#this is ridiculous because the shuffle always showed the same ones

[freakassfemme]

beloved butch abby and her soft femme

a/n: yeah, this is a self indulgent as fuck drabble <3 this is heavily inspired by my own relationship so sorry if it gets too niche </3 my fiancé and I just have a running joke about how much they are like abby so it kinda veered off that way. I still think its rly cute regardless

how you meet! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who manages a nice cafe a few streets off of downtown in a big city somewhere on a northern coast. she's stumbling in the front door, grumbling about how the delivery trucks always drop packages out front instead of the back when she sees you.

sure, she's used to tourists, but it's fucking february. hardly anyone is traveling, let alone for anything beyond the major sights, and you're sitting in a booth, sipping on a hot latte with lipstick stains on the mug and clasping your hands like a princess as you look over your scrapbooking supplies. yeah, you're a local.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who doesn't even bother trying to get your number at first. she's too busy with the cafe, with lev, with crippling debt from her attempt at medical school before her dad passed -- at least, that's what she tells herself and her coworkers who catch her ogling you when you show up more and more.

she notices some pins on your tote bag when you come up one day, listening to you chat to the barista and waving them off each time they ask her a ridiculous question like what syrups do we have, playing stupid so she is forced to interact with you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who just can't resist you when you start showing up more and more, so she goes home and listens to chappell fucking roan because she sees a pin on your bag. she hates it, but one day, after a month or so, she adds it to the morning Spotify shuffle, and just turns and smiles and says "me too" when she hears you telling the barista how much you love my kink is karma.

"oh my gosh, really?!"

yeah, everyone knows that's bullshit.

dating! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who surprises you with full on fucking roses every date night, which are often on Wednesdays, because she loves taking you to karaoke nights. no, she doesn't sing, but she'll hold up your mirror for you to check your makeup before you run on stage, singing something adorable like from the start by Laufey.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is always so delighted when you swing by midday, dropping off a handmade lunch in a cute little metal bento box, even if she's covered in flour. she'll bring you to her office, give you a little somethinggggg sweet to hold you over, make you a coffee and send you on your way.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is so scared to have you meet lev, her fingers are physically shaking when you two are in the same room together for the first time. lev is a little suspicious of you at first, but quickly becomes well-adjusted when you start sending baked goods home with abby for him as well.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who comes over to your apartment in a black tank top and sweats, hair messy whenever (yep! you guessed it!) the sink is clogged, because city plumbing is terrible and she's fixed them enough times at work to be able to save you from a regular bill each month. plus, the way you thank her is always payment enough

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who nearly fucking cries when you make her a homemade Christmas stocking. lev doesn't celebrate, and without her dad, she hasn't found a reason to do anything like that just for herself. so on Christmas morning, when she carefully shakes out a set of matching heart-shaped carabiners, yeah, she does cry a little bit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who shyly comes out of the bathroom one day holding some chest tape, asking if you’ll help her put it on because “for some reason the right side is halfway on but I put it on backwards on accident so I can’t get the plastic off so—“ (obviously you help her)

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who offers to buy you tennis skirts, athleisure dresses, fucking lululemon or whatever it is that will get you to come to the gym with her, even just to sit on her lap when she does hip thrusts. she loves sending you mirror pics after leg day, and yeah, you of course die every time.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who weaves through crowded downtown like it's nothing with you on her arm and two tote bags of your mail hanging from her arms when you finally get around to sending it out. she insists that she doesn't mind the little canvas bags with their floral prints.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who wears her beat up brown leather jacket like she's trying to run through the fabric. Lets you help her condition the material and put on patches, and even goes so far as to wrap you up a matching red one for your birthday that year.

as for her other clothes, she's constantly wearing little holes in the elbows and knees that you're more than happy to stitch up for her, and she swears her heart flutters every time she catches a glimpse of the woven embroidery thread in a green tee shirt or wool sweater.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who goes feral for the type o negative/out of the fire TikTok trend. she doesn't have her own account, but when you show her the videos of girls in their dainty Mary Janes stepping on to leather or work boots, she agrees without batting an eye, much to your surprise.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who slips a tag with your name on to it next to her other dog tags, keeping it like a secret special token on her necklace.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you do her hair sometimes, even though she's perfectly fine at it herself. she just adores those sweet late nights in her bedroom where you're rubbing some warm-smelling lotion into her back and weaving her hair back into place.

nsfw! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is a god damn sucker for praise and worship, both ways. she feels like you two are the only people in the world when she's on her knees, hands inching under your skirt and up your thighs while you purr sweet things in her ear, and she's telling you all the things she wants to do to you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who definitely talks you through it, and is constantly astonished by just how into her you are.

"oh, fuck baby -- you're dirty, jesus,"

"she's so needy for me, huh? you gonna let me take care of her, baby?"

"mmpf, thank you, thank you--"

"fuck, i know baby, i know. you can, i know you can. you're taking it so well, let me do it f'you. shit"

-`♡´- beloved butch abby whose hand nearly rips the mattress open the first time you're sat in front of her, leaving little lipstick marks on her strap as you work your mouth around it, making a slobbery and moaning debauched version of your pretty self for her.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you slip a finger between her legs while you suck her strap, lets you push it inside while your mouth pushes the base of her strap against her clit until she's shaking and stuttering and practically face-fucking you.

yeah, she stays strapped up on dates, too.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who has a mean 3 finger combo that she'll pull out absolutely anywhere - in the back of her truck, on the kitchen counter, in the bar bathroom, wherever she sees fit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who takes mirror selfies while you're riding her, or just in her lap, sucking on her neck or looking shyly back at the mirror. puts her huge ass hand on your ass, squeezing it and saves the photos for her own personal spank bank. the arch of your back drives her crazy.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who melts so easily under your prettily-painted nails, dragging down her abs while you murmur how handsome she is right into her pussy. her legs twitch, and god, she's trying so hard not to fucking crush you (not that you'd mind), but she about loses it when you ask her to sit on your face.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who hoists you on to her shoulders against the inside walls of her office, the door locked shut and your hand clamped over your mouth during her lunch break. covers up any stains on her shirt with her apron, acting like she needs to work up another batch of something while you're prancing out breathless and pink in the cheeks.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you play Jesse Jo Stark when you fuck in the backseat of her truck, hands intertwined and leaving palm prints on the steamy windows while you eat each other out in parking lots, murmuring I love you's while the truck rocks back and forth.

[beenbaanbuun]

non sexual dominance w/hongjoong

hongjoong is a natural leader

i mean look at him, i literally couldn’t say a more obvious thing if i tried

everything he does, he shows this natural power he has, and it just makes him so easy to follow

even if he’s being a little more on the controlling side, no one really blinks an eye at it because it’s hongjoong! it’s just comes so naturally to him

and obviously that bleeds into your relationship

it’s gentle and soft, and half the time he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but you do

and that’s not a bad thing… at all

“you’re sat too far away,” he says to you one evening when you’re out together at a random gathering, “come closer.”

all your other friends are preoccupied by their own conversations so you don’t mind putting your full attention on your boyfriend

“i’m on a seperate chair, joong,” you roll your eyes, “obviously i’m not going to be pressed up to your side.”

he cocks a brow at your defiance before leaning a little closer to you

“i’m not asking you to be pressed to my side, i just want you to move your chair a little closer,” his voice was quiet and gentle, but there was still a commanding undertone to it

of course you scoffed at his ridiculous request, but it didn’t stop you from complying

you didn’t argue back, and just shuffled your chair a couple of inches closer to him

“good girl,” he smiles and kisses your cheek, finally having you close enough to do that

he holds your hand under the table for the rest of the night to make sure you don’t stray too far again

and then a couple of nights later you’re up late, sat at your desk with your head shoved into your laptop

hongjoong arrived at your place no more than half an hour ago - which is how you know its late - and is already tucked up in your bed

he watches you carefully as you sigh for the hundredth time

it’s clear to him that you’re stressed, as he just gets out of bed and walks over to you silently

“when was the last time you saved it?” he asks as though he’s just curious

perhaps he’s worried about you losing all the stuff you’d worked so hard on

“i’ll save it now,” you reply, and he watches as you click the little button at the top of the screen, “thanks for reminding me- hey!”

your eyes shoot up to his face as he shuts the lid of the laptop, unplugs it and picks it up

his expression is neutral as he stares down at your clearly upset one, but he makes no move to give you your laptop back

“bed,” he says, “i’m confiscating this until morning.”

“hongjoong, that’s not fair!��

he rolls his eyes

“i don’t care,” he turns and begins to walk back to his side of the bed, “you’re tired and stressed and i’m not going to sit and watch you work yourself up. get in bed, now.”

he places his laptop on his bedside table before crawling back into bed

there’s nothing to stop you taking it, but unless you want hongjoong up your ass about it for the next few days, you know not to

you don’t get up from your seat for just a few seconds, but it seems like it’s a few seconds too long for hongjoong

“if i have to come over there and carry you to bed, i won’t be happy,” he warns

and although you know he’s not being completely serious about the carrying thing, he is about being unhappy

he likes you to take good care of yourself so of course he gets a little annoyed when you don’t listen to him telling you to

so you get up and shuffle over to the bed where he’s waiting with open arms and a smile

“that wasn’t too hard was it?” you shake your head, “good, now come cuddle…”

but it isn’t just a one time thing, and hongjoong isn’t always at your apartment to tell you to look after yourself

more often than not, you end up staying up later than you should, and by the time the project is over, you’re worn down and tired

and hongjoong can see that

obviously he isn’t happy in the way you’re treating yourself (you always remind him that he’s the same way, but he always refuses to acknowledge that fact) so he takes it upon himself to monitor your recuperation

brings you food every day and either watches you eat it, or insists on feeding you himself

you complain about the latter, reminding that you’re perfectly capable of putting food in your own mouth

he just rolls his eyes and asks you to ‘let him do this’

you realise after some time that half of the reason he’s doing this is because of guilt that he wasn’t there more often to stop you overworking yourself

you have to remind him that he has a life outside of you and he can’t always be there to take care of you

“what if i just moved in?” he asks as he spoons some soup into your mouth, “that way i could monitor you…”

you swallow the soup quickly just so you can tut at him

“first of all, i don’t need monitoring,” he makes a sound to let you know he disagrees, “and secondly, you seriously want to leave jongho and wooyoung alone together?“

hongjoong agrees that would be a bad idea since both of the boys like to push the other’s buttons

“well, what if you move into the dorms?” he suggests after a moment of silence

“you don’t need to monitor me!”

he relents after a quick back and forth, finally agreeing that sure, maybe you are capable of taking care of yourself without him to help

the thought makes him a little sadder than it should, though

because he likes taking care of you…

feeding you, washing your hair in the bath, keeping a hand on you whenever you’re out together

and maybe you moving in together is less him monitoring you, and more him just being able to care for you in the way that he wants to

to be able to lead you to make the best decisions for yourself, even if he isn’t too good at doing that for himself

but although it made him said, he was fine conceding to your will this time

he likes having that dominance over you, but he’d never force you into something so big if you aren’t quite ready for it

for now he’s stick to showing up at your place unannounced and taking care of you from there

reminding you to eat when he knows you haven’t

pulling you around by your waist when he doesn’t want you too far from him

pinning you to the couch when he knows you’re too fidgety to relax properly

he’d have to happy with just that for the time being

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream's reaction to you ignoring them after an argument

word count: 1.4k 

warnings: slight angst but they mostly end with fluff heh, mentions of food, let me know if i missed out anything

notes: hii loveys! here’s a short post for the month of February <3 i know i said i’ll try to post monthly this year but i’ll be really busy from here on, mostly because of school but i will be working on a Jaemin AU really soon! that will probably be my next post, which i will try to get out by the end of April or early May! until then, please be well everyone, sending all my love <3

𔘓Mark:

He’s been trying to talk to you after the argument you two had last night, but he’s only been met with cold replies. You’ve also been keeping to yourself all day, clearly still dwelling over the argument last night. Mark hates this. He hates that you’re both not being able to be comfortable around each other. He wonders if you’re still mad at him, so he asks you the next time you walk out to the living room. “No…” you say quickly, before retreating back into your shared bedroom. Mark follows closely behind you, “Why have you been avoiding me, then? I thought we talked it out already, if you’re still upset just tell me.” “We did talk it out, and we’re past that argument. But I still need some time to myself… that’s all. I didn’t mean to avoid you intentionally, I’m sorry.” You tell him as you still can’t get over the emotions from last night. Mark comes to sit beside you on the bed, patting your head twice, “You should have just told me that, babe. I’ll give you as much space as you need, just know I’m still always going to be there for you.”

𔘓Renjun:

Renjun knows you’re doing this on purpose. He’s asked you the same question twice, and you are basically refusing to answer him out of spite. The argument is still fresh in both your minds and Renjun is trying to get over it by offering to go get take-out for you both. But since your petty ass is ignoring him on purpose, he wants to be petty right back. “I’m asking you one more time baby, do you want me to get you anything for dinner? I’m about to leave.” Silence. “Fine, I’m leaving.” Renjun storms out of your shared apartment, almost slamming the front door behind him. He doesn’t understand why you’re ignoring him after the two of you already talked it out. You always do this and he doesn’t get it. He’s frowning the whole way to the restaurant but when he leaves, he carries a plastic bag containing food for two.

𔘓Jeno:

“Baby… won’t you talk to me?” Jeno is not new to this treatment from you. Everytime the two of you argue, he’s met with the cold shoulder. It’s like he suddenly doesn’t exist, even if he’s standing right in front of you. You’re just avoidant, and you promise you’re trying to be more communicative but it’s still a work in progress. Jeno has an evident pout on his face, it genuinely makes him sad when you do this. He sighs at your silence, “Okay, I’ll leave you be… I’ll be in the room if you need anything okay? I love you.” Your heart flutters and you try not to show it, you hear Jeno shuffle into your room and the door closes behind him. You can’t ever stay mad at Jeno for long, and this sounds ridiculous but you miss him already. You’re still feeling a little upset and you don’t have anything to say but you just miss being close to him. So you drag your feet towards your shared bedroom, opening the door and walking to where Jeno is on his gaming chair, wordlessly. He quickly turns around, eyes wide and about to ask if you need anything. But before he gets to open his mouth, you crawl onto his lap and drape yourself over him. You can hear Jeno chuckle to himself and feel how quickly he wraps his arms around your torso. He knows well enough that this means you’re okay, maybe still a little bothered but you just want to be near him. And he allows it, so he only pulls you closer because Jeno would choose this over you ignoring him any day.

𔘓Haechan:

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” Haechan stands in front of you with his hands on his hips, blocking your view of the TV. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He says as he waves his hand frantically in front of your face. You only glare up at him and swat his arm away. “You’re so childish…” “You’re childish.” “Oh? So you respond now…” You just cross your arms and nudge Haechan aside with your feet. You honestly don’t even know what show is on right now, you just need the white noise to drain out your anger. “If you’re still upset about something, just tell me. How am I supposed to read your mind, baby?” “Okay, fine. I’m upset with you.” Haechan sits beside you now. “Okay, that’s obvious… May I know why?” “No.” “Baby.” “I’m not calm enough right now to tell you.” You let out a breath, it comes out like a huff. “Do you always look this cute when you’re angry?” You give Haechan the nastiest side-eye and he just giggles. “What? You’re just so cute.” He says as he reaches out to pinch your cheeks. “Stop it!” Haechan only laughs. “Sorry, sorry…” He replies trying to hide his chuckle behind his hand.

𔘓Jaemin:

This doesn’t happen often, at all. Jaemin and you have been rather calm every time you’re met with a disagreement. But this escalated really quickly and caught both of you off guard. You two ended up arguing over something so silly, saying unkind things in the heat of the moment, and worse still, in public. You got so emotional about it, so quickly. And you feel like you’re being dramatic when you begin to walk away from Jaemin to cool down. He’s calling out for you immediately. He catches up quickly, reaching down to try and hold your hand. But you wrestle to get your hand out of his grasp. “Honey, please… just listen.” But you cross your arms so Jaemin can’t get a hold of your hands and starts to walk more briskly. You don’t look at him, don’t say a word. You hang your head low, staring only at the ground as you keep walking wherever your legs take you. Jaemin isn’t beside you anymore but you can hear him trailing just behind you. He watches your small figure in front of him. He knows you just need time to calm down and he lets you be, staying close until you’re ready to face him again. After another 10 minutes of walking to god knows where, you stop in your tracks and Jaemin walks to stand in front of you. “Are you feeling a little better now?” You nod, now a little embarrassed at the act you pulled. “I’m sorry…” you mumble out and Jaemin only hugs you, “I’m sorry too.”

𔘓Chenle:

“Look at this, it’s so funny…” Chenle shoves his phone in front of you, laughing at the tiktok that’s playing. When you don’t respond, Chenle’s stops laughing and his attention shifts completely to you. You’ve been ignoring him for about 2 hours now, unbeknownst to him. “Hm? Is it not funny? You usually like this stuff.” Chenle mumbles to himself, pulling his phone back in front of him. He’s so oblivious sometimes you want to scream at him. A few minutes later, he’s cackling at his phone and shoving it in front of you again. But this time you nudge his arm away, and Chenle slowly stops laughing. “What’s wrong with you?” And instead of replying to him, you turn, facing away from him. “You’re ignoring me?? Fine, I can do it too!” Chenle says before he turns away from you, curling into himself on the sofa as he huffs.

