend.

"Aw, cute. Roro finally got a man." Remus joked but Roman was definitely not in the mood for that kind of humor.

"Do you like him back?" Janus asked, calmly, clearly taking more notice of Romans distress.

"Well, I do. But not like that."

"Ok, so just tell him that. It doesn't have to be this whole thing. Why are you getting so upset?" Remus said, looking at Roman as if he was stupid.

Which, to be fair, Roman did feel very stupid right now.

"He's my best friend. I don't want to upset him." Yeah, that was the reason Roman was freaking out. He just didn't want to hurt Patton. That was it.

"Well, just say you don't want a relationship right now or some shit. Besides, he's probably more worried now because you've taken so long to answer." Remus pointed out. Yeah, Roman was never coming to Remus with his problems ever again.

"Yeah...ok." Roman said. Slowly, he walked out the room, noticing Janus looking at him curiously but deciding not to focus on it.

Roman: I'm really sorry Patton, but I don't feel the same way. We can still be friends tho. It doesn't have to be awkward between us. Especially because I really like being friends with you.

Patton: Yeah, that's ok. This is kinda what I was expecting to be honest. But yeah, I still wanna stay friends.

A few days later Janus came over again for dinner. Afterwards, Roman went into the living room and sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram.

To his surprise, Janus followed after him and sat next to him. "So, how are you feeling after a few days ok. Broken his heart yet?" Janus teased.

Roman huffed out a laugh. "Uh, yeah, we agreed to just stay friends. Which I'm happy about but it's also really weird. I honestly don't know where we go from here which sucks because I really like Patton. Just not like...that." Janus nodded in understanding.

"You must care about him a lot if you had a panic attack just because you didn't want to hurt his feelings." Janus said. Roman just shrugged in response. "So, does that mean you like someone else?" Janus asked.

"No...I. I don't know. I've...I've never really liked anyone. I don't think I ever will. And people say I'll change my mind but...it isn't like I've made a choice. I've felt like this my whole life and everyone around me has had a crush on someone by now. I just... don't think I was built for romance. Which I know probably sounds stupid but that's just how I feel." He said, so honest it almost hurt.

Janus nodded slowly, taking in what Roman was saying. "It doesn't sound stupid." He said before pausing, as if considering his next choice of words. "Roman...have you ever heard of the term aromantic?" He asked.

"No." Roman answered, looking at Janus curiously.

"It basically means someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction. So they don't get crushes and stuff like that." He explained.

Roman felt his heart leap and for once it wasn't because of a fight or flight reflex. "Wait, that's a thing?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, a surprising number of people identify with it. I don't want to assume anything but I thought I might mention it just from what you've told me and what Remus has said in the past. Plus that panic on your face yesterday reminded me a bit of when I tried to force myself into romantic situations with girls." Janus smirked to himself.

That night Roman researched more on aromanticism than he did for his science test. The more he searched, the more it just made sense. Of coarse, he still had a long way to go towards self acceptance. Roman could feel himself already starting to mourn the idea that this was a choice he'd made ages ago and he was going to feel romantic love one day. It was an odd feeling, realizing that even though he knew deep down it wasn't a decision and he'd always hated when people made those comments, a part of him took comfort in adults promising that he'd change his mind one day. He was also horrified to realize that he didn't know what his future was supposed to look like now without romance. After all, media seemed to show single middle aged adults exclusively as depressed and lonely. But as he scoured through wiki articles to tumblr pages to memes, he knew this was a good start to unlearning any nonsense society had been shoving down his throat.

The more Roman learned and the more people he talked to online about it, the more he started to feel his love for love increase. But instead of it being centered on a prince and princess in a movie, two in love warriors keeping each other alive in a book or a cheesy love song on the radio, it was a different type of love Roman was finally starting to feel the more he accepted himself.

Self love.

Reblog’s >>>> likes

[absoluteindulgence]

Paradise (BNHA POC!CUTIES COLLAB)

Happy Black History, Honeys!!! I’ve spent the last 12 hours working on this and I’m still unsure of the finished product, please if you like what read don’t be shy to comment (or if you didn’t DM me, constructive criticism. I haven’t written a story in a while so have mercy lol) Characters are Aged Up🆙 but it’s fluff? I tried my hand at Ludus but can’t say I executed it right lol. Thanks in advance to everyone that reads it! I’m gonna go pass out now, respectfully.

The time you spent together always resorted to some kind of new fun. Always smiles and laughter, learning something new about each other. You didn't spend a lot of time together during your days of being highschool kids, but after some time apart and rekindling something most may call "Puppy Love," you've been finding more reasons to get out of bed.

Kirishima was strong and kind-hearted when you knew him back at U.A., Giving off the proper sentiment that would make you believe in yourself. It's kind of embarrassing how hooked you were to each other's personality, painstakingly apparent to your other classmates wishing for you two to just date but never doing so. Resulting in the classic 'Will They, Won't They' trope annoying everyone; Only to continue like that in your young adult years. Pushing your childlike fun on each other, date after date.

You woke up early, just to get a sense of the mid-winter weather. Still wearing your pajamas, you opened the window near your bed; the brisk air immediately greeted your room with little atonement to your mildly groggy body. You shivered right away, knowing that even though the sun was high in the sky, the wind would be unforgiving until the afternoon. Promptly doing your beauty routine, you dressed warmly and threw your hair under a cute beanie Kirishima had bought you for Christmas. Eager to meet at the station with your Red-haired date. It would be the first date you would've had in weeks, and ironically enough, on Valentines' Day.

As you reached the meetup station, he was already there, fifteen minutes earlier than when you two were supposed to meet. This was typical for him, and many times you had tried to beat him to the punch, but he was always one step ahead. As you got closer, he raised his head from staring at his phone screen, reciprocating the smile plastered on your face as you hugged him.

"Hey, Little Miss Cozy, you look great!" His sharky grin made your heart pulse.

"Aw, thank you, you don't look bad yourself, Kiri" You glanced at his outfit; he looked so stylish! His PR team has really helped him with his image since he graduated, and now he looks like he belongs in a sophisticated J-pop group. "I'm so glad we're hanging out today!" 

"Yeah, me too. Too much work and not enough play are bad for the body!" He dramatically sighed as you playfully pursed your lips in agreeance, and in return, he held your hand through your winter knitted mittens, "Plus, I missed my partner in crime."

Your face heated up from the sweet confession just to retort with, "I feel the same way, Handsome."

His raspy chuckle coming right after as he casually brushed his red hair back with his fingers. Kirishima had promised to make it the best day you could ever have on the holiday. Planning something you didn't even expect; an indoor Ice Skating rink. It would be your first time engaging in the sport, and you were anxious. Unsure about your own elegance and precision to be the best on ice. But he reassured that it would be a fun experience nonetheless, and you believed it would.

"Don't worry, Cutie, if at any point you think you're gonna fall, just hold me tighter." With his graciously, flirtatious wink, you were blushing, with a demure grin.

After traveling to the venue, Kirishima greeted the clerk who would be taking your admission tickets. Right after, you two went to the counter where you get sized up for the Ice Skates. After getting them, you were slightly frantic on how to tie them, bewildered by the laces and hooks. Kirishima saw how confused you were, lightly chuckling at your frantic fingers working so hard to figure it out on your own.

"Hey, don't stress yourself out before you get on the ice, let me help.'' He squatted close to your feet just to help settle your feet into the rented skates. They were a perfect fit, and as he helped, he looked up to beam at you. "You know I feel like the Prince of your story, ready to whisk you away after knowing that the shoe fits you so perfectly."

How smooth, you thought to yourself. Physically flustered and speechless, you had no cheeky rebuttal. Which only made the buff redhead break out into laughter. So many times, did his bold flirts silence you and make your heart flutter. But it was one of your favorite traits that he had. After getting your shoes on, you held his hand the whole way to the rink, continually repeating, "Don't let me fall, okay?"

"Of course, My Princess" He nodded kindly, taking on his role of 'Prince' too seriously. Bringing you to almost trip as you tried to hide your face. "Hey, at least wait till we get on the ice."

Another carefree chuckle leaving his toned body, making you happy to enjoy this experience with him. Getting to the rink may have been a battle, but now you were finally getting onto the ice, working your legs slowly to steady under the frozen ice. Not wanting to move too fast and create an inconvenience for anyone enjoying the rink. Gradually, you took a breath, calming down, as you held Kirishima's hand tighter. He smiled so warmly the whole time you focused on getting comfortable on the ice. The patience he carried just to keep you feeling safe and secure made its way into your heart, knowing that there was no malice energy.

"Are you ready, Princess?" Finally finding your footing, you nod. "Okay, then I'll teach you the basics."

His skating directions are so thorough and straightforward that you're able to follow them and feel like you can execute each move flawlessly. He politely assists you with your stances, placing his big, callous hands onto your waist gently just to help you find the proper posture to keep you from falling. It's fun learning how to do it, but now you're eager to start, and Kirishima can tell.

"Okay, Princess, that's all I have to share. Let's have some fun!" He holds your hand firmly as you slowly glide around the skating rink, feeling your legs space out naturally to create the best gliding and position one leg in front of the other. "See, you know what you're doing!"

Your childlike smile shoots Kirishima straight in the heart as you make the first steps to skating like a pro. He knew you were a fast learner and always admired that. Your persistence to learn something new was fascinating to him. You would start off anxiously and felt as if you didn't know what you were doing. But once you had the chance to shine, you left no skill invalidated.

"Hey Kiri, you think we can go a little faster? I wanna get some more momentum and see if we can do a trick!"

"W-what, you sure you want to try that on your first time at a skating rink? Certain moves require being a professional figure skater… Which we aren’t."

"You have a point, but we should still try anyway," You smile with reassurance, "We didn't graduate from U.A. not to be durable in various conditions!"

You raise your other arm showing off the muscle you gained from being a student at the number one school. Kirishima looked a little bewildered, thinking that your ideology doesn't equate to ice skating whatsoever, but he agreed that you weren't wrong. U.A. definitely had their trials, and you were put through many of them as a first-year.

"I mean, just look at that couple; they're so graceful, and I think we can do that!"

You pointed to a couple of what looked like professional ice skaters making a move you had never seen before. Your eyes sparkled as their chemistry was unmatched by everyone else in the rink. They spun so gently and romantically that you felt like you had to try to do something just as beautiful as that. Kirishima took a couple of Ice skating lessons on the side only to gain more flexibility and agility to become a better defense hero during his agency apprenticeship. It worked well, and he learned many things that he didn't expect to use in his daily life.

Looking at the skilled ice skaters, he felt like that could be him and you, and so he looked back into your eyes, reciprocating your glittery gaze. With a pure and toothy grin, he said, "Okay, let's give it a try."

Excited by his answer, you almost jumped for joy, forgetting where you were, and almost slipped and tumbled into the Red-haired hero. You laughed off the blunder, and you both kept trying to reach the speed it would take to get into any ice move. Having the fundamentals of chemistry be explained had made you even more pumped. Learning the basics of a spin and how to get the most out of sticking your leg out and balance. Kirishima praised you every time you got further into the rotation. You felt good knowing that you were trying and learning something different, respecting the art of figure skating.

Surprised that you were doing so well, you lost focus for a second and accidentally bump into Kirishima, resulting in him falling to the ice-cold floor. Horrified that he's injured, you kneel close to him to inspect, but instead, he laughs, looking at your worried face.

"I'm okay, Princess; this isn't my first time falling on the ice."

"Are you sure? I mean, it looked like you fell kinda har-"

To avoid a freakout and reassure you, he stole a kiss from your lips, lasting more than three seconds as you didn't want it to stop, but he pulls away with a light chuckle, "This floor is cold as hell, though."

"I-I'm sorry," You slightly pout, not knowing what else to say.

"But hey, I'm here with the hottest girl, so this makes up for everything."

Your goofiest smile was starting to form as you reached out to help him up. "Okay, Mr. Flirt, you got me there."

His laugh was highly pleasing to your ears, and you laughed with him. As he stood up, he patted himself down and checked his skates, making sure everything felt the way it did before the fall. After the check, he wanted to leave the rink, it made you anxious, thinking that something else was wrong with him, but he laughed again, "I know you wanted to try a pro move today, but I actually have something else planned."

"Something else?" You tilted your head to the side, confused as to what he could be mentioning.

"Yeah, but it's a surprise, so I'm not gonna say anything until we get there." His shark-like grin came back, making you grin in return.

"Okay, but can I have a hint?" You imitated puppy dog eyes but couldn't keep your face straight, laughing at your own face.

"Hmmm, I'll think about it" He smiled. "Maybe when we're closer, but let's return these skates and go."

And with that, you returned the skates getting your cute and comfortable platform sneakers back. You had even forgotten what shoes you wore since you were in the rink skating for a long time, Feeling like you had sweat enough from the body-induced activity. You were excited to figure out where you might be going. You tried your best to make guesses as you rode the bus to get there and passed by each stop. Still not able to put the finger on where you might be going.

"Here's your hint, Princess," You turn from looking out the window to look back at him. "It's as sweet as you."

Even with such a cute but corny remark, you still didn't have a clue. But you were getting off at the next stop. No dots connected as Kirishima grabbed your hand, guiding you off the bus with him. He smiled the whole way, eager to see your expression on the date's secondary location. The walk may have lasted for five minutes until he stopped, turning to look at you, "We're here."

The building looked a little shabby but still had a colorful banner saying 'Welcome.' A little creeped out, you wondered what was being welcomed. Ghosts maybe? Not humans, maybe clowns, though. You were reluctant to step further, but you looked into Kirishima's eyes, and his expression looked pure and unaltered by the outer appearance of the building. You feigned a light smile, unsure what to expect inside the establishment but prepared for what's to come.

Intertwining your hands, your date tightened the grip, caressing your hand. As if doing his best to comfort you as you walked closer to the entrance, his toothy grin never leaving. As he opened the door for you, you entered the building, the floor looking just as bland as the outside, but you had to be admitted in to get to the specific base, and as you got to your final destination, Kirishima let you walk in first to scope out the scene.

In an instant, you're blinded by beautifully bright colors, pleasingly happy music that didn't sound creepy and candy-like decor from wall-to-wall. Shocked by what you're seeing, candy hung from the ceiling while numerous candy stations were on the floor. Your eyes became huge, looking at what could only be considered a candy paradise. Kirishima stood next to you, nodding at the beauty of the atmosphere filled with gleefulness and sweets all over.

"Well, Princess, welcome to Sugar Sanctuary."

He presented the place so nonchalantly, and yet his energy about the place said otherwise. Your jaw had dropped, not even knowing a place like this had existed. Your eyes couldn't even focus on what was in front of you; you just wanted to explore the floor and eat as much candy as possible.

"We burned so many calories skating, I think we should reward ourselves. I remembered out of the blue that you used to have a sweet tooth, and I wanted to see if that still holds true now."

You turned to hug him tightly, almost jumping into his arms. His eyes widened as you held him, " Of course that's still true! Let's leave here with a dump truck worth of sweets!"

His chuckle reverberated through his body and onto yours as you held him; without protest, he nodded. "Let's do it!"

And with that, you venture into the venue, reading fun facts about the candy, playing the video games that gave out real prizes. Kirishima had a point to prove, his goal was to win you whatever you wanted, and he did it so well, surprising you at his gamer abilities. And his claw skills were something to see too! You never thought you would have this much fun on a date, and yet, here you were having the time of your life with the man who was your highschool sweetheart.

