#trying to keep one cat from eating things the other is supposed to have

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.10

summary: friendsgiving, you meet all the slytherins, this kinda doesn't contain a lot, just meeting new characters and wholesome interactions, i might make a part two to this lmao

cw: casual drinking? firewhisky is mentioned but you can interpret it in any way you want really

word count: 2.1k

“Stop that, Siri,” you scolded, swatting at his hand, “It’ll never boil if you keep stirring it.”

You were at the stove, boiling water for potatoes, or trying to at least. Sirius, bless him, wanted to help out, but he was really just in the way if not a downright hazard in the kitchen. 

“You told me to boil and stir, those are my duties and I take them very seriously.” He said with a chuckle at the last part. You rolled your eyes and scooted him out of the way.

You had already baked a lovely cake, and helped James cook some chicken and pasta, the last thing you had to make were the mashed potatoes. Remus had cooked up some veggies and was storing them in the warmer.

About a week ago, you suggested a “friendsgiving” to the boys. They had no idea what you were talking about, staring at you and blinking blankly as you explained the concept. You just wanted to have your friends over, all under one roof, and eat yummy food and play fun games. It sounded easy, in theory, but it turned out to be a lot more work than you were expecting, especially since one of the three boys could not cook to save his life. You decided to put Sirius in charge of drinks and entertainment and that appeased him. 

The house was a rush for a couple days, you all decorated and figured out recipes you were going to make for the whole group. Then there was the inviting everyone and setting a time that everyone was available. It was like herding cats.

Your friends, Mary, Lily, and Marlene, were all easy. They communicated and organized and everything went off without a hitch. But Sirius wanted to invite his brother and some friends that you had yet to meet and they seemed…. Well a little less communicative and organized, but that was apparently very normal for them, none of the boys were upset by it.

“Remus,” you called into the other room. The tall boy appeared on the doorway in an instant. “Would you please help me finish the food?” you asked sweetly, batting your lashes to really drive it home.

Remus smirked and rolled his eyes. “Only if I have to.” he replied jokingly.

Sirius whined from beside you where Remus was now moving him out of the way. “Well what am I supposed to do?” he said, pushing out his bottom lip in a fake pout.

You looked at him and smiled, knowing his antics, he was only wanting to stay in the kitchen so he could “test” everything you were making. “Why don't you help James?” you suggested. James was in the living room, setting up some fall-ish decor which included strings of leaves he found outside. He claimed the colors were too pretty to be left out in the cold, so he hung them up insead. It was cute. 

Sirius huffed and exited the kitchen. You continued on cooking, a little faster and more efficient now that Remus was actually helping you. It was a little while later, as you were finishing up, you heard some muffled arguing in the other room. You and Remus gave each other a confused look, then went to go and see what all the commotion was.

You entered the living room and it was completely transformed into a fall wonderland. There were strings of leaves hung up across the ceiling, carved little woodland creatures strewn about, candles lit everywhere, and a fire stoked in the fireplace. The room had a warm glow to it. You stood there in awe, taking it all in. Maybe you should put Sirius on decorating duty more often.

“How did you do all this? And.. you were in here for like ten minutes, how?” you asked, still in shock.

Sirius smirked at you. “Magic,” he drawled, shoving what looked like one of the decorative sticks into his back pocket. James shook his head at Sirius, and Remus coughed from beside you. You couldn’t believe it, he and James must have worked really fast. 

Your attention was drawn to the door, hearing a knock and some cheerful chatter. You smiled, instantly knowing who it was.

You opened the door and were met with the sight of Mary, Lily, and Marlene, all holding dishes they made.

“Hello love!” Mary sang, kissing you on the cheek before stepping inside. You hugged both Marlene and Lily and let them in as well. 

“I can’t believe you actually live with them,” Marlene said to you while handing her dish off to James. “I mean, if you ever need an escape, just let me know and you can come stay with me instead.” she said, conspiring against her friends.

You laughed but answered, “I like it here, the boys are lovely.”

Marlene blinked at you in shock. “The boys? Lovely?” 

“They better be,” Lily chimed in, glaring at both Sirius and James.

The latter held his hands up in defense as the former confirmed “We’ve been on our best behavior.” 

All of you settled in, the girls leaving their dishes on the long table that James had somehow conjured up early this morning. You all found space on the couches or chairs or just on the carpeted floor. Conversation was lively, they all were recounting stories about their school days. 

You learned a little bit more about the boys through the eyes of the girls. Apparently Remus was known as sort of a “casanova” in their years at school, James and Sirius got detention every day for three months but were able to sweet talk their way out of it after only a week, and that they had once set a fire in their common room.

“It was small!” James defended himself and his friends. “And we put it out eventually, didn't we?”

“Yes, because I supplied the water!” Lily laughed, making the rest of the room chuckle along with her.

“What about you, Y/N? You have any harrowing tales from school?” Mary asked.

You shook your head and let your gaze fall to the floor. “I was way too shy to do anything bad or adventurous in school.” you supplied.

“You never got into trouble?” James asked. “Not even once?”

“I mean…Not for anything like setting a common room on fire.” you shot back at him, jokingly. James smiled at you, the perfect, warm smile that he often reserved only for you. The type of smile that would instantly heat your face.

You were grateful for the knock at the door, taking the attention away from you and your growing blush.

Sirius jumped up and raced to the door, opening it to reveal a boy you had yet to meet. He looked almost exactly like Sirius, the only differences were his shorter hair and his sharper features, almost cat like.

“Reggie!” Sirius exclaimed, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. The boy stiffened a bit but pat Sirius on the back. "You didn’t make anything?”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would I make anything? Can’t we just-”

“Regulus! It’s been too long” Mary called out, skipping up to him and hugging him as well.

“Where are the other two?” James asked.

The boy shrugged. “Honestly I don’t know, I told them I was leaving at 5:00 and for them to be in the car. I left at 5:00.” he said plainly, making James chuckle.

“And they weren't in the car?” James asked again.

“They were not in the car.” The boy confirmed smiling slightly, just the corners of his mouth, but somehow it lit his face up entirely. He turned to you, looking you up and down. “Hello, I’m Regulus.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” you said, giving him a small wave. “I’m their new roommate.” you explained, nodding your head to where James stood beside you.

“Oh right, Sirius mentioned you,” he said. You couldn’t really get a read on him, didn’t know if he liked you or not, if he was friendly or not.

You were saved by Marlene inserting herself into the conversation by asking, “So Reggie, uh, do you know who else is coming?”

Regulus turned his attention to her and smirked. He raised his eyebrows and said, “Oh yeah, Pandora is coming. Can’t wait to see her.” He smiled at her like he knew something, like he was onto some game she might be playing.

“Cool, yeah! Love Pandora. I’m, uh, excited to see her too.” she said quickly, then walked away. Regulus and James laughed.

There was another knock on the door, Sirius again opened it and revealed two girls standing side by side. One with dark brown hair and the coolest clothes you had ever seen, the other with blonde hair and an eccentric aura around her. The blonde was holding a tray of baked goods and the brunette was holding some sort of bottle.

They said their hellos to everyone before the blonde stopped right in front of you. “You must be Y/N! It is so lovely to meet you. I am excited to get to know you more, I’m Pandora by the way.” she said in an airy type of voice. She seemed sweet, kind. You were excited to get to know her more too.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” you said.

“I made pumpkin pasties, I hope that's alright with you.” she said, motioning with the tray in her hands.

“Oh, uh, yeah that’s great, thank you so much.” you started, “I’ve never had one before so, I’m happy to try one!” you finished, trying your best to match her cheeriness.

“Never had a pumpkin pasty?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “They are practically all I would eat when I was at-”

“I’ll take that.” Remus interjected, taking the tray gently from her hands.

“Oh Remus! How have you been? I was wondering about…” she started, getting distracted from you and following Remus into the kitchen. 

The other girl now stood in front of you. “Hey, I’m Dorcas.” she said. (you noticed Marlene blushing in the corner, eyeing her. Is this who she was hoping would show up…)

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you repeated to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she echoed the formality. “So… you’re living here now? With them?” she nodded to Remus and James in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding.

She handed you the bottle in her hand. “This is for you, I think it may come in handy living with that bunch.” she laughed, her voice smooth and soft. “It’s whiskey.”

You giggled and thanked her, taking the bottle. “Drinks, anyone?” you asked, raising the bottle up for all to see. There was an assortment of yes’s and agreements. You made your way to the kitchen to start handing out drinks.

Everyone was mingling and drinking, making their way to the table. You sat between Remus and Dorcas, talking to her about clothes and jewelry. She was wearing some of the coolest rings you had ever seen and you needed to know where she got them. “Oh here,” she said, handing you one you had asked about.

“W-what no. I couldn’t” you stuttered, shocked that she would be willing to give it up. Like she had known you for years, like you were sisters sharing clothes. 

“No, don't worry about it, think about it like a house warming present or something.” she explained, popping the ring�� on the placemat in front of you. “Besides, I like making my own rings, I can always make another.”

You thought right then that she may be the coolest girl you had ever met.

There was yet another knock at the door. “Late as always!” Mary sang from the other side of the table, making the room laugh. Pandora was the one who jumped from her seat and made for the door. 

“Evan!” you heard her call out. She re-entered the room with two boys behind her. The first boy was tall, almost as tall as Remus, and blonde like Pandora. The other was slightly shorter and had green streaks dyed into his black hair. The second boy was holding a pie.

“I told you I was leaving at 5:00” Regulus muttered from one of the heads of the table.

“We made a pie.” the one with the green streaks said, extending out the pie he was holding.

Lily crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow “you made a pie?” she said with an accusatory tone.

The green haired boy smiled. “We bought a pie, and the pie is here.”

You stood and walked up to the two new boys. You introduced yourself and took the pie, telling them to follow you to the kitchen so they could grab drinks as well.

“I never thought the day would come when I would be jealous of the marauders.” you heard the green haired boy, whose name you learned was Barty, mumble to the tall blonde boy, whose name was Evan, Pandora’s twin brother.

so this one was so fun to write even though nothing really happened, I just like to flesh out all their personalities kinda... idk. also there is so much magic in this one if you're looking for it. I do wanna do a pt.10 pt.2 lmao but that is so silly

taglist 💌:@too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem @nislame @latenightreadingpdf @v-loves-frogs @meggishhhh @mooonyxoxo @sodavrr @notmonstersapocalipse @plk-18 @prettylittlewrites

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

Sorry about all the cat posting I am

STRESSED about my idiots

[ktownshizzle]

Terms & Conditions | Chapter 4

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, I might include scootergate in a future chapter but please know it will be written sensibly imo and with so much love for our Yoongi (I just wanna protecc him at all costs even thru this silly story!), some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range

Chapter Warnings: MC is actin’ a fool (she’s just a little conflicted guys, don't be mad), angst if you squint, second-hand embarrassment, if there are mistakes please ignore them I’m still editing, first kiss and it’s hawt and it's with this yoongi. jfc~!

Word count: 5.6k (approx. 20 mins to read)

Posting date: October 23, 2024

Notes: This would be my last quick update for a while. Next chapter will be out in 3 weeks time earliest. In the meantime, enjoy~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Masterlist

Turns out, you actually did have ramen. 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The whole night had been building to something else. The tension between you and Yoongi had been thicc, simmering for weeks, magnified in every stolen glance, every knowing smile, every deliberate touch.

But all of that changed the moment you stepped inside your apartment. Let’s back track a bit.

You fumbled with your keys, taking at least three tries longer than usual to unlock the door. Your heart was racing, Yoongi’s presence behind you was like a furnace. He must’ve noticed your nerves because he placed his hands gently on your shoulders, trying to soothe you, but it only made you more conscious.

Finally, you made it inside.

Too flustered to even turn on the lights, the dim glow from the kitchen cast long shadows, making the space feel smaller, more intimate. Wordlessly, you both kicked off your shoes and hung up your coats.

“Ramen, huh?” Yoongi teased, his voice low, the smirk practically audible. He wasn’t fooled by the offer. You both knew what ‘ramen’ meant. But for some reason, you were acting like a complete idiot.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered, bolting to the kitchen as if the pots and pans could save you. “We could actually eat ramen. I, uh... have some.”

Yoongi didn’t reply immediately, but you heard his slow, deliberate footsteps following behind. That sound alone made your pulse race faster. You yanked open cabinets with more force than necessary, the clattering of dishes betraying your current state of disarray. Grabbing the ramen packets, you held them up like a shield. “I have shin ramyeon, jin ramen, buldak—what’s your favorite?”

When you turned around, Yoongi was leaning against the counter, watching you with a quiet, amused smile. “You’re nervous,” he observed. No shit, Sherlock!

You shook your head, denying it, even though you weren’t fooling anyone—not even yourself. A pack of ramen just fell on your foot. You bend over to retrieve it, and when you stand back up, Yoongi is in front of you, hands outstretched to take the three other packets from your arms and place them on the counter.

The way he was looking at you sent shivers down your spine. You were a ball of yarn, slowly unraveling under this cat’s playful hands. You gulped, turning back to run the pot under the tap.

“Okay,” Yoongi said from behind you, clearly stifling a laugh. “Ramen it is, then.”

You exhaled deeply as you heard him make his way to the living room. You peeped from behind your shoulder. He’s checking out some of the photos from a low shelf, a small smile on his lips. 

Fuck the pot’s overflowing. Hastily, you closed the faucet,  poured out some of the water, and brought the pot to the stove.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asked, his tone casual.

You waved a hand vaguely toward the hallway without even looking, trying to avoid eye contact with him as much as possible. “Just down there.”

And that’s when you messed up. Because after that, everything changed.

When he came back, something was off. He looked... discombobulated. His face caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“What?” you asked, sprinkling dehydrated vegetables from the Shin Ramyun pack into the pot. “What happened?”

Yoongi tilted his head, biting back a grin. “Your room… it’s, uh, very...”

It took a second, but then it hit you. Hard.

“Oh no...” Your stomach dropped. You are the biggest idiot of all time.

He hadn’t gone to the bathroom. He went to Chae’s room. Chae, your BTS-obsessed best friend, whose room is practically a shrine to Yoongi and his bandmates. Posters, merch, plushies, framed photos—everything. Depending on her mood, Yoongi might even be the featured member on her duvet.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, horrified. “You didn’t—”

“I did,” Yoongi confirmed, voice full of barely contained laughter. He pulled out a barstool and sat down. “Didn’t know you were ARMY.”