𔘓Jisung:

Jisung is honestly freaking out. You’re not talking to him and he knows it’s because you’re still upset. It’s a mess in his mind, do you hate him now? Are you going to break up with him? He has no idea what to do. “B-baby, I’m really sorry…” He tells you again as he pokes your shoulder to try and get your attention. Honestly, you’re not that upset anymore, it’s just that the argument just ended. It’s awkward to just pretend like nothing happened and go back to normal, just like that. “It’s okay…” And you don’t say anything else other than that. The silence is deafening, it’s literally eating away at the both of you. You hear Jisung gulp before he speaks again, “You’re not going to break up with me, are you?” You frown. “Why would I do that?” “You haven’t said anything… It's worrying me.” You shake your head, a small smile forming subconsciously. “I just need some time to get over it completely, I won’t break up with you over something like that, silly.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 124

Part 1 Part 123

“Should I get a job?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t want a job, is the thing, but there’s a large expanse of nothingness stretching out in front of him that needs filled. And his wallet’s been looking thin around the edges lately.

Steve hums. He’s fussing with his hair, even though the dorky little sailor hat’s going to undue all his efforts. The whole outfit’s a little dorky, honestly. Eddie loves it.

“Do you want a job?” Steve asks.

Eddie groans, sinking further into the bed. His sweatpants bunch uncomfortably around his ankles, so he kicks out his legs trying to get them to roll back down with friction from the sheets. “No,” he replies, unsurprised when it comes out whiney, like he’s a petulant child denied a sweet in the candy aisle. He feels like a petulant child, not ready to grow up and leave Neverland.

Leaning into the tantrum, Eddie pouts his lip out and looks up at Steve through his lashes. Apparently giving it up as a bad job, Steve drops his hands from his hair to shuffle over to the foot of the bed. He pulls the hems of Eddie’s pants down, fingers lingering against his ankles before dropping them.

Like some sort of angel fallen from above, Steve kneels on the bed and crawls up it, perfect face getting closer, closer, closer. Eddie puckers his lips, anticipation crawling up his throat, but Steve bypasses his mouth entirely to plant one on his forehead.

“Then don’t get a job,” he says, lips caressing Eddie’s skin. He pulls back, smiling down at Eddie. “I can support the both of us.”

Eddie’s heart flutters. It’s embarrassing, really, how gone he is. He presses his hand to his forehead in the pose of feinting wives everywhere and replies, “you’re such a big strong man.”

Moment sufficiently over, Steve shoves his shoulders hard enough that Eddie bounces a little against the mattress and rolls back off the bed. He bends down to get to their sock drawer, and Eddie tilts his head to enjoy the show.

The socks Steve pulls out our ridiculously long and hideous enough to match his whole get-up. Even when working with the bottom of the barrel, Steve Harrington’s still always on theme.

“That can’t really be your uniform,” Eddie says, grinning as Steve pulls both socks fully on and turns around to glare down at Eddie’s supine form.

“Well, it is,” Steve says, crossing his arms, like that’ll cover up anything. But then his fingers stretch out over his ribs and clutch, and it all starts to look more like a hug.

“Hey,” Eddie says, finally shuffling up and out of the bed. He stands in front of Steve, pries his hands free, and clasps them both in his own. He squeezes both, then starts rubbing his thumb against each palm the way Steve likes, trying to get Steve to meet his eyes. When he finally does, Eddie asks, “you nervous?”

Steve’s eyes slip away, but he nods because they took a silent honesty pact way back when they’d been sucked into the Upside-Down that first night. “A little,” he says, mouth twisting in on itself as he thinks. “My coworker doesn’t seem to like me much.”

Eddie scoffs, ruffling Steve’s hair until a quick tussle breaks out as he tries to protect his precious hairdo. “Then she doesn’t know you,” Eddie says, holding Steve in an unwieldy headlock that doesn’t have enough stability to last. 

Steve twists and pulls free, immediately bowling Eddie over so he lands awkwardly on the bed. But he’s smiling now, victorious over his win, so it’s all worth it. Reaching with all his might, he boops Steve’s nose until it scrunches.

“You’ll do great.”

Like those are the magic words he was waiting for, Steve’s shoulders ease, and he gets through the rest of his morning routine with that same energy.

It stays with him until he’s walking through the front door, and Eddie calls, “should I start selling drugs again?”

Steve’s shoulders stiffen and he turns, already halfway outside to point at Eddie like he’s a misbehaving dog, saying, “no,” in the sternest voice he’s ever heard.

Eddie’s laughter rings through the trailer as Steve slams the front door, starts the van and drives off to his first day at his new job.

Eddie whiles away the morning, biting his nails because somehow Steve’s anxiety has transferred over to him. Even if it’s not a job, he’ll have to find something to do, lest he start to feel like a dog waiting for its master to come home.

When the lunch hour rolls around, he steals Wayne’s keys, leaves a note, and on a whim, calls up the Byers’ abode.

As a lucky turn of fate, Will’s the one that picks up with a quiet, “Byers’ residence.”

“Baby Byers!” Eddie cries, throwing Wayne’s keys up and down in the air. “Are you going to still be at home in say, ten minutes?”

Eddie fails to catch them on his third toss, and the clatter noisily to the linoleum of the kitchen floor. “Yeah, wh—”

“Great!” Eddie cuts in, bending down to pick up the keys from the ground. “See you then!”

He slams the phone down on Will’s stuttered protests and rushes out the door before Wayne can wake up and put a stop to his thievery.

He blasts music on the way to the Byers’ house, turning it down just a tick as he pulls into their driveway because while he may not care about the general denizens of Hawkins, he’s got a soft spot for the ones that live here. God forbid he wake Mama Byers up from an afternoon nap.

With that in mind, his knocks are rapid-fire, but not all that loud. They still summon Will to the door within five seconds flat. He’s dressed, but shoeless, and clearly grumpy with Eddie if the frown is anything to go by.

“Put your shoes on, baby Byers, we’ve got places to be.” Just to be annoying about it, Eddie pulls on the string connecting them repeatedly as Will bends down to slip on his shoes without untying them.

It’s not long before they’re shuffling out of the house and on the road.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” Will asks, turning the volume down even further, on Slayer, as if that’s not some sort of sin in and of itself.

Still, Eddie loves the kid, so he tells him, “Steve started his new job today, and we’re gonna go say hi!”

Eddie slides his eyes off the road to see how that one lands. Will’s looking at him with an unimpressed expression he had to have picked up from Steve. “Does he know that?”

Eddie laughs nervously and starts tapping his fingers against the steering wheel along with the barely-audible eat eeking out of Wayne’s dusty old speakers.

“Malls have food courts, right?” Eddie asks, blowing past Will’s question entirely. “Maybe we can all have lunch!”

Will scoffs, and that one he got from both of them. Eddie’s almost proud of how snotty it sounds. But Will settles down, ready to go along with Eddie’s hairbrained scheme.

The parking lot’s already filling up by the time they pull in because Hawkins is full of a bunch of townies with nothing better to do. He pulls in right alongside them, and skips inside, Will nipping more sedately at his heels.

The place is big enough that there’s a map, smack dab at the entryway. Eddie brushes past the people loitering in front of it so he and Will can squint at it, trailing fingers and eyes until they find it, a bit of blue writing delineating an even tinier dot as an ice cream parlor. Of course, because this is Hawkins and nothing ever goes Eddie’s way, it’s on the entirely opposite side of the mall than the one he parked at. Will and Eddie spend countless minutes of their lives pushing through gawking crowds and unattended children until they finally reach their destination.

The sign out front is a tacky font on top of an even tackier turquoise, a shittily drawn anchor tying the whole thing together. The checkered tiles, and white tables damn near glisten in the fluorescent lights. Eddie barely notices any of it, because there’s two sailors arguing at the cash register. Eddie’s sailor’s got his hands on his hips and he’s pouting as Buckley of all people gestures wildly beneath the counter and reads him to rights.

Eddie stops on the threshold and watches, helplessly endeared as Steve brings out the king for a little jaunt, visible in the roll of his eyes and the tilt of his chin. But whatever he retorts must be all his Angel because Buckley belts out a laugh and then slaps both her hands over her mouth like she can shove the sound back into her throat and keep on glaring. Steve grins his private little grin and clenches his fist. Eddie can feel the effort he’s putting in to resisting the fist bump that’s carried over from all his jock tendencies.

And here, in fucking Scoops Ahoy of all places, Eddie feels himself getting choked up for all the world to see. Because all it took was one look at Steve Harrington’s smug face under that dorky little hat for his ennui to dry up: a sun to all his rain clouds.

It’s not nothingness in front of him, it’s Steve, and Will, and Uncle Wayne, and the rest of this fucked up family he’s stumbled into. It’s time to spend with the people he loves, and time to figure himself out.

And if the Upside-Down creeps its way back into their lives? All three of them will still be here, ready to plant their feet and stand firm against whatever new horror show pops up in their little cursed town. There’s not a Demo-anything that they can’t take.

And that’s a little too much for a random afternoon on a Monday so Steve tugs on the ties that bind until Steve turns, already beaming like it doesn’t matter anymore that Buckley’s back to scowling at him, arms crossed, and nose upturned like he’s a bug beneath her shoe. Steve tugs back, and they bring Will into the loop, too, feeding off each other’s presences, like always.

They’ll fight if they have to, like this; stronger together than apart, but they’ll live too.

Steve bounds around the counter, ripping off his hat like he was just waiting for an excuse, calling a quick, “I’m taking my lunch!” and not even slowing down at Buckley’s garbled complaints.

He runs clammy hands across Eddie’s arm, then Will’s, smiling like he hadn’t seen either of them in years, instead of a matter of hours. Customer service must be hell.

“How’re those corporate shackles treating you, angel?” Eddie says under his breath, dimples popping as Steve huffs. “Wanna use some of that hard earned cash to buy little old me some lunch?”

“You know I haven’t gotten paid yet, right?” Steve asks, but when Eddie bats his eyelashes, he rolls his eyes, and pushes past both of them. “Come on, Will, I saw a burger place on my way in.”

Will takes up his rightful place at Steve’s side, laughing as Eddie scrambles to catch up. “Me too, right Stevie?” he asks. “It was my idea, and I skipped lunch.”

Eddie pushes himself between them, latching onto both their elbows so he’s not left behind.

Buckley’s still yelling something, but they’re too far away to hear her now, and besides, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

They walk off into a brighter future, or at least toward a cheeseburger of some sort, and aren’t those just about the same thing?

THE END (unless my beta has other ideas)

We've got some editing to do for the ao3 publication, but this is it for Tumblr!!! I've got a few half-written ideas for on-shots off this same universe from other characters POVs that I'll probably post in the future, but this is the entirety of the fic! If any of you got this far reading this long of a fanfiction on Tumblr, I want to study you like a bug...how did you manage it?? If you've commented or added tags even once, I appreciate you. And, to the few who've been doing it fairly regularly throughout the process? This only exists because of you, and I mean that. I'm going to make another post about the UD AU once It's entirely edited and all posted on ao3, but otherwise, that's all folks! Wild that this all started from a little idea that was supposed to be a one shot <3 Also, because I think it's funny, this was the entirety of the outline I wrote for this part: "Eddie POV- IDK! Something something, Steve gets a job at scoops, Eddie thinks the shorts are so hot. He and Will go to visit him and Robin’s there and seems to hate Steve. The summer is theirs." Wow, thank you past Koko, that's so enlightening.

[stellarspecter]

Who Is That Brand New Babygirl?

@stevieweek Day 1: Stobin | Day 2: Gender Euphoria | Dice Roll: 7. Lingerie

(since there were 10 extra prompts provided, i decided to roll a d10 each day for an extra prompt along with the daily theme! and i combined day 1 and day 2 because i didn't get anything out yesterday and it fit my idea anyway lol) (also divider by @/thecutestgrotto)

read on AO3

“How about this one?”

Stevie took the lacy scrap of fabric that Robin had shoved in her face. “I like the color.” The panties were blush pink, with a wide band of lace at the top. 

“There’s a matching bralette, too.” Robin pointed across the aisle to a rack of bralettes, some of them the same color as the panties she held in her hand.

Stevie flushed. “I don’t know…” Wearing panties was one thing, but a bra? “I don’t even have any growth yet.” She gestured aimlessly to her chest, where the hormones she had only just started taking still had yet to work their magic.

“That’s why it’s a bralette, not a bra. No cups,” Robin explained. “Think of it like a training bra. My mom made me start wearing them in middle school and it was kind of weird, but it does make you more used to wearing one. And feel more grown up, which I guess you don’t really need help with because you’re already an adult, but you know. More like a woman.” She stopped talking with that look on her face that meant she was trying to hold in a patented Robin Ramble™. 

“I thought you hated bras,” Stevie pointed out. Robin always made a point of complaining about her bra digging into her ribs, and at this point Stevie thought there might be more of them scattered around her house than in Robin’s, since she always hurried to take them off when she walked in the door.

“I do, but that’s because of the underwire. These ones don’t have that, see?” Robin showed her the simple elastic band at the base of the cups. “Bralettes like this are usually pretty comfortable unless the lace is too scratchy or something.”

Stevie hummed in acknowledgement and ran her fingers across the pink lace. It was soft to the touch, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it might feel like sliding across her skin, under her shirt, a secret from the rest of the world.

She really wanted it.

But what if it wasn’t right? What if she put it on and looked in the mirror and all there was staring back at her was a man playing dress-up, brutish and muscled and ridiculous? She didn’t think she could take the disappointment.

“I…” Her hand hovered over the rack, that fear holding her back. 

“Here, we’ll get a few sizes,” Robin said, businesslike as she combed through them and plucked a few out. “You can try them on in the dressing room and see which one you like best, okay?”

“In the dressing room? But won’t someone — I mean, they’ll see that I have —” She stumbled over her words and just waved her hands at the pile of lace in Robin's hands. 

Robin considered it for a moment, and then shrugged. “We can say it’s mine and you’re just helping me. Come on.”

With that, she led them to the back of the store, where a bored employee pointed them towards an empty fitting room all the way in the back, much to Stevie’s relief. They shuffled into the little cubicle together, the closeness not even close to a problem for them.

Stevie fingered the edge of her shirt nervously. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean what if —” She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “— what if it doesn’t fit?” She finished lamely.

“Then we go back out and get another size,” Robin answered. She seemed to understand the unspoken fear beneath her words, and took Stevie’s hand. “I’ll bring the whole lingerie section in here one by one if I need to, okay? We’re not leaving until we find something you feel good in.”

Stevie let out a shaky breath and squeezed Robin’s hand. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.” With a burst of confidence, she whipped off her shirt and threw it down on the little bend built into the wall. Robin cheered like she was at a sold-out show, not in the back hallway of a department store where other people could definitely hear them. It made Stevie laugh, though, which was almost certainly the point, based on Robin’s satisfied smile.

She pulled a bralette off of its hanger and stared at it for a moment. Would the thing even fit over her head? Were her shoulders too broad? It didn’t have a clasp, so she had to try. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and put it on.

“Let me help you with the straps,” Robin murmured, soft hands fiddling with the fabric stretched across her back. After a moment, she smoothed her hands across it and stepped away. “Perfect.”

Stevie’s eyes watered under her closed lids. “Perfect?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Robin whispered, gentle in a way that most people who knew her probably didn’t think she was capable of. But Stevie knew her down to her bones, and she got this side of Robin that barely anyone else got to see — the caretaking, loving, protective side of her that knew the nuance of a gentle touch. “Perfect. You wanna take a look?”

Stevie nodded, heart pounding in her chest, Robin’s hands on her shoulders, steering her towards the mirror. She felt paralyzed with the weight of the moment, this one thing that could make or break her whole transition. What if it didn’t fit her? What if she didn’t fit it?

But Robin had said she looked perfect.

Stevie opened her eyes.

In the mirror in front of her stood a woman. Brown hair just brushing her shoulders, moles dotting her tanned skin, blue jeans starting just under her belly button. The blush pink bralette cupped her breasts — her pecs — her boobs in a gentle curve. The wide lace band at the bottom secured it all, and the thin straps drew attention to her shoulders, yes, but also to her delicate collarbones and throat framed between them. The woman in the mirror reached a shaking hand up to feel, and at the first touch of lace to her fingertips, Stevie couldn’t help but sob.

“Oh, Stevie,” Robin said, bundling her in her arms immediately. “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you want to find a different one? Just tell me what you want, I’ll go find something for you, okay?”

“No, it’s — it’s perfect,” Stevie sobbed, tear tracks rolling picturesque down her cheeks. She hoped they wouldn’t drip on the fabric. “I just — I look like a woman.” 

“Oh,” Robin breathed. She smiled softly over Stevie’s shoulder in the mirror. “So you’re finally seeing how the rest of us see you, huh?”

That made her start crying all over again, her smile staying fixed on her face. “I — Really? You’re not just saying that or buttering me up, you really — you really see me like this?”

“Really really,” Robin confirmed somberly. “I mean, I don’t know why you said you didn’t have boobies. Have you seen these?” She brought her hands up to Stevie’s chest, stopping just below the end of the bralette to frame them. 

Stevie huffed out a wet laugh. “I guess they do fill it out pretty nicely.”

“You guess?” Robin said incredulously. “We gotta find some measuring tape so we can figure out your actual cup size. I bet you’re a B cup already, at least. It’ll be crazy to see how they look in a year.”

“Oh yeah,” Stevie said faintly. “I’m — going to get bigger.” She stared at herself in the mirror intently, analyzing where she might change. “Should we even be shopping this early? I’ll probably grow out of it in a few months.”

Robin shrugged. “It’s a rite of passage, Stevie. Every girl has their first bra. Their first training bra. Then their first real bra. Then they realize bras suck and stop wearing them. Then they realize they’ve been showing full nipple in public on accident for the last week and regrettably, go back to it.”

“That last part might just be you,” Stevie teased.

“So what if it is, it could happen to anybody!” Robin said indignantly. “But seriously, it’s normal to have to go bra shopping a lot while you’re still growing them. I’ll keep going with you, if you’d like.”

Stevie smiled at her in the mirror and caught her hand. “I would like.”

Robin met her eyes through the glass, warmth pouring out. “Awesome.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s have you try on the other sizes, just in case, and then maybe we can go find a couple more colors? I think they had some more in this style.”