Although your relationships would continue to confuse your friends, you always looked at the bigger picture to smile and have fun. Avoiding all the complicated politics of your connection, taken at your own pace, and not listen to others' opinions as you enjoyed Kirishima's company and vice versa.

You spent every moment tasting different sweets and fresh pastries from the floor that you almost forgot to take photos of the unique location. You spotted a photo booth, and with no hesitation, You lightly tugged your redheaded date to follow along. The booth itself was spacious when inside and looked like it had enough room to fit half a dozen people. But because there was so much space, you tried to create a wonderland of candy surrounding you, bringing you closer to your date.

Kirishima happily obliged to set up what seemed to take a while but eventually, ready to pose for the flix. Unironically, you two looked gorgeous, making quirky faces as the camera flashed, focusing in on the memory. However, the moment was just perfect enough to steal a kiss from him and to thank him for all that he’s done to help you celebrate a holiday that you usually overlook. After caressing your lips onto his, you say, “You know what, Kiri, you truly delivered. And I want you to know that I appreciate you.”

He goes in for another kiss, just to rest his forehead on top of yours, “No, thank you, I’m happy to rescue my Princess from a boring any time of the year.”

With a couple more photos taken in the booth, you leave heading to their lounge area to share a complimentary cake with a candle to grant a special wish together, hoping to have endless moments and to keep smiling together.

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Luke Patterson x Willie (Julie and the Phantoms)

Requested by @phoenixfidelity

Luke can't help but be distracted every so often. He can tell that it's starting to get on the rest of the bands nerves every time he misses a chord or he accidentally glances away from the lyrics so he misses a word and then the whole thing is forced to an abrupt halt. He's really trying to stay focused.

Usually it's a piece of cake! He loves the band and he loves playing, because he gets so lost in the music that he forgets the rest of the world exists half the time.

He catches sight of Willie out of the corner of his eye again as they're building up to the chorus of the new song they've been working on. Luke resists the urge to look away from the notebook in front of him.

His fingers keep moving determinedly... while his eyes dart off to the side. It's just a split second, then they're right back on the page, and he hasn't missed anything!

But his mind is quickly taken over by the brief glimpse of Willie that he got. He's just sitting cross-legged on the studio floor, hair tied up in a messy bun, nodding along to their music while he paints. While wearing one of Luke's hoodies. He found it lying on the back of the couch when they came in and he said he was cold, and so he asked if he could borrow it, and Luke wasn't going to say no, was he? That would be rude!

Besides, the orange actually really suits him. It matches the streaks of yellow paint on his cheeks--

Luke quickly glances back over. Sure enough, there is actually paint smeared across Willie's face. And a paintbrush in his mouth while he carefully paints with a different one. He's so focused, his eyebrows scrunched, his foot tapping to the beat on his knee--

Luke catches the mess up in his chords but not before he can stop it. He abruptly stops playing, the rest of the band once again halting along with him.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to--" He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly down at his guitar. "Let's just go again, yeah? I'll get it this time, I promise."

"Yeah, I don't think you will," Julie says, and Luke's surprised to find her smiling rather than being mad about it. She and the rest of the band share a look.

"Probably better if we take a break for now," Reggie agrees, clearly trying to suppress a smile of his own and failing miserably as he lifts his bass strap over his head.

"I'm... getting kinda hungry anyway," Alex lies, nodding way too eagerly.

Willie looks up for the first time since their last brief pause. "Are you guys done?"

Another look is shared. Luke shakes his head vigorously, staring at them all in disbelief.

"No! No, we're not! Come on, we still have to practice this song or else we're not gonna have it ready for tomorrow!"

"You'll be fine!" Flynn assures him, hooking an arm around Julie's shoulders. "You guys sounded great! Well... most of the time."

"Yeah, you were really good," Willie agrees, beaming at them with such sincerity that Luke's heart melts under the rays of sunshine he radiates when he turns it on him.

He barely notices Reggie muttering, "And that's our cue..." and the four of them scattering around the studio, and practically leaving the two of them alone.

Luke doesn't know why they're acting like this. So, yeah, he keeps getting distracted from the music. But he's trying to stay focused! It's not exactly going to help if the rest of them just decide to give up!

He sighs and decides he may as well put his own guitar aside for the moment.

"You okay?" Willie asks with a slight laugh, but his eyes are concerned when Luke glances up at him.

His stomach flips over like a pancake. It's weird but it's been doing that a lot lately and he can't seem to figure out why. Maybe he's coming down with something? That would be super inconvenient timing considering they have a gig tomorrow!

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Luke says, but even he feels like he's somehow lying even as he tries for a grin.

Willie isn't buying it either. He takes a moment to think, his eyebrows only creasing the tiniest bit this time as his thumb rubs a circle into the crease of his elbow. Luke finds the movement strangely calming to watch.

Then it stops, and Willie lights up. "Well, since you guys are... taking a break for the time being, do you wanna help me with this?"

Luke finally tries to take a proper look at what he has actually been doing this entire time as Willie moves over to sit beside him on the couch.

There's a poster -- multiple, actually, as well as what Luke swears is a pile of what were once his guitar picks. He doesn't really play his acoustic too much anymore because it never sounds right with any of their songs, and his fingers just got used to the feel of the strings on his electric, so there wasn't ever really a use for them anymore.

Willie notices him picking up one of the plectrums and turns sheepish. "I found them lying about in here and thought they could use a little... sprucing up." He shrugs. "I didn't think anyone would really mind."

Luke shakes his head and grins as he picks up another in amazement. Each one is painted, and not just a solid colour, but a whole piece of art is painted onto each one. Scenes of bridges with the sunset behind them, fields full of vibrant plants, a starry night sky, a gh--

Luke raises his eyebrows at him. "Is this meant to be me?"

Willie peers at the one he's holding up which features a ghost silhouette wearing an orange beanie with a guitar strapped around its translucent little body.

"Yep," Willie confirms, then breaks out into another sheepish laugh. "I got a little bored of the fancy designs, and I thought that it would be funny, seeing as how you're, you know, Julie and the Phantoms."

"So," Luke glances at the pile of plectrums, "did you do one for all of us?"

"I haven't gotten around to it yet. I wanted to start with you 'cause I figured you'd make the cutest ghost. With the beanie and all."

Luke's stomach does the thing again. And he swears his face is burning up. He better not be getting a fever, because the thought of getting sick right before a gig is giving him a little too much deja vu.

"Does that mean you don't think I'm a cute ghost when I'm not wearing the beanie?" Luke teases, mock serious.

Willie laughs, caught in surprise by the question. But he shakes his head, gazing at Luke with creases around his eyes and a soft smile.

"No way. It's, like, totally impossible for you to not be cute."

Luke laughs as well now and gives him a gentle push, his hand lingering on Willie's arm. "Shut up."

"I got you smiling, at least," Willie points out.

"Yeah, well." Luke doesn't really have anything else to say because he's right.

He looks at him for a second as Willie shifts his attention back down to the posters and plectrums. Luke doesn't mean to stare, but there's something about watching his fingers move that feels... comforting, even when they're just moving a stray bit of hair behind his ear.

"Have you ever played guitar?" Luke blurts out without thinking.

Willie looks back up in surprise but shakes his head. "No. I like listening to music and sometimes performing with Caleb was fun but that was only ever singing. I've never really gotten the hang of an instrument. Takes too long to figure it all out."

"What if I helped?" Luke asks, not fully sure why he's offering. "I'm not saying perform with us. I'm just saying it could be a fun hobby, if you had someone helping you figure it all out."

Willie considers it then shrugs, beaming at him again. Luke's beginning to think he needs sunglasses just to be around him because he finds himself grinning back before Willie's even answered.

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it! But I will warn you, I'm not the most patient person."

"Good thing I am then," Luke says.

"No he's not!" Reggie shouts over to them from the other couch in the corner.

Luke glares at him but Reggie just raises his hands with a confused expression as if to say, what did I do?!

Rolling his eyes as Willie laughs, Luke says, "Don't listen to him. We can practice later and use my old acoustic, that way it'll be a bit easier and you can use one of your awesome designer picks."

He gestures to the pile and Willie scans over them, looking for one to use. Then he picks up the one with the ghost version of Luke on it.

"A great choice, if I do say so myself," Luke says, grinning. "Now, what are we painting?"

Willie hands him a paintbrush and one of the posters. He explains the design and they both start working on them. At some point in between Luke finishing one and Willie just adding a few last touches to his own, Luke tries experimenting on one of the blank picks himself.

When he shows it to Willie, his eyebrows raise and he almost doesn't seem to know what to say for a second. Then his face splits into a smile of pure joy and Luke doesn't think he's ever felt so pleased with himself as he does watching Willie gush over the little ghost hovering over a skateboard like it's the best thing he's seen.

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   25

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Papyrus yells at Sans to get his shit together, but he's a mess... AKA Sans gets drunk... and remembers some things from the past... that he'd really rather not..

A/N: There is some... possibly triggering events... experiments and tiny skele abuse... little Papyrus is too cute and sweet... Also mentioned possible death. It, as usual, is separated with the ~~~ and should be (at least mostly) safe again at the next set, safe summary in the end..

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Blackout.

Sans rolled over in his bed, feeling like the scars on his chest were going to break through and destroy his soul. 

The sun blared outside, shining into his sockets. 

"fuck off," he growled, rolling back over. 

Papyrus pounded on the door, making the sounds reverberate through his skull. He couldn't tell if it was louder than normal, or it just sounded like it to his throbbing skull. 

"GET YOUR STUPID, LAZY ASS UP, SANS!! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!! I KNOW YOU WENT OUT DRINKING AGAIN LAST NIGHT, LIKE THE FUCKING MORON THAT YOU ARE!! YOU'D BETTER BE DOWNSTAIRS IN FIVE MINUTES, OR I'M COMING BACK UP HERE FOR YOU!! YOUR STUPIDITY IS NO EXCUSE TO BE A LAZY DRUNK MORON!!"

 . 

The day was hell- actually, life was hell at the moment… 

His brother yelled at him about how stupid he'd been every chance he got- like he didn't already know that he'd royally fucked up. 

Every place he went reminded him of something he'd shown, or wanted to show (Y/n), her excitement at all the different things she'd never seen before had warmed his soul every time. 

Each time someone asked where his pet was made his soul thrum and ache to be close to her. ...and punch the person in the face… She was so much more than the pet they'd had to pretend she was. 

Every time he got Grillby's, he remembered her face of delight as she ate it for the first time. 

Every bite of his brother's food reminded him that she'd been there and helped him get better at cooking. 

Every time he rolled over in bed and smelled her scent caught on the pillow, or the sheets… 

And then there was the time he'd gotten back from drinking, and had been stumbling around drunk in his room, kicking random stuff on the floor, only to discover a pair of her underwear that he'd probably tossed in the corner in his haste to get to her. 

That had made him collapse in a heap of self hatred and regret. 

.

Sans sat at the table, stabbing his fork at his dinner aimlessly. 

“I MADE YOU A WONDERFUL, DELICIOUS, HOME COOKED MEAL! DON’T FIDGET WITH IT AND ACT LIKE IT’S THE TRASH YOU FILL YOURSELF WITH AT THAT GREASE TRAP,” Papyrus snapped at him. 

“sorry, boss…” 

Papyrus clenched his jaw, staring at his own fork pushing around a bite longer than necessary. 

“I WARNED YOU. I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCK IT UP. BUT YOU HAD TO GO AND DO THE STUPIDEST THING POSSIBLE TO FUCK IT UP.” 

Sans didn’t say anything. 

“YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF.” 

“i fuckin’ know, boss!” Sans yelled, scooting his chair back from the table. “i know i’m a fuck up! it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that i always manage ta fuck everythin’ up!” 

Papyrus sniffed haughtily. “I’M GLAD THAT YOU KNOW. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?” 

“i can’t do anythin’ about it! i fucked up, an’ she hates me! i took ‘er back ta th' edge a th' boundary, an’ there’s no way i can ever find ‘er, now!” Sans glared at his plate of food. 'sides, she wouldn't care- not that i'm sorry for being an asshole, not that i've been tryin' ta be a better monster, an' made great progress, too! maybe only a lil before i met 'er, but her bein' here made it so much easier to be better… 

Papyrus scowled at his brother. “THERE’S ALWAYS A WAY-” 

Sans cut him off by standing up, his chair making a loud noise as it almost fell over, and started towards the door as he muttered, “i’m goin’ ta grillby’s…” 

After grabbing his coat and slamming the door after him, Sans shortcutted to the bar, intent on getting wasted. 

.

A few drinks in with a good buzz, Sans started looking around. 

He wasn’t quite drunk enough to not remember, but it was at least a bit hazy. 

“Heya, Sansy!” 

He looked over to the bar stool next to him, seeing the cream colored bunny next to him, ordering a drink. He followed her to her regular booth, and they began matching shots, seeing who could get the drunkest first. 

. 

Sans opened his eye sockets, his fuzzy eyelights looking around the bar, seeing some drunk monsters starting to be a bit more friendly with each other. 

His skull fell to the side as he shifted, realizing that he’d missed a bit of what had happened. He straightened up in the booth seat and looked down at his drink again. 

Maybe he should try to find someone… 

Even if it was a one night stand, it would be someone to try to get rid of his memory of- no… thinking her name would only start the hurt again… make his soul burn with the knowledge that he was to blame for fucking his life up beyond repair. 

But, finding someone might be a good idea; he needed to at least stop jerking off excessively to her panties, or reading those stupid, mushy, trash books he hid on his shelf while imagining that she was the leading lady- and he was lucky enough to be the bastard who’d seen the error in his ways and was given a second chance… 

… 

Sans tossed back his drink and took the half empty glass from the passed out bunny across from him, downing it as well. 

He was finally kicked out of the bar, Grillby chasing everyone out as he closed. 

Sans took a shortcut home, but ended up in the field near the echo flowers he had planted to remind him of Waterfall, where he used to look at the Underground “skys” and pretend the crystals were stars. 

He yelled loudly for a minute, then tried again, this time making it within a short distance of the house. 

He swayed dangerously, but he made it in through the door, getting to the foot of the stairs and seeing the door to the hidden room open. He went to it, hand stopping short only due to him passing out across the floor with a thud. 

His vision had gone dark. 

Darker... 

…yet darker… 

…and darker, still… 

… 

… 

… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sans felt his soul floating above his body, unable to move as Gaster held him there with his weird powers. 

“Just hold still, you little shit…” 

Sans could handle it… as long as he left Papyrus alone, he could handle it… 

“P-PAPA…” 

“What is it? What are you doing in my lab? Why are you here?” Gaster demanded roughly in irritation. 

Sans fought as hard as he could to shift his eyelights to see his little brother. He needed to stay away! Sans wished that he could talk, yell at Paps to run, to go hide, to never come there, ever again- but he could hardly shift his eyelights. 

“WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO SANS?” 

run, bro, run! Sans begged mentally. 

“Well, you see, you weak little fool, monsters are stuck underground. We’re not here because we want to be. Your useless brother here, is going to help us escape,” Gaster told him. 

“THAT’S AMAZING, SANS!” Papyrus shouted in proud joy. 

Sans tried to will his brother to leave, to save himself from the sadistic monster towering over him. 