“Okay, hang on.” You raised your palms in defense, scrambling to reason. How can you explain this without offending him? “No, I’m not ARMY. Don’t get me wrong. I like you—uh, I mean, I like BTS. But that’s not my room.”

Yoongi nodded, a finger lodged between his teeth to bite back his amusement at your rambling. “I’m just teasing. I saw the neon sign with Chae’s name. Couldn’t miss it.” He shrugs, “Just wasn’t expecting to see more of Jungkook-ah tonight. Chae really loves those Calvin Klein ads, huh?”

You buried your face in your hands, peeking through your fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi shook his head, reaching for your wrists, gently pulling your hands away so he could see you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You stared at him meekly, voice tiny. “I dunno…”

“It’s not a crime. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

He grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “I got you to admit something, at least.”

You blinked, confused. “Admit what?”

His grin widened. “That you like me—I mean BTS, you like BTS,” he teased, repeating your earlier words. You were mortified all over again.

You groaned helplessly, turning your back to him.

His cute, throaty laugh somehow made you feel a little less embarrassed—but also made your heart race for an entirely different reason.

You heard the crinkle of ramen packets being opened, and when you turned back around, Yoongi was standing there, eyes glinting mischievously behind the steam of the boiling water.

“This ramen’s gonna be fuckin’ good. I can already tell.”

The evening takes on a different rhythm after that, the heat no longer crackling with the same intensity, but still simmering beneath the surface, like the hot broth you scooped into ceramics for you and Yoongi to enjoy. 

You both sit on the couch, soup bowls on hand, laughing about the absurdity of walking into Chae’s room, talking about anything that isn’t the weight you’ve both been carrying. Yoongi leans back, stretching one arm along the cushions behind you, the space between you narrowing with each quiet moment.

The conversation fades, and the silence that follows feels more like a prelude to another conversation that needs to be had. His fingers graze your shoulder before curling around it, pulling you gently toward him. You don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in, letting his warmth seep into you, feeling the quiet shift between you. 

It’s not the same moment you’d have expected earlier, but it feels real, steady. And maybe that’s better. Maybe this is what you actually need. For now.

“There’s something here, isn’t there?” he asks softly, like he’s testing the waters.

“Yeah,” you reply, the truth rolling out without hesitation. You inhale sharply, the reality of the moment catching up to you. “There is.” You exhale, saying the next phrase almost regrettably. “But there’s also the NDA. If anyone finds out... I could lose my job.”

Yoongi’s grip tightens, his thumb brushing slow circles on your shoulder. “I know,” he says gently, almost apologetically. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d never risk that.”

You look up at him, really look, and it’s all there—the restraint, the careful way he’s holding himself back, waiting for you to lead. You can see the desire in his vision, the way his body leans just slightly into yours, the way his focus lingers on your lips and stays there. He wants you, but he’s not going to push.

“I can’t think straight when you look at me like that,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Why did you say that? It feels dangerous, like you’ve just given up a secret you weren’t ready to share.

“You think I can?” he chuckles softly, tipping his head back toward the ceiling, exhaling a frustrated “shit” like he’s trying to release the tension hanging between you.

“Is this a bad idea, Yoongi?” you ask, looking down on your lap, scraping the dry bits of skin on one finger, just something else to focus on apart from his face.

Yoongi shifts closer, his body coaxing yours until you melt against him. His arms circle you, wrapping you in comfort, and you let him. Of course, you do. 'Cause it feels so damn good. He feels so damn good. You didn’t realize how touch-starved you are til this moment. Your arms quickly find your way around his body, too, and you revel in the satisfaction it brings.

“How about this,” he murmurs after a beat, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Let’s take some time to think about it. We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

You nod, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath you. He means it. He’s giving you the space, the choice—and that’s enough for now.

When Yoongi finally stands to leave, the atmosphere is a little lighter, still buoyant with potential. He pauses at the door, holding your hand just a little longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over your skin before he speaks.

“I won’t be in the office next week. I’ve got some things to take care of. But, can I invite you over to my place next Saturday?”

“Yeah,” you answer without hesitation. It feels like the easiest answer you’ve ever given.

Yoongi reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, passing it to you without a word. You take it, knowing exactly what he wants—what’s long overdue—and type your number into it before giving it back.

Riding on a surge of courage, you rise up onto your tiptoes, and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your hands find each other again, and the soft squeeze he does grounds you both in the moment. The kiss—it was more like a peck—is gentle, brief, but it feels like a promise. Unspoken, but understood. You’re not ready to explore it fully, not yet, but it’s gonna come. 

You pull away and catch the moment when his eyes slowly open. “Good night,” he whispers.

“Good night,” you reply, your hand lingering in his until it naturally falls away as he steps back, walking backward into the hallway.

The door clicks shut, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, feeling both lighter and heavier all at once. Whatever just happened between you—it’s real. And now, you decide where it leads.

Not a minute after he leaves, your phone pings.

Unknown: ��[Address] Unknown: Can’t wait for Saturday. Good night, beautiful. 

“RISE AND SHINE, SLUT!!!”

Chae bursts into your apartment like a tornado, her voice echoing through the space as she strides in, bags of coffee and donuts in tow. It’s barely 9 a.m., and she’s already charged with energy. You glance up from the kitchen where you're unloading the dishwasher, the clatter of dishes nearly drowned out by her entrance.

She marches straight toward you, tossing the bags onto the counter. “Alright, spill. What happened? On a scale of one to ten: how good was the tongue technology?” She’s practically vibrating, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the grin that stretches on your lips. “The tongue technology was…” You pause dramatically, just to watch her lean in. “Nothing happened.”

Chae’s face drops, as she flops onto your couch. “What?! That’s impossible. Nothing?”

“Nothing,” you confirm, continuing to clear the dishes, the clang of silverware punctuating your words. “You kinda had something to do with it, actually.”

She bolts upright, brows raised. “Wait, what did I do?”

You shake your head, trying to hold back laughter. “Well, he needed to use the bathroom, but…”

The way she looks horror-stricken is hilarious as she pieces it together. “No!!! Shut the fuck up.”

“Yep,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing as you lean against the counter. “He went into your Magic Shop.”

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Chae wails, dramatically falling off the couch and onto the floor, writhing like she’s physically in pain. You can’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter as she flails on your living room floor, her face scrunched in pure mortification.

You finish your story, shaking your head. “Yup. So, there he was, just trying to take a piss, and instead, he was greeted by all of his own face staring back at him. Honestly, the fact that he didn’t run screaming is a miracle. I for sure thought he would think we’re some psycho duo who lured him in our den to murder him and sell his body parts in the black market.”

Chae sits up, groaning. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can’t believe—fuck.”

You wave her off, still grinning. “It’s fine. We ended up eating ramen and just… hanging out.”

“Being the world’s worst cockblock was not in my 2024 bingo card. Did I fuck it all up?”

You wince, wiping your hands on a dish towel and tossing it onto the counter. “It was awkward for, like, five minutes. But no, not really.”

“But…” Chae tilts her head, zeroing in on the shift in your tone. “You’re low-key panicking, aren’t you?”

You sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. “God, I know it sounds ridiculous! I’ve been losing it, thinking I’m just, like, this weird work wife and he’s just stringing me along for shits. And now that I actually know he’s into me too, I thought I’d feel better, but I’m not–I’m still freaking out.”

Chae watches you, letting you get it all out.

“What are people going to say if they find out? That I seduced him—just like they thought I would? It’s insulting and mortifying! I don't want to be that girl. And more than just office gossip, there’s that NDA hanging over my head. I could actually get sued…”

“First of all, that whore Danbi can suck it,” Chae says bluntly, shrugging as she hops up from the floor and grabs a donut. “And honestly, babe, let Yoongi pay the fines even before shit hits the fan. He’s got enough money.”

“Be for real, Chae.”

“Girl, if he’s serious about you, he needs to handle it. Make it known to his company that you’re not some random hookup. He’s gotta deal with that shit.”

“It’s too early for ultimatums,” you argue. “We’re not even officially anything yet.”

Chae raises an eyebrow. “You’re something. I saw the way he was looking at you, all heart eyes. And don’t think I didn’t see you guys playing handsies under the table. You make me sick.”

Your lips form a straight line, trying to hold back a smile, but you can’t help it. “He’s so… ugh. I like him.”

Chae grins, sitting beside you. “I get it. You want it to be real, but you’re scared of the shitstorm that comes with it.”

Chae gets it. This is why she’s your bestfriend. “Exactly,” you sigh. “It’s just… complicated now.”

Chae reaches over, squeezing your hand gently. “Look, you’ll figure it out. Don’t let fear stop you from seeing where this goes. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, nodding slightly. “Yeah… I guess.”

Chae stands, stretching dramatically before heading for her room. “And next time? I’ll make sure my room is locked.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, it’s a real boner killer.”

“Funny, I’ve never had any issues in there.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

“Love you!” she sings, grinning as she enters her room.

“Love you too!”

You’ve been on edge for days, but now, standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment, that nervous energy shifts into something else—anticipation. The building’s lobby feels imposing, the security guard's request for two forms of ID more than enough to stir your nerves. Once they verify your information, you're ushered to the elevator and as you ascend there’s a buzz beneath your skin. 

The moment the doors slide open, Yoongi is already there, leaning casually against the doorway, waiting just for you. His smile is welcoming, but the hug he wraps you in says everything he doesn’t—soft, steady, and a little too tight, like he's been needing this as much as you have.

“Hi,” you say when he releases you, suddenly feeling all shades of shy.

“Hi,” he replies, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you inside. The door behind you slides shut with a quiet whirr, the lock clicking into place as if on cue.

Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam feels sleek and modern, but with a lived-in vibe. The couch is slightly disheveled, pillows piled at one end, and a throw blanket is casually tossed across the cushions, like he’d been napping before you arrived. The soft glow of a three-wick candle flickers from the console, its scent filling the space with something comforting, like freshly laundered sheets—a blend of clean cotton and subtle sweetness that wraps around you as you step inside.

He looks so hot, it should be a crime. He’s dressed comfortably, but he still looks effortlessly sexy. It’s kind of unfair, actually. The oversized black hoodie hangs loosely, and the faded jeans cling to his frame, the rips at the knees offering a glimpse of skin. Scandalous! 

What really catches your eye, though, are the silver hoops glinting in his ears—one thicker, hanging low, and the other daintier, nestled in his second lobe. You’ve never seen him wear jewelry before, and the sight of him in it now sends a thrill through you, a quiet gesture that he put thought into today.

You made an effort too, choosing a lacy purple top that peaks from under your white zip-up hoodie, paired with those jeans—the ones that always make you feel a little extra confident. Standing here, you hope it shows.

He ushers you to the kitchen where the comforting smell of suyuk simmering on the stove greets you.

“You can stay here, or chill at the couch,” he says, casually slinging a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “Might need a few more minutes with this.”

“I don’t mind. I think I want to stay here,” you do a tiny hop to sit on the counter, giving you a great view of the yummy meal prepared by this equally delicious man. Honestly, you’re still wondering how this became your life.

The pot of suyuk is covered to stew for minutes more. Yoongi pulls the sleeves of his black hoodie to his elbows and grins. “Wine?”

You nod.

“Rosé, ok?”

You nod again, watching the way his hand moves with practiced ease, filling a glass in one smooth motion. He passes you your glass and picks up his.

Yoongi leans against the counter opposite you. “You know,” he starts, a playful glint in his gaze, “you’re really annoying.”

The heck?! You quirk an eyebrow, bringing the glass to your lips. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, seriously,” he continues, stepping just a little closer, “you’ve been stuck in my head all week, and it’s kind of a problem.”

A nervous laugh escapes you, but you try to keep it light. “Oh, I’m the annoying one? You’re the one who brought that loud-ass mechanical keyboard to work.”

He pouts, the playful edge you’re used to shining through. “Hey, you never said anything about that.” He moves again, this time standing directly in front of you. “But I’m serious.”

Your pulse quickens as he lowers his voice, glancing down to his wine glass, before he looks back up at you. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

The words hit you, sending a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. You set your glass down on the counter, beside where he sets his, feeling the energy shift between you. “You’re just saying that because I’m here, in your fancy apartment, drinking your fancy wine.”

Yoongi goes to step into the space between your legs, and they instinctively part to let him closer. “Nah, you know it’s more than that.”

Goddamn. Your knees brush against his hips as he inches closer, his hands coming to rest lightly by your thighs, squeezing it lightly.

“We… we probably shouldn’t,” you whisper, though your fingers are already resting on his arms, curling lightly around the sleeves of his hoodie, keeping him close. “Not until we’ve talked.”

“I know.” He pauses, searching your face, but instead of withdrawing, his hands slide up to cradle your waist fully. “But we both know we want to.”

You bite your lip, looking at him. “Yeah, and that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? Why does this have to be complicated?”

Yoongi’s hands tighten slightly, firm but still careful, as if he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop. “Things are always complicated,” he says quietly, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”

You exhale slowly, feeling his words settle over you. His forehead drops forward slightly, almost brushing yours. All you can focus on is him—how close he is, the feeling of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” you murmur, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

“Why?” His face is dangerously close to yours now, the question hanging in the air between you.

“Because I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Yoongi’s breath catches, a soft chuckle slipping out, but it’s not mocking—it’s almost relieved, like he’s been waiting for you to admit it. “Well, at least we’re on the same page.”

He leans in, his nose brushing lightly against yours, and for a moment, you think this is it—he’s going to kiss you. In fact, you could close the distance right now, but instead, you reach up, flicking his forehead with your fingers.

“Ow!” He jerks back, rubbing his forehead with a mock-offended expression. “What the hell was that for?”

“For making this complicated,” you smirk, the moment breaking just enough for you to breathe again.

“Right, blame me.”

“Well you’re the idol.” You laugh. The air feels less heavy now—more like a promise than a problem.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says after a moment, his voice low, serious again, palms going back on your legs, moving them like he is smoothing out the fabric.

“Yeah?” You thread the strings of his hoodie on your fingers.