“Okay,” Stevie agreed. “Thanks for doing this with me. And for being such a good friend.” She took the bralette off and turned around to hand it back to Robin, only to be met with her suspiciously shiny eyes.

“Of course, Stevie,” Robin told her. “Anything for my girl.”

[daechwitatamic]

4. Perilune || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 4: Perilune

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, confessions, drinking, angst, facetime sex lol bye, vibrator use (f), dirty talk, kissing, lightly dom!jin, fingering, reader takes it from behind, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), sweet aftercare

WC: 9k

Part 4: Perilune

Perilune: (noun)  the point of an elliptical lunar orbit where the satellite and the Moon are the closest

“What… is going on here?” Minji asks, eyes wide, voice trembling. 

Seokjin, secret genius, reaches out an arm to welcome her into the hug. “Y/N is upset,” he says easily, like this is a perfectly natural thing. “Come help.”

Minji’s eyes narrow, but she shuffles into the hug, wrapping one arm around each of you. “But,” she ventures after a minute, “why are you upset?”

You shake yourself free of the hug, wipe at your face roughly with both hands. You consider your options. You consider that Seokjin is willing to forgo the easy option, to wrestle with a tough reality for you. 

You owe him the same. 

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when he flies home again,” you say, as honest as you can be. “And I’m scared I’ll lose him again. And I hate that it isn’t easier.”

Minji looks back and forth between you silently. “Are you….?” she manages, and the question is pointed more at Seokjin than you, so he answers.

“We’re together,” he says simply. 

The shock flies to her face almost instantly, but all you feel is resignation. You’re already emotionally spent today; this might as well happen. 

“For how long?” she demands. “When did this start?”

You look at him. “Technically, like four days ago,” you answer, deciding to omit the New Year’s Eve debacle. For now. 

Her eyes narrow again. “You didn’t tell me.” The accusation falls at your feet, but you’re glad to accept it. 

“We were…” You trail off, meeting Seokjin’s eyes over her head. “We were trying to feel it out before we told anybody.”

“Hmph,” Minji sniffs, arms crossed, frown pronounced. “I’m not anybody. I’m your best friend.”

“I know,” you whisper. “But it felt… complicated. Considering. You don’t… hate this? Would you… are you okay with this?”

Minji huffs out a laugh, the same way Seokjin does when he thinks you’ve said something ridiculous. “Please,” she says, reaching back to elbow her brother in the ribs. “You two have been stupid for each other since we were teenagers. It’s honestly about time.”

It feels too good to be true. Seokjin smiles, grabbing her arm and wiggling it around affectionately. “Look how mature you are,” he coos. “Look at my mature, smart, lovely, wonderful sister.”

“Get off me,” she snaps, but there’s no bite behind it. “God, you two loons.” 

Later, when you’re back home, alone, trying to process everything that had happened, your phone lights up.

[11:57 PM] Minji 💗: OH MY GOD [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: THIS MEANS [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: YOU GOT THE GOOD DICK GLOW [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: FROM MY BROTHER???????///??????????? [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: I WILL THROW UP I WILL THROW UP RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:03 AM] Jin 😎: well now that the cat’s out of the bag… can i take you on a date before i go?

–

You tell Jin yes, but the next night isn’t spent with him. Instead, you show up after dinner to Minji’s apartment holding a fresh stalk of celery with a cheery bow slapped on the packaging. It’s stupid - ridiculous, really - but it’s a you and Minji thing dating all the way back to middle school and you think she’ll laugh.

You’re right; as soon as she processes the nonsense she’s looking at, she bursts into laughter. 

“Damn,” she cackles, backing up to let you into the apartment. “You must be feeling guilty. You bypassed show up with beer and went straight to celery!”

“Please accept this token of my deepest regrets and most sincere apologies,” you deadpan, pushing the stalks into her hands. Still laughing, she heads into her tiny kitchen to find a spot for them in the fridge. You perch on the arm of her couch, waiting for her to come talk to you.

She’s shaking her head at you when she returns, flopping on her couch and staring up at you. “You really didn’t need to,” she says, still smiling.

You twist your mouth at her. “I’ve known you for a long time,” you say gently. “I know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t tell you.”

She looks away and shrugs. For a second you think she’s going to lie, but then she juts out her jaw the way she does when she’s feeling defensive and she says, “I guess. I understood, though. I mean, I get why you didn’t.”

You run your toes along a pattern on her rug. “It’s weird because… I don’t know what’s okay to tell you?”

She cocks her head, not fully understanding. 

You try again. “I mean… I don’t want to not tell you stuff… but obviously there will be things that you don’t want to hear.”

“Ah,” she says, understanding, starting to nod. “Well… how about you give me some warning if anyone’s gonna get naked.”

“A safe word,” you suggest, only partly joking. 

“Pineapple,” she says sagely. “If there are naked parts, warn me with pineapple.” 

You laugh. “Okay,” you agree. “So should I? Tell you all of it?”

“Start at the beginning,” she directs. 

“The beginning.” You laugh again. The beginning was so long ago, before you even understood it. “Well, I think I’ve been in love with him since –”

“Since forever.”

“How come you knew, but he didn’t?” you ask, exasperated. Had everyone known but you and him? 

“Seokjin is an idiot,” she says simply, crossing her arms behind her head and getting comfortable. “Tell me the rest.”

You sink onto the couch opposite her, hugging your knees to your chest. “We had a lot of moments over the years,” you admit, “where I really… wondered. You know?”

“You were the only one wondering,” she says with a smile. “He’s always… made space for you, broke his own rules for you. Jungkook and I used to joke about it. He was always nicer to you than to us.”

You take this in, letting it soak into your heart like sunlight on your skin. You can feel the truth of it, can recognize that some part of you must have known this all along. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I guess it was like that, from the outside. I just… never knew what it meant. It was hard to see it clearly, from too close.”

Minji reaches over and squeezes your hand briefly, encouraging. “So, when did things start-start? Like really start?”

“Well,” you say tentatively, “two years ago, when you had that New Year’s Eve party? We, uh… shared a pineapple that night.”

Minji blinks at you, and you watch the moment it processes. Her eyes go wide, lips curling a bit in revulsion. “You what? How long ago? At my dad’s house?”

You cover your face with your hands, peeking at her between fingers. “Yeah.”

She exhales, nearly a whisper. “Two years ago?” she repeats, disbelieving. Now, a bit of hurt does creep into her voice as she adds, “That’s a long time to keep a secret.”

“I would have told you, I swear,” you hurry to say. “But he… kind of vanished the next day. Got on the plane and left and literally never talked to me about it again.”

“God, he’s an incurable fucking idiot,” Minji mutters, mostly to herself, it seems. 

“We worked it out,” you explain. “Recently. But yeah… I was embarrassed. And hurt, to be honest. I just didn’t want to have to admit any of it. I think saying it out loud to you - to anyone - would have killed me. I wanted to just… pretend it didn’t happen.”

She groans in mock agony, throwing her head back and flopping dramatically, like your own stupidity is causing her great pain. 

“I know,” you say, apologetic despite her dramatics. “The whole thing is ridiculous.”

“So?” she says, pulling herself together and scooting to sit back up. “What’s happening now? You’ve… had pineapples again, since he came home for Dad’s surgery?”

You feel your face burn like it’s caught fire before you can even answer and she starts shrieking and laughing, reaching to whack your legs with a throw pillow.

“Never mind!” she cries. “I got my answer, don’t tell me anything else! My actual question is - what happens next?”

You shrug, your stomach sinking. “I’m not sure,” you say. “He… told me he loves me?”

Minji squeals, the noise echoing to her lofted ceilings and back, her feet kicking.

“But,” you add, “he’s flying home in a few days…”

“What?” Minji squawks indignantly, sitting all the way up to face you. “So you’ll just let it die again? I physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually cannot watch you idiots drag this out for another two years.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a little laugh, even though you suddenly feel a bit like crying. “I obviously don’t want that either. He said we’ll talk about it when it’s time.”

She sighs heavily. “Don’t leave it up to him,” she instructs. “He’s so dumb, like my god is he dumb. I have faith in you. Handle it.”

“Okay, bossy,” you say, poking her leg with your foot. “I promise to do my best.”

She nods, satisfied. “You better,” she threatens, and then heads to the kitchen to munch on the celery you’d brought her.

–

Seokjin’s last day comes too quickly. You’ve been dreading it for days. You remember all the other times he’s left before - for college, then when he moved, and on New Year’s Day after sleeping with you for the first time. You had spent all of those days at your parents’ house, watching across the street as cars were loaded, or assessing the empty place in the driveway.

It makes it suck less that this time, you’re in your own apartment, and Seokjin is with you, telling you goodbye instead of vanishing in silence. 

“Don’t be so sad,” he tells you sweetly. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“No we won’t,” you grumble, pouting. 

Days ago, you’d curled into his side, clutching the fabric of his white t-shirt between desperate fingers. The cotton had felt like an anchor.

“Jin?” you’d asked, and he’d looked down at you from his phone, where a game waited for his input. 

“Hm?”

“It’s like… three days left.”

“Yeah,” he’d said slowly, like he wasn’t sure where you were going with this. But of course he did - what else could be weighing on your mind? Why else would you bring it up?

“We said we’d decide what to do when it was closer,” you reminded him. “It’s closer.”

“It is,” he agreed easily, turning his phone screen off and shifting to give you his full attention. “And?”

You couldn’t stand it, suddenly, his teasing.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, reproachfully. 

“What?” he asked innocently, bumping your nose with his. He was smiling, like he thought your distress was a little funny.

“Jin,” you whined. “I’m being serious! We need to talk about it!”

“So let’s talk about it!” he had laughed. Then, watching your face, he’d grown serious. He’d brushed his fingers along your jaw, pressed a kiss to the scrunch between your eyebrows. “I’m listening,” he promised.

“When you go home…” you’d said quietly, “I don’t want this to end. I know we said long distance is awful, but…” You trailed off. 

“But what’s the alternative?” he finished the thought for you. “I don’t want this to be over, either.”

“So,” you’d said slowly, hope daring to blossom behind your ribcage, “we’ll try?”

He had nodded seriously, eyes far away as he considered this option. “It won’t be fun, and it won’t be easy,” he’d warned. “But, yeah… I’d like to try. I don’t want to throw this away again.”

As he double-checks his luggage in the doorway of your apartment, he sends you a rueful smile and says your name disarmingly.

“What?” you grumble.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he repeats indulgently. 

“Soon,” you scoff. “Like, what? Christmas?”

He comes to you then, wrapping his arms around your angry shoulders. “Listen,” he says, his dulcet voice soothing you, “My goal is to find a way to be with you. I’m going to go back and do whatever I can to make that happen. Okay?”

“A man with a plan,” you murmur, softening with his reassurances. 

“A man who’s done losing time,” he says solemnly.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you where you have the chance to kiss him goodbye.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you with hope that he’ll return and help you build something better.

–

You and Jin talk on the phone every day that he’s gone. It sucks to be far apart, sure, but somehow this is still better than before - at least now you’re talking, a ton, giggling and flirting openly like you’ve never been able to before. 

At least now you can tell him you love him before hanging up, instead of pretending you don’t, instead of denying it, lying about it, trying to imagine a life where it isn’t your biggest truth. 

Almost a week passes before Jin tells you, ceremoniously, “I… have news.”

“Ooh,” you say. “I’m listening.”

He smiles at you lazily through the screen; you’re each in bed, chatting before saying goodnight. “Don’t get too excited,” he warns you. “It’s good news, but it’s not ideal news.”

“I will temper my expectations,” you promise. 

“I requested to transfer,” he tells you. “I put in the request the day I came back.”

You smile, feeling warm and grateful, feeling full of love and appreciation. “And?”

“It’s not perfect,” he warns you again. “I did get approved, but -“

You squeal. 

“But,” he continues over you, “they want me to work down a 90-day notice and help train someone to take my place here. And the transfer location isn’t in town, it’s in the city.”

You stay silent, thinking about this. 

“So,” you clarify slowly, “we have to wait three months, but then you’ll be here?”

“Not there-there,” he points out. “An hour away.”

“It’s better than now,” you point out. “Even if I only see you on weekends, it’s better than now.”

“It’ll be more than that,” he says. “That’s the absolute worst case scenario. Okay?”

“Okay,” you say, minimizing the call to pull up your calendar. “Ninety days starting… today?” 

“Tomorrow is day one,” he tells you warmly. You click the date on your calendar - a Thursday in early September - and mark it Jin transfers. 

“Can’t wait,” you say, opening the call again. “When are we gonna apartment hunt?”

He laughs. “I’ve already got Minji on it.”

You lay awake long after you hang up, daydreaming of ninety days from now, when Seokjin will be just an hour away, close enough to drive to, close enough to touch. 

— 

“How was your day, beautiful?” Jin greets you before the connection loads his video, his voice finding you before his face does. It’s been about a month and a half of the long-distance thing, and your video call routine is solid.

You roll on your side, holding your phone so Jin can see your sad little face and a good helping of cleavage from your pajama top. “I don’t know,” you pout. “Okay, I guess.”

“Aigoo,” he croons. “What’s wrong with my favorite girl today?”

You sigh heavily; you’ve dropped the act for the most part, and now you’re letting your actual frustration show. It’s about a month into your relationship, a month into making long distance work. 

“I dunno,” you admit. “I think I’m just having a day where I miss you.”

“I’m here,” he says seriously, bringing his phone closer to his face. Disgusting, that you can see him so clearly that you can make out the affection in his gaze, and yet he’s still hundreds of miles away. 

“I know,” you say. “But I guess I miss… the physical stuff.”

He grins wolfishly before you’re even done with the word “physical”, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

You laugh - you can’t help it. “I meant like… I could use a hug. But… yeah, that too, now that you mention it. A little stress relief would be nice.”

Jin shifts on your screen. “Hm,” he says tightly, voice suddenly different enough that it brings your attention to him sharply. “Well, how would you have handled that - before me?”

You feel yourself flush. “Jin,” you scold. “Don’t tease me.”

“As much as I do love to see you get flustered,” he admits, “I am very serious right now.”

How did you miss his expression darkening? Suddenly, his brows are starting to furrow, his eyes narrowed just slightly with intent focus. His voice touches on dangerous.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, words all mumbled through your embarrassment. 

“If you can’t tell me, maybe you should just show me,” he suggests, that edge to his voice singing like the freshly forged metal of a gleaming sword.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, still mostly mortified. Only a little turned on. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“My normal way, is, uh… with some battery-powered assistance.”

You can’t even look at him. 

“Why are you being shy about it?” he asks. “That’s hot. I wanna see - wanna see what you do. Wanna see you come undone.”

You almost gasp, and he makes the mistake of letting his breath out just a touch too loudly, shifting just a bit too suspiciously.

“Are you-?”

“Of fucking course I am,” he huffs, and now it’s obvious that he’s got his hand around his dick - the scrunch of his brows, his teeth on his bottom lip. “Come on, don’t let me party alone.”

“You’re such a dork.” Despite the insult, your thighs are rubbing together as if of their own volition, and you sneak your hand down to press against your core just once for relief. 

“You’d forget all about that if I had my hands on you instead,” he asserts, voice low. “I’d like to see you call me names when I’m up to my knuckles in your -”

“Jin!”

“Am I wrong?” he smirks. You can tell by the way the phone shakes just so that he’s still stroking himself, slowly. 

You have no answer to that. 

“Come on,” he urges. “Let me see. I’m so hard.”

Your breath whooshes from you as he admits this. You’d never done this before - with anyone, not on video. It feels scary, but definitely fun. And, of course, you trust Jin implicitly. You know this will stay between you two.

“Take your shirt off,” you murmur, and the speed at which he obeys would be comical if you weren’t wet to the point of discomfort. 

“You too,” he begs, voice going whiney for just a second. You hesitate, still a little shy, but finally you pull the material over your head, dropping it on the empty side of the bed for later. You roll sideways, placing your arm strategically to prop your tits up a bit. 

“Now bottoms,” he instructs, half breathless. You’re slow to comply, eyes taking in the skin he’s revealed on-screen - tanned shoulders, pecs, dusky nipples, his flat tummy. Eventually you tear your eyes away enough to shimmy out of your pajama bottoms and panties, looking back at him expectantly. 

Seokjin angles the camera down for a minute, displaying the way he’s got his fist around the base of his cock, holding it upright and proud for you. “See what you did?” he grunts, hand sliding up and squeezing the head before taking its place at the bottom again.

“You’ve got crimes to answer for, too,” you tease.

“Show me,” he says, the words tumbling from him. He shifts the camera back to focus on his face. “Please, baby, let me see you.”

It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to bend your leg and prop your phone up, reaching to keep one finger on the top to steady it. You try not to look at your own body on the screen, focusing instead on how Seokjin’s eyes go heavy-lidded as he takes you in, how his breath hitches when you slide your middle finger between your folds and swirl it around in the gathered slickness you find there.

He swears fiercely, and you almost laugh. It makes you warmer, wetter, knowing you can affect him like this. 

“Spread them,” he commands, and you feel yourself clench at the words. 

“Really?” you ask, though you know he means it. You just want to buy time, the feeling of being exposed new and a little frightening. 

“Wanna see,” he repeats, lips barely moving to form the words. 

Finally, you muster the courage and do as he asked with your thumb and forefinger, listening to the slick sound of his hand on his cock, the way his exhales carry the barest touch of a groan. 

“Happy?” you ask after a minute of his huffed breaths, bringing the phone back up towards your face and unbending your leg. 

“Won’t be happy until you come,” he mutters. “Show me what you do. Please?”

“Is that what you want?” you ask, feeling a little breathless. “Just do what I normally do and let you listen?”

“And watch,” he breathes. 

You roll to dig through your nightstand drawer, coming out with a low-key but trusty bullet. When you click it on, Seokjin’s eyes fly to yours through the screen. 