Papyrus’s jaw hit the hard floor as Gaster smacked the back of his skull so hard he fell forward. 

“Don’t be stupid, you worthless little runt,” Gaster snapped as he tore the ragged stuffed animal from his grasp. “He’s only a part of the experiment, he’s not doing anything worthwhile.” He held up the prized toy and ripped it’s limb off. “Just like this garbage is only making you weaker.” 

“NOOO!” Papyrus cried, a heart wrenching sob that made Sans’ soul hurt. 

Gaster glared at the small skeleton on the floor. “You have no need for this trash,” he sneered. “It’s as useless as you are.” He tore at the thing until it was completely in pieces and destroyed. 

Sans wanted to punch Gaster in his stupid cracked face. 

Gaster plucked Papyrus from the floor and turned to hold him where Sans could see. “Look at how weak you’ve made him,” he gloated. “If you didn’t coddle him and try to protect him from the real world, he’d be stronger.” 

Sans could feel his magic gathering in his bones, pushing and fighting against Gaster’s hold on him. 

Gaster looked Papyrus in the socket. “You should thank your brother for this- for making you as weak as you are.” 

A shot of fear showed on Papyrus’ face before the first hit came. 

Red, hot, magical tears built in Sans’ sockets as he fought to get free, to help his brother, but he was only able to sort of flop around on the table. 

Papyrus’ cries and tears were background noise for Gaster’s cries and accusations, telling Sans that he could thank himself for his brother not being able to defend himself, telling Papyrus to thank Sans for making him so weak. His gleeful cackling mixed with the noise of the attack. 

One of the machines in the room kicked into another level, sounding like it was reversing the flow it had been using. 

“sssstttppppp…” 

“Haven’t I taught you boys anything? Emotions are weakness.” 

“sssttoppp…” 

“Weakness is unacceptable- weakness will get you dusted.” 

“sstoopp…” 

“I thought I had taught you both better- but maybe you’re just slow learners!” The thought was accompanied with a manic and near demonic grin. “Maybe you just don’t learn- maybe you need to be taught over and over and over-” 

“stop,” Sans choked out. 

Gaster was too focused on what he was doing to notice at first, but when it seemed like a circuit or fuse had blown, he paused his movements. 

Sans started shaking, his body twitching every which way as he fought, fought to be able to save Papyrus. 

He felt a power just beyond his phalanges, he could almost reach it- 

The tears in his sockets grew, starting to stream down his skull, as he stretched himself to touch it- 

The power in the lab started to flicker, and Sans felt like his soul was being ripped into tiny pieces with a cheese grater, digging into it and shredding the super sensitive entirety of his being. 

“What are you doing, you stupid fucking brat,” Gaster demanded, glaring watchfully at him, ignoring his screams of pain.

Sans couldn’t hear him, though- he couldn’t even hear the screams leaving his own mouth, he was only consumed with protecting his brother, stopping Gaster from hurting him. 

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by the power cutting off and slowly starting back up. 

Sans felt weightless, like he had no restraints. 

He threw himself from the bed, but felt that he didn’t even touch the floor. He was held by a gathering of power- the same power that he’d tapped into. 

The power that was… 

Gaster sneered as Sans stood before him, attempting to adjust his magical hold, but it didn’t affect him. 

Sans clenched his fists and gathered the power there, ready to stop the attack on his brother, a shimmer moving around his fists. 

Gaster cackled at him and tossed Papyrus to the floor. “So, you’ve finally done what you were meant to do this whole time.” The tall monster reached for Sans, but his magic didn’t affect him. He made a displeased face at Sans before flourishing his hands, the gems in the centers of his cutout palms gleaming as he grabbed something in the air and pulled, lines attaching the two shimmering to visible for a moment. 

Gaster grinned dangerously in accomplishment and jerked the lines, making Sans stumble forward. 

“And to think; all it took to motivate you was a little smacking around of your brother… Maybe I’ll make you…” Gaster manipulated his hands in strange ways, and Sans could feel himself being tugged around by his own magic. “Yes, I could make you the one that hurt him instead… but, I think that I’ve taught him enough about the dangers of being weak… now I think I’ll teach you the dangers of caring for others-” Gaster twisted his hand and made Sans pick Papyrus up, holding him even with his eyelights. “How it can only hurt both parties in the end.” 

“i don’t wanna, pap, i swear,” Sans begged him to understand as he felt his hand being drawn back. “i swear it’s not me, paps- ya know i’d never do anythin’ like this ta ya…” 

“But it is you, Sans, look at your hand, it’s the one that’s about to hurt the one you love,” Gaster sneered from behind them. 

“‘s not- ‘s not, paps- y’re my lil bro, i love ya-” 

He was going to kill him- 

Sans was going to kill Gaster for making him do this. 

“The best part, is that the more monsters I link together, the more power I’ll have… I’ll be able to break down the barrier all on my own- as soon as I link enough souls together,” Gaster crowed in victory. 

Sans looked down to his ribcage where his soul sat, seeing a string connecting it to Gaster’s soul, a strange bond forming between his soul and the holes in his palms, the gems floating in the middles, that he’d never seen before- in fact- he didn’t think he’d ever seen this glow before on Gaster. 

Sans focused hard, letting go of Papyrus and took a hold of the line and tugged, pulling Gaster instead, turning the larger monster to him and making him stumble to be the right height, even for him to pull all the energy he could into his hands, summoning a large bone and swinging hard, hitting Gaster in the skull, seeing the flash of fear and realization just before it connected. 

Gaster fell to the ground, limp, and Sans dropped the bone, letting it disappear as he stared in shock. 

Did… Did he just kill Gaster? 

He knew he thought about it a lot… 

He knew that he wanted to do it to stop him from hurting his brother- wanted to punish him for hurting his brother… 

But… why wasn’t he turning to dust…? Why was there… blackness leaking from him?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sans turned to Papyrus when he felt a bit more certain that Gaster wasn't going to get up and attack again. 

He felt his soul twist in knots at the expression of pain and fear on his small brother's face, sure that it was partially due to the crack from his maxilla, between two sharp teeth, up and heading to his cheek bone. But the other part would have to come from… 

"b-bro-" Sans' voice caught, his hand freezing in mid motion, his phalanges starting to curl closed into a fist. “i… i’m sorry, bro,” he murmured. 

Papyrus threw himself into Sans’ arms, small, almost silent sobs leaving his small frame. 

Sans felt his soul twist again. 

“i- it’s a’right, paps- i- h-he… he’ll never hurt ya again. never…” He murmured against his brother’s skull. “i promise…”

Papyrus held tighter to him, trying to hide his silent sobs better. 

“i- imma help ya become th’ toughest monster out there. ain’t nobody gonna mess wit ya…” Sans stroked over his brother’s skull, not quite sure what else to do to comfort him. “ya- ya are th’ great an’ terrible papyrus, after all…”

Papyrus mustered up the strength to give a soft, “Nyeh Heh Heh…” 

Sans held his small form closer to his chest, curling around him. "it's ok, paps… everythin' is gonna be ok…" 

He just had to get rid of Gaster's body… 

After a moment, an idea came to him, and, thinking it through while he held and comforted Papyrus, it seemed to hold up… 

He'd hated all these years of going to the lab with Gaster, but… looks like they were finally going to be good for something. 

He didn't think anyone else knew about the void between realms that Gaster had accidentally tapped into while trying to find a way out of the Underground. 

"S-Sans…" For once, the small skeleton's voice matched his size. 

"yeah, paps?" Sans asked quietly. 

"Are… Are You Going To Be My Dad, Now…?" 

Sans felt like he was the one who'd been smacked in the back of the skull with a bone attack. 

"i- n-no, paps- i'm still yer brother, i- i ain't fit ta- i ain't old 'nough ta be a dad-” he corrected, trying to put it in a way that Papyrus would understand, “but… imma take care a ya like one, 'k? ya don't have ta be scared, imma take care a ya… i'll keep ya safe…" 

Papyrus tightened his hold on Sans. "I'm- I'm Going To Keep You Safe, Too," he murmured. 

"that's 'cause y're gonna be th' biggest, strongest monster out there. no one'll be able ta beat ya, 'cause y're th' best…" 

Sans held his brother tight, feeling the newly awakened power burning through his bones as the two held each other, swearing that they'd keep each other safe and alive, no matter what it took. 

A/N: Safe summary: Gaster is experimenting in connecting souls together, using his powers to hold Sans down, when little Papyrus comes down with his precious stuffed animal to see what they're doing. Gaster hits Papyrus as punishment for being "weak". Sans completes the connection of his soul to Gaster's to break his paralyzing hold on him and protect Papyrus. At first it works, but then Gaster uses two crystals type things (that Sans has never ben able to see before and isn't sure what they are) in the holes of his hands to focus his power and control Sans, making him hit Papyrus, as punishment for caring for and loving him. Sans tells him the whole time that it's not him. Sans regains control and stops himself, using gravity magic to bring him down to level, and then manifests a bone attack and hits him, very hard, in the head. Sans wonders if he's killed Gaster, and holds Papyrus close while trying o figure out how to hide Gaster's body. Sweet moments ensue in the mostly safe part.

[jungshookz]

ok but like what if jungkook and y/n are at a hockey match and a kiss cam lands on them but they're both strangers

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: biRTHDAY-themed fluff that is so utterly sweet you will undoubtedly get like ten cavities after reading this; tae demolished a whole serving of cheesy fries and he’s not feeling so good mr stark; namjoon & y/n bond over the fact that they just don’t get hockey   

➺ wordcount: 4.6k

➺ note: happy birthday to the man that not only owns my heart but also my whOLE ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my goD i love him!!!!!!!!!!!! u ruin my life but also make it ten times better!!!!!!!!

(gif isn’t mine!)

                                      ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“remind me again why jimin couldn’t come with you instead?” you scowl when someone bumps into you from behind and you instinctively reach down to pull your purse to your front

…what??

you haven’t cashed in your latest paycheque and you don’t want anyone steaLing your hard-earned money

you stumble into tae’s back when someone knocks into you again

you would think that people would have the common decency to be a little more polite but no

this is so not your scene

plus you saw an army of ants feasting on the carcass of a cockroach in the washroom and you immediately hightailed it ouT of there

your bladder is just going to have to wait til you return to safety of your own toilet

tae told you he’d be happy to chug down a gallon of soda and give you the cup to pee in and you nearly considered it because that would probably be cleaner than the washrooms here

“because- yeah, two forks, please - because he had some dumb work thing that he couldn’t skip out on and i wasn’t going to waste my front row tickets!” tae scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world

well

that’s fair, you suppose

“you really couldn’t invite anybody else? i was your next choice?” you cling to the back of tae’s jersey because everyone keeps shoving into you and you feel like you’re going to be carriEd away by a hoard of sweaty hockey fans if you don’t hold on to something

you don’t mean to sound ungrateful because it is really nice of taehyung to have invited you to this apparently suPer big-deal of a hockey game (you’re pretty sure the fans here would rip each other apart to get their hands on a front row ticket) but like ?///???

you aren’t exactly a super enthusiastic sports person

sure, you’ll watch a couple matches if it’s on the tv while you’re cleaning up your apartment or if you just need some noise in the apartment but it’s not something that you actively seek out to watch

if anything you’re 100% more likely to watch spongebob squarepants over a sports game

you just don’t see the appeal of watching grown men (anD women! ur a feminist! girls are great!) gliding around on ice clickity-clacking a tiny puck here and there with wooden sticks while very aggressively shOving into each other at the same time  

also the names of the hockey teams are always so dumb

you could probably come up with a better hockey team name because all you have to do is pick an adjective and then pick an animal

the screaming giraffes

the wailing whales

the condescending toads

you would pay good money to watch a match between the screaming giraffes and the wailing whales

you’re not sure if the condescending toads would make a good name now that you think about it  

“aw, c’mon! it’s not like you had any other plans, anyways.” tae raises a brow at you and you immediately scoff

he has a good point.,.,., but stiLL

“i totally had plans!”

“ordering a party sized serving of chicken alfredo and garlic bread and watching netflix doesn’t count as plans.”

…okay anoTHer good point

the seats that you guys got are actually pretty good

you’re located right in the middle so you get an equal view of the goal on the right and the goal on the left

it’s not like you’re going to be paying attention to the game but still

very nice!

“can you believe we only had to pay $5 for all of this?” tae laughs lightly in disbelief as he rubs his hands together and looks down at the foot-long hot dog sitting on his lap

“…it should be concerning that we got all of this for $5.” you mutter under your breath and stare down at the plastic-looking cheese smothered over the fries

you told tae not to go overboard with the food but of course he didn’t listen to you which is why you guys are sharing a foot-long chilli cheese dog anD an extra large order of chilli cheese fries and a slurpee served in a literal bucket

usually you’d be down to inhale all of this but uh

you don’t want to sound snooty or anything but you saw one of the employees accidentally drop an entire bag of cheese into the pot before quickly fishing it out with their bare hands and you’re pretty sure that’s a health code violation

you mentioned it to tae and he said it wasn’t a big deal and- well, he’s already starting to scarf down the hot dog

side note

these fries are actually really good

you stab a few more of them with your fork before shovIng the biteful into your mouth and gently dabbing some cheese sauce off your chin with your napkin

just because you’re starving doesn’t mean all your manners are going to fly out the damn window

you didn’t eat breakfast this morning so this is a great first meal

“vou know what fhe beft part iv of sitting in the front?” tae asks through a faT mouthful of hot dog and you immediately wince in respond

men are disgusting

“what?” you reach over to wipe tae’s mouth with a napkin because both his hands are occupied by the almost offensively large hotdog

he swallows his bite before licking some chilli from the corner of his mouth

again

men are disgusting

“sometimes the hockey players get sLammed right up against the protective shield right in front of us.” tae gestures to the clear plastic panels separating the crowd from the rink “and if you’re really lucky, you get to see someone lose a tooth or something!”

you immediately make a face

“wha- how is that-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” you glance over for a second when someone quite literally scReams out loud for their friend

and then you’re turning to face tae again

“as i was saying,” you pause for a brief second when tae reaches over to take the fries from you, “how the hell is that the best part about sitting in the fr-“

you jump in surprise when what feels like a whole handful of popcorn suddenly scatters down on your head and onto your lap

oh coMe ON

you just washed your hair this morning!!!!!

the crumbs are going to look like you have veRy bad dandruff

also this is heavily buTTERED popcorn which means that the grease stains on your jeans are probably going to be there for the rest of your life

and these jeans were expeNSIVE

>:-(

this hockey game is not a very fun experience so far

“oh shit, sorry!”