He looks at you again, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah. But for now, I’m perfectly fine with being annoying if it means you’ll stick around.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile. “You know I will.”

His grin widens, playful again, but there’s something softer underneath. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in just a little with a lopsided grin. “Me too.”

Dinner was amazing. The suyuk was cooked to perfection–soft, juicy, and subtly seasoned. Each slice melted in your mouth. Yoongi served it with four kinds of banchan, all prepared by his eomma and sent from Daegu that very morning. You don’t ask if it was specially because you were coming over, but you let yourself believe that for a while, even though it was presumptuous.

As he clears the table (refusing to let you help in any way), you wander to the window in his living room. Your mind wonders how Yoongi can be this perfect, really. First, he is handsome. Second, he is kind. Third, he smells wonderful. Fourth, he can cook. As you catalog all his wonderful traits in your brain to rival the Dewey Decimal system, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, though still a bit dazed. “Thank you for cooking.”

“My pleasure.”

Yoongi proffers you a glass of wine, and your fingers brush against his for just a moment—long enough to feel the spark that’s been igniting between you all night. 

The apartment feels spacious now, the soft, jazzy tune from the record player filling the room with a smoky, lazy rhythm.

You take a sip, admiring the view through the enormous window, the Han River stretching out beneath you like a sea of shimmering lights. The city skyline flickers, alive and distant, and for a moment, it’s as if the two of you are in your own world, above everything else.

Yoongi steps up beside you, the closeness between your bodies almost unbearable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stands next to you as you both look out at the city. 

For a while, neither of you speaks, letting the silence stretch out. It’s not uncomfortable. If anything, it feels like the calm before something inevitable, something you both know is coming but aren’t quite ready to face.

“Beautiful view,” you murmur, more to fill the quiet than anything.

“Yeah,” Yoongi replies softly. “Gorgeous.”

“But you’ve seen it a hundred times.”

And then, you realize his gaze has been on you all along. “Not talking about the Han.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the subtle curve of his lips. Your heart skips, and you look back out at the lights, trying to focus on something else.

“You know,” you start, your voice quieter now, “it’s dangerous spending this much time together.”

Yoongi shrugs, face indifferent. “I’m not worried about it.”

He sets his glass down on the windowsill, taking yours, too as he steps closer. “Are you?”

You hesitate for just a second, your pulse quickening. “Maybe.”

The city lights shimmer beneath you, but all you can focus on is him—on the way his eyes linger on your face, the force between you growing with every second. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly his hands are on your waist, guiding you gently closer.

You freeze for just a moment, your breath catching as his fingers move underneath your hoodie to brush against the fabric of your top. It’s soft, barely there, but the electricity it sends through you is anything but subtle.

He leans in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

You feel your resolve waver, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel yourself melting onto him, your back now flush against his chest. The soft melody from the record player wraps around you, and before you know it, you’re swaying, the two of you moving in a slow, lazy rhythm.

You rest your head against his shoulder. His arms tighten around you just slightly, his fingers splayed across your stomach in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the music.

He hums, his breath hot against your ear, and doesn’t let go. Neither of you does, and the two of you continue to move to the slow rhythm of the music.

After a beat, your slow dance stops, and Yoongi coaxes you to face him. You meet his stare, and the look in them is unmistakable—he’s holding back, the same way you are. The longing between you is palpable, every second stretching out like it could break at any moment.

Your fingers grip the fabric of his hoodie, your voice a whisper as you say, “This could be a bad idea.”

He nods, his forehead resting against yours now. “I know. But it could also be good.”

You swallow hard, mulling it over. He says it like it’s simple, like he already believes it. 

“We don’t have to do anything, ok?” he assures you. “But I want to hear what you’re afraid of. I want to ease your mind.” He plants a soft peck on your forehead, as if he can magically erase all your fears.

You hesitate but even the doubts are starting to fall away. Maybe you shouldn’t. The NDA, the complications, the fine line you’ve been walking—there’s every reason to step back. To keep this where it’s been. But your heart’s hammering too fast, his presence too overwhelming. You take a deep breath.

You glance at him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, softening his features but sharpening the attraction between you. Your thoughts are spinning. You’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Not this kind of heat—this slow, dangerous burn that’s been growing between you for months. And it’s not just about how he looks, or the chemistry—though, that’s undeniable—it’s him. 

Yoongi is solid. Kind. Real in a way that cuts through your usual hesitations, making you feel like you want to dive into whatever this is, no matter the risk.

“Speak to me…” he encourages, pushing a piece of hair back behind your ear. But the words don’t come. Because even though you're filled with dread on what could happen if you take this step with him, you’re also filled with want. So, so much of it. You want him so bad. And you don’t think you can wait any longer.

“What if…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes are on you now, sharp and focused. “What if… just this once? I don’t want to think about anything else.”

Yoongi doesn’t move. For a second, you think maybe you’ve phrased it so abrasively. But then his gaze shifts—something raw, something unguarded flashes across his face.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low, almost a rumble in the quiet.

Your pulse races, the words caught in your throat, but there’s no going back now. You nod, the answer clear in your head before you can stop yourself. “Just one kiss.” 

And before you can second-guess yourself more, his lips are on yours—firm, demanding, and everything you’ve been waiting for.

Yoongi’s hand cups the back of your neck, his fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you to him, fast and deliberate. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s immediate, intense. His lips crash against yours, rougher than you expected, but it feels so fuckin’ right.

Your back hits the glass window behind you with a thud, the cold surface making you gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi doesn’t stop. He’s all heat and urgency, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to make up for every moment you’ve spent pretending you didn’t want each other this desperately. His hands move to your waist, gripping it like he’s afraid to let go.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, letting yourself melt into him. His lips are firm, skilled, moving with a kind of intensity that has you dizzy, every thought slipping away except for him. He breaks the kiss only to drag his lips down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath your ear. 

You let out a soft moan, your hands finding a place at the back of his neck, guiding him back to your lips. It’s not graceful—none of this is. Raw and messy and honestly, it’s everything you’ve been holding back for far too long.

Yoongi’s hands slide up your arms, pushing them over your head, pinning your wrists against the glass. His body pushes harder against yours, breath coming fast and ragged as he looks down at you, his lips swollen from the kiss. There’s a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes, like he’s holding himself back but barely. 

“One more, please?” he asks, voice pained, like it’s taking everything in him not to go further, as his nose nudges yours.

You can’t think. Your brain is empty. It’s all Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. The only answer you have is the way your body arches into his, silently begging for more. “Ok,” you nod, “more.” And that’s all he needs.

He leans in again, kissing you deeper this time, more controlled but no less intense. His hands tighten around your wrists, holding you there, completely under his control, and you can’t help but surrender to it. The glass behind you is cold, but his body is so warm against yours. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that—lost in the fire of his kiss, the feel of his hands on your skin. It feels like time doesn’t exist, like the world outside these four walls has disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

Slowly, he releases your wrist and only then do you start to feel the pinpricks shooting along your arms as they descend limply along your sides. Gasping for breath, you tilt your head to the side, and Yoongi instantly claims the crook of your neck, murmuring your name in a raspy voice against your skin.

But even then, he’s still waiting, waiting for a sign that you want this to go further. After all, you only said one kiss. Knowing Yoongi he will not go beyond what you tell him to. If he only knew that you are so far gone at this point. Game fuckin’ over.

When he finally retreats, both of you breathing hard, he doesn’t say anything immediately, but the way his eyes search yours says everything.

“Tell me what you want,” he pleads, his ragged breath dancing along the moist parts of your skin. “Anything, jagi, it’s yours.”

“You,” you say, inhibitions long gone, the sweet name he uses ushering all the nagging thoughts away. “I want you.”

Nodding, he closes the gap between you and mumbles his assurance against your mouth, “You have me.”

So tonight, you’ll let yourself have him. 

And it’s gonna be so fuckin’ good you can already tell.

A/N: Alright, how about that first kiss??? 🥴 Honestly, it got me blushing while editing that whole sequence.

And before y’all burn me at the stake for blue-balling you yet again–I promise you the next chapter will pick up where we left off and it won’t be some weird time-skip. Promise! ✋ Hehe. You need to wait for it a little bit though because the next chapter is only at 10% right now and work is gonna be pretty hectic for the next three weeks.

For now, let your imagination go buck wild, and don’t forget to leave me an ask or shout at me in the comments if you want to see anything specifically in the next chapters.

Also y’all have to thank this one lovely anon who requested for more time before scootergate, because initially it was gonna happen the Monday after this night. The horror!!

Thank you again for reading this, you lovely human! 😘 See you in the comments. ⬇️

Chapter Five >

Taglist: @glossdebut @kam9404 @mar-lo-pap @nnybtitts08 @granataepfelchen

@perfectiondazesworld @wobblewobble822 @yoongznme @caressesurloceanlove @rinkud

@kayleefriedchicken @jajabro @tinytan-gerine @xxbibin1208 @forevercarpediem227

@yoongicatagenda @someshinesomedont @marnz1990 @iheartshopping @confidentjus

@queenbloody @whydoeyecare @sadroses98 @curlyquennn

@sexytholland @kiki-zb @hiddlestandom @babyarmybabbles

[lacunazai]

Do you have any fluffy Dazai in love headcanons you'd like to share?

ABSOLUTELY I DO !!! ( some of these are obviously x reader others are just. general hcs )

dazai obviously absolutely adores cuddling. it can't be a headcanon post without mentioning how he clings to you whenever he can get his grubby hands on you. he's a little like a big dog if you squint - you can sit anywhere and even if he's not supposed to fit in your lap , damn we'll hes crawling into it and nestling himself into your chest regardless.

he likes sharing meals with you too. he's always had problems with eating, everyone knows that. but with you? something about the joint effort gives him that extra push. maybe it's the excitement behind preparing the meal, maybe its how he enjoys reading your expression on what restaurants you want when you're ordering takeout. or maybe it's the quiet praise you give him when he's eaten more then usual. whatever it is, it's a good motivator to get him to eat anything.

he figets with anything. any necklaces or jewellery you're wearing are basically toys to him. dazai adores listening to you ramble while he plays with the loose threads of your shirt, fiddling with your hand while you talk about whatever hell you'd been dealing with lately. he adores your voice, and something about the closeness and how he can keep his hands busy makes it all so much better. it helps him focus on anything other then his mind.

he likes going on walks, this might seem pretty basic. but sometimes hearing the birdsong and feeling the breeze on his cheeks sways him away from finding any new suicide methods to attempt while out there. the scent in the air as he passes a bakery, when he decides to give himself a little treat. seeing things in the window he knows his coworkers would like. things like that .

on the subject of coworkers, dazai likes to leave little gifts around for you and members of the agency. he doesn't credit himself for them at all - but sometimes there's a new pen on kunikidas desk that dazai doesn't annoy him into snapping as fast. sometimes there's a lint roller on atsushis desk , because he knows how bad white cat hair is on black trousers. sometimes there's stacks of candy on ranpos desk, ones he'd been rambling about wanting to try for months. little things like that.

whenever its cold outside he has a habit to share pockets with you. gently taking your hand in his and pulling it into the pocket of his trenchcoat, chuckling when you ask him what he's doing and simply kissing the top of your head as an answer. proximity is everything to him - if you couldn't tell already.

dazai gets really sleepy around you easily. he feels a LOT safer around you , and as a result he doesn't mind it as much when he finds himself drifting to sleep when he's laying in your lap after a long day. he knows you won't hurt him, he knows nothing bad will happen to him when hes unconcious. so he allows himself to close his eyes and snuggle that little bit closer.

[primrosebow]

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

//

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

[resident-gay-bitch]

🐈‍⬛ Trick or Treat 🐈‍⬛

Little Steddie + Stobin meet cute; Eddie and Robin decide they must take Steve trick-or-treating, and they absolutely must make him their friend (a really special friend in Eddie's case) - fluffy! (5.5 k words)

This was all inspired by this tweet. It was so heartbreaking and upsetting I just had to fix it :)

🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃

Steve hasn’t celebrated Halloween since he was five. Not properly, anyway. Hasn't dressed up, or gone trick or treating even once since then. And he’s ten now, almost eleven. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he misses going trick or treating. His mummy used to take him, until she stopped being home as much, and his babysitters could never be bothered. 

He used to love dressing up, it was his favorite part. Liked to talk to the other kids in the street and play spooky games. But he’ll probably never do that again. 

It’s probably stupid anyway. Steve’s double digits now, and his dad says that makes him a man, and men aren’t supposed to get sad about stupid things like Halloween. 

Besides, his mum says candy’s bad for him. It will make his teeth fall out and his tummy fat, and his mum really hates that stuff. 

Steve’s grown up knowing to always believe her, but he sees kids at school eating candy all the time, and they still have all their teeth and aren’t fat. Even his teacher eats candy, and offers a bowl of it around every holiday. 

But Steve never eats it. His mom will be upset with him if she finds out. 

But Steve’s a big boy, he can handle himself now. He’s got a bowl of sweets sitting by the door, eyeing him off and he’s trying his best not to eat one, because it’s for the trick or treaters. 

The little kids, the ones his age, the older ones, and even some parents. 

Steve pretends he’s not disappointed when they show off their awesome costumes that their moms made for them. He pretends he’s fine, he’s becoming a man, he shouldn’t care about kid things like Halloween. 

He gets up when there’s another knock on the door, what feels like the millionth one of the night, and finds three people waiting there all dressed in cool costumes. 

There’s a girl with freckles, short brown hair, and she’s done it all messy, dressed up like a scarecrow with a glowing lightbulb on the top of her head. She looks awesome, even has makeup on her face and real pieces of straw sticking out in random places. 

There’s a boy beside her, with big brown eyes sweet like the chocolate Steve’s giving out, with long hair like a mane with golden shimmers of tinsel through it. He’s dressed like a lion, a showy badge on his chest, and he roared when Steve opened the door. 

Behind them is an adult, probably their dad or something, dressed in grey with silver all over him, a funnel wrapped in foil on his head, a big red heart stitched into his shirt, and he’s holding a lead that’s got a little black cat on the end of it, with bows around its collar. 