You follow his direction, tilting the camera so he can watch you slide it, on its lowest setting, over your entrance and up to your clit. You retrace this path three more times, slowly, lightly, your body warming up by degrees. When you finally settle it firmly over your clit and leave it, you can’t help the low, rolling moan you let out.

“That’s right,” Jin whispers. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Not as good as you would,” you admit with a little laugh. 

“Soon,” he promises. And then, “What would you want me to do?”

“God,” you utter, pressing the bullet tighter against your clit. “Anything - your fingers, your mouth - want you inside me.”

He can’t even answer you, eyes sliding closed for a second as he loses himself in your words, in the picture they play in his head, in the memories of you that they unravel. 

“I- I’m getting close,” you warn him, the pulsing starting in gentle, easy waves, a warning sign.

He answers with a groan, and you click the bullet to a higher setting, letting your head fall back and your eyes drift closed as you lose yourself in the vibrations. The call is filled with the sound of steady buzzing, the slick skin-on-skin sound of Seokjin’s hand, both of your gasped and haggard breathing, punctuated by low groans and the occasional whine.

You grit his name between your teeth when you teeter closer. 

“Let go,” he commands, his voice rumbling deeper than you’ve ever heard it. It’s a stark contrast to the higher-pitched whine he lets out when you do, a wordless wail sailing between your lips as your legs shake and your whole body tightens. He comes with a cry before you’ve even caught your breath, quiet and stillness finally settling over you both as you click off your bullet and toss it sideways on your bed to clean off later. 

He smiles beatifically, some of his hair stuck to his forehead. “That was fun,” he says, leaning to reach for something, you assume to clean himself off with. “You feel better?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly, legs still twitching a little. “But not as good as I could. Not as good as if you were here.”

“Soon,” he promises again, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. “I promise. I’ll be with you soon.”

–

[9:28 AM] You: good morningggg  [12:03 PM] You: wow, busy today huh? hope it’s a good busy and not a shitty busy 😘 [5:02 PM] You: heading home! call me if you get a second? [10:41 PM] You: ok well i’m going to bed… talk tmrw maybe. Goodnight.

You sleep fitfully, filled with unease and disappointment. Your phone’s vibrations wake you close to midnight. You answer it without checking the screen.

“Mm’lo?” you manage, eyes still closed. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” Seokjin blurts through the line. “I literally just got home.”

Your mind, still mostly asleep, is muddy. “Hmm,” you breathe, trying to process, trying to make coherent words. “It’s so late.”

“I know,” he says sorrowfully. “I was running in circles all day, I legitimately don’t think I’ve peed since morning.”

You let another breath that’s kind of like a sigh. “That’s not healthy,” you murmur.

He laughs a little. “Tell me about it. Anyway, I’m sorry I was MIA all day. I hope you didn’t worry.”

“I didn’t worry,” you tell him, starting to wake up a little. “I knew you were working. Missed you, though.”

“I missed you, too.”

“You were too busy to miss me.”

He laughs again. “Well, I miss you now.” Then, almost to himself, “The moon’s pretty tonight. Looks almost full.”

You shimmy to the edge of your bed, where you can peek through your sheer curtains. The moon is very full, visible just above rooftops across the street.

“I see it,” you tell him sleepily. It gives you a sense of peace that, although you’re far away, although you really failed as a couple at communication today, at least you can share this - the pure white moonlight, the darkened mares barely visible. 

You both go silent for a few minutes, and you keep your eyes on the moon. 

“Hey,” Seokjin says softly. “I know today sucked. It won’t always be like this, okay? One more month - not even a whole month - and we won’t ever have days like this again.”

“Yeah,” you say, a little unconvinced.

“We won’t,” he assures you. “I’ll make sure of it. You’ll be sick of me in no time.”

“Can’t wait,” you tell him with a yawn, finally scooting back into the warm spot you’d vacated, ready for sleep to find you again.

–

Seokjin’s new apartment - a fifty-three minute drive from your own, you timed it - is admittedly really nice. Nicer than your “swanky” one. 

“God, this kitchen,” you marvel after dropping a box of his cutting boards and mixing bowls onto the kitchen counter. “It’s almost enough to make me want to learn to cook more.”

He laughs. “I think I told the agent yes based on this room alone.”

Most of the big furniture pieces were brought up by the moving company Jin had hired, so you help him unload the rest of the boxes from his car and you both look around, trying to determine the best place to start. 

“I’m going to find my sheet sets and set up my bed,” he decides, eyes scanning the many boxes. “That way when we tire ourselves out, it’s ready to go. Can you… maybe find the bag with all my toiletries and get that stuff in the bathroom?”

“Aye-aye, captain!” you chirp, starting to wade into the sea of cardboard, but Seokjin tugs you back gently by your shirt’s hem.

“What?” you ask him, a little giggly. 

“What are you so happy about?” he teases, pulling you close and resting his mouth near your temple, not quite a kiss. 

You shrug, wrapping your arms around his middle and welcoming the hug. You never want to go three months without him ever again. 

“Just…” you say, trailing off to think. “Just happy that you’re here.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “This is better, right?”

“Couldn’t hug you before,” you agree.

His smile goes sideways. “Lots of things we couldn’t do before.”

You laugh, pushing him away playfully. “Can’t do that until you set the bed up!”

“That is simply untrue,” he points out, even as he heads towards a box clearly labeled linens/blankets/pillows. “You just lost creativity points.”

You roll your eyes, unable to do anything about the grin on your face, and get to work searching for his shampoo.

Later, after you finished the bathroom and started putting laundry away and after Jin spent a solid two hours hooking up all his consoles and messing with the wiring, you lay sideways across his newly made bed, feeling like the bones have melted out of your body.

“Unpacking is exhausting,” you complain. “I was going to drive home tonight so I could sleep later in the morning, but I don’t think I can.”

“Good,” Jin murmurs, sounding half-asleep himself. He rolls and throws an arm heavily over your middle, tugs you closer. “Stay here with me. Stay all night.”

I think… I could stay forever, you think.

–

[10:06 AM] You: morning 😘 today’s gonna be a really rough day at work for me so don’t worry if you dont hear from me until late, ok? [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: yeah i remembered. good luck, you’ve got this!  [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: I’ll see you tonight at my place right? [10:07 AM] You: yes - the only thing getting me through the dayyy

By the time you stagger to your car, it’s been dark for hours. Your feet are throbbing in pain, your back feels like you wrestled an elephant, and you’re so tired you almost consider a nap in the backseat.

And then you remember - you’re supposed to drive the hour to Jin’s place tonight. In the six months Jin has been in his new place, you’ve taken turns every few nights making the trek back and forth. Tonight is your turn.

Or, is supposed to be.

You two had only canceled once before, on a night when a terrible rainstorm swept through and made the roads unsafe. Apart from that, you’d always shown up - or he had. 

Guilt, and the desire to see Jin, wage war against your exhaustion until you’re nearly in tears over it. You just don’t know what to do - try and make the drive, or wave the white flag and just go home to a hot shower and, finally, some dinner. 

Eventually, you turn on the car and start towards home, calling Jin as you go.

“Well, look who it is,” he greets you warmly. 

You sniff in reply. “Jin? I don’t think I’m coming there tonight. I’m really sorry. I’m just - I’m so tired, I feel like it wouldn’t be safe - and I haven’t eaten anything since before work and -”

“Hey,” he interrupts you gently. “It’s fine. Do you want me to come there?”

You glance at the clock on the dashboard. “Honestly,” you say, mournful, “I don’t think it’s worth it. I won’t be awake, and even if I am, I won’t be fun.”

“I don’t care if you’re fun,” he says. You know he means it. But still.

“I”m just gonna go home, eat, shower, and pass out,” you say, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. 

You still cry, quietly, mostly out of frustration, the rest of the way home, even after you’ve hung up. Going home to him would have been exactly what you needed tonight, and it feels deeply unfair that you can’t have that. 

You eat first, scarfing down leftovers you pull from your fridge, not even bothering to put on a tv show for noise. You barely even sit down. A hot shower does wonders, and soon you’re collapsing into bed, hardly having the strength to roll over and reach for your charger’s cord. You text Jin another apology and a sweet goodnight, but you’re asleep before he can answer, lost to the dark.

You wake up confused, still engulfed in darkness. It feels like you’ve only been asleep for minutes. You become aware of a noise near the end of your bed and your adrenaline spikes. You sit up, reaching for your phone.

“Don’t mace me,” Jin laughs, coming around the side of the bed and moving the blankets so he can slide in next to you.

You’re frozen, uncomprehending. “Jin?”

“The one and only,” he quips, rolling to cling to your back. “Surprise.”

“I told you not to come!” you splutter.

“Should I leave?” he asks wryly, and you grab his wrist as if he might.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, heart rate starting to calm now that you’ve discovered there isn’t a murderer in your apartment. “God, your feet are like icicles.”

He hums a laugh into your hair, runs a hand down your arm. “Go back to sleep,” he tells you.

You try to listen, scrumping around until you’re comfy again, his body warm and solid behind yours. “Can’t believe you drove here in the middle of the night,” you say finally, a touch of disbelief in your voice. “You’re out of your mind.”

He pulls you tight and then releases you. “Just try and keep me away,” he dares the universe, voice low next to your ear. 

You slowly drift back towards sleep, breathing going even and deep. The last thing you remember before you go under is whispering, “Thank you.” To him. Maybe to the universe. 

–

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for the second time in less than a year,” Seokjin grumbles from his side of the couch that the two of you are trying - and currently, failing - to get up a stairwell. 

“Are you complaining?” you ask, a bit of challenge in your voice. “Are you complaining after your amazing girlfriend found the best apartment, perfectly situated halfway between our jobs, and secured it - all while you were locked into Overwatch? Are you complaining that the living an hour away problem is finally over after an entire year? No more stupid-early commutes, or only seeing each other long enough to sleep - you have complaints?”

“I am complaining,” he asserts, shifting the couch in his hands, “about the physical labor.”

When you get to a good stopping point, hours later, you lean heavily against the kitchen counter. “Should we peruse our new home’s take-out options?” you ask, starting to reach for your phone. 

Seokjin doesn’t answer, which causes you to look up and assess why not. When you meet his gaze, he’s got a look in his eyes that you’re starting to know well.

“Seriously?” you ask with a laugh. “You’re not too tired?”

“For you?” he scoffs, moving closer, predatory. “Never.”

“I’m all sweaty…”

“I deeply do not care.”

“I can do approximately zero percent of the work,” you warn him.

He towers over you, hands coming to grip the counter on either side of your body, caging you in. “Wasn’t planning on you doing any work at all,” he admits darkly, mouth close enough to your ear to tickle. “I’m suddenly remembering almost a year ago, when I promised to bend you over the kitchen table someday. And now, we have our own kitchen table, in our brand new place together.”

Your grin turns predatory in turn. “Alright, you convinced me.”

“Good,” he grunts, and grips your jaw gently enough that it doesn’t hurt, firmly enough that he can easily tilt you back to receive his biting, desperate kiss. 

You moan immediately, melting back against the counter, thrilled by his urgency. You peel off his shirt, letting it drop onto the hardwood beneath your feet, and yours follows soon after. You lift your arms obediently when Jin tugs at the band of your sports bra, rolling it up and sliding it over your arms. He encases you with his arms, kissing you deeply, and you slide your hands down his stomach as you slide your tongue over his. 

It isn’t long before he’s tugging your leggings and panties down in one hand, and you use your feet to free yourself the rest of the way. He’s rough today as he slides his digits between your legs, barely slicking them up before pushing two fingers as far into you as he can, twisting them before pulling them out again.

You breathe his name, clinging to him desperately, hips pushing back against him as he pumps his fingers in and out of you indelicately, causing the last syllable of his name to come out on a whine. You push absently at the waistband of his joggers, too weakly to actually get them anywhere. You make a noise of complaint, and he laughs lowly, punctuating the sound with a particularly vicious flick of the wrist, sending his fingers pistoning into your front wall.

“Jin,” you wail, assaulted by the sudden sensation. “Please, I -” 

“Awfully needy for someone who had to be convinced,” he smirks, and if you weren’t halfway to your first orgasm of the night you might have whacked him for it. 

But then his fingers are slipping out of you, and he’s pushing his joggers and boxers to the ground and pulling you towards the table, telling you quietly, “C’mere.”

When he said bend you over, he meant bend you over, apparently, because as soon as he has you close enough he’s spinning you to face the table, one palm firmly pushing between your shoulder blades until your front presses against the tabletop.

“This okay?” he murmurs behind you, the same hand that pushed you into place caressing a worshipful pattern back down your ribs, sliding over your ass and resting there, waiting.

“Very,” you groan, and shudder when he answers this by leaning his body over your back, his hands splayed on either side of your ribcage, holding him up.

“In that case,” he says, “arms up. Hold the other side.”

Your breath leaves you audibly and you obey, reaching to grip the opposite side of the table. He strokes the curve of your ass again, and then you feel him run the head of his cock up and down your slit - it sends a white-pleasure shock through you when it rubs firmly over your clit and you try to catch it on your entrance as he slides back up.

You whine again, and he chuckles before finally pushing into you.

You both groan as he bottoms out, yours turning to a gasp as he bumps something deep inside you that makes your entire abdomen flex in response. 

“Shit,” you gasp, “you’re so deep this way -”

“Fuck,” he growls, the word torn from his throat as he starts to move. “Why are you so tight, I’m gonna last two minutes like this, damn -”

“Because I’m about three seconds from coming,” you say - or you try to. It comes out more like a moan, your voice shaky and tremulous, betraying you completely. 

“Do it then,” he says, gripping your hips with one hand and reaching around to find your clit with another as he keeps a torturously steady pace. “Come all over me.”

His nimble fingers do the trick and it’s only seconds later that you’re following directions, pressing your forehead desperately into the wood of the table as your body trembles and shakes beneath Jin’s hands. 

You feel your toes curling against the hardwood floor, feel your fingers go tight against the table’s edge, feel your pussy clench around him again and again and again, feel the sensation of light race down your legs and out to your fingertips, feel Jin’s cock slide against your pulsing walls, feel his hands come to your hips to pull you against each stroke.

You hear your first gasped breath, hear the slap of skin on skin, hear the huffs and groans of Jin’s broken breathing behind you as you slowly come back into your body, as the tremors in your legs die back down to tiny, interspersed shakes.

“Holy shit,” you manage, lifting your head off the table and trying to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Can you take more?” he checks, his hand twitching on your hip like he’s keeping it in line.

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he whispers, and pulls your hips flush against his, slamming into you, sliding out, slamming in again until you’re keening out syllables that don’t add up to words, eyes screwed shut, exhales warbling out like sobs.

“Take it so well,” he praises, his voice shattered, the words coming through a clenched jaw, as he breathes and focuses and tries to hang on, hips snapping. 

He slows his pace and reaches for your shoulder, pulling you to straighten up, your back flush against his sticky chest. You moan at the change of angle, and then he slips out of you, turns you around again and lets you sit on the edge of the table. He reaches one arm around your shoulders to brace you and slides back in slowly.

Your head falls back, eyes closed.

“Can you look at me?” he breathes, chest jumping as he tries to keep it together.

With difficulty, you lift your head and open your eyes, finding his watching you intently. Gazes locked, he pumps once, twice, three more times and comes with a shudder, his head falling onto your shoulder as he spasms and groans deep and loud. 

His hips slow and then eventually come to a stop. He stays buried deep inside you, lifting his head from your shoulder and bringing his other arm around your back. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him thickly, your legs shaking.

He slips out of you gently, reaching down to wipe away a bit of mess that followed onto your thigh. “Don’t walk, then,” he tells you, and guides your arms around his neck before lifting you and carrying you through your new apartment towards the en suite.

He sets you gently on the edge of the tub and reaches to turn the shower on full blast. “Did we find towels?” he asks.

You lean against the tiled wall. “The box is on the bed.”

“Okay,” he says, then crouches down before you. “You good?”

“Mhm,” you tell him. He retreats, and you hear the telltale sign of tape being ripped off cardboard. He returns with two towels in hand and gently lifts you, guiding you over the edge of the tub and into the warm spray of water.

You lean against him heavily, sleepiness coming over you like a fog. He runs a hand over your hair affectionately, then leans down to whisper, “Four rooms to go.”

–

“Jin? Is the table set?”

“It’s set.”

“Can you open the wine?”

“Opening.”

“What about the -”

Seokjin takes your hands. You hadn’t even heard him enter the room. You’re too frazzled to even be startled.

“What are you so nervous for?” he asks, peering at you. “It’s Minji and Jungkook and our parents. We could literally serve pizza bagels in our pajamas and it would be fine.”

You sniff. “That actually sounds really good.”

Seokjin looks at you indulgently. “They won’t be here for another half hour. We have lots of time.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “You’re right. It’s just my first time hosting everyone at the same time here, in our place together - it just feels… significant.” Your parents and Seokjin’s family had been to the place you share several times in the last few months, but never together. Never for an event.

“I’m not saying I disagree,” he says gently. “But I promise, everything is more than fine.”

“You’re right,” you say, still unable to help, but glancing around the eating area for any detail you may have missed. 

“Why don’t we try the wine?” Jin suggests. 

“That’s for later,” you remind him.

“There’s plenty. We should make sure it’s good.” He sends you a wink.

You sigh, knowing exactly what he’s up to. “A small pour,” you instruct. “I’m gonna go grab my phone off the charger, I’ll be right there.”

You step through your bedroom without bothering to turn the lamp on, moving by memory over to your nightstand where your phone awaits. When you turn around to head back, you bump into Seokjin, lingering behind you in the shadowy room.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “I thought you were opening the wine.”

He takes your hands again, how he had just minutes ago by the kitchen table. “You’re right,” he says, ignoring your question. “Tonight does feel significant.”