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” you mutter as you flick a kernel of popcorn off your shoulder

yep

there’s a speck of grease on your sweater

greAt

“just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“ you look up to-

o-oh

OH

oh god

oh god the popcorn guy is cute

and not just cute

he’s like.,,. he’s suPER CUTE

round brown eyes

obscenely perfectly tousled black hair

he definitely looks to be around your age which is a big fat bonus

although that colour-block hoodie of his is making him look a lot younger you still think it’s safe to say he’s probably around your age

“sorry, miss… the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!” the guy flashes you a boyish smile and you feel your mouth go dry

oh dear lord

have mercy

“hey- you want extra chilli on your half of the hot dog?” you’re rudely poPped out of your little bubble when taehyung suddenly elbows your side

“wh- what? what?” you tear your eyes away from the handsome stranger who’s making himself comfortable in the seat right next to you before clearing your throat and looking over at tae

“extra chilli!” tae chirps and raises your half of the hot dog up a little

he already finished his half which isn’t a huge surprise

to be honest he was going to just go ahead and finish the hot dog but he figured it’d be nice to at least offer you a bite

“-i even asked for an extra little container of chopped up onions because i know you like-“

“no!” you blurt out and whack the container of onions out of tae’s hand causing it to smAck against the plastic divider before clattering to the ground

the two of you blink down at it

tae purses his lips before subtly kicking as much of it as possible under his seat

“i, um, i’m actually not that hungry. you can finish the hot dog.” you clear your throat again before unscrewing the lid of your bottle of water and taking a tentative, ladylike sip

“…what are you talking about? you were going to town on those cheesy fries like five seconds ago- oW-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” jungkook perks up when he sees namjoon waving him over

aH

there he is!

he was starting to get worried that namjoon wandered off somewhere or somehow locked himself in the supply closet or something

namjoon put him in charge of snack duty and he went aLL out

popcorn? check!

roasted peanuts? double check!

blue-flavoured slurpee? triple check!

he actually ended up getting two drinks because namjoon likes to bite the straw and jungkook doesn’t want to share a drink with a straw-biter

“here, i’ll take the peanuts and my drink-“ namjoon plucks the paper bag and the plastic cup cradled in jungkook’s arms before he steps aside to let him squeeze into the aisle

namjoon actually won these hockey game tickets from a raffle at work and jungkook almost exploded with joy when he invited him to come and watch it with him

it was actually pretty perfect timing because the game just so happened to land on jungkook’s birthday

namjoon gave jungkook the best birthday present and he didn’t even have to spend a dime

:’)

“s’cuse me, sorry-“ jungkook weasels his way in between the aisles and carefully steps over people’s legs as he makes his way to his seat exciTEdly

he’s never been to a live sports game before!!!

and he’s definitely never been in the froNt row of anything before!!!!

two birds with one fAt stone!

also he-

“oh shit, sorry!” he gasps when he accidentally tips his carton of popcorn a little bit causing it to land all over the stranger seated next to his spot

shiT

there goes half his popcorn

he’s not going to go back up to the concessionary stand to get more popcorn because the game is about to start and the line is probably still half a mile long

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” jungkook winces to himself and feels his cheeks heat up a little as he watches you brush the popcorn to the ground

yikes

he’s about to sit down when suddenly you speak up again “just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“

jungkook feels his heart skip a beat when you look up at him

oh wowie you’re pretty  

…he just spilt his greasy popcorn all over a very pretty girl

double yikes

it’s fine

just play it cool

he can play it cool

“sorry…” jungkook raises his cup a little “the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!”

he immediately pales as soon as that tumbles out of his mouth

wha-

what the HELL was that?!?!?!

out of all the things he could’ve said

his three and a half brain cells came up with thAT

you can’t blame me if i get you wet???????

you probably think he’s some kind of weird peRVERT now

luckily your boyfriend starts talking to y-

huh

you have a boyfriend

of course you have a boyfriend

jungkook lets out a little huff before plopping down on the plastic seat

whatever >:-(

namjoon leans over and glances into the popcorn bag before frowning

damnit

he just wanted some popcorn

:-(

“holy shiT, did you see that backhand????” tae practically screeches as he reaches over and slaps your arm aggressively “y/n, did you see it????”

“i saw- i sAW it, i saw it!” you scowl and smack his hands away from you

“oh my god, that was legEndary-“

you can barely hear tae’s enthusiastic blabbering because all you can hear is the sound of skates shrEdding up the ice and the sound of the puck being whacked back and forth and also cheers and whOops from all of these diehard fans

you honestly have no idea what the hell is going on right now

all you know is that the two teams are tied right now and everYone’s getting frustrated

you’re not sure which team you should be rooting for so you’re just basing it off of which uniform you like better

in other words, you’re cheering on the pUrpLe team!

also no one’s been smacked up against the plastic divider yet which is a huge relief because you’re not sure if you want to see anyone lose any teeth today

“will you cut it out?? your future girlfriend probably isn’t going to appreciate it if you’re practically beating her up-“

jungkook perks up immediately when he hears that come out of your mouth

aH

so that guy isn’t your boyfriend!

nice!!!!!

that means he still has a chance even though he dumped like a pound of popcorn on you and almost drenched you in his blue-flavoured slurpee

also he didn’t mean to eavesdrop

it’s just hard noT to eavesdrop when you’re sitting right next to him

he’s been paying attention to the game because duH but also he keeps thinking about how cute u look when you have a mouthful of french fries

also

now he knows that your name is y/n which is actually pretty fitting

you look like a y/n

it’s cute!

on an unrelated note

u smell rly nice but he can’t quite put his finger on what that particular scent is

jungkook’s nose twitches

hm

“what do you mean the game isn’t over yet??” you groan and plop yourself back down in the seat “there was an intermission like half an hour ago!!!”

“there are two intermissions, you whiney baby!”  tae scowls

you need to chill

you’re acting like watching a hockey game is equivalent to getting your teeth pulled out

you’re being a bABy

if he can sit through hours and houRS of your reality tv shows you can sit through one hockey game

“so…” namjoon pauses for a second “the game… isn’t over?”

“nope! there’s one more round.” jungkook chirps and shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth

“oh.” namjoon slumps back in his seat a little

he thought the game was over

to be honest he was ready to leave before the first intermission but jungkook looked like he was having the time of his life so he decided to wait it out  

“so what are we supposed to do now?” namjoon furrows his brows “do they just expect us to wait and do nothing?”

“well, no, they’re doing that thing where-“ jungkook immediately chokes when he suddenly sees his face on the jumbotron

and unsurprisingly

your face is also on the jumbotron

“y/n-“

“hold on, i’m about to beat my high score-“ your tongue pokes out in concentration as you focus on your very intense session of tetris

“y/n-“ tae hisses and punches your arm

“ow!” you whine and rub your sore arm

tae’s been hitting you for the duration of the whole game and you’re pretty sure your arm is about to fall off

he needs to cut it out

he knoWs you bruise like a pEACH

“-what did i tell you about hitting me???” you put your phone down and turn to glare at tae

“you’re on the- look!!!!” tae points to the front and-  

you immediately pale when you realise that yes, that is most definitely your face on the jumbotron right now, and yes, you and jungkook, the very handsome stranger that you definitely already have a crush on, are currently trapped inside of a big pinK heart with the words ‘KISS CAM’ floating on top of the heart

oh god

you can’t kiss him

you still taste like cheesy fries

and your lips are chapped

and your tongue is stained blue from the slurpee

you can’T KISS HIM

and also he’s a literal stranger but most importantly you are not in the right state to be kisSEd right NOW

“oh, no-“ you shake your head quickly before making a slicing gesture over your neck “we’re not- we’re not together!”

jungkook glances at you for a brief second and he can sEe the panic in your eyes

okay

he was down to kiss you but obviously you don’t feel the same way which is totally understandable but stiLL

oh well

he might as well join in on the protesting

“right, yeah- we don’t know each other!” jungkook shakes his hand at the camera and you flash a sheepish smile at the camera before shrugging

the crowd immediately erupts into boos and you immediately scoff before turning to face the people behind you

“excuse-” you gawk when someone has the audacity to thrOW a handful of popcorn down at you guys “-excuse you!”

you turn back to face the camera and shake your head before holding your arms up and crossing one over the other

“sorry! we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!!”

you shoot a glare in tae’s direction when he joins in on the booing

sometimes you don’t know why you’re friends with him because he’s literally suCH a moRON

“seriously, we’re not- oh, okay-“ you let out a breath of relief when the camera moves away from the two of you

you immediately slump back in your seat

phEW

that was a close call

if ur going to kiss jungkook it’s going to be because he wantS to kiss you and noT because he’s being forCed to kiss you

“sorry about that…” he turns to look at you and you immediately perk up

“no, you have nothing to apologise for! don’t sweat it.” you laugh lightly and shake your head before digging through your purse for a stick of gum

your breath still tastes like cheesy fries and it’s not very pleasant

“i, uh, i’m jungkook, by the way.” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake

oh

he’s… introducing himself to you

…does that mean… he might be… interested in you…?

hM

much to think about

you take his hand gently before offering him a shy smile “i’m y/n.”

“and i’m taehyung!” tae leans over and shoots jungkook a boxy smile “i would shake your hand but my fingers are still sticky with cheese.”

your eyes flutter shut and you pinch the bridge of your nose

kim taehyung is the absolute bane of ur existence

“it’s nice to meet you guys. uh, this is-“ jungkook glances over his shoulder “this is namjoon!”

“hey, hi.” namjoon smiles politely and nods to the both of you in acknowledgement “are you guys big hockey fans?”

“i’m not, but tae is-“ you laugh lightly and namjoon’s eyes liGht up

“i’m not that big of a fan either! i honestly don’t really get it!“

“right??” you gasp in excitement because now you have someone you can actually talk to about this stuff “what’s the big deal with a group of grown men gliding around and-“

“i know!! also i always lose track of where the puck is-“

taehyung and jungkook lean back slightly to give each other the same looks of ‘do you hear what i’m hearing right now?’

“i don’t see what the point is of having two intermissions-“ you nearly jump ten feet into the air when the crowd suddenly buRsts into cheers and for a second you think it’s because the game is resuming

but nO

because take a WILD guess as to whose faces are up on the jumbotron aGAIN

“wha- are you people serious?!” you gawk as you stare at yourself at the screen

…is that really what you look like?

you look weirder when you’re up on the big screen for some reason

you don’t get a chance to dwell on the fact that people can probably see your pores from how HD the camera is because the next thing you know, the crowd is beginning to chant

“kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!”

jungkook lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head before reaching up to pluck at the silver hoop hanging from his ear (it’s a nervous hAbit and he is very vERY nervous right now) “sorry, we’re not going to!”

“kiSS! kiSS! kiSS! kiSS!”

“you heard the guy!” you gesture over to jungkook “we’re not doing it, you pERverts!”

it seems like the audience couldn’t give leSS of a shit because every time you and jungkook say that you two aren’T going to kiss they become more riled up

even taehyung and namjoon have joined in on the chanting

namjoon can’t help but snort when jungkook turns to look at him with briGht red cheeks

if ya can’t beat em join em!!!

“we’re going to be here all day! just move on!”

“KISS!”

“we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!”

“KISS!”

“we don’t even know each other!”

“KISS!”

“my lips are suPer chapped!”

“KISS!”

“take a hint!”

“oh for the love of god-“ jungkook’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when you’re suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him towards you and-

his heart stops in his chest when you press your lips against his and he immediately freezes

o god

you’re kissing him

you’re kiSsing HIM

you pull away far too soon for jungkook’s liking (it was obviously only meant to be a peck) and jungkook blinks owlishly

wha-

is that it?????

that’s all????

you are riPPING him off

“there, we kissed! are you freAKS happ-“ before you get a chance to get all smug with the camera jungkook’s yanking you back and smearing his lips over yours

the crowd now eRUPTS into cheers and screams and namjoon is literally screeching his head off next to jungkook

taehyung isn’t doing any better

he threw his half-eaten hot dog up into the aIR

and for a brief second jungkook thinks you’re going to freak out and pull away but he’s more than pleasantly surprised when you begin to kiss him back

also he figured out what u smell like and why he likes it so much

it’s because you smell like his favourite fabric softener

and if that’s not a sign that you’re basically perFect for him then he doesn’t know what is!!!!

jungkook reaches up to cup your cheek gently while your fingers curl around the nape of his neck

needless to say

you are vERy much making out with a stranger right now (your mom would probably flip if she found out) but you most definitely don’t give a hECK because jungkook’s lips are so soft and he tastes like buttery popcorn

the tiniest of whimpers slips past your lips when jungkook teases you with small brushes of his tongue against yours

he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded and your entire body feels like jello

he’s such a good kisser that you nearly forget the fact that the two of you are making out in front of like 20,000 people right now

a smirk twitches at the corner of jungkook’s mouth when he pulls away and you immediately respond with a whine

it started off with you getting him all flustered but obviously the tables have turned because you are just putty in his hands and he knows it

“jungkook…” you sigh breathlessly as he nudges his nose against yours

oH boy

your soul definitely left your body

you’re still floating on cloud nine

meanwhile the crowd is still compLETELY losing it because they were just expecting a little pek and not THIS

“yeah?” jungkook takes his bottom lip in between his teeth as he resists the urge to lean in and kiss you again

“i think this means you have to take me out on a date now.”

“…i think you might be right.”

best

birthday

ever

:-)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble masterlist // main masterlist

[taeminyourmind]

Snow in Love (F)

Summary - Taemin visits Caramella’s, a local cat cafe, every night for one reason, you. He wants nothing more than to be with you, but a simple kiss has him afraid of the one thing he yearns for. Will he be able to be brave and reach for what he wants or will he watch it slip through his fingers?

Genre - Fluff, Non-Idol!AU, Slow burn (kind of), Angst (if you really squint)

Pairing - Reader x Taemin

Word Count - 8.5k+

A/N - A simple read, made to make you feel fluffy (pun intended).

Night falls upon the quiet city. Aside from the streetlights, the clear sky makes the stars and moon look livelier than ever as they shine brightly. The year’s first snow is powdery and blankets every surface, turning everything white. Flurries float to the ground from the roofs of buildings when the wind blows, giving the illusion that snowfall has started again. The sidewalks are empty except for a young man who has his head done to protect his face from the bitter windchill. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders are hunched as the wind intensifies until he rounds a corner.

The quiet air is interrupted by the sound of children’s laughter. In the middle of the street are two kids dressed in the warmest clothing one can think of to wear in their weather. They make perfectly round balls by compacting the soft snow in their hands and throw it at one another below the streetlights. Their laughter makes the young man stop for a second and reminisce on his childhood; it was full of adventure and fear never crossed his mind, except the fear that his mother wouldn’t let him keep a grasshopper he had caught in the fields. Oh, to be that young again, he thinks.

On this street, all the shops are closed for the holidays, except for Caramella's, a cat cafe that sells tasty pastries, teas, and coffees - all made from locally grown produce. The cafe is a popular hangout place for anyone whose aesthetic includes earth tone decor, soft house lounge tunes, and being surrounded by cats that are available for adoption. To Taemin, this has been his favorite place to go for the past six months - so much so that every employee on the night shift knew his name. He indeed loves the cafe, but the thing that keeps him coming back is you.

Taemin reaches the front door of the cafe and quickly enters, wiping his feet off on the paw-shaped rug before taking his usual seat by the window. The air smells of freshly brewed coffee and warm biscoff cookies. He hangs his jacket on the back of the chair and looks around the space. Some people are sitting at tables with their eyes glued to their laptops and others sit on bean bags with cats curling up on their laps. Taemin chuckles to himself when he sees a teen sleep with a cat curled at their side.

Movement from behind the counter catches Taemin’s eyes and catches his attention. A breath gets stuck in his throat when he sees you, talking with a coworker and most likely cracking a joke judging by the smile on your face. When your eyes travel to his direction, he quickly looks out the window and focuses on the children still in the street.

“Will you have your usual?” You ask while pouring water into an empty cup and setting it in front of him. “Caramel macchiato with arlettes?”