They’re dressed as The Wizard Of Oz, Steve thinks, and they look awesome. Steve wishes he had friends or family to go trick or treating with. All he’s got is Mrs. Delores, from across the street to look after him tonight, and she’s been asleep on the couch since five o’clock. She’d never take him anyway, says Halloween is for the energised, whatever that means. 

“Cool costumes!” Steve says, puts on the brightest smile he can muster, just like his mom taught him. He grabs the candy bowl and holds it out for them to stuff their pillow cases with, “I love Wizard Of Oz— isn’t Toto a dog though?” 

“Yeah, but Eddie only has a cat.” The girl answers as the boy digs through the bowl, clearly looking for something specific, “I think she’s crazy enough to be a dog though! Makes the funniest noises ever.”

“Yeah, she’s the funniest.” The lion boy giggles, waggles the Milky Way he found in the air, “She’s crazy too, I found her by the quarry one day, and Wayne said I can keep her.”

Steve thinks the tin man is Wayne, gives the man a smile and offers the candy bowl to him, which he politely declines. 

“That’s cool, I’m not allowed pets. Especially strays, mom says they’re filthy.” 

“Cthulhu is filthy, but she doesn’t stink more than Eddie!” The girl teases, already eating a caramel treat, chocolate all over her mouth. 

Eddie punches her in the arm hard, “I don’t stink! Cthulhu is the best kitty in the world.” He bends down, picking the cat up under the arms and snuggling her, and she hisses and squeaks at him, “Aren’t you Cthulhu? You’re the best kitty cat in the world.” 

Cthulhu meows and puts her paw on Eddie’s face, and Steve laughs. He’s always wanted a pet, loves them so much. He Loves all animals. 

“Can I pet her?”

Eddie looks up at him from his snuggle with Cthulhu and arches his eyebrow, “Perhaps.” 

“Oh, lord.” The man mutters to himself behind them, and it seems like maybe Steve shouldn’t have asked. 

“Eddie’s very protective of Cthulhu because she’s a scared cat. She was really sick when we found her! So small you could see her ribs, it was so sad!” The girl informs him, very eager to teach, “She’s just a poor little kitty, and only loves me and Eddie and Wayne and no one else.” 

“It’s true, she bites people you know? If they get too close.” Eddie says ominously, holding onto Cthulhu like she’s a precious treasure that Steve is trying to steal, “One time Nash from across the trailer park tried to feed her tuna and she bit a chunk out of his hand! It was so funny, there was blood everywhere. He screamed so loud, the stupid fuck-“

“Language.” The man said, glaring at Eddie. 

“Uh, I mean, the stupid wimp.” 

“It’s true, did you know?” The girl nodded as she spoke, nodded so much Steve thought her head would fall off, “We hate Nash, he’s so mean.” 

“I would maybe let you pet her, if she likes you, which she probably won’t because she doesn’t like anyone except for us.” Eddie said, scratching Cthulhu behind the ear to make her purr, giving her little kisses to make her smile, “But, you must also pass the test.”

“What test?” Steve asked, curious now. He’d really like to pet Cthulhu, if she’d let him. 

“First, you have to swear to never, ever be mean to an animal ever.” The girl said. 

Then dramatically, Eddie added in, “Second, you have to swear allegiance to Robin and I forever and ever, which also means you swear allegiance to all underdogs by proxy-“

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Steve mutters, ashamed of himself. He’s been doing really bad at school lately, he knows he’s dumb, his dad tells him all the time. 

“Ed, remember not everyone reads Tolkien by the time they’re eight.” 

“Right.” Eddie nods, smiles up at Steve, “Uh, it means you have to swear to at least be nice to us always, like, friendly! No bullying us or being rude or anything. And also the same goes for every nerd or weird kid.” 

“Yeah, you can’t be mean to weird kids ever.” 

“Are you weird kids?” Steve asked, looking them over. He doesn’t think they’re weird, he thinks they’re cool, they have the coolest costumes he’s seen all night, they put a lot of effort into them. 

“The weirdest ever, actually.” Eddie states, nodding like he’s proud of it. 

Robin, the girl, nods in agreement. 

“Okay.” Steve shrugs, “I don’t care if people are weird, you have cool costumes.” 

“That’s really nice, thanks!” Robin says, but Eddie gives him a funny look. 

“Where’s your costume? And why aren’t you trick or treating? Are you sick or something?”

“Uhm, I just don’t want to.” Steve lies, he feels stupid because he wants to cry. 

“Oh, okay, weird.” Eddie says and stands again, keeps Cthulhu in his arms and Robin leans over to pet her too, “The third rule is that you have to give us an extra candy bar-“

“That’s not one of the rules?” Robin intervenes, clearly confused by this, which Steve finds funny. 

“Shh!” Eddie hisses, “Come on, it’s Halloween, it’s a special extra holiday rule.” 

“I don’t think that’s fair.”

“It’s just one extra candy bar. Besides, would you prefer stupid Jason come by and steal an extra one like he did at the last house?” 

“No.” Robin admits and turns to Steve, “Okay, yeah, an extra candy bar.” 

“And also, the last rule is-“

“You have to stand on one foot and hop on the spot and sing Soft Kitty!” 

“Hey, I wanted to say that part.” Eddie groans at her. 

“You always say that part.” Robin bickers back, and Eddie starts to sulk. 

Steve wishes he had friends like that. 

“Do you agree with the rules?” Robin asks, and Steve nods. 

“Sure.” He says. 

“Okay, fine.” Eddie said, snapping out of his hunch to grin at Steve again, “But don’t be offended if she doesn’t like you. She hates everyone. She was even scared of us for the first few days!” 

“Yeah, it’s true.” Robin agrees, watching Eddie set Cthulhu down, taking the leash from the older man, “She’s such a poor little kitty. Eddie, show him the scars you have! I can’t or it will stuff up my costume.” 

“Oh, yeah!” Eddie grins, shoving the sleeves up his arms to reveal an array of tiny bites and scratches, “Gnarly, huh?”

“I thought he had rabies! I was so scared, but it’s okay, we all got a rabies shot.” 

“Yeah, I almost passed out, I hate needles.” 

“It was really funny, the nurses had to give him three lollipops to stop him crying-“

“Hey! Don’t tell him that, he won’t think I’m cool.” Eddie punches her again. Robin punches him back. 

“He probably already thinks you’re not cool, Eddie. Everyone thinks you’re not cool, and he’s rich.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie mutters, shrugs like he no longer cares, loosens Cthulhu’s lead a little, “Anyway, just don’t take it personally if she tries to kill you or anything, she especially doesn’t like mean people or rich people. She only likes freaks and weirdos I think, ‘cause we’re like her, you know? She’s a good cat like that. So yeah, just don’t like, get upset if she hates—“

They all stop and stare when Cthulhu wanders over the threshold to Steve’s house, looking up at him with her tail in the air as she goes. She walks right up to Steve, rubs her face against his shin and weaves between his legs, stretching out and laying on his fluffy slipperd feet. 

Behind them, the older man snickers, and Eddie glares back at him. 

He takes a few steps away to catch his breath as he laughs, muttering as he goes, “Spoke too soon, boy, what’d I tell ya?” 

Eddie growls and looks back at Cthulhu like she’s betrayed him. Robin is just smiling, which is nice, she has a very happy smile. 

“I think she likes him, Eddie.” Robin says, and Eddie growls again. 

“So, can I pet her?” Steve asks.

“You have to do the ritual.” Eddie says with sass, like it’s a challenge, like Steve won’t do it, “Swear kindness to all animals.” 

“Obviously, I love animals.” Steve said with a frown. 

“That one’s easy, you’d be a total psycho if you didn’t!” 

“Okay, swear you’ll never be mean to an outcast or a weirdo.” Robin said. 

“Okay— but what about if a weirdo is mean to me first? Can I be mean back?” He asked, because the rules seemed a little biassed. 

“Eh, makes sense.” Robin nodded, “What do you think, Eddie?” 

“I agree. Not like a weirdo would ever be mean to a rich kid.” He said, shrugging. 

Steve arched his eyebrow at the boy, put his hands on his hips unimpressed, “I swear it, idiot.” 

“Hey, you can’t—“

“You said I can, if you’re mean first.” 

“I’m not— Wayne! Stop laughing at me!” Eddie huffed back at the man, facing Steve again, he said, “I’m not mean to you.” 

“You are. You said Cthulhu would probably hate me cause I’m rich. I’m not even rich, I just live here.” 

Beside him, Robin nodded, “You are kinda mean sometimes, Eddie.” 

Eddie looked like a fish out of water. The old man was still laughing, hunched over from it now. 

“We can call it even, if you’re nice to me from now on.” Steve states, holding out his hand in an offer. 

Eddie looks at his hand and considers it, looks back at Steve and sighs, “I’m sorry, okay, you're right. We can call it even.” 

Steve smiles and solidifies the shake, wondering why his stomach goes all fluttery. 

“Three!” Robin interrupts, literally leaning over to get between them, “Extra candy bar.” 

Steve smiles and lets them both have at it again, holding it steady as they aggressively rifle through the bowl in hunt of their desired treasure. Robin eats half of hers again when she gets it, drops the other half in her pillow case. 

“And the dance!” Eddie chimes in, carefully placing his sweet in the sack, “For a whole minute.” 

“How am I supposed to hop on one foot when Cthulhu is laying on my slippers?” 

“Uh, that’s a good point, Eddie. You know Cthulhu hates being disturbed.” Robin whispers, like she’s scared she’ll suddenly wake the sleeping kitty. 

Eddie pouts, looking down at the animal to come up with an answer. It takes him a while. Steve comes up with one first. 

He grabs the bowl of sweets again and dumps half in Robin's sack, and the other half in Eddie’s. A trade, extra candy so he doesn’t have to do the dance. 

“Awesome!” Robin grins, beaming down at her loot. 

“What about your leftovers?” Eddie asks, looking sadly at the big empty bowl, “You won’t have any leftovers! And you’re not trick or treating, so how would you get chocolate?” 

“It’s okay, mom doesn’t really like when I eat chocolate. Says it will make my teeth fall out—“

“Ah! Is that true?” Robin asks, her mouth full of melted chocolate again. She looks back at the man in fear, “Wayne! Are my teeth gonna fall out?”

“No.” He says, stern and sharp, “My mama used to tell me the same thing. You’re supposed to have treats, you’re a kid.” 

Oh, Steve thinks to himself, he’s a kid. 

“Oh, thank goodness.” Robin huffs and keeps munching away. 

“Here.” Eddie smiles, and he’s got a handful of candy bars taken from his pillow case, holding them out to Steve, “You deserve some chocolate too!” 

Steve blushes and takes the sweets, can’t find the Strength to protest when he really, really wants it. He stashes them in his pockets and tells himself not to forget about them. 

“Do you want some more?” Eddie asks, “I know how it feels to have no candy on Halloween, it sucks. I never got to trick-or-treat when I was little, my dad couldn’t be bothered and my mama was always sick.”

Steve frowns, looks at the boy and doesn’t even get another word in before Eddie’s reaching over and stuffing another handful of chocolate into Steve’s other pocket. He gives it a firm pat, stands up straight again, and smiles. 

Steve doesn’t know what to do. 

He thinks he’d like to be friends with these kids. 

“Can I pet your cat now?” He asks, too scared to say anything else. His dad says he’s too much of a wimp these days, and needs to man up. 

“Of course.” Eddie smiles, nods his head. 

Steve crouches down, careful not to move his feet and disturb the kitty, and he strokes from her head down her back until she purrs. She purrs so much her whole body starts to vibrate, it makes the three of them laugh. 

“She’s so cute, huh?” Robin asks, crouched down too to watch. 

“She’s the best kitty cat ever.” Eddie agrees, reaching to scratch under her chin with a finger, and Cthulhu smiles and tries to bite his finger, “No silly! I’m not a Halloween candy.” 

“She’s so soft.” Steve muses, can’t stop petting her, “She’s so cute.” 

“Super cute.” 

“The cutest!” Robin shouts, slaps a hand over her mouth when she realises how loud she was. 

“I wish I had a cat.” Steve sighs. 

“You can visit her sometimes, if you like?” Eddie asks, his cheeks all red for some reason, “Wayne doesn’t mind if I have friends at the trailer, and it would be mean to keep Cthulhu from her new best friend.” 

“You mean it?” Steve asks, feels himself smiling so wide his cheeks get warm, “For real?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie nods, gets very nervous when he says, “And… and maybe we could play, or something?” 

Steve nods his head, he hasn’t had a friend to play with since Tommy decided they were too cool for make believe, “Yes please.”

“You probably won’t want to if you’re cool and not a weirdo.” Robin says, doesn’t even look up as she speaks, too busy petting Cthulhu, “Eddie likes weird games, he always makes me be the dragon he has to fight and slay.” 

“I thought you liked being the dragon? You make such good dragon noises.” 

“Of course I do.” Robin huffs, looking over at him, “But he might not like being a dragon.” 

“Well he wouldn’t be the dragon, ‘cause you’re always the dragon.”

“We’ll, maybe he won’t want to be the knight either!” 

“I’m always the knight.” Eddie huffed and turned to Steve, wearing a very determined glare, “What do you want to be when we play fantasy? You could be the horse, but that’s probably boring. Or I suppose you could be the princess I rescue, because Cthulhu is always the princess. You can’t be the evil troll because Wayne’s really good at being grumpy. Or you can be something new if you like?” 

“I can be anything.” Steve shrugged, “I’ve never played fantasy before. It sounds fun.” 

“It’s so fun!” Robin grinned, “Maybe you could be the prince and Eddie can rescue you too!” 

“I’m really good at rescuing.” Eddie stated. 

“Okay.” Steve smiled, “Whatever you guys want.” He says, because he’s excited enough they want him there at all, he would play the tree if they wanted. 

“Cool.” Eddie grinned, totally delighted by this. 

“Thanks for letting me pet your cat.” Steve said, knowing he shouldn’t keep them any longer. They have more trick-or-treating to get too, and the man taking them is probably bored. “I think your costumes are really cool and creative.” 

“Thanks, we made them ourselves, Eddie’s really good at sewing and painting!” Robin grinned. 

“Well, Wayne had to help with the sewing machine. And Robin did all the decorations.” 

“That’s so cool.” Steve grinned, the words toppling out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “I wish I knew how to make costumes, my mom never makes me costumes, I miss trick-or-treating.” 