You feel your brows furrow. “Jin?”

He takes a breath, like he’s steadying himself. “There’s something I want to ask you before everyone gets here.”

Your heart drops into your ass. 

He continues. “I thought for a long time about all the different ways I could do this, because you deserve something spectacular. But, I got tired of waiting for an idea that felt good enough and I just want you. So…” He trails off, digs in his pocket, pushes something square and velvet into your hands. 

“Jin,” you whisper, heart pounding. It feels right, somehow, that it’s happening like this. Just you and him, the apartment - the world - silent around you, speaking quietly through the dark.

It’s always been you and Seokjin, in the dark.

“So,” he continues, like if he stops he’ll lose his nerve, “I want to ask you… if you want to get married. If you’ll marry me.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Yes.”

He wraps you in a hug, and you say, muffled by his shirt, “Can we go back in the light so I can see the ring?”

Later, he sends you a sly sideways smile. “You know my sister’s going to spot that before she’s even through the door.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep my hands in my pockets all night, just so I don’t have to hear her.”

He bumps you lightly with his hip so you’ll look up at him. “Are you happy?” he asks quietly. 

You think about everything you’ve been through - a lifetime of wanting, years of misunderstanding, and over a year between figuring it out and now. Finally, finally, everything has aligned, every piece in place.

“Never been happier,” you tell him, resting a hand on his heart. 

“Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let’s stay that way for a long, long time.”

–

“No, you hang up first!” Minji squealed for the ninth time, before blowing many kisses into the phone and finally hanging up with her boyfriend. She was twenty, in love, and had somehow lost you from her bedroom during the course of the phone call. 

Calling your name quietly, she’d left her bedroom, typing a text to you as she peered into each of the rooms of the house, even the basement where Jungkook and his friends were still drinking. 

“Don’t get alcohol poisoning,” she warned them. “Has anyone seen Y/N?”

Finally, she decided you must have gone home and started padding back to her bedroom, sending you one more angry text to find in the morning. 

As she passed Seokjin’s room, she noticed his door was open about a foot. She stepped closer, just meaning to pull it closed - they did that for each other if they fell asleep with it open, it was just muscle-memory at that point - and then froze.

You were in Seokjin’s bed, fast asleep, curled up facing the door. For a second, she thought you were alone, but then she spotted Jin’s arm over your belly, his shoulders peeking out from behind yours. 

She bit her lip, staring, silent. In his sleep, Seokjin’s arm flexed against you, and Minji watched as you instinctively reached up to touch his arm, butterfly light, before letting your hand fall back to the mattress again.

She closed the door quietly, continued down the hall to her own room.

She knew better than to interfere, knew better than to meddle and mess it up. But still...

Maybe someday, she thought. Maybe someday you’d figure it out.

<- Prev

wow i can't believe it's over!! thank you so much for being here along the way - i know this was very different from my normal and i hope you had a really fun time reading! <3

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡infinity ♾️

"i love you for infinity~"

chishiya x reader | word count: 1,197 words

summary: you just wanted him to know how much you love him...♾️ (inspired by the song "infinity" by jaymes young)

warnings: angst, death of a character, some strong language (one word)

note: can't wait for aib s3!! i will BAWL if chishiya dies- also, probably ooc towards the end, idc :))

you had a little pre-game ritual with chishiya. well, it was more so just your ritual. before every game, you'd tell chishiya the same thing: "i love you for infinity." it was a way for you to express your love for him in case something tragic happened during a game.

you thought it was cute. he thought it was stupid.

"why can't you just say "i love you" plain and simple? it's like you want something to go wrong during the game." he'd say, finding it ridiculous. but deep down, his stomach twisted each time you'd say it out of fear of it being your last.

"come on, chi~ we've made it this far! my ritual is working!" you teased as the two of you walked around the rooftop of "the beach." you knew chishiya wasn't very keen on talking about his emotions, much less saying he loved someone out loud. but you could tell he loved you too based on his actions alone.

"you and your ritual..." he mumbled under his breath, playfully flicking you in the forehead before leaning down to kiss the spot before you scolded him. "go get some sleep. you need to be well rested for tomorrow."

"but the game is at night-" you were cut off by chishiya pressing his finger to your lips to shush you. "doctor's orders~" he teased, a small smirk on his lips. you frowned, mumbling against his finger. "fine, but only because i'm getting a little tired..." you lied, a goofy grin on your lips. you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss before making your way down the stairs.

as the days passed, more games were played, more cards were won, and more victories were celebrated with alcohol and intense partying. unfortunately, that also meant more players didn't make it. it was a new night, and you were currently packed into a car with chishiya and two other beach members. you played with chishiya's fingers under the seat, humming to yourself. the car soon came to a stop at a large arena, lights decorating it from top to bottom.

after locking the car, you all joined the group of players at the entrance. chishiya stood with you, leaning against a wall with his hood up and his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. you slipped your hand into his pocket, slowly intertwining your fingers. you leaned over and softly whispered to him as you did before every game. "i love you for infinity~"

the game was whack a mole. difficulty: 6 of diamonds. rules: there are 5 rounds. each round, one person was assigned to be the "mole." their task was to confuse other players into thinking they aren't the mole. by the end of each round, players choose who they believe the mole is. if they're correct, the mole dies by a giant hammer bashing their skull in. if they're wrong, one innocent player dies by impalement.

the first two rounds went rather smoothly, the players successfully choosing the correct mole. everyone watched in horror as the players got their heads bashed in, blood pooling on the floor as they shuffled into the next room.

for the third round, there were two moles. if they guessed just one of them wrongly, one innocent player would die. one by one, each player stepped into a room off to the side for their role assignment. when you stepped in, the little black screen flickered and showed you your role. you were one of the moles. you took a breath, attempting to calm yourself down. "just act as if you're not the mole. just act like you have been this whole time."

once everyone finished getting their role assignment, the countdown for the round started. immediately, one of the players started to accuse chishiya of being the mole. "how come he's always deciding who the mole is? what if he's the mole this time?" the man said, getting in chishiya's face. "yeah, i agree! he always has that stupid smirk on his face!" another man yelled, making you panic.

you quickly stepped between chishiya and the man to break them up, frantically shaking your head. "no! it's not chishiya! if anything, it could be you!" you said, jabbing your finger at his chest. "hah? what are you talking about, you bitch? it could be you too!" he yelled back, obviously looking a bit taken off guard.

"we don't have time to keep arguing about this! time is ticking!" one woman yelled, pointing to the clock that was already at one minute left.

"ROUND ENDS IN 60 SECONDS"

chishiya placed a hand on your shoulder, stepping closer and glancing at the man. "let the time dwindle down. it's obvious that whoever the mole is won't be so nervous about dying if they can successfully trick the other players, right?" he said, the man swallowing a bit. chishiya got him.

"PLEASE CHOOSE THE MOLES"

at hearing the automated voice, the man quickly pointed to chishiya, his gaze threatening as he looked at the other players. they all nodded in agreement, and you, in a state of panic pointed at the man. the automated voice buzzed for a moment, coming on over the intercom.

"NUMBER OF MOLES CAUGHT: ONE"

your stomach dropped as you saw a small door on the wall open up. in a moment of panic and despair, you leaped in front of chishiya, the blonde haired male grabbing you to push you out of the way. but it was too late. a mid-sized spear shot out of the wall...and straight into your chest.

you stumbled back, falling to the ground as chishiya tried to hold you up. your blood seeped through your jacket and onto his hands, his eyes shaking. "[y/n]....[y/n], come on, get up. get up, i can...ann and i can patch you up-" you glanced up at chishiya as your breathing became labored. the other players stood there, just watching, as if scared to do something.

you glanced down at the spear piercing your chest, then back up at chishiya, tears in your eyes. "chi-" "shhh, you- you'll be fine. you'll be alright!" you reached a hand up and gently caressed his cheek, a bloody smile forming on your lips. "chishiya...i love you for infinity..." you whispered, his eyes going wide. "no, no stop!" your vision was starting to fade a bit, your breathing getting slower. "i love you...for infinity..." you breathed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"ROUND 4 STARTS IN 2 MINUTES"

chishiya, gripped your hand, his whole body going into shock. he knew you wouldn't make it. the game masters would make sure of it. he decided to accept your fate, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you swore you could hear him sniffling a bit. "i love you too....i love you for infinity." he finally said it. he finally told you he loved you. and it would be the last thing you heard as your hand slipped from his and your eyes fell shut. it was true, chishiya loved you, to the moon and back, with all his heart, and for infinity. ♾️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!Reader [1.2K]

Steve knew you were waiting outside ‘cause a group of kids came scampering into the store, eyes wide and whispering about the witchy girl in the parking lot. 

And you knew to wander into Family Video when Steve had coaxed the last of the customers out, the neon sign above the door flickering off. 

“Hey, buttercup,” Steve grinned, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes at him, sulking past the open door he held for you. “Been waitin’ long?”

Steve locked the door behind you, key missing the chamber once, twice, because he was too busy watching you, the way your little black skirt moved, the high socks the same colour, pulled up above your knees. You hopped a little, shuffling yourself onto the desk, pushing away the brightly coloured candy jars as if they offended you. 

And perhaps they did, Steve thought. 

“Not really,” you said. “I had to pick up some things from town anyway.”

You said it to make him stop looking at you like that, all bright eyed and fond. But maybe you’d been hanging out with the boy too much, ‘cause he could tell you were lying. Maybe it was the way you dropped your gaze to the floor, or the way you kicked your boots back and forth. 

Maybe he just knew you better than you thought. 

But still, he played a long, if only to tease a little. “Oh yeah?” He asked, moving behind the desk to stack up the returned tapes. “”What’d you get?”

You stared at him blankly and he knew to watch the corner of your mouth, the right side, to see if he could spot the way it could sometimes lift and twitch a little, like you were hiding your smile from him. 

“Things,” you repeated. 

There it was. 

Steve smiled wider, too far gone on you to be affected by the way you scowled almost all of the time, face resting in a downturned pout that kept most people at bay. But Steve told you that you were ridiculously pretty and for the first time you could ever recount, your heart had stumbled and crashed against your rib cage. 

It was an awful thing, this having a crush. And Nancy Wheeler had bumped into you in the library parking lot and for whatever reason, had asked if you and Steve were dating. 

You had been a little speechless, not one to usually engage in whatever after school gossip that conversation was supposed to be, so you’d stared at her blankly and walked away, wondering how far you needed to go before she couldn’t tell that you were panicking. 

You didn’t panic. Ever. In fact, you had very strict rules to not show much outward emotion at all and gushing over a boy in a public space was not on your to do list. 

But then again, neither had Steve Harrington. 

And anyway, you hadn’t even kissed him. Much less anything else. But maybe Steve knew that, because he never tried to push you, or touch you too much, always a little wary before brushing his hand over your waist, your shoulder, tangling his hand with yours. And maybe he sometimes felt you tense up, a little stiff, wide eyed and staring. 

‘Cause when he did, he’d lean back just a little and ask if what he was doing was okay. You always nodded, keen to feel his touch, no matter how casual it appeared to be to him, completely confident that you were hiding the fact that your ribs were crushing your heart every time he linked his fingers with your own. 

But Steve seemed to be finding his way with you as you did with him, completely enamoured by your aversion to colour, always complimenting each of your outfits, all black, all the time. And when you once overheard his friend Robin say that you were ‘a little terrifying,’ the boy had sighed a little dreamily and replied, ‘I know, isn’t she amazing?’

He liked to tease until your scowl broke, just for a second, maybe two if he was lucky. He liked to lean in a little too close and watch your eyes flutter, to listen for the hitch in your breath that told him you liked him as much as he did you. 

And the best part of it all? He was the only one you seemed to allow that close. It made Steve feel all kinds of special, a little smug when he invited you to a roller rink night with his friends and you actually showed up. 

(Still dressed in black but you spent the night by his side and Steve swore you flushed for him under the neon lights. You denied it to this day.)

“So what d’you wanna do tonight?” He asked, moving around your dangling legs, picking up paperwork and the uncapped pens that Robin had chewed the ends of. “I’ll let you steal a movie or two, if you want.”

“Steal?” Your voice was silky and full of faux disappointment. “Steven, you’re a terrible influence.”

Steven. He wasn’t sure why you liked to call him that, but he liked the way it rolled off your tongue, sounding like you were always ready to tell him off. 

It was kinda hot. 

He scoffed, moving back around the desk to stand in front of you, hands itching to lay themselves across your bare thighs, that lovely stripe of skin between your knee highs and your skirt. 

He smirked instead, hair falling into his eyes ‘cause he was too lazy to push it back. “Says the girl roaming around town lookin’ like the grim reaper's daughter.”

God, he really knew how to try and make you smile, didn’t he?

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Harrington,” you told him curtly but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. 

He saw right through you, eyes full of mirth, leaning in close until his hands found the bare on your legs and he stood between your knees. A new place to touch, you noted with interest and your heart kicked up, agreeing. 

“Flattery will get me everywhere,” Steve grinned. “I know you like me, I can tell.”

“Is it the way I blush and fall at your feet?” You deadpanned, lashes lowered so he couldn’t see the tease in your gaze. You sounded awfully brutal, your voice flat, but the boy knew better. 

And plus, you hadn’t pushed him away. In fact, one chunky boot was pressed to the outside of his thigh, a barely there touch but Steve felt it as if it burned. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Steve murmured and he hoped and wished and prayed for you to lift your chin for him, to meet his gaze and let him see you. 

You did, like some kind of magic. 

Glittering eyes, lined with black, smokey and smudged. Trained on him like you were trying to figure out how he worked. 

“You look really pretty today,” Steve told you.

You blinked. Swallowed and kept your eyes on his, bold and brave and thinking. 

Fight? Flight? The pocketknife he knew you carried pressed to his throat?

And then:

“Thanks.” It was the softest whisper, even softer than the way your fingers reached out to pluck at the cotton of his shirt. You held on. “You do too.”

Steve was a perfect picture, a piece of art, happiness and joy and smiles. You found that you didn’t hate it.

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 15

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

The doorbell rang hysterically, as Jungkook kept clicking on it until the door opened in front of him. Mrs. Anderson opened the door, sighing out of exhaustion when she recognised the young boy who hopefully waited by her door, lighting up a smile as soon as he saw her.

—You again? I thought I got rid of you —she sighed.

It had been almost a month since the last time he showed up there, which actually surprised her, considering he tended to visit her at least twice a month to get his bi-weekly checks and celebrations as soon as the cards remained the same.

Except for the last time. His reaction was one she would've expected. Someone that celebrated being cursed from love couldn't be happy about that same curse coming to an end. But there he was, stepping inside her house, walking his way to the spot he knew so well, and taking a seat before she could even offer him one.

—Your fate won't change by sitting a second earlier, boy —she called him out, walking past him to take the seat in front of him—. Thought you said you'd come back two weeks ago.

It was what they agreed on, but his mind had been so busy that he didn't even remember. And then he thought about how he had been so into bickering with Y/n, or daydreaming about her being wrapped around him that he completely forgot about the last reading he got, and how it talked about the exact thing he was going through.

—Don't cross your legs and hands, focus your energy on what you want the cards to tell you about. And take it easy. Not because you're faster, the reading will change its meaning.

The reading started as usual.

She shuffled the cards, looking into his eyes from time to time. The first few times it made him uncomfortable, because he didn't quite understand why she did it. But it only took him three sessions to ask her, and be told that his eyes were a bridge to his soul and his experiences for her. It was her way to connect with him on a deeper level, to make the most out of each reading.

She planted the cards slowly, one by one, in front of him. Ignoring the way he seemed eager to hear the interpretation she got out of them. A few hums, eyebrows slightly frowned, and the twist of lips made him even nervous about what meaning they could have.

—The curse is still there —she let him know—. It's still strong, and it's keeping you from reaching your full potential. But there's something curious here —she pointed to one of the cards, getting his attention—. It's the first time the Justice card shows up whenever asked about this topic.

—And what does it mean?

—It seems like the curse is like a karmic punishment —she frowned—. I don't know what you did to that girl, but she wants you to suffer. She wants your heart to hurt as if it was ripped out of your body. You have a lot of unsolved issues, and this little problem might get you to want to solve all of them.

—Karmic punishment?

That definitely sounded like something awful, he could tell.

—Where's the fun part where I don't fall in love with anyone at all, and I just live my life?

—I told you the first time you showed up here that the curse wasn't something you should enjoy —she warned him—. I told you to be prepared. And now I can tell you'll definitely need to be really strong mentally to get through the karma that will come with it. Hmm.

The way her eyebrows raised, and her fingers fell on the cards to him hopefully looking back at her.

—Hmm? Hmm? What hmm?

—The Empress again. There's someone really powerful messing with your head, isn't it?

Jungkook omitted the scoff that was about to come out of his lips. Y/n was an average journalist, obsessed with illegal fights because they were her only trip out of lame reports. He wouldn't really consider her a powerful person. At least not in the strict meaning of the word.

It could be that she didn't mean Y/n. Could be that woman he was waiting for didn't cross paths with him yet.

—She isn't in my life yet, right?

—Oh no, she is —she quickly nodded—. I talked in present tense. She is messing with your head. Messing, right now —she explained slowly.

—But maybe she's messing because it's making me anxious to think about her in my life —he still tried to turn her words upside down.

—No, she is in your life. Now. Present. She's been face to face with you, she knows you and you know her —she explained, exhausted—. She is a real person, walking calmly in your life, and making you delusional about her not showing up. She is here —she lifted the card—, and there —she pointed with her other hand at his head.

His heart started beating fast as he tried to find an explanation as to how all of that happened. And then it clicked.

—You said I'd meet her through work.

—No, I said the connection will be made through some work you do —she explained, starting to get annoyed at his denial—. And it shows up here again: whatever pushes you to change, it'll be through some work you'll do together.