Taemin’s words refuse to come out. He just nods his head and gives a small smile as he watches you walk off. So stupid, he thinks. He huffs while watching droplets on the side of his water glass race to the bottom. No words can explain how desperately he wants to talk to you, to have a conversation with you, to get to know you better as a person instead of a barista. But the way he freezes when he’s around you makes it impossible for any of those things to happen.

Taemin rests his head in his palms. Internally, he’s cringing at himself and wondering why his older brother, Taesun, inherited all of the charisma. Taesun is only two years older than Taemin, but it feels more than that by the level of his maturity and outlook on the world. Since his youth, Taemin can remember being jealous of his brother and trying hard to be like him.

The sound of a plate being placed on the table makes Taemin pop his head up. A plate of arlettes sits in the middle of the table with a coffee mug in front of him and the chair across from him. Before he can ask a question, you slide the chair back and sit across from him. Instantly his muscles tense and relax when you give him a soft smile. The low lighting and beams from the streetlights give you a warm appearance.

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you,” you say, your eyebrows slightly raising at the mug in front of you.

“No! Not at all!”

Taemin’s mouth closes immediately after releasing how enthusiastic and loud his answer was. But the warmth of your laugh melts any embarrassment that was soon to engulf him. Snow begins to fall again, grabbing both of your attention. Silence falls over the table while you sip the warm beverage from the mugs. Though he tries to keep his gaze on the snowflakes twirling in the wind, he can’t help but sneak glances at you. He takes a mental picture of your beauty; the way your eyes sparkle and follow the snowflakes while they dance across the window, the way you try to contain the growing smile on your face and the way pieces of your hair fall and frames your face.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh while relaxing back in your seat and facing Taemin again. “Snow is always beautiful.”

Taemin nods. His eyes look down at the mug that is protected in between his hands. The warmth provides him comfort as he looks up to meet your eyes again.

“You don’t talk much, do you? I’m always the one to start the conversations.” You say with a smile.

“I do,” he says quickly. “I just don’t know what to say.”

Taemin watches you nod your head. He feels like disappearing when your eyes narrow at him slightly, searching his face. Taking a sip, you lean forward and smile at him.

“Is there something on your mind?” Your eyes travel to his hands that are tightly gripping the mug. “You seem tenser tonight.”

Following your eyes, Taemin immediately loosens his grip and breathes out. He’s frustrated with himself for how he’s behaving. Sure he’s had crushes in the past and had a couple of girlfriends, but none of them made him feel the way he does around you. For the past six months, you have developed a friendship with one another, if you can call it that. You talk while at the cafe, but never outside of these walls. Your conversations and presence leave him wanting to get to know you more, but the only thing in his way is himself.

“My shift ends at eleven,” you mumble before taking a sip from your mug. “Would you mind walking me home?”

Without hesitation, Taemin nods his head. The smile that spreads across your face makes his heart race as a swarm of butterflies tickle his stomach. This is your chance. Don’t mess it up, he thinks while hiding his smile while sipping from his mug. His eyes avert from your face and focus on the clock behind you. Only thirty more minutes.

One by one, people begin to leave the cafe until Taemin sits alone. An orange cat presses itself against Taemin’s leg, its purs demanding his attention. Looking down, a smile appears on his face when the cat lifts its face to see Taemin. Reaching down, his fingers caress the cat between the ears and give it praises for being so kind.

“We call him Sherbet,” you say while setting a blanket on a chair. You place your coat over your body and prepare yourself to brave the weather. “He’s been here the longest. We haven’t found a family to welcome him in. They all want kittens. But until he finds a perfect home, I am fostering him.”

Taemin’s face softens and looks down at Sherbet, who is now leaning against his leg. He can’t help but smile at the cat’s affection.

“How’d he lose his eye?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug and squat down to gently stroke the cat’s back. “We found him abandoned in an alleyway. When we took him to the vet, they said there was nothing they could do to fix his eye. Sometimes I call him Cap’n Sherbet because he reminds me of a pirate.”

“Why don’t you adopt him?”

“I want someone to experience the joy of having a cat. If I adopted all the cats, nobody would experience their love.”

Taemin’s eyes leave Sherbet and focus on you. In the low light, he can still see the tears welling in your eyes. His chest feels heavy when he thinks about how much you have for the cats of the cafe - experiencing the joy of taking care of them and watching them get adopted and the sorrow of watching each one gets adopted except for Sherbet. You blink your tears back and smile warm-heartedly up at him.

“He likes you,” you sniff before rising to your feet. “He is never this affectionate with anyone, besides me.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, his voice trailing off. “Is he going home with you tonight?”

You nod and gingerly pick Sherbet up and wrap him in the blanket. Holding him tight to your chest, you watch Taemin rise and place on his winter protection. You suppress a smile when Taemin faces you again and reaches out to tell Sherbet how cute he looks wrapped in the blue blanket.

Snow crunches under your shoes as you trudge the snow-covered sidewalks. The crunches echo through the empty streets as you continue down the street. You hold Sherbet tight to your chest when a gust of wind appears out of nowhere and makes you stumble. You would be on the ground if Taemin hadn’t wrapped his arm around your waist and held you tight until you got your footing. You murmur a thank you as you huddle close to his body to keep warm from the frigid cold. Something is soothing about being held in his arms, you feel protected and safe.

“Where do you live?” Taemin asks through clenched teeth. If you listen close enough, you can hear them chattering.

“At Fox Run.”

“How convenient. I live at Land’s Crossing, just a block away.”

Taemin exchanges a shy smile with you before tightening his grip as you cross the street. The tip of his nose is cold to the point of being cold no longer. From the corner of his eye, he can see you place a kiss on Sherbet’s head while standing closer to his body. The aromatic scent of the cafe lingers on you and provides the only warmth in this weather. The weather gets harsher the closer you get to your apartment building. Taking one step at a time, Taemin assists you up the stairs with one hand gripping the rail.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say a little louder to be heard over the now whipping wind. Your eyes squint as snow is lifted from the ground and smacks against your face. “Why don’t you come in until the weather gets better?”

Before Taemin can protest, the wind knocks over a trashcan and sends it rolling down the street. Its loud thud makes the two of you jump, watching it disappear into the wall of flurries. He turns and watches you punch the building’s code into the keypad. When the door clicks, he opens it and follows you inside. It takes some effort, but he manages to close the door despite the roaring wind.

“I live on the first floor,” you say with a smile, your hair is disheveled and pieces of your hair are wet from the snowflakes that were stuck in your hair but are now melted. “Follow me.”

The sounds of your shoes squeaking against the wood laminate flooring make up for the silence that has fallen between you. The building’s thick walls minimize the roar of the ferocious wind outside into a light hum. Pushing his hood back, Taemin’s hand brushes down his hair that has been misplaced by his hood.

You reach a door at the end of the hallway and enter the key into the lock and turn until a click sounds. Pushing the door open, you hold it open for Taemin to walk in before closing it behind him. You gently place Sherbet on the floor and watch him run to his favorite place, a worn blue recliner with a crocheted blanket resting on its back. You take Taemin and your coats and hang them in a closet near the front door. You hadn’t noticed before, but Taemin wore dark wash jeans, a dark green crew neck sweater with a brown wristwatch.

“It’s funny how people’s orders can reflect who they are,” you say, trying to make conversation as you turn on the lamps in the living area.

“Oh yeah?” He sits on the couch and motions for Sherbet to sit beside him. “What does my order say about me?”

You pause for a moment, looking at nothing in particular on the wall as you ponder his question. You turn to face Taemin and study his face and body - his hair looks soft like he brushed out waves in his hair, his clothes are slightly big on him to give him comfort, though he sits tensely right now, you know he usually sits relaxed with his legs stretched in front of him. Your eyes travel to his face. 

Though they say the eyes are the doors to a person’s soul, you think that you can tell someone’s soul by more than that; the way they curl their lips into a smile, the flush tone of their cheeks, the furrowed eyebrows when confused - they all go together. With Taemin, his face reads nothing but gentleness. His eyes are wide with wonder and warmly squint when he smiles, his smile is warm and stretches as far as it can before the apples of his cheeks reach his eyes. His voice is soothing and engulfs you in a blanket of comfort. Since meeting him, you have felt nothing but his amiability.

“I feel like you’re simple and equable. Someone who isn’t showboaty and is even-tempered for the most part.”

Taemin can feel his cheeks grow warm at your observation and avert his eyes to Sherbet, who’s now curled in his lap. The aroma of Caramellas grows stronger when you take a seat beside him. You sit in silence while the wind howls outside, though the walls make it sound muffled and less intense. Out the window, a sheet of white whips past the window making it difficult to lookout.

Normally, Taemin would cringe at the silence between him and another person. But with you, the silence was tolerable because your presence itself speaks volumes. He feels secure and protected when he’s with you. The two of you exchange quick glimpses and occasionally catch the other’s eyes; and when you do, a small smile spreads across your faces.

“So,” you begin. Your hands are wedged between your thighs as you lean back on the couch. “What is it that you do?”

“What do I do?”

“Yeah. You know, like where do you work? Do you have any hobbies?” You sigh and close your eyes, shaking your head. “Were those questions too personal?”

Taemin reaches out a hand and places it gently on your forearm, giving it a soft squeeze. The feelings of your fingers brushing against your skin unleashes butterflies in your stomach. You look up and see the tenderness of his face. Being this close to him, you’re able to see the tiny features of his face; his square philtrum, and the small mole on the side of his nose bridge. When he removes his hand, coldness takes over where his hand was. The best way to describe it would be to imagine someone snatching a blanket from you and leaving you without any protection from the cold.

“They aren’t too personal. I teach children to dance at the dance center downtown. When I’m not doing that -”

“Or going to Caramella's,” you interject, making him smile.

“Or going to Caramella's, I choreograph, dance, and listen to music. When I think about it, I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t dance or listen to music.”

The sparkle that was once there disappears behind a shield of darkness. His jaw tenses as he looks to the floor while his hands gently stroke the cat that is asleep in his lap. He breathes slowly, trying to keep his emotions together.

A part of you wants to remain quiet, feeling it would be inappropriate for you to invade his privacy. But another part of you urges you to inquire about the sudden shift in his mood. You are friends and the only way to keep this friendship moving forward is being there for one another and being comfortable with the idea of confiding in one another.

“Dance is important to you.” You say. Taemin nods, not attempting to look at you. “Then why do you look so sad when you talk about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snaps.

His curt reply pierces your heart. You blame nobody but yourself for trying to inch your way into his personal life. You hate when people you care about are brusque towards you because no matter how hard you try, tears always appear, ready to fall and give anyone the ammo they need to hurt you more. You whisper a sorry and rise from the couch, disappearing around the corner where your room is.

Taemin’s chest feels heavy when he realizes how his answer came out; harsh. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk about his love for dance and music, he’s just not used to doing so. When words won’t work, dance, and music relay the message his words can’t. He turns to apologize to you but watches you quickly disappear around the corner. Though your head was down, he could tell that tears were beginning to fall by the way your index and thumb pressed on the inner corners of your eyes to prevent them from falling. Idiot.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I Sherbet?” He asks the cat that curls itself in a tighter ball. If it weren’t for Sherbet, he would go after you.

Taemin sinks into the quiet, tormented by the constant replay of his brusque tone. And each time he cringes as he remembers the look of hurt flash across your face, wincing as if his words physically lashed at you. His heart is instantly filled heavy with regret and sorrow as he remembers the tears in your eyes. 

That’s it, he thinks as he gently places Sherbet on the seat beside him.

Taemin steps lightly around the corner, careful to not give away his location. It’s easy to spot your room as it’s the only one with light illuminating under the small crack. There’s no movement coming for your room making him hesitant to reach up and knock on the door. His heartbeat rises to his ears and suddenly the only sound he can hear is shaky breaths as he knocks lightly on your door. For a moment, there is no sound until the door creaks open enough for Taemin to see the side of your face.

“___,” he sighs, grateful to see your face. “Can I come in?”

Your eyes fall to the floor before stepping aside and opening the door wider. He gives a gentle smile and steps in. Your room is minimalistic and tidy aside for the piles of books, papers, and journals on one of your nightstands. Along the light gray walls are pictures of you, the cats from the cafe, and a picture of you and Taemin. A smile creeps on his face when he remembers the staff threw him a surprise birthday party.

“Are you okay?” You ask. You try to shake the sadness from your tone but fail.

Taemin turns around to face you. The lone light on your nightstand provides the only light and adds to the somber feeling.

“Ye-yeah,” he stammers. The glossiness of your eyes makes it difficult for him to find his words until he breaks his gaze. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“No. It was my fault for intruding.” You move to sit on the bed and motion for him to sit beside you. “It wasn’t my place.”

“But I know I hurt your feelings.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just sensitive.” You sniff while blinking your eyes clear. “My mother would tell me that I’m too sensitive and needed to get tougher skin, like my younger brother. But I could never be like my brother. I wish he wasn’t so tough, he didn’t have to be.”

Your fingers unconsciously feel over a pendant hanging from your neck. Your eyes stare off in the distance, not blinking as if you want to remember what’s in front of you.

“My family didn’t have all the luxuries in the world, but we got by,” you begin as you feel the warmth of Taemin’s hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it. “One month we were struggling and he took it into his own hands and robbed a convenience store. He was an amazing runner and he got away. But, the store owner’s sons found him and beat him badly. He was put on life support until my parents decided to pull the plug. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hear my baby brother take his last breath. He gave me this necklace the last Christmas we spent together. I knew he couldn’t afford it, but I forgot about morals when I realized he thought deeply about what I would like, something he barely did. He wanted to do something nice for me.”

Warm tears slide down your face as your bottom lip quivers, even when you tuck it in between your teeth trying to stop it. It feels like a fire is burning in your throat as you try to keep yourself from erupting into tears. You squeeze Taemin’s hand, unable to hold your emotions in anymore.

Taemin’s arms immediately pull your body into his; his hand rests on the back of your head while his other arm keeps your body close. He feels your body tremble under his touch and feels tears prick his eyes until his vision is blurred. The girl that kept him coming to the cafe, the girl that always has a smile on her face, the girl that shows love to cats, the girl that captivated him has been bottling in this pain for who knows how long.

It feels like an eternity until your sobs subside and the painful memories wash away with your tears. You take a shaky breath as you sit up. Your hands cover your face until Taemin gently grasps your wrists and moves them.

“You’ve been hurting for a while,” he whispers. His warm fingertips brush against your cheeks to wipe away your tears. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

You sniff and manage to softly smile through the tears. “You’re here now, right?”

“I’m here now,” He restates and gently fixes your hair that has been disheveled by his hand.

Between being stuck inside with the snow, being vulnerable with Taemin, and the growing friendship and attraction to him, you can’t deny the growing feeling of attraction for him. You know you’re acting on impulse but fail to stop yourself as you lean forward and press your lips against his. It takes a moment for the kiss to register in Taemin’s mind until he relaxes. But as quickly as he does, his hands hold your shoulders and push you away, his eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, Taemin,” you mutter with wide eyes.

“I have to go,” he stammers. Before you can call his name, he hurries from your room. And by the time you register what just happened, you run into the hallway only to be met by the sound of your front door closing.

It feels as if the warmth left with him as you feel cold, alone, and empty. You curse yourself for your lack of control and place your back on the wall, sliding down until you’re seated on the floor. The fireball of sorrow enters your chest and throat once again, but every time it wants to erupt, you swallow it - no matter how much it hurts.