“I thought you said you didn’t feel like it?” Robin asked, and Steve stared at her, caught red. 

“Why doesn’t your mom make your costumes?” Eddie asked, looking so terribly sad about it, “Why don’t you go trick-or-treating? Is your mummy sick too?” 

Embarrassed, Steve shook his head, eyes averted to the ground as he shamefully admitted, “My parents don’t really care about this stuff, they say it’s for kids, and it’s silly. They’re never home anyway.” 

“But you are a kid.” Robin says, confused. 

Steve feels that harshly for the second time tonight. 

“I think your parents are stupid.” Eddie says flatly, and Steve thinks he’s awesome. 

“Eddie!” The older man snaps from behind, “That’s not very nice now, come on.” 

“But it’s true.” Eddie huffs, “Your parents sound like they suck. My dad sucked too. He’s in prison, you know, cause he sucks.” 

“Eddie really doesn’t like his dad.” Robin said, still crouched down to pet Cthulhu, not looking up at them as she spoke. 

Quietly, for the first time ever, Steve admitted something back, “I don’t like my dad either.” 

Eddie smiled at him, held up his hand in this strange symbol, his pinky and pointer finger extended whilst the others were folded. 

“What’s that?” 

“Metal.” Eddie said, a cool smile as he nodded. And Steve had no idea what metal means, but he makes the symbol back and smiles, because Eddie seems to think it’s cool, so it must be. 

“Cool.” 

“Do you want to come trick or treating with us?” He asks, and Steve thinks yes, but holds himself back. 

“Oh, yeah, please come!” Robin grins, up and jumping on the spot now. 

“We don’t even have a Dorothy.” Eddie says, “We don’t even have the main character!” 

“I told you to be Dorothy.” Robin tells him, “You have the perfect hair for it.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to wear my lion costume again. It saved more time! We had to spend all our time making your costume!” 

Robin shrugged and looked back at Steve, “Do you wanna be Dorothy?” 

“Isn’t she a girl?” 

“So.” Eddie shrugged, “I think Toto’s a boy, and Cthulhu is pretending to be him— and Robins being a boy scarecrow. It’s just a costume.” 

“But she wears a dress. I don’t have a dress.” 

“You can be a boy Dorothy if you like?” Robin answers. 

“Or, you can be a girl Dorothy in pants.” Eddie adds on, “And I’m really good at making costumes, I bet I can help you come up with something cool. And then you can walk Cthulhu all night if you like, ‘cause Toto is Dorothy’s pet!” 

Steve does like the sound of going trick-or-treating with these guys. And he really likes the sound of hanging out with Cthulhu all night, she’s such a cute kitty, still sleeping on his slippers. 

Steve worries his lip and looks at the old man past them, wondering if he’ll tell Steve to stay home for wanting to dress up like a girl. 

“You’re welcome to join if you want, kid, I’ll just need to talk to whoever’s lookin’ after ya.” 

Steve is sort of scared to wake Mrs. Deloris, she’s a real hag when she’s grumpy. 

But, he’d like to go trick-or-treating even more. And this might be his only ever chance. 

”I’d really like to.” Steve says, and the three of them seem happy with his answer. 

Eddie dives down and grabs Cthulhu so Steve can move, which is a big mistake because she starts hissing and trying to scratch Eddie’s face, and he screams, the old man and Robin have to intervene. 

Steve rushes over to Mrs. Delores to wake her with a fright, and he tells her his plans, doesn’t ask, and she gets up in a grump to go talk to the man at the door. 

When Steve makes it back to them, Eddie’s got a bloody scratch on his cheek, but he doesn’t seem to mind it, he’s still holding Cthulhu as she naps in his arms, and he kisses her between the ears adoringly. 

“I wouldn’t know how to make a Dorothy costume.” Steve says, and this seems to excite Eddie and Robin. 

“Can we come in? We’ll help!” Eddie asks. 

“And your house is so big.” Robin wonders, leaning forward to inspect the inside, “I’ve never been in a house this big before.” 

“Me either.” Eddie muses, “Do you have a hot tub?”

Steve leads them inside, and up the stairs, “No, but I have a pool.” 

“Cool!” Eddie grins. 

“Do you have a cinema?” 

“No.” Steve giggles, “Of course not.” 

“Do you have two bathrooms?” Eddie asks.

Steve furrows his brow at the weird question, “Uh, yeah— or three if you count the extra toilet.”

“Woah!” The two say in unison, their eyes wandering around Steve’s house as they walk. 

“That’s so cool.” Eddie says.

“I’ve always wanted two bathrooms. My dad gets pee all over the toilet seat, and me and mom hate it.” Robin adds, and Steve decides to laugh, because Eddie is. 

He thought everyone had two bathrooms. He’s never shared one with his parents. That seems so strange. He’s not even allowed in his parents bathroom, they get so mad at him if he goes in there. 

He leads the pair into his bedroom and they go right for his wardrobe, diving right in without asking. Not that Steve cares, he thinks they’re so nice, and he’s excited to have more friends. 

They’re talking amongst themselves, chattering and chattering, agreeing and disagreeing. 

“Would you wear a skirt?” Eddie turns around to ask. 

“I don’t have a skirt.” Steve says back. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I guess.” Steve shrugged, “But it’s too cold for a skirt! It’s windy outside.” 

“He’s got a point.” Robin says, and Eddie nods. 

“Will your dad be mad if we cut up one of his shirts?” 

Steve’s eyes widened, he think his dad would definitely mind. But, he’s not home, won’t be for another week at least. Besides, he might not even notice, if Steve hides the evidence.  

He shakes his head no. 

“Does he have a blue button up?” 

Steve nods, knows he does. He has like, a billion of them. 

He races to go get one, finding one that’s got little blue and white checkers all over it, thinking it would be perfect for Dorothy. When he shows it to Eddie, he’s excited, says it’s perfect. 

Robin hands Steve a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and tells him to change into them whilst they work on the dress. Steve rushes to change in the bathroom, can’t wait, he’s so excited. 

By the time he comes back out, the sleeves of his dads shirt have been cut off, and the collar removed to make straps instead, and Eddie’s making Steve put it on, and it’s long, like a dress. He’s cut one of the sleeves to make a belt, ties it around Steve’s waist with a bow, and Robin ties the other on his head. 

He’s still got his slippers on, which they decide are perfect, because they’re fuzzy red Elmo slippers, just like Dorothy’s shoes. Steve hasn’t felt this cool in a long time, he likes how creative Eddie and Robin are. 

He half expects to be told off when they get back down, yapping away to Cthulhu about the next houses they’re gonna hit, but the old man doesn’t mind that Steve’s in a dress. 

In fact, he compliments him, “Cool costume, looks just like the movie, kid.” He says, waves them all out the door, “Come on, it’s getting late and I have to have you home by ten.” 

“Quick!” Eddie says, putting Cthulhu down and letting Steve take her lead, “We’ve got so many more houses to get to.” 

“Wait! Dorothy doesn’t- wait, what’s your name?” Robin asks, and Steve feels silly for not having introduced himself. 

“Oh, it’s Steve.” He says, walking down the steps, Cthulhu right beside him. 

“That’s cool, I’m Robin, and he’s Eddie.” Robin said, “We’re best friends, we take art class together.” 

“Wow, you do art?” Steve asks, “I like colouring.” 

“Colouring is cool.” Eddie smiled, five steps ahead of everyone else, “I like drawing best. I draw monsters mostly.” 

“They’re so creepy.” Robin giggles, “It’s for his nerd game he likes. Watch out, he’ll probably make you try and play it. It’s so confusing.” 

“It’s not confusing. It’s just roleplay! It’s called Dungeons and Dragons, and it’s the coolest game in the world.” 

“Sounds fun.” Steve says, even though the dungeon part worries him. 

“What were you gonna say before, Robin?” Eddie asked, “You seemed so worried.” 

“Oh, uhm, I can’t- Steve doesn’t have a pillowcase!” She gasped, turning to Steve. 

“Oh no.” He said, looking back at his house, already a block away now. 

“It’s okay!” Eddie said, running back to them, “Steve can share mine, we’ll split all my candy down the middle since you missed so much. Come on, that house always has the best stuff.” He says, grabbing Steve by the wrist and pulling him along to run. 

Steve lets him, giggling as the three of them run through the street up to the house. His skin tingles where Eddie holds it, which is strange, but he doesn’t mind. It’s sort of nice. Eddie is really nice. 

“Come on.” He says, shoving Steve to the grand front door of the house they’re at, “You should do the honours, Steve, since you haven’t in ages! Come on, come on!” 

Nervously, Steve lifts his hand and rings the doorbell. And when the woman answers the door, he grins, and shouts, “Trick-or-treat!” Louder than he should have. 

The three get their fill of candy and head away to the next house, playing with Cthulhu as they go, comparing which chocolates are their favourites. 

Eddie says his favourites are milky ways, Steve says they’re his favourites too, and Eddie’s cheeks go red again at the fact. 

They manage to hit fifteen more houses before Steve has to go home, and Eddie’s pillow case is so full they decide to carry it together, so it’s not too heavy. 

They sit on the floor by the open door to divvy it out, Robin sits beside them eating more of her candy. Mrs. Delores comes out to flirt with Wayne, who Steve learned is Eddie’s uncle that he lives with, and apparently a lot of old ladies flirt with him. 

They split the chocolates clean down the middle, having an even amount in the bag. And Steve’s excited, because he’s got five milky ways, can’t wait to eat them. Eddie’s got six, at Steve’s insistence as payment for making his costume. 

At the last minute, when they’re scooping their treats back into Eddie’s pillow case and the candy bowl by Steve’s door, he remembers the pocketed treats from before, and races away to get them. He quickly divvys them between him and Eddie, gives the extra one to Wayne as a thank you, and says goodbye to his new friends. Especially Cthulhu. 

“Remember you have to come visit.” Eddie says sternly, watching Steve snuggle the cat, “Cthulhu will get depressed without you.” 

“Promise.” Steve nods. 

“Maybe you can come on Saturday! And maybe Tuesdays after five o'clock! And also Wednesdays after school, and Fridays too—“

“That’s when Robin comes over to my house. We hang out a lot.” 

“We’re best friends.” Robin nods. 

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I can come after school on Wednesday.” 

“Okay!” They both shout in unison. 

“Bye, Steve!” Robin shouts, beginning to hop down the steps, “See you around.” 

“Come here, kitty kitty.” Eddie says, tries to grab Cthulhu but she doesn’t let him. Hisses at Eddie and snuggles against Steve. Eddie looks very betrayed again, “Cthulhu! I said come here.” 

She just meowed. 

Steve laughed, handed her back over to Eddie with a little fight and apologised, “Sorry, Cthulhu. We’ll have to cuddle another time.” 

“She really loves group cuddles, you know.” Eddie blurts out, looks embarrassed again, “Just so you know.” 

Steve smiles, thinking he might like a group cuddle with them some time, “Okay.” He’s got butterflies again. 

“Okay.” 

Eddie’s so nice. 

“I’m gonna go now.” He mutters, “But you can come play whenever— not just when Robin’s there, okay?” 

“Okay.” Steve smiled again. It’s all he can do, really. 

“Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Eddie.” 

Eddie blushes and ducks his head, waving as he turns away, “I think you look nice, by the way, in your costume. Blue looks really nice on you.” 

Steve blushes too, “Thanks, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just bounces away, catching up to his uncle who’s holding Robin's hand as they walk. Steve watches them walk away, stands silently at the door with a fuzzy feeling in his stomach. 

Wayne scruffs Eddie’s head as they walk away, “Steve seems nice.” He says, sounds like he’s teasing. 

Eddie hunches his shoulders up, glances back at Steve and looks away again immediately, grits out, “Shut up.” 

“What’s going on?” Robin asks, leaning into Eddie’s space. 

“Nothing!—“

“Eddie thinks Steve’s nice.” 

Eddie groans, and Steve doesn’t understand why that’s such a big deal. Steve is nice, isn’t he? 

Isn’t he? 

“Ohh!” Robin muses, skips a few steps ahead and starts singing as the reach the street, “Eddie and Steve, sitting in the tree—“

“Shhh! He’s gonna hear you.” 

“K. I. S. S. I. N. G—“

“I’m gonna kill you!” Eddie groaned, running straight for her. 

Robin erupted in giggles, running away down the street, into the night.  

Steve closes the door and looks down at his bowl of candy, can’t help himself, just wants one before bed. He goes to grab a Milky Way, and something catches his attention. 

He’s supposed to have five. But there are— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven in the bowl. 

Eddie snuck Steve all of his, even though they’re his favourites. 

Steve can’t wait to hang out with his new friends Robin and Eddie. 

Especially Eddie. 

Steve doesn’t think he’s gonna have a lonely Halloween ever again. 

[sci-twi]

I think the most tragic part of Eurylochus’ part in Epic is that his one act of true selfishness (or two acts) are what condemns him not only in the eyes of Odysseus but also most of the audience. Warning: spoilers for all sagas of Epic: The Musical below the cut, up through Thunder Saga.

He’s introduced in the musical in Full Speed Ahead by mentioning wanting to find food to feed the rest of the men of the crew. In the same song, he grows defensive immediately after suspecting a lurking threat, suggesting that they take an offensive approach. He just wants to find what they can (to eat) on the island and keep going so they can all return to their families.

In Polyphemus, his only line in the entire song is him giving credit to Odysseus and Polites for finding the cave and takes note that there are enough sheep to feed everyone.

I have no doubt that he’s fighting along with everyone else in Survive.

But he shows his concern for the others in Remember Them. He is the one who snaps Odysseus out of the brief dissociation he experiences following the slaughter of a handful of his men. He also asks Odysseus what they should do with their “fallen friends.” Of course, we know that if people weren’t buried correctly, they were doomed to an eternity of unrest.

He’s worried about the souls of those men that they lost and is (most likely) not happy about having leave them behind and neglecting such an important ritual.

When Polyphemus awakens after being stabbed in the eye and it becomes apparent that there are more cyclopses in the cave, Eurylochus gets even more concerned and antsy, even pleading with Odysseus for them to just run before things get worse and they lose even more men.