Out of all those people, of course it had to be Y/n. He met her when he was going through some big changes, and what's a bigger change than moving out somewhere else?

—And what if I don't do that work?

—Do you really think you'll be able to escape what the universe has planned for you? Okay, try it —she sighed— It has never worked for anyone. And it certainly won't work for you. But yeah, try it —she left the card she was holding back on the table—. Look, son, I think you are a good person. You might seem annoying and full of yourself, but I sense that kindness and good aura you let out as you walk into a room. It doesn't change the fact that you've done some things that have hurt people, and you might need to make up for those mistakes. You can run from them, you can slow down the process, but it'll get to you. If it's not in a few days, it'll be in a few years. It's a work we all need to do.

—It's not a choice to depart from this world without solving them?

—No —she seriously answered—. You can't —she looked at him, staring into his soul, before she continued speaking—. You do want to fall in love. I can tell. Your eyes speak louder than your words. You kept celebrating that curse, but your eyes showed disappointment every time I told you there were no changes. And today you looked hopeful, as if I said something you wanted to hear —her hooded eyes squinted—. You're so scared of love. And you think all those fleeting relationships will cover up that need in your heart. I told you once, and I'll tell you again: running away will never be the solution. And you might've started to realize recently.

—I've realized that I'm really happy with the way it is now.

—Is it? Why didn't you come when you first told me you'd come? —she inquired, picking up all the cards that were spread— Whoever that woman is, she kept you so busy that you even forgot about the curse. Am I wrong? That lady is indeed as powerful as the cards tell —she smirked to herself.

—She's not.

—Then why did you come here if it wasn't to confirm she was the one you've been running from?

Jungkook remained silent at that question. Despite showing off how serious he was about that, he was trying to hide as much as possible all his intentions to avoid Y/n and that dumb article until either of them moved out of their respective places, so they wouldn't have to see each other's faces again.

Her fingers tangled on Kyle's, completely ignoring the fact that she was doing exactly what she didn't want to do. At the same time she convinced herself it wasn't going to be anything as serious, that it'd only be just fun, her other side kept screaming how it really seemed that he had changed the past few months. He seemed more stable and genuine than the last time he reached for her.

—Did I say how beautiful you look today? —his fingers pinched her chin.

—Just a few times since you picked me up earlier —she giggled, resting her back against the wall next to the entrance to her apartment.

Ever since he showed up in her workplace, he kept praising how good she looked, and how she looked even better than she did when they last parted ways. Her cheeks kept blushing without any control, but she wasn't quite sure if it was because she just felt shy getting praise from anyone else, or if it was the fact that her ex boyfriend was actually telling her.

—Why don't we go up to your place, and I keep telling you how beautiful you look with even less clothes on? —he suggested, moving his finger down her neck.

—Isn't it a bit too early?

Was it?

Not even a few weeks back she was considering taking a complete stranger to her home, and things would've easily escalated if it hadn't been for the asshole of her neighbor. She didn't think about it twice, nor cared about how early it was, when she jumped to hook up with her neighbor the two times it happened either.

So what was exactly stopping her then?

She wasn't feeling that animalistic need, she wasn't feeling that feral attraction that would've pushed her to get upstairs as soon as they got there. She was attracted to Kyle, but not in the same way she was before they broke up. His kisses just didn't feel the same, as much as she would've loved to feel those butterflies make a mess in her stomach, there just wasn't anything. She felt nothing but a wet tongue sliding in between her lips, and a mouth sucking on her every time it locked on hers.

—Well, I've known you for six years now, what do you consider a bit too early? —he tilted his head, getting closer to her.

Before she could answer, his body pushed suddenly against her, having her gasping for air at the sudden hit. She was so close to calling him out for that, until she saw him looking back, quickly finding the owner of that push with a cynical look in his eyes and a fake smile.

—Oh, sorry —he mumbled—. I didn't see you.

Y/n just rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest at the attitude of her neighbor. Although she was confused at how she didn't even hear him coming, and how there wasn't a motorbike in sight.

—Are you blind? —Y/n called him out— Also, don't you have enough pavement, that you have to drag your body on the walls? There's literally six feet of space.

—It's not my problem you're here making out with your new toy, instead of going to your place. Are you fifteen? —he huffed.

—My new toy? You...

—Is this the guy that you told me about? —Kyle asked on the down low.

She remembered mentioning him, but she didn't think she went into so many details about him for her ex boyfriend to tell clearly who she was talking about by just a simple exchange of words. Did she really talk that much about him without noticing?

He suddenly moved, uncovering her body to walk towards Jungkook with a barely puffed chest and a brave aura that almost had her escaping from there. While he forced a personality that wasn't his, her neighbor just threw a smirk and a scoff, turning completely to that new man.

—It's reached my ears how you've been bothering Y/n in the past few weeks —Kyle started— and, by your attitude, I can tell you aren't planning to change in the slightest.

Y/n wanted to hide somewhere at that moment. The second hand embarrassment she was getting from that sentence alone almost made her squirm where she was standing. She didn't know what he was pretending, but it for sure wasn't working.

—And you think she needs you to talk for her? —Jungkook chuckled— She's more than capable of letting me know, and she's actually done that already. So quit that big boy act that's only embarrassing you. I know you might need to pull out your dick to show off that yours is bigger, but I won't fall for that —he mumbled.

Y/n was surprised, but at the same time she wasn't. Jungkook always fell for their small bickering, but for some reason he also gave her the image of someone who wouldn't stand low to prove himself.

And what had happened that night was one of the biggest turn offs she could've lived. It didn't cost Kyle a thing to just keep it quiet. He had no business doing what he did.

Their bickering was one thing, but having someone else trying to take a part in it wasn't her thing.

Kyle scoffed nervously, faking calmness as he exaggeratedly relaxed his pose and poked his hands inside the pockets of his pants.

—Shall we go up to your place, then? —he turned to Y/n.

Jungkook thought faster than her, taking advantage of the few seconds it took her to find an answer to his question. Those words came out before he could think about them deeper.

—Actually, you'll have to leave it for another day —Y/n looked at him confused—. Shouldn't we work on that article? Or are you planning to take forever to write it?

—We can work on it tomorrow —she tried to suggest.

—I want to work on it now. I'm busy tomorrow —Y/n squinted her eyes, knowing too well he was going to be free as he was on his usual agenda—. But if you don't want to, we won't. You're the one interested, anyway. Just know that if you reject me, I'll take as...

—Okay, okay —she stopped him, before he could get even more annoying—. Do you mind if we leave it for another day? —she turned to Kyle.

—If there's no other choice, it isn't like it's going to make a difference whether I mind or not —he answered.

He kept looking to his side, finding a victorious smirk on Jungkook's face, which he quickly erased as he leaned over to kiss Y/n on the lips to walk away from her building.

—Why do you look like you've smelled shit? —Y/n inquired, walking past him.

—Because I nearly did —he followed her inside—. I thought you had good taste, but now I'm seeing that I was the only good choice you've made. No wonder you don't hook up with anyone else.

—Says the person who has had a lot of hookups —she replied back with irony—, because I've barely seen any movement in your apartment.

—Ah, so you're keeping an eye on who I bring home or not?

His playful answer was a desperate attempt to distract himself from the thought that was crossing his mind.

As the elevator reached the ground floor, Y/n stepped first, pushing Jungkook back with a hand on his chest to keep her from getting there with her.

—I'll see you up there.

She devilishly smiled at him, before the doors closed in front of him. She was so annoying sometimes, yet so funny and cute. And that exact thought had Jungkook shaking his head, pushing away whatever second meaning that could be coming with it, as he got himself ready to walk up three floors to get to his apartment.

When he got there, Y/n was already waiting for him, arms closed on her chest while her head rested on the metallic exterior wall of the elevator.

—Look how pretty you look waiting there just for me —the cockiness in his tone almost went completely unrecognizable through the gasps and shaky breaths.

—Are you sure you're a trainer? It seems like you're going to puke your lungs out.

—It's because these stairs are too steep.

—Or because you smoke more than you should —she shrugged.

—Do you always need to have the last word? —he finally asked, standing in front of her.

—No, but it's fun to mess with you —she smiled at him—. Also, it's pretty satisfying to see how your expression changes so fast with every comment.

—Seriously? —his eyebrows raised, stepping closer to her— How does it change?

—Well, it changes from asshole to confused asshole —she nodded.

—I'm not an asshole —he spat back, resting his shoulder on that same metallic wall.

—The frozen pepperoni pizzas in my freezer say the opposite.

—Did you freeze them? —his words stuttered by the small giggle as he spoke.

—What was I supposed to do? You ordered food for a whole family. And I wasn't going to throw away something I paid —she stated, as if it were obvious.

—You should've invited me to eat them with you.

—And spending more time than I have to with you?

And there it was. She could feel the electricity making its way from the tip of her toes to the top of her head with just one quick look into his eyes.

Jungkook was mesmerized by the way her eyes shined with such mischievousness, he only wanted to sink in them. He didn't know where all that attraction was coming from, and when he started feeling smaller than her although he was almost towering over her body. He leaned closer, finally getting a taste of her after so long. Even if it had been only a few days, he could feel the thrill running through his veins when he felt the taste of her saliva on the tip of his tongue. Every time he thought he only needed a rub of her lips, he felt needy of more.

—Jungkook —he heard her voice.

Blinking back to reality, he found himself in the same pose he was in before he started daydreaming about kissing her, while she just stared at him with a confused look. She saw the exact moment he went far away from where he was, seeing his eyes showing nothing while they scanned her face slowly, moving up from her eyes to her lips.

—That's right —he quickly got himself out of that trance—. I won't make you spend more time than you have to with me.

She was confused as she saw him stepping back, walking to his door.

—Where are you going? I thought you wanted to work on the article now.

—I wanted to, but I'm so tired after you made me get the stairs —he clicked his tongue—. Let's leave it for another day.

As he closed the door to his apartment right before she could say a word, he finally realized what was so satisfying about closing the door dramatically, and why Y/n always did it to him whenever she had the chance. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[astranite]

'Cause I'm Gonna Stand By You (And hey, if your wings are broken, please take mine 'til yours can open too)

Virgil finds Scott when he needs him. They are there for each other through thick and thin.

Emotional hurt/comfort, crying and hugs. Warning for references to depression.

Title from Stand By You, by Rachel Platten.

---

Scott awoke to scuffing footsteps and the door to his room opening. 

Even with his eyes closed he knew the sound of the socked feet on his floor with heavy steps trying to keep quiet. Even half awake he knew the silhouette of broad shoulders and sleep mussed curls. 

He knew Virgil, whether it was in the pitch black of a cave where dust choked the air and the rumbling of unstable rubble consumed everything, or the dark of their island with only the hush of waves and the occasional cry of nocturnal animals. Of course he knew Virgil. 

Scott shuffled over to make room before the quiet voice had to ask. 

Virgil lay down next to him, curled on his side, facing Scott. A hint of light from beyond the gap between the curtains caught on tear tracks. 

Scott reached out and rested a hand on Virgil’s upper arm, rubbing gently. 

“Hey Virge, what’s up?” he asked, in the big brother tone he brought out when anyone was sick or hurt or just needed him. 

He felt Virgil shrug. He heard the slight hitch of breath as another tear rolled down his cheek. 

“One of those nights?” 

They all had them, where rescues got to them or the past dragged its way up to the surface. Sometimes they had them for not much reason at all. Those nights were always raw and painful. 

Virgil hesitated then nodded. 

Scott gathered him up and held him close because he didn’t need anything else to know that right now Virgil needed him. 

The hand on Virgil’s arm was thrown over him, landing to make circles between his tense shoulders, the other going around him to pull him in. Virgil ducked his head so he could tuck it beneath Scott’s chin. Scott took a deep breath in at the same moment Virgil choked on a shaky sigh. 

That Virgil came to him, when he was scared and lonely and hurting, Scott knew it was the biggest act of trust on Virgil’s part. Scott had his I’m fines, his must keep going no matter the cost because there’s no other options , but Virgil had his own ways of hiding the hurt, through smiles, soft words and looking out for all the others. It made it all the harder to realise when Virgil’s music had stopped, when he needed someone to be there, to lean on because steady and steadfast weren't any longer. 

The times when they ended up curled together like when they were kids, both too big for it but never going to give it up, were the most precious to Scott. 

Together they could talk about anything and everything, even the hard things: the failed missions, the ones that haunted their dreams, the fears that sunk in their teeth and wouldn't let go; all the doubts and insecurities of never being able to be good enough. How dad wasn't there and mum wasn't either, and Alan was growing up far too fast. 

It extended to the smaller things too. They could laugh at their own stupid jokes that only made sense to them because it was all based off of some line in a tv show they’d watched years back. He could blurt out whatever came into his head, even as mundane as the thought that they’d run though the islands supply of hair gel and needed to go grocery shopping again . It was those mundanities making up the fabric of everyday life. If he and Virgil had got the giggles over that, as maybe they were both the biggest contributors, it was late and no one was watching. Scott didn’t have to keep up his neverending act with Virgil.

They’d discuss Gordon’s latest marine rescue, both of them were ridiculously proud of their little brother and how far he’d come but it was hard to keep a straight face talking about a shark named Gummy.

Watching out for John too, that was another big thing they did, in whispered plans and observations they shared like grown up, serious childhood secrets, to make sure 35,786km up didn't turn into a million miles away. 

Being close to Virgil felt safe. Always had. Whether they were cocooned in the belly of a Thunderbird or a thermal tent in the middle of the arctic. And here, in a tangled hug, half-smothered under Scott’s mounds of blankets.

There were quiet, vulnerable moments, chests and foreheads pressed together.

Other times had them sleeping back to back because Scott was in the midst of a string of nightmares he couldn't shake and rest came easier with someone’s sleep-calm breathing to anchor his own to.

Virgil would flop down heavily on Scott’s bed while still coated in paint from late-night art sessions.  He’ve been trying to get rough rescues or dark moods out of his head but when that wasn't working he’d come to Scott.

There was the time, definitely not times, where Scott had been on mission shifts for 36 hours plus and there were still reports he had to fill and everyone needed him, but Virgil dragged him to bed and lay down on top of him because apparently he’d been being a bit of a ‘stubborn, self-sacrificing idiot,’ and Virgil wasn't standing for it any longer.

Sometimes John was with them too. They were the eldest three and had to stick together to look out for the younger ones. 

Or its was just John coming to Scott, usually grounded and dizzily space sick, missing his stars. John was of his two worlds, his two homes, but Scott knew up there he also missed them and still needed to be close enough to be in their orbit. Sometimes that meant wrapped up in a hug. 

Alan came to him, of course Alan did, he had ever since he’d been a tiny, kicking and wriggling toddler crawling into Scott’s bed because there were monsters under his own or that Scott’s blankets were better, or whatever it was that night. Now Alan was a jumble of lanky limbs with all the normal fears about exams and being liked by his peers, plus too many others from sights that a teenager should never have to see.

Gordon too ended up cuddled into Scott’s side on bad nights, when a silent, tearful Gordon, hurting in more ways than one needed his big brother to be there. Hydrofoil or back flare up, WASP service or rescues, Scott would always be there when the Squid lost his sunshine. 

The last time his brothers had all ended up in a big puppy pile on Scott’s bed was on movie night. The couches had been too covered in glitter from a prank gone wrong, or right, depending on who you asked. Though that was more of an excuse given how popular the game of stacks on Scott   was, which always ended up as group hug heap amongst his siblings. He loved it.

Right now though, Virgil was trembling in his arms. He started humming near silently, a low thread of vibration, nearly tuneless. Except for that Scott knew it was the same pitch as Thunderbird Two’s colossal engines, something he never would have picked up on his own except for Virgil trusting him enough to tell him when one day he asked. He’d connected it as a thing his brother did when he was distressed but Virgil himself had been the key to learning he did it because it was calming. 

More tears slipped down Virgil’s face. Scott could hear Virgil’s every swallow and sniffle as he tried to hold them back. 

Scott’s hand found Virgil’s hair, carding it through, tangling his fingers in the soft curls in hopes that he could give some comfort to his brother. 

Virgil’s humming rose in pitch, the sound of Two’s engines straining to hold up the load. The tune wavered and shook as Virgil did, being dropped and picked up over and over as Virgil faltered.

Then it stopped. Scott held his breath. 

Virgil sobbed.  

He sobbed like something deep inside him had broken. Like the earth itself had been split open. As if Virgil had been hit in the stomach by the worst kind of gut punch. 

Scott could hear Virgil’s world falling down on his head and how he didn't know whether he could stand the weight of it.

This was Virgil, his brother, his best friend so it hurt to all hells because Scott had been here too, he knew how painful this was. He was being stabbed through the heart because he felt Virgil’s pain but all he could do was keep holding onto Virgil. What was causing this? Why now? He wanted to fix this but this wasn't a problem he could just fix . 

Virgil pressed closer to Scott and for the thousandth, millionth time Scott promised the entire universe everything he had that he would take care of his little brother. Against the overwhelming tide, he was helpless. It wasn’t swallowing him, no matter how he’d trade places in an instant to take away his brother’s pain but it had Virgil in its grasping jaws.

He could only keep raggedly whispering, “ I’vegotyouI’vegotyouI’vegotyou,” into the dark.

With every broken breath, Scott worried Virgil was shaking apart with sobs. The image of rivets making their way loose and panels falling off of aircraft slammed into his mind. Of a Thunderbird falling from the sky instead of being brought safely back to earth. 

Scott hated having to witness any of his brothers feeling like this but he hated the idea of them going through it alone infinitely more.

Virgil was trying to hum, even now. The music, Virgil’s music was drowning under an ocean of tears. But Virgil still tried to hum.

Until he didn’t.

The dead silence was worse. 

Virgil whimpered and kept crying, exhausted and limp in Scott’s arms. Scott felt his own tears slowly trailing warm down his face. 