Your arm is met with a soft brush as you see a blur of orange at your side. Looking down, you can’t help but smile at Sherbet who nestles in your lap.

“Oh, Sherbet,” you croak, your hand gently stroking his back. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

One week turns into two, and soon turns into a month, and a month turns into two since the last time you and Taemin met after that night. And every night, at his normal time, you look out the window, hoping that he will magically appear, but he doesn’t. You can’t help but blame yourself for acting on your emotions and kissing him. When the second month rolls around, you don’t bother to look out the window anymore. You stop holding onto hope and realize that you scared away the one friend you wanted to hold close. Idiot, you think as you vigorously clean the counter.

The chime of the front door sounds, but you don’t turn around, thinking someone else will take care of the customer. Your thoughts pound in your ears and drown out the customer clearing their throat behind you.

“Excuse me,” they say, making you jump around and grabbing your chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s alright,” you say breathlessly. You straighten your posture and clear your throat. “May I help you?”

“Yes. I’m here to inquire about a cat named,” the customer looks down at their phone. “Sherbet.”

Your eyes grow wider at the sound of Sherbet’s name. Your heart beats faster in your chest at the thought of Sherbet going to a home. But you won’t hold onto that hope with much strength, nothing to you is worth holding onto with such hope anymore.

When the customer lifts their head, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at them. There’s something familiar about them; they have black hair that is pushed back, dressed in casual wear with a fashionable plaid trench coat and shows a smile you’ve only seen Taemin have. But you shake the thought and name of Taemin from your mind, thinking that you were now forcing yourself to see him in others.

“Of course,” you say and move behind the counter. You disappear for a moment before placing a piece of paper on the counter. “I just need your contact information so I can do a home inspection and interview.”

“Wow,” they laugh and begin filling out the paper. “You guys take this seriously, huh?”

“They’re creatures worthy of love and protection. Sherbet has already lived a rough life and I won’t let him live it again, not if I can help it.”

You take the paper from the customer, giving him a stern look that screamed you were deadly serious. They give an apologetic smile and look at the paper in your hands.

“Will you be able to come this week? I want it to be a surprise for my brother.”

“Shouldn’t you see if the cat is suited for your home before surprising someone with it?” You say with a harsh underlying tone. You stop yourself and sigh. This person isn’t Taemin, you think. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten a tone.”

“Don’t worry about it,” they say with a boyish smile. “I would feel the same if it were me.”

Confusion sets in you. But before you can reach out and ask what they meant, they wave goodbye and disappear out the door and into the darkness of the night. You sigh and look at the paper in your hand, your eyes scanning over the basic contact information. 

Lee Taesun. Lee Taemin...get yourself together, ___. You’re losing it.

The crisp wind nips at your nose as you trudge down a street of houses. On one hand, you carry Sherbet’s carrier while the other holds the address of Taesun. Now and then you glance at the paper and back at the houses, saying their numbers to yourself as you dodge a few kids playing whatever game they made up.

“245, 247, 249, 251,” you say low enough for only you and Sherbet to hear and stop in front of a small gate. The house has tan paneling with a black door, roof, and trim that also outlines the window. It stands at two stories and looks big enough to hold a family of 4 with more space if they could make do.

A shaky breath leaves you as you bring your hand up and ring the doorbell. Part of you wishes that no one was home, but you can hear a faint ‘Coming’ from behind the door followed by hurried footsteps. Your grip on Sherbet’s carrier gets tighter when the door opens to reveal Taesun.

“You’re here!” He exclaims and opens the door wider, waving for you to come in.

“I’m here,” you murmur as you step over the threshold. You can’t help but admire the rustic interior of the house. “You live here, alone?”

Taesun laughs and closes the door behind you. “Sometimes. I let my family stay over sometimes if they promise not to make a mess.”

Taesun’s warmth brushes by you as he signals you to follow him to a small living area. You set the carrier down and open it, allowing Sherbet to examine the home.

“You don’t seem to have anything in place to welcome a cat in your house,” you say monotonously while you walk around the room, your eyes glancing over framed pictures until you spot a familiar face.

You pick the picture up from the small wooden table and look at the smiling face next to Taesun. Taemin. The sight of him makes you want to smile and cringe as memories from that night flood back to you.

“Honestly,” Taesun begins. He stands beside you and points to Taemin in the picture. “The cat is for my brother. He always talks about the cat and this girl that he meets almost every night.”

“Did he say anything else?” You ask under your breath, trying to suppress any emotion that might want to pop up.

“Nope. I don’t know anything about this girl other than he’s been crushing on her for the last half-year,” Taesun shrugs and slumps in a chair by the window. “But he won’t tell me more. We have a work in progress relationship, I guess you can say.”

You turn to face Taesun and sit slowly on the chair across the room. “What do you mean?”

Taesun shifts uncomfortably in his chair. His eyes scan the floor as if he’s looking for the right thing to say.

“Growing up, I was always the star child. Got good grades, got into a good school, chose a great career in finance. I was the golden child. But Taemin, he lived for the arts and he’s great at it. But, you can guess how my parents felt about that.”

“Like he was a failure,” you whisper. Taesun sadly nods.

“He would use music and dance as his escape until he could escape. And looking back on it now, I wasn’t there for him. For years I’ve tried to understand why we were so disconnected. I was turning into my parents and he felt alone all those years.”

A sinking feeling opens in your heart when you think about the night Taemin didn’t want to talk about why he seemed sad talking about why he loved to dance and music. He was masking a pain that he didn’t want to show. You close your eyes and remember the harshness in his voice and the sadness swimming in his eyes. Your eyes open again and look at the picture in your hands.

“I understand,” you whisper and stand to your feet, placing the picture back in its place. “Sherbet is all yours, or your brother’s.”

“Are you sure? Aren’t you supposed to do an interview?”

“Your brother’s a good person,” you say softly and smile at Sherbet who’s now asleep in the middle of the floor. “He’ll take care of Sherbet, I know he will.”

Before Taesun and ask, you hurry out of the room and dash through the front door. You don’t look back at the house or the kids playing, you keep your eyes forward and swallow any emotion threatening to erupt from your core. The Taemin you know has been hurt so much in the past that it still lingers with him, but he never shows it. He can’t forget and he won’t allow himself to.

The windchill doesn’t bother you anymore as your mind replays the last half hour. Taemin and his relationship with Taesun, his brother wanting to adopt Sherbet for him, Taemin discussing Sherbet with Taesun, and finally, Taemin crushing on someone he met within the half-year. Your legs stop moving when you start to feel out of breath. While your mind was swirling with a thousand thoughts, your legs ran until they could no more.

Your hands are on your knees, trying to stabilize your breathing and clear your head. But Taemin’s face keeps appearing when you close your eyes. You can’t escape him, and no matter how angry you are at him for disappearing, you understand why he did. He has always been on the shyer side with you and when you kissed him, it scared him. You want to reach out and apologize to him, talk to him, but after so long, is it worth it?

“Are you sure you’re okay closing tonight?” Sam asks while pushing his arms through his jacket. “I can always do it.”

“It’s fine,” you say with a smile, walking beside him to the front door. “You always close. You should go home early for once.”

“Don’t forget to lock the door.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t forget to shut off all the lights.”

“Goodbye, Sam!” Lazily rolling your eyes, you shove him out the door and lock it. He pretends to be hurt but his face soon melts into a smile. He waves before disappearing into the night.

You turn and look at the cafe, taking in how dead it seemed without any life in it. Normally, you would have Sherbet with you to keep you company, but now you feel more empty than ever. With nothing better to do, you grab a rag and begin cleaning the tables until you reach the one. The one where Taemin always sat. You stare at the seat he always sat in and force yourself to imagine him there. A small smile creeps on your face when you remember his voice and how his lips always poke out a little when he talks about something he truly cares about.

Then suddenly, a loud knock on the window to your side snatches you out of the trance. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Afraid to look, you slowly turn towards the sound and feel like someone pushed pause. You stare at the gentle eyes staring back at you, slightly wide in response to your scared expression.

“Taemin?” You mouth, your eyebrows furrowing. He nods and points to the door, asking to be let in.

Your legs move before you can register that boy standing on the other side of the window. Your hands work quickly to unlock the door and open it, allowing him entrance. When he enters, you notice he’s jumpier than normal as he paces back and forth, his mouth opening and closing, trying to get his words together.

“Where have you been?” You ask before thinking. He stops when you speak and cringes a little at the unexpected abruptness of your tone.

Taemin sighs and glances at you apologetically before taking a seat at his normal table. “I’m sorry, ___.”

You want to say something, but you force yourself to keep your mouth shut, your sad glare is enough to convey your feelings. Taemin motions for you to sit across from him to which you, reluctantly, do. His apologetic eyes search your face before averting to his clasped hands.

“I wanted to talk to you -”

“Then why didn’t you?” You interrupt with a tinge of hurt coating your tone.

“I didn’t know what I was going to say. The girl I -” he pauses for a moment and squeezes his eyes tight. “The girl I’ve liked for the past months confided in me and kissed me. It all happened so fast that I didn’t think. So I did what I knew I could do, run.”

Taemin opens his eyes again to reveal their glossy appearance. He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of yours.

“Before I knew it, so much time had passed that I wondered if you ever wanted to hear from me. And then, Taesun surprised me with Sherbet and said that you thought I was a good person. And I thought, ‘she still thinks I’m a good person despite ghosting her’.”

“And you decided to come to see me?”

He nods and squeezes your hand gently. “I’m sorry, ___.”

His touch sends waves of electricity through your body, making your heart skip a beat. No matter how hurt you were by his disappearance, the fact he came back and explained himself made you understand him better. He was just scared.

“I’m sorry too,” you squeeze his hand back and offer a gentle smile. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Do you regret it? Were my lips chapped or something?” He jokes that makes you chortle.

“No! But, I feel bad for taking advantage of the moment. I got so wrapped up with everything and my feelings…”

Taemin leans forward on the table with his hand still wrapped around yours. His eyes give a gleam while he playfully smirks.

“So, you had feelings for me?”

You roll your eyes and fail at hiding the bashful smile growing on your face. “I have feelings for you.”

Silence falls between the two of you except for the light music dancing from the speakers. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating everything it touches. It takes a moment, but you finally lock eyes with Taemin and you feel yourself about to melt. His presence makes you want to jump into his arms and run away at the same time. But even if you wanted to run, his warm brown eyes hold you captive and begs you not to go.

“___,” he speaks softly, bringing your attention back to him. “I would like nothing more than to take you on a date.”

For once, you don’t need to think of an answer. “I would like that very much.”

The sun breaks the brisk cold as the temperature rises. The streets come to life as more people come out from the shelter of their homes, including you. There’s a spring in your step that gets higher as you approach the local theater. You stop far enough back to see the marquee in its fullness.

The Madman. Starring Lee Taemin as Detective Myers.

You feel like a proud mother seeing Taemin’s name. People flow around you as you bring your phone out to take a selfie with the sign, like water flowing around a rock in the river. Your fingers move quickly and send the photo to Taemin, who is, as he stated earlier that day, nervous for opening night. You hope the picture will give him strength.

The theater is filled as the usher escorts you to your seat, the front row of the balcony. ‘The best seat in the house’, you remember him saying with a bright smile. And indeed it was. When he asked you on a date, you didn’t expect anything more than a meal at a restaurant, instead, he suggested a show and dinner. Little did you know at the time that he would be the one in the show. You smile at the playbill in your hand, your eyes staying focused on Taemin’s name. The lights dim before you can read the other names, adding to your excitement.

The show goes off without a hitch - the cast receives a standing ovation as the cast takes the stage for their final bow. But even though you enjoyed all their performances, your eyes can’t leave the bright face of Taemin. His smile is so wide that his eyes appear narrow as he waves to the audience. He brings his hand to his face, shielding his eyes from the lights as he cranes his head up. When he spots you, he frantically waves at you, jumping a little due to his excitement. Equally as excited, you bounce and wave back to the boy on stage.

Backstage is full of commotion with the cast and crew and their families. You try your best to not bump into anyone as you search for your star. It doesn’t take long as you follow the sound of a familiar laugh. You stop short when you see Taemin, Taesun, and what you believe to be their parents huddled together for a picture. If you just look at them, you wouldn’t think that they weren’t supportive of Taemin’s dreams or that he felt alone for a majority of his youth. Seeing him and Taesun joke around makes you smile as you watch them. In a way, flashbacks from you and your brother flood your mind.

“___!” Taemin calls out as his eyes meet yours. He smiles and leaves his brother’s side with his arms open wide until he reaches you and engulfs you in a hug. “I’m so glad you made it.” He whispers in your hair.

You bring your arms around his waist and hold him tight. “You did amazing tonight.”

Taemin pulls away and cradles your face in his hands. His warmth brings you comfort and shelter from the busyness going on around you. Your heart hammers in your chest as you take a small step forward to be closer to his body. His eyes fall to your lips, licking his as he leaned down, inches away from your face. Your breath lodges in your throat as his breath tickles your nose. Your eyes close as you rise on your toes, ready to feel his lips against yours until Taesun interrupts.

“Is this the famous ___?” Taesun calls out. The loudness of voice snatches Taemin away as he spins around and gives an embarrassed smile. He reaches behind to grab your hand, squeezing it gently to bring you to his side. “It’s nice to meet you again. And it's nice to finally put a face with the name.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” you smile. Your fingers squeeze around Taemin’s when your heart beats faster.

You can feel the warmth of Taemin grow more prominent as he shifts on his foot, putting himself closer to you. His cheeks flush when Taesun goes on about how much Taemin likes you and before he can get too carried away, Taemin reaches out and lightly shoves his shoulder.

“Shut up,” he says quietly, but Taesun just laughs and ruffles his younger brother’s hair.

“Alright, alright.” He directs his attention back to you and softens his face. “Where are you guys going after this?”

Your mind flashes through the many conversations between you and Taemin, trying to pull a memory out that talks about the date. But when you come up blank, you look to Taemin with curious eyes. He looks down towards you and smiles softly, understanding the confusion in your eyes.

“Dinner. But, I didn’t tell her where. It’s a secret.” He winks before turning back to his brother. “We’re actually about to leave.”

“Are you going to say bye to Mom and Dad?”

Taemin’s hand squeezes around yours as he clenches his jaw. He holds himself tall while his muscles tense, his eyes looking past Taesun and to his parents. Though they are trying to make amends, it’s clear that Taemin is still hurt and finds it difficult to come to them. But the feeling of your hand on his arm relaxes him as he looks back towards you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper low enough for only him to hear. “I’ll wait outside.”

Before he can protest, you give his hand a final squeeze and leave his side until the crowd consumes you. You don’t bother to look back and push through until you exit through a side door and walk until the marquee is in your vision again.

Not much time passes until you hear the familiar voice of Taemin calling your name. He sports an overhead hoodie with a jean jacket over it, black jeans, and basic white sneakers. His stage makeup has been removed, revealing his bare face, but his hair is the same as it was on stage. He holds his arm out for you to take and you eagerly lock your elbow with his.

Leading the way, Taemin takes a slow pace, trying to savor each minute you two have together. Both of you can’t muster any words to say, deciding to enjoy the other’s presence under the stars. Now and then, you catch Taemin’s glances, his eyes sparkling more under the bright lights from shop signs. And each time, you exhale a ragged breath and turn away. Judging by the quiet snickers, Taemin enjoys seeing you flustered just by looking at you.