In Storm, Eurylochus’ lines are all about expressing concern for their fleet (although a little pessimistic) and their well-being.

Luck Runs Out is personally one of my favorites and one of the most obvious signs that almost everything Eurylochus does is for the sake of their crew. The entire song is about him looking out for everyone else including Odysseus. “You could be caught off guard and lose your life. Or piss off this guard and infuse us with strife.”

It’s also important to note that the chorus has Eurylochus and the crew singing in unison. Eurylochus expresses his doubts but not because he wants power or to just get under Odysseus’ skin, but because he genuinely cares about everyone on board and just wants to make sure they’re making the right decisions.

And honestly, as a second-in-command, he should get some say or consultation and perhaps this song is him starting to realize that he is not being heard.

“I just don’t want to see another life end. You’re like the brother I could never do without.”

“And suddenly you doubt that I could figure this out?”

This right here is where it becomes apparent to me how dedicated Eurylochus is to Odysseus and the crew. And I can only imagine how he feels after pouring his heart out to only be met Odysseus’ indignant response. Eurylochus wasn’t trying to challenge Odysseus’ authority, but his response is defensive regardless.

Eurylochus switches from referring to him as brother back to referring to him as Captain, maybe sensing that sort of division, maybe sensing that he overstepped in some way. But still, he reiterates his concerns once more before Odysseus pulls him aside.

When Odysseus tells him that he needs to always be devout and comply with whatever he says and tells him to do or else they’ll all die, Eurylochus ultimately agrees. The beginning of that reluctance shows.

He doesn’t really have many noticeable lines in Keep Your Friends Close, but I do want to give you some food for thought that my partner and I @cat-gwyn-gunn discussed. Do you think that Eurylochus would have opened the bag of winds if Odysseus entrusted him with it to guard and made it absolutely clear what is inside and what will happen if he does?

How would you feel if you were your captain’s supposed second-in-command who had led the fight with you and stood by your side for 12 years suddenly came back from a god with a mysterious bag and guards it while staying awake for 9 entire days? Does that not show a severe lack of trust in your crew and would that not make you suspicious? Do you think maybe Eurylochus was sort of egged on by the crew who also thought it was treasure to check?

It’s hard to really put yourself into their shoes because we know how things end and we know that the storm is actually trapped in the bag, but they don’t.

Then, Poseidon comes in Ruthlessness. And Eurylochus sees all those men die. They went from 600 men to just 43 men. While of course he feels guilty for his decision to open the bag, he’s also hearing confirmation that Odysseus is the reason that Poseidon is after them. He probably remembers begging his Captain to just run and escape, and instead Odysseus proceeds to dox himself and all of that leads to that moment.

But still… that guilt does do something. Because after opening the wind bag, we don’t really hear any sort of defiance from Eurylochus for a long time.

In Puppeteer, we get an even further look at this growing divide between the two brothers (in-law). Eurylochus wants so desperately to let Odysseus know what he did, his tone is remorseful, he’s practically pleading for Odysseus to acknowledge him and reassure him. He is incredibly shaken after what happened with Poseidon.

Only for Odysseus to completely wave him off and send him on a mission. Perhaps it’s because Odysseus needs some time to process what happened and strategize or maybe he thinks Eurylochus is going to talk about it and he’s not ready to hear any of it. Or maybe even he’s jumping to being defensive, thinking Eurylochus is defying him again.

Eurylochus, who promised Odysseus that he’d be devout and compliant, and whose one failure to do so attributed to the loss of hundreds of their men, agrees to do what Odysseus says with little fight. However, his fears and concerns are left unaddressed and unacknowledged and he has not received any sort of reassurance.

While he is recounting his (and the crew’s) encounter with Circe, it shows that he is cautious in his decision to not join their men inside with her. Which pays off, since he gets to run back and let Odysseus know what happened.

When Odysseus says that he has to save them and Eurylochus says that they don’t, it almost sounds dismissive, like those men deserved what happened and they’re no longer their problem. This is a cold take and there’s no defending his callousness with leaving the men behind- I won’t defend it.

However, I will point out that with the next line he points out that they’ve already lost so much and gained almost nothing and once more he suggests that they run if only to preserve what little crew they have left. And again shows concern for Odysseus (or at the very least concern for him as their Captain who can get them home) saying that he doesn’t need to play Circe’s game and asking him if he will leave if she proves too hard to kill.

Notice that he says Odysseus doesn’t have to play her game instead of outright telling him not to. He’s trying so hard to be compliant because he just saw what happens when he isn’t.

He might also be wanting to avoid being responsible for even more bloodshed and loss even if slightly.

Eurylochus doesn’t really have any more parts to play during the rest of the Circe saga and throughout the entirety of the Underworld saga. He’s essentially not only just doing what Odysseus tells him to do but he’s also holding onto all this awful guilt and shame for what he did. 

Underworld is almost entirely Odysseus’ point-of-view. We really just see into his world for this saga. He tells his men that no matter what they find, keep going, yet he falls victim to the voices he hears and the guilt that arises and eventually peaks. We have no idea really what anyone else is thinking. For all we know, Eurylochus is drowning in his own visions. He has all this time to think and reflect.

In Monster, Odysseus comes to the conclusion that he will become the monster, he will do whatever it takes to get home to Penelope and Telemachus. I don’t think it’s a stretch to believe that Eurylochus also comes to the conclusion that he will do whatever it takes to make sure that the crew is taken care of and preserved. This is the beginning of when that line that truly divides them starts to be drawn. 

Different Beast is when it starts to become clearer to the crew and Eurylochus that a change has occurred. They start the song by singing along with Odysseus, using “we” and “us”. Odysseus is driving them all to be monsters. His actions are being reflected on the crew as a whole as their Captain.

Odysseus tells the siren that his actions almost cost his life, no longer reflecting on the crew’s toll as a whole, and that he must see his wife. This is when the crew starts to sing that “he” is the monster. And they end by calling his name- confirming that they are now aware that the monster is Odysseus. Really the only times someone’s name is called is when they’re an opponent like Polyphemus or Poseidon. So foreshadowing!

Scylla is where things take a turn for the worse- it’s where that line is nearly fully drawn between Odysseus and Eurylochus. But it doesn’t start off that way. Scylla begins to sing that “deep down you hide a reason for shame.” Immediately after, Eurylochus admits to being the one to open the wind bag and he apologizes profusely and pleads to be forgiven. 

Odysseus doesn’t respond but Scylla does in a way. She continues to goad Odysseus into believing that his actions are merited. It’s what he must do to survive to see his wife and son again. He has always known this deep down- he said it in Just A Man - deep down he would trade the world to see his son and wife.

The next time Odysseus speaks, he tells Eurylochus to light up six torches. Now, I imagine that this is a moment of great relief for Eurylochus. Even after the awful betrayal, Odysseus still trusts him. Going back briefly to Circe when she says “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road” maybe this (Odysseus showing trust in Eurylochus) was the act of kindness and Eurylochus picks men he trusts and likes to hold the torches as a way to pass on that kindness. 

Then, all hell breaks loose. 

He watches as all of these men are snatched up one by one by Scylla’s six heads. He comes to the realization that Odysseus knew that was going to happen, that he made him actively participate in the murder of six of their men. That he didn’t communicate anything about what he was about to put his crew through. 

Eurylochus knows what he must do. 

In Mutiny, He goes right out and demands Odysseus to tell him that he didn’t not know that would happen which is a far cry from “please don’t tell me you’re about to do what I think you’ll do.” It’s a direct challenge. He spits out the word “Captain” almost mockingly. He continues to prod at Odysseus, telling him to use his wits (when in Luck Runs Out, he said that people die on it). He brings up that every other time they faced someone Odysseus came up with a plan to save his men, but this one time he runs (when before it was Eurylochus who urged him to run with both Circe and Polyphemus). 

He has pretty much lost trust in Odysseus, but still is trying to give him the opportunity to say something, to explain. However, when Odysseus says he can’t Eurylochus says he’s forced his hand. He doesn’t really want to fight Odysseus, let alone kill him. 

Once again, Eurylochus is the voice of the crew. They know now that Odysseus is willing to do absolutely anything to see Penelope again. They attack him. They voice their doubts in him and echo the sentiment that Eurylochus does which is that Odysseus must be stopped. 

When he awakens, and they’re on the island, Eurylochus is the first man he sees and Eurylochus no longer sounds angry. He uses “we” and “us” telling Odysseus that hunger is so heavy in the crew. Voicing their concerns again. Looking out for them again. 

He holds no malice for Odysseus. He’s resigned; he has lost complete hope in returning home. All he wants is to share one last meal with his brother and friend and the crew. 

He switches to just using “I” stating that he is suffering, he is hungry, he is tired. This is one of the first times (if not the first) where he lets it known what his own desires and complaints are. Every other time it’s been on behalf of the crew. He’s being selfish. He knows this, but he’s so overwhelmed and hopeless that he’s willing to make this impulsive decision. 

Odysseus continues to respond to Eurylochus’ pain with only thoughts of himself. He says that he needs to get home, he pleads with just him. But then the crew comes in and echoes Eurylochus’ sentiments. Odysseus addresses the crew this time, switching to “we” can get home. He knows that he’s fighting a losing battle, that the crew is essentially listening to Eurylochus now, that they don’t trust him. 

And with Eurylochus’ action he declares that he’s just a man. He’s selfish. He’s hungry. He’s tired. He’s suffering. He makes mistakes. He can’t always just push through. He’s flawed.

And when Eurylochus hears the panic in Odysseus’ voice (which panic is not something he has shown before: he’s dissociated/been in shock, been angry, and desolate but never panicked) he realizes what he’s done. He immediately reverts back to seeking Odysseus’ guidance as his Captain. He calls for him by his title.

He’s relinquishing control, but it’s too late at this point.

Thunder Bringer closes out their portrayals of betrayal and brother's final stand arc with Zeus rubbing it in Odysseus’ face that his crew’s hunger is his responsibility. That as their King and Captain, he failed them so badly that they resorted to damning themselves to alleviate that hunger. He’s the one who drove them to mutiny. 

Zeus tells him to choose and the crew already knows what he’s going to pick. They realize now that the monster was with them all along, that Odysseus has come full circle to being the true monster. After they sing their piece and Zeus fills Odysseus’ ears with Penelope’s song, there’s a deafening silence as the decision is being made. 

Eurylochus breaks that silence, calling out one more time. He calls for his Captain but in his voice he’s calling out to his friend. He’s scared. He knows they’re going to die. It’s almost like they’re children. He’s making that final reach for reassurance that he already knows he won’t receive. There is nothing but resignation in his voice. 

When Odysseus confirms his choice, saying that he has to see his wife again, all Eurylochus has to say is “but we’ll die.” Again, he’s scared. He was willing to die over the cow, but that was an impulsive decision. It is very different when imminent death is staring you right in the face and especially when it’s at the hand of someone who you thought you knew and cared for. 

I imagine that as the rest of the crew rushes forward to strike Odysseus down, Eurylochus stays behind and just looks him straight in the eye. He knew all along who Odysseus would choose and he has accepted it. 

It comes full circle. Eurylochus came in as the voice of the crew and he died as the voice of the crew.

[doki-doki-imagines]

hello! I am the person who requested that reader with a cat who likes the boys a lot if u remember that request.

may I request (if ur not uncomfortable with it) some period comfort with an afab!reader (they/them pls) just taking care and helping reader with their period? if it's not too much can u also include reader sleeping a lot and craving lots of food (typical ik) and how reader just gets mad rlly easily.

characters: bi-han, syzoth, shang tsung, kenshi, raiden and liu kang

thank u and have a good day :) (smiling through the pain)

author note: I'm super late, but I suppose it's better than never. Hope you'll like these! Link to the cat post

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…He can smell when you are on your period. -Actually Kenshi can even tell when it is coming so he is always ready with food when it finally comes. -He tries to keep your pelvis warm and treat you softly since your body gets sore way more easily. -Kenshi goes a bit insane when you're ovulating, so now he is more calm and soft. -He'll try to make your mean comments slide, but it is hard for him, so it's better not to exaggerate, or Kenshi will snap back.

Raiden: -Really sweet and understand your needs. -But Raiden won't be a sticky boyfriend. He has work to do and won't take a day off. -When he finally understands how this period works for you, he will be prepared for the next one. -Your fave food? Check. Warm beverages? Check. Cover and 3 different kinds of movies to match your current mood? Check. -When Raiden gets home tho he is all for you. He likes to put you in his arms and draw circles on your hand, waiting for you to fall asleep on his chest. -Mean words are nothing to him. A king of taking the hit and making it slide off him.

Liu Kang: -"You bastard! Couldn't you erase menstruation while creating this world?" You whine into his arms, cramps making you curl in his body.

"Would you rather lay eggs, dear one?" Liu Kang replies, with a smile on his face, forefinger lifting your chin up to make you look into his brilliant eyes.

"You are just a meanie." You snap back, pushing his face away from yours, making a laughter blossom in his throat. -He tries not to make you eat too much junk food, but he'll back off when you look at him with fury in your eyes. -His body is better than any cover.

Bi-Han: -I'm sorry, but he would be pretty cold. -He was raised in a way that even if you were dying, you should take care of yourself without the help of anybody, so at max, he'll send your way a doctor. -Bi-Han has to work A LOT on being a normal human. He really doesn't know how to work around normal feelings that are outside his field of work. -And the future grandmaster lessons he has been given as a kid never focused on helping his partner out. It is already much that he decided who to be with. -Bi-Han probably knows very little about how menstruation works, mostly because they taught him not to care about other people and just think about how to be the perfect Lin Kuei's leader. -First work on making him act as a decent human, then Bi-Han will even make you a special tea to make your cramps less painful. -And if you look particularly pitiful he may snuck junk food too…

Syzoth: -The first time he saw you losing blood, he panicked because "Why are you losing blood?!?!" -After you explain how things work, Syzoth will let out a breath of relief. -Surprisingly, he understands pretty well that losing blood is a pain, so he doesn't mind following your order like a butler. -Syzoth is gonna snuggle under the covers with you, btw. -Not used to you being mean tho, even if he understands you aren't fine, he still takes those words personally.