His hands were caught up in brushing through Virgil’s hair, fingertips touching his forehead gently, and holding on tight to Virgil. Muscles twitched and shuddered beneath the palm splayed out on his brother’s back. 

Virgil was a quiet  person in general but he was rarely ever silent. He was always humming or singing snatches of melodies, muttering song lyrics or engineering calculations aloud and tapping his fingers on the nearest surface in the patterns of piano notes. His voice was a soothing, musical rumble constantly accompanying them as it wove through their days. 

The times Virgil had stopped singing, stopped playing, had been some of the worst of Scott’s life too. This was Virgil , Scott didn't think he’d ever know how to go on without Virgil.

So Scott took over the tune. He did his best to match Virgil’s, to match Thunderbird Two’s. Maybe he wasn't getting the pitch quite right but he could try. For Virgil, he could try. 

He poured everything he had into it. All his breath, all his hope, all his love. Everything, to hold a steady hum even as he trembled too.

Because it was all Scott could do: hold onto Virgil, let him cry himself out, keep him safe. 

Hold onto his music, keep it alight until Virgil could take it back again. 

And maybe it helped, maybe it did something that wasn't nothing. Maybe , Scott hoped. Surviving and keeping going was still all on Virgil. This wasn’t something Scott could take away from him, no matter how he wished he could reshape the world to weigh lighter on Virgil’s shoulders. 

But his brother was here, because he trusted Scott so much that he came to him when he was most vulnerable and felt safe enough to fall apart. Scott could make sure he didn’t have to go through this alone.

A long time passed before Virgil started humming back, beginning as a low noise, deep in his chest, occasionally broken by lingering sobs. The sound blended with Scott’s attempts to hum, like One and Two’s engines roaring as they flew side by side, close enough you couldn’t distinguish them as separate. 

They were a messy tangle of tears and limbs, clinging to each other, but they were together and here and alive.

-

Scott was humming too. Not a song, but in the same way Virgil did. To comfort him .

The noise soaked into him as Virgil took in the sensations he was surrounded by: Scott’s tight hug, one he could lean into; a gentle hand tangled in his hair, familiar in how it caught him when he fell and held on; and the utter sense of safety that came from having his big brother close. It felt like home.

His body ached with the aftermath of emotion, leaden as it dragged him down, but he managed to move close enough to press his forehead to his brother’s.

Virgil opened his eyes, blinking through the tears gumming them shut. The first sight he saw was Scott, the tear-filled, bright, blue eyes of his big brother who loves him.

[writingsfromhome]

Rules to Break

A/N: not much to say about this, just a super fluff first-impression one shot.

—————————————————

He noticed her the first time she came in, but only because she was holding a copy of his favourite book. She’d lain it on the countertop as she squinted up at the menu and asked him if they did an iced Americano.

“We do,” he wanted to ask her about the book but when she meets his eye he’s suddenly nervous. He could tell she was in a rush, after working as a barista for nearly two years Harry could tell that when a customer looked past you even when they looked directly at you…it was not time to engage in small talk. “Is that all?”

“Uhm yes,” she bites her lip and glances at her phone. “Will that be long?”

He was right, “I’ll get started on it now for you.” Harry’s coworker shoots him a look as she moves aside from the espresso machine. He was supposed to be on cash strictly. But Americanos were easy and there were only two people in line.

“Pretty privilege,” she mutters. She was always going on about how life was easier for pretty people. Harry didn’t disagree, but also thought she benefitted from the same thing. He thought it was smarter not to say anything lest she bite his head off though.

“Here you are,” Harry pushes the drink at the pickup counter. She looks up from her phone, book tucked under her arm.

“Oh! That was quick. Thank you,” she smiles at him and this time she looks at him. Why did she make him so damn nervous?

Harry saw her a few times a week since then, usually with a friend but there were some times by herself in the far corner of the cafe. Her headphones on and typing away furiously at a laptop.

He never denied he was a romanticist, he fell in love easily and always. It never stuck of course, he was in love with the idea in his head, and it was easy when you worked in a cafe that was a revolving door for interesting people carrying small pieces of their lives on show while he made their drinks or took their orders.

The danger came from regulars; he had a rule not to romanticize regulars. But it was a rule he had to break when it came to her.

Today, she orders her usual and finds the only available seat near the sink. It was exam season so the cafe was mostly filled with students. Which meant it was too busy for Harry to keep an eye on her, him and his two colleagues work around each other as they pump out drink after drink.

3 hours later, Harry takes his 15 minute break. She’s still at her table, a friend had joined her. They talk animatedly over whatever’s on screen.

While her friend scans the screen, she sits silently. Then her eyes flit up and find Harry’s staring. Shit. He looks down at the water in his hand, turns awkwardly, and shuffles to the break room. It felt like she’d broken the fourth wall…it was uncomfortable as Harry remembers everything he knew about her was her coffee order, a shared book interest, and fantasy. He had to stop doing this.

Harry avoids her general area as he finishes his shift. He takes lunch in the break room, and focuses on the customer in front of him. One after the other.

Close to the end of his shift he risks a glance that way, and he’s surprised to still see her there. She must have ordered something when he was on his break because a second drink and half-eaten sandwich sits on her table.

The woman herself is staring into space, Harry thinks she’s day dreaming but she could be deep in thought. Maybe there was no difference. She snaps out of her thoughts and glances back at her screen. She must have noticed Harry though because she looks back up to him. This time she smiles. Harry nods and turns back to pouring the espresso in front of him.

Why did he nod? Was that supposed to be cool? What the fuck?

This was getting ridiculous. It’s been over a month of romanticizing someone just because she came in with a book. For all he knew she was holding it for a friend. He had to get over this—this was why he had that rule. He could obsess over someone he’d made up in his head for too long if he saw them too often. He had to stop.

“Can I uhm, get you a refill?” Harry decides to approach her table. “Seems like you could use one?”

“Oh,” her voice is soft, surprised when he appears at her table. “As much as I’d love that, I think I’ve had enough coffee for today.”

“Oh,” well that didn’t go how he expected. This was the other part about Harry’s fantasies—the reality always let him down. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she laughs. “Sorry have I been here too long? Are you subtly kicking me out?”

“No!” Harry realizes she’s smiling about it a beat too late. God he was normally not this awkward. He forced a laugh. “You have been here for some time, I thought you could use a refill. What are you working on?”

“Oh this,” she tilts her screen down lower. Government secrets.”

Harry waits a moment, unsure if her deadpan was really good or she was joking. She cracks a smile though and he laughs.

“You’re quite a serious one then,” she opens her screen back up.

“I’m…I’m really not. I’m mostly an idiot, ask my colleagues.” Harry glances back at the other side of the countertop and risks sitting in the seat opposite this woman. “To be honest I think I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?!”

“You’re intimidating!”

“Me!? Oh my god nobody has ever called me intimidating!”

“Nobody’s ever called me serious!” Harry laughs.

“I guess we don’t know each other at all,” she shakes her head with a laugh. “Intimidating.”

“You come in here regularly and just type away at your laptop all seriously. Your government secrets intrigue me.”

“My government secrets huh?” She smirks and Harry blushes.

“Yeah,” Harry pushes on. “Obviously. What else.”

“So is it true about regulars, do baristas actually remember our drinks?”

“Yeah,” Harry’s relieved at the switch in subject. “Iced Americano, sometimes with an almond croissant.”

“Hey that’s me,” she grins. “I’m actually writing a…well it’s supposed to be a novel. Right now it’s a fucking mess.”

“That’s what my mum calls me,” Harry jokes. “But I’m sure your work is great.”

“Nah not yet,” she leans forward on the table. “Does your mum actually?”

“She’s said it once, last Christmas.” Harry wasn’t sure if this was oversharing but she nods for him to continue. “I graduated with all these distinctions and now I’m just working at a coffee shop. I think she’s worried I’m not going to do anything with my life.”

“It’s not all cracked up to be,” she rests her head on her hand. “I had a job right out of uni, hated my life for over a year before I just said fuck it and quit. I live at home again, like I’m a bloody teenager. But…I think I’m happier.”

“I’ll put you on a call with my mum, say that exact same thing to her. Please?”

The pair laugh out loud, any awkwardness from before completely gone.

“It’s like I’m so burnt out from studying and never getting a break. I don’t want one part of my life to just rollover into the next.”

“Yeah!” she agrees.

“And, she doesn’t think it’s a real job, but I model on the side. I actually like doing it with this job so-“

“Of course you do!”

“What?” Harry watches her lean back in her chair and cross her arms.

“I should’ve know you model.”

“You should’ve?” He can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” she looks like she’s putting the pieces together about Harry. “Your government secrets no long intrigues me, I know what you use them for.”

The unexpected joke makes Harry laugh, a bit too loud. His team lead calls out his name and reminds him his break is about done.

“Sorry,” she whispers to him. “Didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

“It’s alright.” Harry chuckles. “I’m off in a half hour anyway, I haven’t got much work to go back to.”

“Oh,” she nods stiffly. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Harry gets up. “I’ll see you around Iced Americano.”

“That’s an awful nickname.”

Harry just shrugs and gets back to work, which is mostly cleaning up at this point. He realizes he should have asked if she had plans, they could grab a bite to eat since he knows she’s been here most of the day. Maybe he should ask now.

Harry peeks over the sink but her seat is empty and everything is gone from the table. He glances around the room but she had left. Disappointed. He felt a bit let down.

On the other hand, he realizes that this was the first time someone in his head didn’t let him down. She was bright, and funny, and really nice to him even though he cringed at how creepy he’d been. The disappointment stabs at him again. Oh well. There was always next time.

Once his shift finishes, and he changes out of the T-shirt that smelled like burnt coffee beans, Harry says his goodbyes and leaves. He turns to the right where the bus stop is but pauses when he spots a familiar figure on the bench.

“I was going to go home. But then I decided I would wait out your shift. And then it felt weird to go back inside so…”

“Aren’t you cold?” It was a brisk December evening.

“Fuck yes,” she hops up and walks over to Harry. “D’you want to grab a bite?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he couldn’t hide the relief in his voice. She had stayed.

“I know a good spot but it’s about 20 minutes walk?”

“I’m alright, I thought you were cold?”

“Not with company,” she threads her arm through his and they laugh at her cheesy response.

“It’s the company you make along the way,” Harry joins in.

“Exactly!”

They head in her direction and it occurs to Harry. “I don’t even know my company’s name.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs and sticks her free hand out to Harry as they continue walking. “I’m Y/N!”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Harry.” he shakes her hand and they laugh again at how weird they’re being.

“I know,” she smiles up at him. “Your name tag.”

“So I’m the only one who’s been in the dark.”

“‘Fraid so. Remember when you thought I was intimidating?”

“And you thought I was serious,” Harry laughs. She was an open book and he was always cracking jokes. How quickly they went from strangers to something else.

“We were naive then..but I’m still interested in this modelling you do. What’s it for?”

Harry explains his other job to her, the kinds of shoots he landed. What he was aiming for gig-wise. By the time they reach their destination Harry had asked Y/N about her novel and she was happily explaining to him what she wanted to write. He was happily listening.

Harry was glad he’d broken his rule because the mysterious girl in the corner of the cafe was splitting the mystery wide open. And turns out she was actually really cool.

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 45

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x OC

Summary = Tommy is off doing business leaving Ana back home at Small Heath where she has a heart-to-heart with her father?

Warnings = Language, Grammar,  Alcohol, mentions of selling a person. Mentions of possible Death. 

Word Count = 2040

Note = Thank you all for the continuous support and patience when it comes to this story. I am slowly but surely getting back on track. Please enjoy, there is a bit of a shock at the end of this, I don’t think any of you are expecting it? At least not vocally. Love you all, you are honestly the best! 

Standing next to the cooker I continued to cut the carrot into smaller, more manageable pieces before putting the cut pieces into the simmering pot of hot water. My mind was continuously going back and forth as to whether or not I should go and say goodbye to my parents.

After the conversation I had with my father yesterday, I felt upset. I had forgiven him for using me as leverage with the Changretta’s - after understanding the predicament he had found himself in. It wasn't a nice situation and at that time he had agreed to what he had to do, to protect his family.

I found myself upset, not due to the situation but because I knew I was going to miss him. We hadn't spoken in weeks. This was a man who raised me and showed me how to perfect my passion for tailoring. He supported my relationship with Tommy even when my mother didn't, he had tried to correct his mistake long before I knew about it.

He wasn't perfect, but he was my father.

My apprehension about returning to the tailor shop came because of my mother. She never supported my relationship with Tommy. After finding out about our relationship she treated me like I was nothing more than a common criminal. A whore you would find walking the streets looking for her next customer to provide a living for herself.

I never properly understood her complete hatred for our relationship until a conversation I had with Esme one evening - when the boys were drinking at the Garrison.

She explained to me how it felt to go into public before marrying a Shelby. The jeering, the abuse and the racial slurs she was subjected to was disgusting. She was a beautiful woman, with gorgeous brown hair with chocolate eyes, ridiculed because of her ethnicity.

I couldn't believe my mother would be so shallow but I shouldn't have been surprised. Thinking back to her mother and how she would speak about other people, it should have been glaringly obvious. I was just surprised I didn't carry on the same traits.

No, I carried after my father's mother, my grandmother Sophia. She was a good, kind-hearted woman, unafraid to stand up for what she believed in. Always there when someone needed her, taken too soon just after the Great War.

Reaching up I scratched just above my eyebrow with my third finger, knife still balancing in my hands when I heard the front door of my apartment open.

Instant panic chilled me to the core as the footsteps started to shuffle towards me. Tommy wasn’t due home until later tonight, information relayed to me late yesterday evening by Esme after her shift at the betting shop.

Clutching the knife tightly in my hands, I swallowed back my fears turning around in my spot. Keeping my back pressed against the counter, the shadow of the person peered through the opened door.

Shakily holding the knife out in front of me, I prepared myself for when the person finally revealed themselves. I was unsure of what I would do with it but silently prayed that the presence of the knife alone would scare whoever it was off.

“Damn it, Tommy,” I growled, breathing out a sigh of relief when he appeared around the door frame. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I found it hard to regulate my breathing once again, dropping the knife to my side. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t back till tonight?”

“I can always leave again if you want.” He smirked, his blue eyes travelling from the knife by side, back up to my eyes. His eyebrows raised, silently questioning the intentions I had with the weapon.

“I thought you were an intruder.” I sighed, turning on my heel to resume my chopping.

I was preparing one of his favourite meals, rabbit stew. I was following the recipe Polly had given me, a recipe written down by his late mother.  It was a meal she would make whenever her husband came home after months of being away or whenever she felt like her children needed a special pick-me-up.

The recipe called for the stew to be simmering on low heat for a few hours during the day. This allowed the meat to soften and the flavours to blend perfectly together. A hearty home-cooked meal.

“Do you think the men out front can't protect you?” He asked stepping up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and hugging me from behind.

“Of course I do, I just wasn’t expecting you.” I nodded, allowing myself to fall back into his embrace as his face nuzzled into my neck. His arms loosened slightly on my waist so that his hands were pressed against the bump that was steadily growing.

“Smells amazing Stace.” He inhaled the aromas flowing through the pot.

“Thank you love. Did you get the horse you wanted?” I asked, placing another carrot in front of me, ready to begin chopping once more.

“I always get what I want” Tommy cockily chuckled in my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth, the action sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

“That you do Mr Shelby.” I moaned, head lulling to the side, allowing his lips to work their way from the back of my ear to the column of my neck. “But I need to finish this before I have to leave, otherwise it will not be ready.”

“And where is more important than here in my arms Miss Adler?”

“My parents are leaving tonight, for Scotland,” I replied, the assault on my neck stopping at the mention of them. I felt Tommy pull his head from my neck, his hands moving to my sides, turning me around to face him. “My father visited yesterday...”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Tommy, we talked. I forgave him” I sighed, looking him dead in the eyes. "I just have to let him go now, say goodbye."

Tommy simply nodded, pulling me close to him. His chin softly rested on the top of my head, he held me tightly against him. Nothing needed to be said, Tommy knew I had to do this. For myself more than anyone else.

******

Brushing down the front of my dress again, I re-adjusted my coat around my waist for what felt like the hundredth time. Walking down Marshcroft Street towards my former home and workplace, I felt strange and heavy. I had an overwhelming bad feeling.

"You look beautiful, stop fussing," Tommy spoke, bringing my attention from my coat and back towards him.

"I just don't want to give my mother something to pick on"

"It's your mother, Stace. You just have to breathe wrong." Tommy joked, lips wrapping around the end of his cigarette, pulling the nicotine into his lungs.

"Maybe this was a bad idea." I stopped just short of the shop, pulling Tommy to a halt next to me. "I have a bad feeling about it Tommy."

"You will regret not saying goodbye. That's why you are doing this" Tommy reminded me, his arm slipping behind my back as he pushed me toward the black doors.

Stopping outside the tailor shop, the first thing I noticed was the door was open. Glancing back at Tommy, he shook his head, hand reaching forward to pull me away so he could take the lead.

Quietly, he removed his gun from its holster, pulling out the weapon before slowly pushing the door open the rest of the way.

Rushing up behind him, I held my breath as he entered through the door, his gun raised. Glancing over at me, his eyes widened slightly at my closeness before continuing inside.

The memories came flooding back the second I stepped through the door. The good and the bad.

The shop was exactly how I left it the day I walked out. My desk still sat in the corner, the needles and thread still sitting where I had left them. It was like a museum of my life before.

"All clear," Tommy commented, placing the gun back in his holster, a confused look on his face as he took in the appearance of the shop. Nothing was packed away. It simply appeared as if it were closed for the evening, ready to start anew the following day.

"They must be next door." I nodded, running my fingertips along the wooden edge of my desk, moving towards my chair and taking a seat, grinning up at Tommy.

"What's that look for?" He asked, walking closer to me, lifting the fabrics that were sitting on the spare chair next to me and resting them on the desk.