It’s not much farther you walk until Taemin covers your eyes and leads you into a building, helping you watch your step. A door creaks open and you use all of your senses to make a picture of where you are. But the unfamiliar scent of cooked food mixed with an aromatic air freshener stumps you. Before you can ask where you are, Taemin removes his hands, revealing a cozy living area whose furniture has been pushed to the side and replaced with a small circular table with plates in front of two chairs.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he whispers while closing the door behind him. “I wanted to have dinner alone.”

You turn to meet Taemin’s face; his expression is soft, eyes full of hope, and his cheeks flushing once again. A relieved smile appears on his face when your face brightens.

“I don’t mind at all,” you say. “You cooked?”

“I did!” He exclaims and rushes past you to the crockpot sitting on his counter. “I decided to go with the safe option of a salad, spaghetti, and breadsticks.”

“It smells great,” you smile and take a seat at the small table. Before you can speak, a soft ball of warmth grazes your leg and you immediately know the creature that has come to greet you. “Sherbet!”

You reach down to pick the cat up and hold him safely in your lap. His quiet purrs bring a smile to your face as you stroke his back. Judging by the content on his face, he’s adapted to his new home and being spoiled, judging by the number of toys and elaborate cat tree in the corner. But your smile soon fades when your hand grazes against a small square box hanging from his collar. You bring it around to examine it more, but before you can open it, Taemin’s panicked voice makes you stop.

“Wait!” He exclaims. The sound of utensils hitting the counter is followed by his quick footsteps. He kneels beside you, holding your hand in his to prevent you from opening the box. “Don’t open it.” He gasps between breaths.

“Why?” You ask nervously. “What’s in the box?”

You squeeze the box tighter in your hand, enough so Taemin knows you aren’t letting go until he explains. You hold your gaze with his and watch his face fall in defeat. He lowers his eyes and gently pries your hand off the box, and to his surprise, you allow him to. His fingers work swiftly to unhook it from Sherbet’s collar.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he whispers. He licks his lips and holds his breath for a second before exhaling. “But I guess Sherbet didn’t want to keep it a secret.”

You look down at Sherbet and mutter a sorry. Here you are, prying again, forcing him to reveal something when you should just wait and allow things to come out for themselves. The unexpected touch of Taemin’s fingers brushing against your cheek makes you jump slightly before turning to him, your eyes apologetic and beginning to gloss.

“Hey,” he whispers as he notices the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m not upset. Nervous, but not upset.” He smiles and opens the box, turning it to you to reveal the treasure inside. A simple gold chain with a ruby pendant shines at you. “___, I’ve let too many opportunities pass by. And we’ve been friends for a while. And I -”

He pauses and looks around as if the words will magically appear and come to him. But his panicked expression melts away when you softly call his name and tell him to take his time. Nodding, he takes a breath and begins again.

“I would love to be your boyfriend if you’d let me.”

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” You laugh as Taemin exhales in relief and nods. “Tae, it’s me. Just ask me.”

“____, will you be my girlfriend?”

There’s no reason for you to think about the answer.

“I will,” you say excitedly and lean forward until your lips crash against his. Sherbet jumps from your lap, leaving the two of you for a place in his cat tree.

The slow, sweet movement of Taemin’s lips against yours intoxicates you as you press into him more, trying to feel all of the warmth radiating from his body. Nothing could prepare you for the overwhelming feeling of love growing in your chest, ready to burst at any moment. Seconds or minutes could have passed before you pull away, trying to catch your breath. An embarrassed smile is painted across your faces, but your eyes glow with the desire to love and be loved.

“Well,” Taemin says, breaking the silence that has fallen between you. “I suppose this belongs to you now.”

Gently, he transfers the necklace from the box and around your neck, his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. You look down at the gem winking back at you and can’t contain your growing smile.

“Since we’re officially a couple,” Taemin says, sitting back on his knees. His eyes are filled with admiration at the necklace hanging from your neck. “Can I get free coffee and snacks from Caramella’s?”

You pause for a moment before bursting with laughter. “We’ll see, Taemin. We’ll see.”

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Unusual Thanksgiving (NOS4A2 Longish-Drabble Fic)

(A/N: As of writing this, it’s the weekend. I’ve noticed at least every weekend for a few weeks now I post some short little Drabble to help let out my emotions. Here’s another one that’s a little bit longer. With Thanksgiving coming up and my ass having little time to think of something and cook it up (pun intended), I thought I’d take the approach of having whatever come to my mind and writing it out. It’s a unique one, as you don’t usually associate horror and angst alongside the family fluffiness of Thanksgiving, but... here we are! I remember a while back I wrote how Rose’s parents would react to her having a relationship with Charlie, and that was one of my inspirations, alongside how rough things are this year. I’d like to wish you all Happy Thanksgiving ahead of time. Stay safe and enjoy a good ass feast. It’s been tough, and it’s had some highlights, but now’s the time we can all put aside our differences and whatever else bullshit and be thankful about what we do have this year; whether it be supplies or each other, we’ll get through this. 🧡🍂🍁🦃)

(Apologize for no Read More, posting this from mobile, and I found the image randomly, so if you want credit, let me know).

November is a beautiful and calming time of the year, but under certain circumstances, it can be oddly scary. This is most likely due to how dead the world is. There’s usually no snow, and what leaves remain are brown, have decayed from the trees, and collapsed to the ground to crumble and rot. I noticed this when I was younger, and part of me thought November was spookier than Halloween in some cases.

Of course, to me, any time of the year could be scary. Horror doesn’t stop and end at one point; it is an infinite occurrence that follows humanity wherever we go.

From the time I was a little kid, I would find horror in the most obscure of places. Scary movies never bothered me, and in fact, I was always excited when I watched them. What should’ve terrified me brought me nothing but adrenaline and fascination. Instead, odd things scared me, things most people would poke fun at if they saw my reaction to them, things most would shrug off. Call me Freudian, but perhaps my fears, just as yours are, are based in our differing subconscious minds, so there is no true definition of “stupid” horror.

The one thing that I know for certain that’s frightened me since I was younger are bees, wasps, yellow jackets, and hornets. Why these little yellow and black bugs terrify me, I will never truly know the answer as to why. Is it because they’re so small, yet they can hurt you so badly? Is it because of their appearance? I don’t want bees to die out, as I know of their importance, and bumbles don’t bother me because they usually leave you alone (and they’re oddly cute), but any other bee or wasp can stay away from me. I’ve never even been stung by one, yet one buzz or sight of one near me makes my body react instantaneously. I get away as much as I can and even scream sometimes. Not wise to scream or move a lot when you’re in their presence, I know. But when your body reacts the way it does, what are you to do?

When I was a little bit older, I would say roughly 8 or 9 years old, a new type of fear spawned its way into my mind: the fear of shadow people.

I don’t know what it is about those things either that scare me so much. When I first discovered I had this fear, I believe I was watching an episode of Ghost Adventures, and I saw them capture a really clear shadow figure on camera. It chilled me to the bone, and from then on, just the thought of one creeped me out. One particular episode where the crew went to an old, abandoned and haunted Tuberculosis sanitarium got to me because shadow figures were prominent there, and they actually captured two on camera going down a long hallway.

Shadow people, from what I’ve seen online, are very mysterious. They could come from another dimension, they could be demonic; some are harmless, others are harmful, and it’s all dependent on what experience you have with them. Zak Bagans and his crew have come across quite a few demonic ones, and their guests have usually described them as tall, thin, 6-7 foot tall entities that are dark both in physicality and energy. They look like an individual spray painted with pitch black aerosol, and darker than a room if it were void of all light. Sometimes they have red or white eyes, and sometimes they can have differing appearances that are just as terrifying as the blank appearances they often have. They can stand there and look over you while you’re sleeping at night, they can stand in a corner and stare at you, maybe rocking a bit, they could dart down a hallway, hiding from you, they can crawl on the floor, they can crawl on the ceiling... whatever it is they do, it’s all bone chilling to me, and I hate it all with a burning passion. I don’t care even if they were harmless: If I were to ever see one in real life, I would have a heart attack.

That is why I am thankful I’ve only seen them either when I’m paranoid for whatever reason before I go to sleep (but they’re not really there, my mind’s just playing tricks on me), or if I have a nightmare and they’re present. This story will focus on the latter.

*************************************************

Halloween, Charlie’s birthday on November 1st, the Election... it all came and left sooner than expected, and we needed to plan what we were doing about Thanksgiving. I know, a vampire who’s all about Christmas celebrating other holidays. It seems unreal, but I assure you, he has respect for other holidays as well. Christmas just happens to be his favorite and one that brings him and the kids lots of comfort and joy. They say Christmas is a state of mind and is never truly over, so... I suppose Charlie is just a living embodiment of that saying.

With COVID still in full swing, and cases breaking records everyday, people were stocking up on supplies yet again alongside their Turkey Day feasts. We knew we had to hurry up and order stuff the week before Thanksgiving at most.

Living in Gunbarrel, Colorado, away from everyone except for each other and the kids when we spent quite a few days in Christmasland each week, it was relieving to know we weren’t around tons of people. The virus wouldn’t affect Charlie or the kids, but me being the only human, and one with asthma, it would, so it was calming to not have to worry as much as many other folks about exposure. Not to mention, the town was small, and everybody knew everybody. Whenever we did enter town, which took 10 minutes to get to, we would see everyone keeping their distance and respecting each other. It was nice to see our small and (just about) off-the-grid community helping each other during these times.

The only two local stores were an Acme that everyone went to, and the Gunbarrel General Store, owned by a kindly old man who looked like Santa Clause named Sam. Before everyone rushed to Acme, we decided on doing a curbside pickup order, and picking up anything else that was not available at Sam’s, as he was sure to provide lots of Thanksgiving food.

It was going to certainly be an interesting Thanksgiving without my usual family, and not being back home, but I was going to call them on that fateful Thursday and talk to them for a few hours. Charlie and I would have a small dinner together, and we would spend most of the day in Christmasland with our children, dining on delicious food and laughing together. The thought warmed my heart and made me feel better about this Thanksgiving. We would be okay, and everything would be fine, despite my horrible dreams...

For whatever reason, over these past few weeks, my dreams were plagued with shadow people haunting me. No explanation was given, and no explanation would need to be given for it to still occur and damn near break me. Maybe it was some sort of unresolved issue going through the back of my mind, maybe it was fueled by my stresses of being busy lately, but regardless of whatever the issue was, I was haunted by them. The day after Charlie’s birthday, we watched the original Nosferatu together, and I fell asleep near the end, experiencing the first of these dreams.

I was walking down a dark and cold hallway. I was 8 years old again. I don’t know how I knew this, but it was one of those instances where you know a random piece of information in a dream. I was holding two small plastic My Little Pony figurines I got from Happy Meals at that time, a small Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash. I hadn’t seen those toys in years, yet there they were in my hands. When I looked up, a shadow person was standing near the end of the pathway. It stood tall and authoritative, looming over me as if it wanted to grab me and drag me down the corridor straight into Hell, or wherever it came from.

I took off running, and it crawled on all fours after me. I screamed and kept running until I came across a goofy, tall, and lanky figure: Count Orlock, or the actual Nosferatu himself, was standing there. I hid behind him and begged him to protect me. He smiled his stupid smile and looked down at the shadowy behemoth. It seemed to back down a bit once he snarled at it. It backed up behind a corner, peaking at us once before vanishing.

My relief was short lived for only a few moments because Orlock wandered off into the darkness.

“Where are you going? Come back here!” I tried to call after him, but I was cut off by the shadow figure crawling on the ceiling and grabbing me. I gave a scream and found myself awake on the couch, springing to life and hearing the opening music to Downton Abbey greeting me. Charlie had tuned in after the movie. He looked at me with a confused and concerned look. I explained everything to him and he comforted me, laughing at the thought of the original Nosferatu visiting me.

The dreams afterward were more terrifying than the first. One dream featured a shadow person staring over me as I slept, another featured one standing in the corner of the room twisting and contorting its head violently. The third had a shadow figure hunched over near a window within an abandoned building. I was walking through the woods in another nightmare when a whole group of them were peaking at me through the trees. I ran down another hallway and one was behind me. I was in an unknown house and down the hall near the steps, one was charging towards me. Each time, I would wake up and feel unsettled. Charlie would comfort me, but it was always hard to fall back asleep, for I feared I’d be terrorized by the evil onyx creatures wanting nothing more than to consume me in their shadowy force and make my soul rot.

Despite all of my terror and the tiredness that accompanied my days, the focus for today would have to be Thanksgiving dinner.

“My mom mailed me the recipe to her sweet potatoes last week, and let me tell you, they are actually sweet and delicious,” I told Charlie. “So you can put down all the ingredients for that. We already got turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes written down... Oh! Green bean casserole, put that down... and we need apple and pumpkin pie. We already have whip cream and gravy in the fridge, and cider is in the cabinet. I think that’s everything.”

Charlie nodded and wrote these things down. Once he was done, he looked over the list and showed me.

“Yup, that’s everything! Alright, let’s look up to see what Acme has.”

As I pulled up the site on my phone, he spoke up.

“Rosie, are you bothered by not seeing your family? If so, we can visit them on Thanksgiving Day or I could go the extra mile and bring them here if you’d like.”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “I’m alright, baby. I know they’ll be alright too. Things seem to be... okay between us, even if we did get into arguments since last we spoke in person.”

He looked down and felt guilty.

“Hey, don’t you feel guilty,” I reassured him. “It’s their fault, not yours. They see you in whatever light they want to, but I know who you really are, and I love you. I don’t care what they say or think about you, hence why I’m sticking by you and left with you to come here.”

He nodded and pulled me close to him, resting his chin on my head. “I admit, my darling, I am constantly bothered by this thought that I have destroyed the relationship you have with your family.”

“Like I said, they’re the ones that can’t accept that you and I truly love each other. I’ve been patient and offered them every chance to accept you. I’ve explained and talked to them, but they don’t want to listen to my reasoning. I don’t know what else to do.”

He kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’m glad that you at least still talk to each other.”

“Me too. At least we have that... but let’s not worry about that. We got food to focus on.”

We ordered everything that we could (the only things not available until the week of Thanksgiving were the two pies, but we knew Sam would have them). When the time came, we loaded into the Wraith and the trunk was packed with our dinner. We stopped by the General Store and Sam happily gave “Father Christmas” (as Charlie was known as) the pies. Since it was still light out, we decided to go for a drive to enjoy the autumn weather. As I mentioned before, November is usually dead and brown, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t peaceful and calm. We observed the soothing and cold weather as Fleetwood Mac and The Doors sang along on the old radio.

While gazing at the brown leaves and bare trees rocking their branches above us, I drifted off to sleep without even thinking about it. Stevie Nicks and Jim Morrison’s voices melted into oblivion as I found myself walking through a tranquil forest of dead trees. Cold, I wrapped my arms around myself until I felt a bit warmer, and I saw a grove of orange trees. It was as if I teleported back in time to October, and the trees were still alive with vibrant color.

I ran over to them, taken aback by their beauty. The leaves that were on the ground were still orange, and I tossed them up into the air with childish carelessness. At last! For once, I was having a good dream!

However, that enjoyment would be cut short when I looked into the distance in between the trees. The world and my joy winded down like a dying record player.

From somewhere beyond the misty horizon, a pair of white eyes were watching me.