Shang Tsung: -Actually, he'd make a potion to make your cramps fade. -But he doesn't do anything for nothing…are you ready to try his next experiments? Maybe the potion isn't as safe as he says. -Shang Tsung satisfies your cravings, but don't nag too much, or he'll get annoyed. -Also, don't be mean, or he will snap back, then you'll start to cry, and actually Shang Tsung has a weakness: your tears. Then he'll have to try to make you stop, but sadly, another mean word slips…it's an endless cycle that makes him think just "Hope this will end soon."

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

~

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

[vampcubus]

inosuke would absolutelyyy be the type of bf to just gift u rocks randomly. like run over to u, place the rock in ur hand, fold ur fingers over it, then scurry away 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ he’d be even more flattered if u keep every one 🤧

𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, established relationship, gift-giving, warm fuzzies. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 0.8k+

Inosuke almost misses the small thing whilst crossing over a sizable stream. He has to balance his feet on two large boulders and crouch down to reach for it without getting wet. He plunges his hand into the stream and minnows scatter in all directions beneath the rippling water. His fingers close around the small thing and retrieves his treasure with a triumphant grunt.

"What did you find, Inosuke?" Tanjiro inquires softly from the bank, watching curiously as his masked companion fishes something from the stream. The other slayer stiffens like a cat, and claps his hands over the small object, hiding it from view.

"None of your business, Gonpachiro!"

"That's not my name," Tanjiro sighs, but doesn't pry the matter any further.

"Of course it is!" Inosuke huffs, as if it were obvious.

Inosuke hops back onto land, hands cupped and dripping with water. He makes a beeline for the campsite and Tanjiro is quick to protest his departure.

"Inosuke, wait! We're supposed to be looking for... fish." But the other slayer has already disappeared into the trees, and the wine-red-haired boy only smiles, turning his attention back to untangling his net.

You're in the middle of getting a fire going when Inosuke bursts from the trees into the clearing, spooking both you and Zenitsu out of your skin.

"Inosuke! You scared us," you laugh, hand over your heart. Zenitsu glares, but holds his tongue in front of you, returning his attention back to trying to spark a flame. "Did you catch some fish already?"

He and Tanjiro had set off not even ten minutes ago in the direction of the sound of running water. Inosuke was particularly accustomed to gathering resources out here in the forest, but you had to say you'd be impressed if he'd found dinner so quickly!

"Even better than fish!" The boar-headed boy slows to a stop just shy of you and plops down in front of you, hands cupped around something. You have to admit that you're intrigued enough to ignore the growling of your tummy.

"Careful. Could be anything," the other slayer warns, remembering the last time Inosuke chased him around with a salamander. He shivers at the memory.

"Inosuke wouldn't give me anything dangerous, Zenitsu," you assure the blond, holding your hands out to receive whatever he'd found.

"Close your eyes, and no peeking!" He demands.

"Okay," you chuckle, raising a brow but complying. "Not looking."

Inosuke drops something wet and cold into your open palms, and your brows knit. His rough fingers fold your own over the object, and when he removes his own hands you're met with the sight of...

"A... rock?" You're perplexed, but you observe the offering closely, careful not to appear disappointed. You brush a thumb over the stone and are pleasantly surprised by how smooth it is, no doubt polished by years and years of water flowing overtop of it. It's a bit speckled too, like a robin's egg. It's pretty, you concede. "What a nice one too, are you sure you want to give it to me?"

"Mhm!" he grunts, nodding once.

"You ran all the way back here to give them a stupid rock?" Zenitsu grumbles, blowing lightly at the tiny flame he'd managed to spring to life onto a rather moist log. "We have to eat you know!"

"Zenitsu!" you scold, and the blond ducks his head submissively. "Well, I like it. Thank you, Inosuke."

Inosuke lifts his mask just enough to stick his tongue out at the thunder breather, who bristles at the provocation but decides against piping up again. Especially when he realizes you genuinely look pleased with the gesture.

"Of course you like it. I made sure to pick the best one for my beloved underling!" He boasts with his arms crossed over his chest, oozing with pride from your acceptance of his superior gift.

You can't help but grin at his confidence, unbothered by being called an underling. You knew what you truly meant to your unruly lover.

"Here let me put it with the rest."

"The rest of what?" Inosuke scratches his neck, head cocked.

You reach for your bag and dig around in it, retrieving a smaller pouch from inside it. Inosuke scoots closer, until he’s flush against your side, leaning forward to get a better look at the contents as you loosen the drawstrings. His heart jumps at the sight of various trinkets and acorns he'd given to you on previous occasions.

"I keep everything you give me, silly," you snort, adding the impossibly smooth stone to your growing collection of gifts. You swear you hear a muffled sniffle sneak out from under his mask. “They’re important to me.”

Suddenly, he's jumping to his feet again, dashing back into the forest to escape the warm fuzzies collecting in his chest.

[husbandhoshi]

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)  

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> n/a word count -> 2.4k

abstract -> he's perfect how he is... but can maybe change for her.

y/n’s perspective

“Niki, we always do this” I whined as he locked himself in the bathroom. I needed to get him ready for tonight’s party. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t… but with my family pushing me into choosing a major in business, they're making me befriend other kids who are from wealthy families. 

“Please… I don’t want to go alone” I begged but he didn’t respond. It was running late and the driver was gonna be here soon… so I might have to go alone today. 

I gave up trying to convince him and I went to do the final touches. Grabbing a jacket, fixing my makeup, and grabbing everything I needed. 

When I left my room, I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re gonna go with me?” I asked and he nodded. “I can’t let you go on your own” he muttered and I chuckled. “Besides, look at how forgetful you are,” he said as he pulled my hair roller off my bangs. “Oh,” I said genuinely forgetting as he laughed at me. 

“Do you–” “Yes, I have my tail ring on. I’m ready, now let's go before your dad starts calling”

Riki Nishimura was a stray hybrid I met when I was a kid. We were on a vacation trip to Japan when I saw him. I offered him some food I had on me and he took it from me to eat it like he was starved. 

My parents were already wanting to get me a hybrid so I begged them to keep him. In which they reluctantly agreed. However, when we found out he wasn’t a normal black cat hybrid they agreed. 

He was a panther hybrid and has been with me for years. We grew up together… However, my parents never liked how rowdy he was. Even now they tell me to get another hybrid, one that could join me in dinners, parties, and one who is overall more well-behaved. 

I wasn’t gonna let them replace him. He was my best friend, my number one confidant. Besides… who needs a fancy and well-behaved hybrid? Niki was way more fun!

niki’s perspective

It was the same old party they threw with the same kids as their rich human parents and new collectibles. They liked to collect new hybrids where they’d show them off and then throw them away… but not y/n. 

Without her, I probably would still be mistaken for an overgrown cat hybrid on the street. It doesn’t mean I liked being gawked at and set a price on what they’d trade her for me. Of course, she’d never let them... I’ve seen how annoyed and angry she gets and it made me happy she cared so much. 

I cared for her too… She was clumsy and an idiot so she needed someone to take care of her. So I'm here… at a stupid party filled with spoiled rich kids. 

Not to say she isn't spoiled… she is. However, I never questioned that she loved me. She always makes that clear with everything she does for me. 

“Oh! You’re y/n right?” I heard and I saw a girl behind us with what smelled like a bird hybrid. “Mmhm… have we met before?” she asked why I didn’t think so… I would’ve recognized her and her hybrid. “My name–”

I didn’t care what she had to say… I just didn’t like how her hybrid kept on staring at me with those eyes of his. What was his problem?

I was cut off from my thoughts when suddenly the topic of discussion became me… 

“He’s really pretty and exotic too! I just haven’t heard good things about him, you know?” she said and I had to refrain from growling at her. Who was she to talk right in front of my face about me? And to y/n?

“Jay here is well-behaved! He’s from America you know–” Is that supposed to make him impressive? Congrats bird you’re a pet! “–it's just a shame you know. I wanted a bunny or maybe a cat hybrid” she pouted and I could see his disappointed expression. 

“Oh, Niki is really sweet but he’s solitary–” “You should invest in a social hybrid you know?” she cut her off to say. Rude… why would she need another hybrid when she has me?

“I like the way he is, he’s been with me since we were kids so there's no way I could ever replace him like that,” she said and I felt proud. 

“I heard about how much you care for him. I guess rumors were true” she said and I knew she was amongst those who talked about why she couldn’t get a nicer and social hybrid who smiles and dotes on her. I do dote on her… and I’m only nice to her. Everyone else was pushing it. 

“What is he if I can ask?” she said and y/n only sighed while looking up at me. “He’s a puma hybrid from Japan,” she answered. “Woah! I heard puma hybrids were rare! I thought he was just a cat… makes sense then for how tall he is.” she said as she got closer to me. 

“Oh please don’t do that. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” y/n said as I went behind her. 

“You should take him to the training you know. It's for the hybrids who need manners… they are opening classes in your university for hybrids'' she said… she stalked y/n to know what university she was in? She needs a life. 

“Oh… I know of them. I think he is just fine the way he is” y/n said and she bowed. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said and we walked away from the pair. “She was a bitch” y/n muttered and I laughed.

“Calm down, you have an act to uphold,” I said and she sighed. “y/n?” I said and she looked at me with her eyes filled with determination to answer to give me anything I asked for. “Why didn’t you tell me your uni is having hybrid classes?” I asked and she sighed. 

“They're mainly about etiquette. She said how to take care of your owner… how to behave in a social setting, etc” and I nodded. 

“I want to go,” I said and her eyes widened. “But you're perfect–” “No, I’m not… I caused you a lot of trouble. I heard your dad get mad again this morning. He didn’t want me here because of last time” I said and she shook her head. 

“Yah! Don’t do that!” she scolded and I smiled softly. 

“Please? You said you would give me anything I asked for. I want to be a better hybrid for you” 

“I can’t believe I'm agreeing to this,” she said and I smiled. “Thank you for letting me do this,” I said and she sighed. “I hate that the class requires collars though. I would’ve rather you had the tail ring instead” she complained and I chuckled.

“You’ll do great in your midterm, okay? Don’t worry about me” I said as I kissed her cheek. “After we’ll go for some Japanese food,” she said and I grinned. “Takoyaki!” I yelled and she chuckled. “I’ve been craving some curry udon,” she said and I nodded. 

“I’ll do my best for you,” I said and she smiled. “You already are. Don’t change, okay?” she asked and I nodded. I just wanted to improve for her… 

When I entered I was immediately overwhelmed with the many scents of hybrids. I ignored the stares of the familiar scents and went down into the big lecture room. 

I sat down in the middle of the third to first row, not expecting others to approach me. “Ah! I’m not late!” I heard as I saw a Golden

A Retriever hybrid suddenly entered… he didn’t have a collar nor the scent of a domesticated hybrid. He grinned at me and I suddenly regretted staring… “I’m Jake, and you are?” he said as he approached me and sat next to me.

I heard the laughs around us, probably of me socializing with another hybrid. “Riki,” I said and he nodded. “I think your collar is cool!” he said and I chuckled. “Of course it is, I chose it,” I said and he looked confused. 

“Your owner must be kind,” he said with a wagging tail and I chuckled. “Hey, isn’t that miss l/n’s hybrid?” I suddenly heard a bunch of whispers and I sighed and slouched down to my chair. 

“Oh? Do they know you?” he asked and I scoffed. “Don’t get it mixed up, they know OF me, they don’t know me” I said and he nods 

“They seem to know your owner,” he said and I scoffed. “They don’t know her…” I muttered. “Is she nice?” he asked and I laughed. 

“She’s perfect” 

y/n's perspective

“I thought you were going home after?” I heard and I saw Wonyoung with Seonghwa. I nod, “I do, I just need to pick up Niki, he’s taking etiquette classes,” I said and they both froze. “Your dad is making him take classes?” Wonyoung said and I chuckled. 

“No, he wanted them for whatever reason. I tried to convince him otherwise but he insisted” I said and they both looked at each other. “Oh shut up the both of you,” I said and they chuckled as they caught up with me. 

“He’s so spoiled if you just fold like that,” Seonghwa added and I scoffed. “You do spoil that cat a lot” Wonyoung teased and I rolled my eyes. “Have you told Hongjoong–” “He would kill me in my sleep if I ever brought it up” Seonghwa cut me off and I chuckled… that's true. 

We finally made it to the building where the hybrid classes are taking place but I didn’t see Niki… I saw the hybrids out already so where was he? 

“How long is it gonna take for him to come to you?” Wonyoung asked and I didn’t know. I looked at my phone, and the class should’ve already ended by now. “Why’d you even allow it?” Soenghwa asked and I sighed. 

“Cause he wouldn’t let go of it. He begged and begged… I couldn’t keep denying it” I said and they sighed. “She’s whipped for him, that's the answer,” Wonyoung said and Seonghwa nodded. 

“Oh? y/n!!” I heard as I saw the girl from the party again with her hybrid. What was her name again?

“You’re Wonyoung and Seonghwa, right? I’m e/n” she said. “I’m glad to see you’re having Niki taking this class,” she said and I sighed. “His name is Riki,” I said and she looked confused. “Oh? But you call him Niki?” she asked.

“That's a nickname that she only calls him, he will glare or even scoff if he hears you call him that,” Seonghwa said and it was true… I've called him that since I was a kid and yet he never let anyone else call him that. “This class should teach him otherwise,” she said and I had to refrain from scoffing. 

“Oh, you should look into a secondary hybrid,” she said and I glared. 

“I wouldn’t get another one,” I clarified. “Riki would get too jealous,” “Or he’d kick the other hybrid out himself,” Wonyoung and Seonghwa added. 

“But if you were to get one he’d have to comply with her. She’s the owner,” she said and I shook my head. “Well, I was thinking of something cute… maybe a fox? Ooh or a pretty cat!” she said while looking at herself in a pocket mirror fixing her lipstick while her hybrid looked at her with a sad expression.

“I wanna go home” I suddenly heard. Niki? 

“Why do you have scratches on your face? Are you okay?” I asked and he avoided eye contact when I grabbed his jaw to look at his wounds. He nodded, “I wanna go home” he repeated and I sighed. 

“Ok, just let me take this off,” I said as I took off his collar and took out his tail ring. “Riki!! You forgot… Oh. Please don’t be mad at him! He was only defending me!!” I saw a dog hybrid yell while he held Niki’s backpack. Seonghwa grabbed it, holding it for me. 