"This is where it all started for us, well here and the betting shop." I mused, reaching over, and placing my left hand on his knee. The diamond engagement ring glittered up at us. "James sat right where you will sitting when he figured out how I felt about you."

"That right?"

"Mmm, it was the night you came to collect your suit. Taking me with you to Charlie's yard to repair the window."

"I remember the night well." Tommy nodded, pulling his cigarettes from his pocket, rolling the white sick along his plump lips before lighting it.

"You only wanted me to go with you so you could kiss me again." I giggled, feeling my cheeks heat up at the memory. The day, Thomas Shelby stole my first kiss and had me addicted to him.

Tommy looked over at me, an amused smile playing on his lips. His hand came up, taking the white stick from his mouth as he thought of a response.

"I was addicted that day, still am." I continued, pursing my lips together. The action brought a laugh from deep within Tommy's chest.  

"I know the feeling all too well" Tommy commented, placing a hand over my own on his thigh and giving it a tight squeeze.

"I feel so lucky to have found you" I smiled, my head lolling to the side as I looked loving towards him. "Come on, let's find my father and go home for the evening. I can show you just how much I missed you"

"I can't say no to that now can I?" Tommy chuckled, taking my hand that was already in his to pull me to my feet and back out the door.

Standing outside the second door, I knocked gently on the wooden door, patiently waiting for a response but nothing. Trying again, I could feel Tommy's impatience next to me as we waited.

"Maybe they have gone early?" Tommy spoke, stubbing the end of his cigarette out on the wall next to the door. Peering into the living room window, when his entire body stiffened.

"Tommy, what is it?" I asked, taking a step forward only to be held away by his outstretched hand.

"Stace I need you to go get Arthur and John, now!" He spoke turning around to face me. His eyes darker than usual, the stress lines returning to the corner of them.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," I demanded, trying my best to push past him to look through the window but he wouldn't allow it. His hands wrapped around my hips stopping me from moving forward.

"Anastasia, I am serious"

"So am I Tommy. That is my parents I demand to know what is going on." I huffed out, determination clear in my eyes as I went to move forward once again. Tommy's grip loosened, but only slightly.

"Stace, look at me. Look at me." Tommy demanded, an unknown emotion glazing over his eyes as looked at me. A dark, sinking feeling churned in my stomach.

"Are they dead?" I asked with as little emotion as I could muster. I didn't want to fall apart, not yet.

Tommy inhaled sharply, holding his head high. Placing my hands over his wrists that were holding my hips, I gave a soft squeeze, silently telling him I would be okay with however he put the next few words to leave his mouth.

"It appears that way, Stace, yes."

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[themattress]

Unpopular Opinion Re:One Piece

The Water 7 Saga is not as good as everyone says it is.

It's among the most famous arcs in One Piece, right up there with Arlong Park, Alabasta and the Marineford War. It is frequently listed as peoples' number 1 favorite. And while I certainly like it as well (Franky is an awesome new addition to the crew, Spandam and Rob Lucci are fantastic villains, and the worldbuilding, action and emotional drama are all on point), I can't say I share the same fondness for it. In many ways, I kind of think it semi-ruined the series (only semi, though - the timeskip ruined it full-on!). Why? Well, there are three big reasons.

-1. Nico Robin's Backstory. For the first time, a backstory in One Piece left me incredibly disappointed. Nico Robin is such a great and interesting character that I was expecting a lot from her backstory, only for it to be the most laughably contrived set of circumstances there could possibly be to shape her into who she is now. The worst part by far is the reasoning behind her dream to uncover the truth behind the Void Century. Every prior Straw Hat pirate chose their dream. Others usually served as inspiration, but the characters still made the conscious decision as to what goal they would pursue. But Robin was born from a pair of scholars dedicated to uncovering the world's history and brought up in a super special scholar community dedicated to uncovering the world's history, which inevitably made uncovering the world's history her life's purpose since she could walk and talk! Also, through all the contrivances he puts her through, Oda totally forgets to show when and how Robin even ate the damn Devil Fruit that caused her so much trouble! The only explanations that are possible, when paired with leaving her child in the care of her spineless brother and his over-the-top abusive monster of a wife, paints Olvia in a terrible light that makes it difficult to care for her passing. Jaguar D. Saul is the only bright spot in this whole backstory for me.

-2. The Pacing. This is the first time things really began to drag in One Piece. Beforehand, we had two lengthy arcs in Alabasta and Skypiea, but the epic nature of those arcs justified it: the former was the culmination of several prior arcs and the latter was an entire new frontier for the Straw Hat pirates to explore. Neither are the case with the Water 7 Saga, so the way things are drawn out, especially when we hit Enies Lobby, become far more noticeable. It's to the point where Oda actually had to ax Rob Lucci's backstory because he was aware that would only increase the arc's already ridiculous length! While you were still emotionally invested enough to push on through reading/watching this arc regardless, it planted the seeds for all the drawn out arcs post timeskip, where not even such investment remains.

-3. The Consequences. Before this saga, One Piece was an adventure series. There were worldbuilding lore and government politics and military operations as a backdrop, but the primary focus was on the Straw Hat crew's adventures during their voyage to find the One Piece. But then Luffy shoots down the World Government's flag, and as great as that is in context, outside of context it signals a huge shift in narrative focus that fully materializes post timeskip. One Piece is now a series about worldbuilding lore and government politics and military operations, with the Straw Hat pirates often feeling lost in the shuffle or else focused on fighting the forces of the World Government rather than trying to find the One Piece. While obviously the World Government's corruption that was due a reckoning was always planned to be part of the story, Oda didn't seem like he intended on it being the primary thread until making the Water 7 Saga and releasing it to great acclaim. As a result, One Piece has ironically gone the way of the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels where it's now all about overcomplicated mythology and a full-on war between powerful pirates and a corrupt government navy, all while the main character who works best out looking for treasure barely seems to have a clue as to what's going on. The thing I cared about in this series was the main characters working to achieve their dreams, not the liberation of the world from a corrupt government. Well, we're now in the final saga and said liberation is the narrative drive, while the main characters seem no closer to their dreams since when they started.

I still respect One Piece. But I don't like it so much anymore. And Water 7 is really when that started happening. In hindsight, maybe the World Government's flag should've stayed up.

[windermeresimblr]

13, 31, 24 for the ask game :)

13: from basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you?

I tend to spend a while planning, mostly because research is my favorite thing in the world. When I finally think I've got something good enough to post--this can be a while or I can be really feeling it and put it up in a minute--my process goes like this. First, if I write anything, I try to write with poses in mind. (I usually have some of yours in the mental picture files, haha.) Or if it's not quite pose-friendly, find a spot where I can take a photo and have it look naturalistic. I want my pictures to look like they're illustrating the story, and I'm not always successful! Second, it's off to hair and makeup for my Sims. And wardrobe, of course. Wardrobe is my favorite part. Oh, and set design, because I'm the one who insists on very niche topics to write about, and very few other people have the same "visions" as me. This can also take some time, because I'm horrendously picky. Then I have to remember how to take pictures in-game, because that always slips my mind. If I'm being good, I get a bunch of angles so that I can pick and choose. More often, I am not being good and I only take a few. After that, it's editing, and then fighting with Tumblr to put my text (I write in Google Docs or LibreOffice or the notes app on my phone) into the post without it looking weird. So this is usually at least three days; a week is closest to my high-production output. And if I get discouraged, it's usually in between stage 1 and 2.

31: drop some random trivia about your story.

Alasdair once had a storyline where he lived in 17th century Holland and grew tulips. I still think of that storyline from time to time. I didn't go through with it because I don't remember why. Like Alasdair, Ioluri originally started life in Create-A-Sim as a brunette, before I went for the bottle of hair dye. Wee Lassie, rarely pictured, got her name because I was imagining Alasdair being totally besotted with a runt of the litter. I suppose she has a pedigree name, but she is always and forever Wee Lassie to him. (And to me.)

24: are there any characters who remind you of yourself?

I think I put a bit of myself in all my characters, but Kolfinna--do you remember her? she got lost in the shuffle, poor thing--was closest to me because she has my hearing loss and speech impediment, as well as my stubbornness. She also inherited my habit of hiding plans until they can't be hidden anymore, which is what would have led her to cross paths with Alasdair. They would have had a lot of fun if I ever get back to her story. Alasdair is not like me at all, I think, but he got my bravado foolishness in the face of the supernatural. I have had precisely one possibly supernatural encounter, which was on a study abroad in Ireland at a tourist trap that was supposed to be a fairy circle. I thought the undergrads were being ridiculous when one of them said they 'felt a presence,' and so, being the grad student and the adult of the group, I dared the "Lords and Ladies" to come out and show themselves. (Yes, I did grow up stealing peeks from my grandmother's huge book of Irish folk tales, but clearly I did not learn anything from it.) When a fence cable across the pond we were at then vibrated like someone plucked it, I said, "that could be anything! if you're really there, make it stop!" And it did! Stone cold! As if someone had simply stopped and grabbed it! At this point we all screamed and ran to rejoin the group. I laid awake in the hotel that night wondering if I was going to be abducted, or if I was in the clear, and had I seen that or had I imagined things? Fortunately for me, I have not been stolen away by the Fair Folk just yet. Poor Alasdair not so much! (What they'd do with me anyways I don't know.)

[mercuriallycooperative]

okay but like the story? about the last time Wednesday cried? when she was six? that was genuinely horrifyingly traumatizing as hell, like what the fuck.

(i think this has haunted her all through her life, and not in the fun way; and i think we see it more often than we know throughout the events of the show.)

like I think in some ways its gravitas can get hidden, a little, because Nero was a scorpion, and when you start off a story with “Wednesday was out taking her scorpion for a walk”, that’s an image that’s a little ridiculous and a little surreal, something not-quite-real; and because Nero was a scorpion, Nero was a bug (okay an arachnid but still) and I think at least in the US we don’t necessarily instinctively group those in with animals-that-can-really-be-pets-the-way-dogs-and-cats-are, unless we know someone that has one and we learn that yeah actually they can be; and in that same vein Nero-the-scorpion, Nero-the-bug, can sort of get lost in the shuffle of the idea of a generic sort of scorpion-bug, because we’re not exactly conditioned to tell one apart from the other, right? No more than we are for, say, beetles or cockroaches. “Wednesday’s pet scorpion” is the idea that is primed to stick in mind, not the fullness of the fact that “Nero, the scorpion” was a discrete being.

and like- okay, I do not speak for the world and the general success a media has with instilling an empathy is variable and emotions are hard but like- even watching that awful moment play out on screen, even knowing it’s awful because between the basic facts of the moment and the framing and the right proper acting how can it not be, even then I suspect that with how casual our socialization is with the death of carapaced creatures, Nero’s death doesn’t receive the full impact it deserves.

that is, emotionally, the audience doesn’t quite have time to really sit with the fact that at six years old, Wednesday was held back by some bullies and forced to watch her pet be crushed in front of her, for the crime of being hers. she had to watch the life leave his body along with his organs. she said it was snowing when she buried what was left of him; and the audience doesn’t get a chance to sit with the fact that this means Wednesday probably had to scrape up her pet’s mangled corpse by hand from the pavement and carry him home.

like. jesus fucking christ.

and you know what? you can bet she never did get any justice for Nero. no justice other than what she may or may not have taken out with her own two hands at some point later, anyway. because Nero was a scorpion and he was a bug and an arachnid and maybe venomous and people are scared of creatures like that and those boys were just playing around and it was probably just an accident, you really shouldn’t have had that thing out in public-

she was a child walking her pet, peacefully, harming no one.

(can you imagine if that had been a dog or cat? and those boys had held down a kid and crushed their dog or cat to death in a public street like that?)

i said, earlier, that I think this event has haunted her all her life. I don’t just mean with respect to how she decided that crying doesn’t solve problems, and that she wouldn’t be doing it again.

one might wonder, for someone like Wednesday who is so cavalier about causing grievous injury (to the people who bullied her brother) (to the person who killed Rowan and all those people), why she seemed to care that the school, her prison, might burn. one might wonder why she seemed to care that Rowan died, when he had literally just tried to kill her- not just cared for the mystery, cared for the death. one might wonder why she says her greatest fear has always been that she would be responsible for something bad-terrible.

Nero died for the crime of being hers.

i would be willing to bet that Wednesday doesn’t want anyone else dying for the crime of being in her vicinity. (unless she’s the one doing the murdering, anyway.)

i would be willing to bet she doesn’t want to be the reason, the cause of anything she doesn’t mean to do.

(i would also be willing to bet she doesn’t want to lose people, especially not because of her own... just existing in the way she does; i think that might contribute to any natural tendency she has toward being standoffish, and possibly also why she took the falling out with Enid quite as badly as she did. but my personal thoughts about how Wednesday tries to bond with people can wait.)

there are events that shape your childhood. for better, for worse, they write themselves into your bones and make a home in your lungs and stain you in their blood.

i would reckon that Nero’s death was such an event, for Wednesday.

[justsoohi]

Black Carol/Episode 1

Tomoya: ·········· (He's frozen in place by the neck)

Rinne: Oioi. No matter what, You shouldn't run away the moment you see my face?

Tomoya: (Why, why, why!? This is absolutely ridiculous. No matter how I think about it, I’m so out of place?! this has to be another of anzu-san's mistakes, right? someone tell me I’m right!!)

(Anzu-san, could it be that you made a mistake this time too? I mean, isn't it so? Please tell me that's so~!?)

Yuzuru: Ah yes, Mashiro-sama. Aside from the others, you and I had a lunch box duel together, didn't we

Ibara: Ahaha. He probably sensed the shitty malignancy that lurks beneath your smiling mask, Yuzuru

Yuzuru: Rather, if anything its because you always show that smile while hiding your knife. No matter how much you tries to blend in with the world, you can't hide the stench of something fishy from me. So Mashiro-sama must be frightened that you keep coming at me

Rinne: anyhow, Isn't it because of both of you? If the seniors are so tense, he must be frightened. Right?

Tomoya: EEK?!

Rinne: Why?! I'm not doing anything to you!?

Yuzuru: You can't grab someone by the neck and tell them you did nothing. I think it's normal for him to be frightened

Subaru: Excuse me☆ Yahoo yahoo. Nice to meet you today~

—hm? What are you all doing?

Tomoya: Ah. Akehoshi-senpai! Heaven's help~!

Subaru: Eh? What? What's going on? Why did you hid behind my back?

Subaru: Ah~. Now then, everyone was bullying Tomoya-kun, right? Don't bully our cute kohai, he doesn’t deserve to be bullied~okay?

Rinne: I didn't do anything like that! I mean, why is he so scared of me when I didn't do anything

Tomoya: Ah. I'm s-sorry. I was under a lot of pressure, and it was a conditioned reflex...

No. I came here thinking it's a petting zoo with cute fluffy animals, But I didn't expect to find myself in a cage with wild animals?

Ibara: What's with the rude analogy....

Tomoya: Ehehe. I just exceeded my brain's capacity. I'm fine now. I'm starting to understand what's going on.

Let's see. I guess this means that everyone here is a member of "Shuffle Unit", right?

Yuzuru: It appears so.

Well, I can understand Mashiro-sama's confusion. It is true that I am not sure why this group was chosen... It is doubtful whether synergies can be obtained

Subaru: Eh, really? On the contrary, Isn't it more interesting not to know what kind of chemical reactions will occur?

Rinne: You never know, there might be an overreaction and a huge explosion.

Subaru: In that case, I want to make a big and beautiful explosion like fireworks~☆

Rinne: What a big shot you are. Well, I don't mind that kind of thing

Ibara: Hm? Let's ask Anzu-san to explain the rest. It looks like she've arrived

Subaru: Ah, Anzu! Yahoo yahoo☆ Yes. It's okay. We were just chatting.

Ibara: So, could you please begin by giving us a brief overview of the project Producer-dono?

Rinne: What the hell is this...?

Tomoya: ? Excuse me. No matter what angle you look at it, it looks like the only thing written on the whiteboard is "we're going to do something amazing!"

Is it some kind of trick I'm not seeing through? Is it just me who dont get it? Is this a code?

Rinne: Don't worry. It looks the same to me.

Yuzuru: Is that something that can be reassured about... I can only sense a big trouble coming...

Ibara: ....This is giving me a headache. Anyway, Anzu-san. Can you tell us more about it?

Yuzuru: Let's see..... So you are saying that one of the "producers" of the "P Agency" had evaporated, and he was in charge of this "shuffle project"?

Rinne: so? There was no one to take over the job because they were too short-staffed. Anzu-chan came to explain the situation, but she said she couldn't afford to take care of us.

Subaru: Hm~. That's why Anzu wants us idols to lead this "shuffle project."

Tomoya: Led by idols... But this project is a big one, isn't it? Even with the backing of ES, how can we do such a thing on our own?

Ah, right! Saegusa-senpai is also a producer for CosPro, right? Then Saegusa-senpai you must have a good idea...

Ibara: If I can do it myself, I'd like to do it, but... it would be difficult if it was led by "P Agency"

Tomoya: Eh? Why is that?

Ibara: Since this project is a cross-office, in order to maintain fairness, a "producer" who belongs to another office can not get involved.

In ES, which has many offices, "P agency" also plays such a role.

Well. Although it is possible for me to evade their eyes and do my own production business in secret!

Yuzuru: Ibara. Anzu-san is troubled now

Ibara: yeah yeah, in other words, I need to devote myself to being an idol this time.

Subaru: Yes! And it would help Anzu too! You've been apologizing for a long time now. It's not like it Anzu's fault you know.

Anzu, rest assured we will all work together and do our best.

Yuzuru: Yes, if this is called a job, I'll just do my best.

Tomoya: (Eh!? Wait a minute...! Why is everyone so positive~!? It's impossible for us to proceed with the project alone!)

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