Dread hit me and I ran away. The trees began to rot again, and the orange faded into brown. The sunlight morphed into fog, and the warmth dissipated from my body. I fell to the ground, tripping over my own clumsy feet.

Now I was somewhere entirely different. I was in a dark, unfamiliar bedroom. I couldn’t move except for my eyes, like I was suffering from sleep paralysis. I looked up to see the shadow figure that was hiding behind the trees. Its white eyes were dimmer than before, and its solid black body cast lighter shadows behind it. I tried to scream, but I could only choke out vocalizations as it covered my mouth.

It lifted its ice cold hand from my mouth and pointed to the left. My eyes glanced in that direction and a scream broke from my throat.

A pointy eared demon with beady eyes, a close together face, and a sickening smile was on top of my chest. Its body was too dark to make out any notable features, but it was lighter than the shadow next to me. The pressure on top of me crushed the life from my lungs. It continued to smile, as if nothing in the world bothered it at all.

Before my scream ran out of air, it wrapped its cold hands around my neck and tightened to the point it was strangling me. The rest of my scream died out, my eye sight was fading until it was only a pinhole...

Air rushed into my lungs as I jolted into a conscience state once again. My eyes darted rapidly and my body clung to the leather seat of the Wraith. We were no longer driving, and instead parked in the garage. A wave of nausea flooded my head and stomach, and I pressed my hand to my eyes. My mind finally registered Charlie’s soft voice.

“Rose! My sweet Rose! Whatever is the matter?”

“I... Jesus Christ... I... had another nightmare... this was... Good God, how else could I describe it?!”

While we gathered the groceries into the house, I detailed my horrifying dream to him. He was immensely disturbed and decided enough was enough.

“I know you believe in ghosts and demons and the sort,” said he, “and I know such things exist, since I’ve seen spirits and souls before. Because of this, you and I can pray before you go to sleep tonight. Unlike other vampires, holy things do not bother me, unless I were to drink or touch holy salt or holy water, in which case I would feel some discomfort thanks to the darker side of my being. I have an old angel doll that my daughters used to play with and hold whenever they felt uncomfortable or scared. That could help you too. I will hypnotize you and make you have sweet dreams. If any dark entity is going to mess with you, I will protect you. I don’t think you have an attachment, but these dreams are certainly unusual.”

I agreed to all of this. That night, we said a prayer together, I snuggled with the angel doll, and he hypnotized me to sleep. I had a dream I couldn’t remember, but it was certainly the most peaceful I had in a while, and it was even better then the beginning of that nightmare I had that evening.

A sense of purity filled my heart, and I knew nothing dark would ever hurt me or anyone I loved, as whatever God that may be out there as my witness.

*************************************************

Thanksgiving arrived at an unbelievably fast rate. No other bad dreams tormented me, and I couldn’t have felt more happy. Charlie and I worked together to prep dinner. When I finished making sure the turkey was good and putting it in the oven, Charlie presented me with a package.

“It’s from your home,” he observed.

I opened it up at the dining room table and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was the Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash figurines from my childhood. Underneath them, was a heartfelt letter from my family, detailing how they had recently found these toys and thought of me. They missed me, and they even apologized for all of their harsh words against me and Charlie. They gave it some thought, and they came to the conclusion that as long as I was happy and in love, and as long as Charlie truly loved me and treated me well, then all was perfectly fine. They wished us a very happy Thanksgiving from 2 hours ahead and many miles away.

Tears fell from my cheeks. I was crying of joy for more than the obvious reason being that my family and I were rekindling together.

I realized now why I had such horrible dreams. It was either my worries and fears of my family not being together haunting me, or maybe even some dark force, but Twily and Dashie here weren’t random parts of that first dream at all; they served as symbolism. They represented hope and familial innocence long lost, now brought back to light. Maybe they sent a message out in the universe to my family that Charlie was a good man. That could also be why Orlock was protecting me in that same dream, but him leaving symbolized my family keeping Charlie away from me, therefore causing bad things to happen to me. And perhaps when Charlie helped me and cleansed all darkness (regardless of it being real or not), those ponies knew ahead of time he was going to do that, and reassured my family he was always going to protect me. It sounded bizarre, but it was the best reasoning I could come up with to explain these odd coincidences.

I immediately called my family afterwards and told them everything. They were chilled themselves because my mother had a dream the night before about Charlie bringing forth bouts of light to protect me from a wave of darkness, and she thought it was her brain processing her acceptance of him, but now that my story was told, it made things even clearer.

We concluded talking by coming up with a date to have dinner together and to see each other again back home. We exchanged I love yous and Happy Thanksgivings, and I hung up feeling thankful. As Charlie and I ate a bit of dinner, as we went to Christmasland, and as we ate lots of food with our children, warmth and light abundant, I was grateful that I had the family I did, the boyfriend and children that I did, and the light that still shined in the universe, even on the most darkest of days. This year has been hard, but gratitude for all the good, hope, and love, even when we’re distant figuratively, literally, or both, makes this holiday season a brighter one.

[eccentricpony]

Here are the imagines for Tenma, Misumi and Kazunari directly following a production of The Great Sardine Search with a reader s/o who loves their cat ears!

This was written in the timeframe of play revival 2-3 years after its premiere, with the reader assumed to have met them after the original production took place (so they’ve never seen the costumes).

Mildly steamy content towards the end of Kazunari’s. Each of these three will have a continuation with varying degrees of NSFW content at my NSFW blog. I will reblog this post with a link once the NSFW content is posted. Follow me to stay updated when that hits!

If you’d like to read the Muku + Yuki imagines for this request (which will not include a NSFW follow-up), check them out HERE

Note: I created all the character headers for these and would appreciate proper credit with a link back to my blog if they’re used elsewhere.

·        When Tenma was immersed in a role, it didn't matter if he was playing a busboy, tourist #3, or a damn stop sign, he would put his all into that role.

·        The old Tenma may have raised his nose at the very idea of portraying an animal on stage, but the new Tenma embraced such challenges.

·        So when Tenma played a cat, he was a veritable twitchy eared, pouncy, laser-pointer-chasing feline.

·        He was still coming down from the endorphin high when you entered the backstage. He was already rather sweaty from grueling stage lights and a high energy performance, so he was hoping that the perspiration caused by your presence wouldn’t be too apparent.

·        “You didn’t tell me you were actually going to have cat ears!” With a crooked grin, you sidle up to him, poking fun at him in a rhythm that you had both perfected over the course of a year.

·        You waste no time before standing on your toes to accost his ginger kitty ears, scratching behind one and looking at him expectantly as though you’d elicit a purr any minute. You had no doubt that he would find this situation mildly humiliating, but after being together for so long, rare were the opportunities for you to see him squirm like this.

·        “Uhh, well I am playing a cat. Cat’s have… cat ears?” He grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. But he didn’t stop you, stealing a side glance at the room to see if his fellow troupe members were witnessing this mortification. If anyone else had rushed at him, gushing and teasing him as you had, he would not have accepted it nearly as gracefully. But you weren’t anyone else, in fact you had a way about you that turned the normally acerbic Tenma into warm putty.

·        Removing your hand from his ear, you reach over to slide the side of your finger down his nose playfully to which you receive a flinch. If you didn’t know the cat ears were fake, you’d expect a hiss on top of it.

·        “You were really great, Tenma,” you offer in another tone completely. “You’re always really great.”

·        And like clockwork, Tenma became butter. You had a way of speaking that was… and you were so beautiful, and he had worked with plenty of beautiful costars, but something about you was just… 

·         He just didn’t understand what made you such a singular wonder, and he didn’t have to; he was crazy stupid into you and hearing you praise him like this was all the validation he needed.

·        “Thanks for supporting me,” he countered sincerely, lifting the corners of his mouth.

·        You mirrored his fondness with a smile, and the two of you share a moment free of pretense. Although initially you had never sought a relationship with him because of his career (and in truth, your first impression of him found his attitude positively grating), you were now unquestionably his biggest fan. You patiently endured any duration of time where his filming schedule required you to be apart (though he tried to keep this to an absolute minimum) and you gently talked him down from any of the inconsiderate tirades he spewed, insulting the “incompetence” surrounding him at work. You were both learning patience, and simultaneously growing a healthy mutual understanding.

·        Your eyes suddenly perk up. “Hey, don’t you have a tail?”

·        He swats at your hand as you try to look at his butt tail.

·        “What?! Wait, y- you’ll pull it, s- stop!” Once you’ve stopped the grabbing, he dutifully turns to his side.

·        “Yeah I have a tail. Happy?” A knot in his throat develops as he watches you check out his “tail,” feeling quite the fool once he realizes he’s showcasing his backside for you, and he immediately faces forward.

·        “I like your tail,” you flirt with an overzealous Kazunari-caliber wink, and your boyfriend grows as red as a fire hydrant.

·        “Yeah, yeah… can we go?” he blusters with phony irritation, grasping the crook of your elbow and escorting you towards the door.

·        Misumi broke into a run the moment he glimpsed you backstage, lifting and spinning you in the air with such gusto you could have easily injured a 4 foot radius if you didn’t have the wisdom and experience to tuck in your legs during Misu’s hugs.

·        Once he finally returned you to the ground, you took his face in your hands, beaming ear to ear. “You were so amazing, Misu! I had no idea you were such an incredible actor!”

·        “I just act the way I think gramps would act,” he shrugged with the sincere modesty that you found so endearing, eyes gleaming the way they always did under your gaze.

·        “Is there anything you can’t do?” you praised, moving your hands from clasping his cheeks to holding his impossibly soft hands.

·        “I can’t fly,” he laughed, shuffling his feet at the compliment, swinging both your arms with his movement. Misumi’s easy-going nature made it challenging to take him off guard, but any attention from you made him uncharacteristically shy, even after the many months you had been together. You took this rare stationary moment to asses his adorable wardrobe.

·        His costume could not be a better fit to his personality. Your boyfriend was a bouncy ball of positive energy, and you had difficulty keeping up with him on most days. But you could never say that it wasn’t worth the extra effort to maintain his stride. As a boyfriend, Misumi was caring, affectionate, kind, and uplifting. His eccentric obsession with triangles only made him all the more endearing to you, and you swooned whenever he brought you an “extra special super” triangle. Sure, sometimes it was public property which you had to awkwardly return later, but you’d never refuse a gift from your starry-eyed sweetheart.

·        Also, you think you might have heard him talking to a few cats on occasion, and you could have sworn they replied in meowisms… but maybe you were just letting your love for him cloud your better judgment? Either way, dressed as he was at the moment, he was the human embodiment of his furry brethren.

·        As he swayed, the tan cat ears poking out from his hood caught your eye. You let go of his left hand to point at your discovery.

·        “Misu, your ears are triangles!” you exclaimed, hoping that he hadn’t noticed this yet (of course he had) so that you could see the adorable expression of joy he made whenever he found a new triangle.

·        “I know! Triangles you can wear are the best triangles!” He reached up and lightly clasped the headpiece with his free hand, fingers tracing the triangular shape. His eyes flicked to the crowd of his fellow troupe members leaving the room, and you both said your goodbyes to each of them in kind. 

·         Misumi had been staying at your place most nights as of late, though you insisted that opening performance night would be the last one he’d spend apart from his theater family until the conclusion of the play’s run. You knew you’d miss him tremendously, but you’d never want to negate this opportunity for him to truly bond with his fellow actors. Therefore, you had every intention on making this night special.

·        Now the only two in the room, you gently squeeze his hand and step forward to kiss the tiny birthmark under his eye. “Misu and me time?”

·        “Us time,” he concurred, responding in kind with a kiss to your cheek, nose brushing past your ear and giving you chills with the ghost of his breath. “Maybe also origini?”

·        “Of course! I already have some waiting for you, my Misu!” you happily acquiesced, swinging his hand in yours along your side as you bounced out of the room.

·        “You likey?” Kazunari leaned forward to allow you proper access to his head.

·        With a brief squeal, you lay the tips of your fingers upon the vertex of a little navy cat ear. “Oh my God, Kazu, how are you this cute,” you simper.  

·        How you got like this, you’ll never know. Well, yeah, actually you do know – Kazunari happened to you. You were never the type to be so lovey-dovey, but then again you had never been with a guy quite like Kazu. His upbeat, welcoming, sociable personality was infectious, and he never failed to make you smile, even on the darkest of days. It was highly appropriate that the seasonal theatre troupe he belonged to was “summer” because to you, Kazunari was sunshine.

·        “Not as cute as you, babe.” Head still inclined, he glanced up at you with bedroom eyes and a grin. Kazu was even more uppity than usual, if possible. Despite some physical fatigue, he was running off an actor’s high. With you in his presence to top it off, looking so very yum, his whole body was buzzing so much he thought he might burst. Likewise, you were exhilarated seeing the love of your life up on stage, receiving the spotlight and praise you always felt he deserved, shining resplendently like the beacon of light that he was.

·        Removing your hand from his head, he returned upright, eyes never leaving yours which further provokes the unspoken spark now kindling between you.

·        “Want to see my tail? How freakin’ cool is this?” Kazunari throws out a shoulder and wiggles his butt a little more provocatively than necessary, the tip of his tail swishing violently side to side.

·        You swiftly offer the playful butt tap that you assume he was aiming for, praying the fabric abuse would go unnoticed by a certain salty costume designer.

·        “So awesome, I don’t know how Yuki does it,” you said louder than necessary, for good measure.

·        “Yeah, dude, this costume is lit.” Gleeful from the attention his feline adornments were receiving, he surveyed his clothing with renewed appreciation for the garments he wore. Not to mention looking for other accessories that might gain him more touches from you.

·        “Sick palette, too” you contributed with a grin, knowing that your artist boyfriend would hugely appreciate your comment on the color scheme.

·        You can see a glint in his emerald eyes as he registers your comment. “Right!?”

·        You had always praised his artwork with genuine adoration, and he enjoyed talking to you about color theory and his favorite artists. He simply appreciated the fact that you listened to him; to hear you reference something you had learned from your exchanges made this already very smitten boy simply ravenous for you.

·        “Got this dagger, too,” he adds with a devious tilt of his lip, shifting closer to you and pressing the hip that dons the blade against your lower belly.

·        “Yeah, yeah, keep that bad boy sheathed for now,” you jest, pushing him apart from you playfully, though his flirtation has catalyzed the heat pulsing through your veins.

·        “So later then?” he was drawn back to you like a magnet, wrapping an arm around your middle and nuzzling into your hair. Much like a cat, you thought to yourself with waxing desire. “Let’s go to your place.”

·        “Am I pulling you away from your troupe?” You leaned back just enough to meet his eye, your own arm claiming a spot in the middle of his back. “I don’t want to steal you from your friends…” 

·         You always tried to be respectful of his affable nature and took no issue with his lively social circle. Ever since you had been together, you found yourself chatting with an incredible variety of strangers with whom you would never have had the courage to initiate conversation. He thrived off the energy of others, and he deserved to celebrate this accomplishment with his theater fam.

·        Kazunari dismissed this with a casual wave of his hand. “Nah, no partying tonight. We’re all exhausted, everyone is going back to the dorms to sleep.”

·        “Then you should be going to bed, too! I don’t want you to get sick.”

·        “I am going to bed, babe…” Kazunari reasoned.  “I’m just taking you with me,” he added, coaxing you to the exit and finishing the proposition with a rare sexy wink designed solely for you.