“Please, it's all my fault. Don’t abandon him because of me!” he pleaded and even bowed. I looked at Niki who looked away. “Why would I abandon you? Niki, what happened?” I asked and the other hybrid soon stood up but looked down to my hands. His collar? I sighed and turned Niki around when I clipped his tail ring. “Thank you for caring about him but he’s not in trouble. You should find your owner, they must be worried about you–” “He’s a stray” I was interrupted by e/n.

A stray? “Did you see? It's why they make the hybrids wear collars because they need to know by the end of the class who is a stray and who is owned. It's a mixture of people like us who pay and hybrids of low status who need major help like him. He’s probably also a runt” she said suddenly in disgust as she stepped back.

“Thank you for looking after Niki,” I said and he nodded with a small smile. I grabbed the backpack from Seonghwa as I looked at him and I saw his worried eyes. “Come on, I'm hungry,” I said as I dragged him away from the lecture hall and everyone else while I heard Wonnie and Seonghwa complain about me abandoning them…

“I still want that udon curry,” I pondered and he sighed. He grabbed his backpack and clipped his collar there as he walked silently. “Did you fight for him?” I asked and he nodded silently.

I smiled. “That’s very kind of you,” I said and from the corner of my eye, he looked at me confused. “What were they doing to him?” I asked and he sighed. “Called him a runt… a stray… useless. It was all when the teacher left for a break and I don’t know why I did but I fought for him” he said and I smiled. 

“That was very brave of you. I’m proud of you Niki!” I said with a grin and he smiled softly. “The teacher gave me a warning cause he said if he told you that you’d return me,” he said and I chuckled. “We’ve been together for years! I could never do that” I said and he nodded. 

“Still want takoyaki?” I asked and he chuckled. “Always!” he yelled as he ran ahead of me. 

“HEY!! NO FAIR!! YOU HAVE LONGER LEGS!!”

taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc @nikisvanillaccola @blossominghunnie @mheretoreadff @k1ttylvr

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[theaccidentfactory]

After amphibia, Anne and Marcy struggle, and despite working on being vulnerable, Sasha feels like she has to be the strong one yet again for them. She holds them while they cry, encourages them to go to therapy, helps them get out of bed when they have bad days, all while laying awake at night and biting her fingernails so intensely her hands bleed while listening to her parents argue over the phone in the next room. She can't shake the feeling that she's still in the middle of an active war with an entire rebellion and her best friends' lives on her 13 year old shoulders. Anne and Marcy talk about how they admire Sasha for being so brave and strong, but they both secretly worry about her. But a lot goes unsaid in the early days after amphibia, because they're all trying their hardest to keep it together for each other. Sasha still hadn't really cried about everything that happened, how could she when she still feels like one moment of weakness will result in her friends' deaths? It's not that she doesn't feel sad, she doesn't know if she's capable of feeling anything else these days, but there is a mental block stopping the tears from actually coming. She doesn't feel safe in public or at her mom's house or her dad's apartment. She only feels safe around Anne and Marcy, but she can't cry around them, she's supposed to be strength, like the prophecy said. So she settles for throwing everything she has into making sure they stay safe and healthy. This tactic works, for a while, until one Saturday night when they all have a sleepover at Anne's house. Her back aches from the old wound and even though she knows it's fully healed, she swears she can feel the scar on her face bleed. They play typical teen sleepover games and eat large amounts of pizza and mint chip ice cream, and then it's time for bed. She helps Marcy take off her walking braces and put on her night ones, and reminds Anne to take her medication and soon enough she feels tired. She's afraid to sleep, worried about nightmares, but she hadn't had a good night's sleep in nearly 3 weeks, so she feels exhausted. Tucked into Anne's bed where she had spent so many nights while her parents hashed out the custody situation in court or went on first dates, she starts to fall asleep. The last thing she hears is Anne and Marcy quietly laughing at some cat video on Anne's brand new phone.

She doesn't remember the dream that wakes her up, she never does, just the feeling that she had somehow failed and everyone is facing the consequences. The first thing she registers is her throat producing a terrified scream. The next is feeling like she was trapped, so she thrashes around in bed, landing a few punches on the wall, earning just a sickening crack as her knuckles slammed into the rough paint. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and all she knew was that she needed to make sure Anne and Marcy were safe. Nothing else mattered, she didn't even matter, all that mattered is that her girls were okay.

She jumped and thrashed some more as a sudden light blinded her. She didn't scream this time, she had trained herself to not scream regardless of what was happening in order to not make herself an easy target. She felt like she was underwater as she heard her name.

She felt a hand grab the wrist that was making contact with the wall, and was about to swing in the direction of the contact when she saw it. Lime green nail polish. No one in amphibia wore that color nail polish. But Marcy did. She forced her eyes to move upward, and she made contact with Marcy's eyes. Not the ones staring her down behind the helmet as she raised the scythe, but the ones she grew up with, deep brown, that were now filled with concern.

She took a deep breath and suddenly became aware of another hand in her hair. It was her own hand, gripping her hair so tightly it was cutting off the circulation in her fingers. She saw Anne's hand going to her head, and tried not to notice how worried she looked as she gently unhooked Sasha's fingers from her own hair. Anne said something Sasha couldn't process, but it didn't matter. Her melodic voice with just a hint of the Southern California vocal fry she always swore she didn't have was enough to put her at least a little bit more at ease.

Slowly, she emerged from her panic and fear. Anne kept holding her hand, and as she came back, she could hear Anne telling her about how Domino had gotten stuck under the couch earlier that day. It wasn't anything important, but she could feel herself focusing on the story, rather than the overwhelming feeling to run or fight.

Marcy smiled at her, and ran circles around her wrist with her thumb. In that moment, there was the typical guilt associated with making them take care of her, but for the first time since leaving Grime, she felt... Seen. And very loved.

Later, she wouldn't be able to explain why that feeling was the one that triggered the tears she had been repressing for months, but she burst into tears. She cried, more like ugly sobbed. She started to turn her head into the pillow to muffle the cries and prevent her friends from seeing her, but Anne pulled her into a warm hug, wrapping her long arms around her and holding her as close as possible. As she sobbed into Anne's chest, ruining her cat printed pajama shirt with tears and snot and spit, she felt Marcy position the front of her body against the back of hers, meeting Anne's arms wrapping themselves around Sasha's shaking hyperventilating body. She cried and cried until her head ached and tears wouldn't come out of her eyes anymore, and when she stopped and her breaths slowed, she felt a glass of water being pressed against her lips, and since it was held by Marcy, she drank.

She hiccuped uncontrollably and struggled to find the right breathing pattern, but eventually she did fall asleep, sandwiched in between Anne and Marcy, feeling warm and vulnerable, but not necessarily in a dangerous way.

The next morning, she woke up in the same position as she had fallen asleep in, still being embraced by her loves. Her face was stained with tears and her throat was dry and sore, but she felt better than she had in a really long time, perhaps in her entire life.

That morning, Anne made them all pancakes.

[waffledforbreakfast]

Dreams of you - SAE X READER [oneshot]

Sae x Reader , oneshot, angst + comfort(??)

[pt.2 ]

[Kaiser edition (wip)]

[ BLLK Oneshot Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

“I love you, Sae.” “I love you too, [Y/N].” “Please babe. Wake up.” 

Sae shot up, cold sweat running down his body. His hands were shaking and his breath was uneven, how many times has this been now?

26. It had been 26 days since he broke up with you. Why was he still having dreams of your first date? Your loving words and tender affirmations, your smile so bright it had engraved itself in the back of his mind.

It had been a month since he broke up with you, and yet every night your warm touch had seeped into the back of his mind, and into his dreams.

Breaking up with you was meant to help him focus. Not the other way around.

He wondered if it would’ve been better if he just didn’t leave.

“Whatever. What’s been done has been done. There’s no going back.”

He took a deep breath, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose.

The clock read 4:02 AM. Not that he had to check, it was always 4 in the morning that these dreams released him.

Sae wondered what you were doing in Japan, did you have lunch yet? What were you eating? Who were you eating with? Was it your new boyfri-

“Stop.”

Sae hissed at himself, trying to keep his thoughts in check. He would think of you everyday, he hated it. Whenever he saw your favourite food, he’d think of buying you some. A plushie, would you like it? The cats at the shelter, maybe he should send you a pic…

He grabbed his hair, nails digging lightly into his scalp. It was always you. Why must you haunt his poor heart  head? 

He refused to waste more time on this. He stood up and fixed his bed, a habit he got from you. It was already 4:11, he’d used almost 10 minutes thinking of you again. He clenched his jaw, mentally noting that he didn’t deserve to get himself a sweet treat today, for wasting such time.

But it was better than yesterday’s 18 minutes, right? That’s improvement! Plus, he had trained for 10 hours yesterday as a punishment, so surely it’d be okay to take it easier today, right?

Sae remembered how you used to convince him to take breaks from training with such logic.

He dug his nails into his palm. Enough of you already, he had things to do.

Sae left the apartment, wandering the empty streets illuminated by the streetlamps and the few open cafes/restaurants. 

Sae used to blast music through his headphones to mute his thoughts, but it stopped working after he was reminded that you were the one who handcrafted all the very few playlists of his.

So now he just tried to focus on his surroundings, promptly ignoring any thoughts of you.

He’d been doing this for weeks now, did he feel any better? Would he be happier if he fully got over you? Sae didn’t let himself answer that question.

He was well familiar with the area by now, becoming a regular at any place open at this time around here. There was nothing new for him to focus on.

No no, surely there was something. Wasn’t a new cafe opening somewhere? He could’ve sworn someone handed him a flyer about it…

But truthfully, he could barely remember anything these days. 

Sae pulled out his phone and looked through his gallery to find the picture of the flyer, pretending to not see the dozens of your photos, which he had deleted and re-downloaded multiple times now.

He followed the map towards the cafe, flipping through its online menu. It seemed that the cafe really was new, almost nothing had been set up online, no images, no menu, no reviews. It seemed to be a small struggling business. Sae almost pitied them. If he was capable of such emotions anymore.

Sae pushed open the door, the small bell dangling above it rang a light jingle, notifying the worker that there was a guest

“Oh hello! Uhm… that door was supposed to be locked, haha…”

The poor employee laughed awkwardly, sweating visible bullets.

Sae turned around to look at the door, the rusted lock fell off the frame on to the floor.

The employee gulped, “So, what can I help you with!” She tried to put on a bright smile, since the customer was clearly wealthy, given his looks, there was no way she’d be able to tell him to get out!

Sae looked around, the place really was run down, was it really ready to open?? 

“What do you have?”

“Uhm, let’s see… We have water?”

“...”

“uh- hahaha… just kidding! W-we have other stuff too… uhm- dango, milk tea, tanghulu, pudding, anddd milk?” 

The worker gave a weak smile, Sae was staring right into her eyes, she felt like he’d jump her at any moment!

“Get me two waffles”

“I- sorry?? We don’t offer those, haha…”

She did NOT remember listing waffles as an option, was the guy even listening???

“Oh”

He was not listening

“... Actually- I’ll get that done for you! Give me a few minutes….”

She headed to the back to get his order done.

Shit. Sae impulse ordered waffles again. He doesn’t even like waffles! It was supposed to be your favourite food, not his. Why’d he do that…

He knew exactly why, but refused to admit it.

What was he even going to do with two of them!? The only option really was to scarf it down…

“Uhm… you’ve been staring at me for a while… is there something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t aware, sorry.”

The worker gave him a skeptic look, as he was still staring, even after the apology. “This guy must be barely awake…”

“Well, here’s your waffles!”

She handed him a paper bag, with clear plastic on one side so he could see inside. Two warm waffles sat, Sae could feel the heat.

“Could I ask, what made you think we were open? No offense or anything- It’s just that the sign on the door said we were closed, and all the flyers said we’re opening next month… I don’t wanna mislead anyone or anything, haha..”

Sae gave a confused look, did he hallucinate…? It wouldn’t be the first time…

He pulled out his phone to check, and sure enough, “GRAND OPENING: NEXT MONTH” was written in bold. How did he miss that???

“Sorry, [Y/N].”

He mumbled, pulling out his wallet, and putting a few hundred bills on the table and sliding it to the worker, “For your troubles”

“Oh! Uhm, Thank you!”

The worker was visibly taken aback, he had given her $750! If she was in a different situation, she probably would’ve insisted on giving it back, but with the way the store was looking, it would go a long way.

Sae headed towards the door, checking the time

“Uhm sir, my name’s not [Y/N] by the way… you can just call me-”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Sae cut her off. He didn’t really care who she was. Now he knew why he was staring at her the whole time, her eyes looked like yours.

“Barely. [Y/N]’s are darker.”

Sae took a waffled from the bag, taking a bite as he walked home

“What am I doing with my life, I can’t even remember Rin’s eye colour but I know her’s? What curse am I under…”

“Maow!”

Sae looked down, a tabby cat was jumping up his leg, reaching for the waffle bag.

“Maowmaowmaowwwwww”

Sae leaned down, squatting as he opened the bag and gave the cat a waffle.

The tabby ate it happily, it seemed well groomed and clean, maybe it belonged to someone?

Sae pet her head, the cat leaning into his touch with a content smile as she purred.

“How cute, they have the same eyes…”

Sae stood up, dusting himself off. He waved goodbye to the cat and continued walking home.

But the cat followed, meowing loudly to get his attention. She didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.

Sae looked at it for a bit, hesitating. You had always wanted a cat, you even had names prepared. Maybe one day, when you visit, he could show you the cat and convince you to come to his apartment.

“Forget it. She’s never coming back.”

There was no point in keeping the cat, he was never planning on getting one.

And yet he still stared at the cat, the cat staring back with those eyes that he oh so loved, resembling yours.

Fuck it.

Sae scooped up the cat, and continued walking,

“You’re mine now.”

A/N: Teehee! First oneshot :3 this ones inspired by irl events ;) bc i have a crazy rate of dreaming- (daily. And I can remember 75% of the time, which mean my dreams give me crazy amounts of content LMAO)

Hope u like it :3

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 21]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

You groaned, falling back onto the bed... Well, the pile of clothes that were on your bed. You have spent the last 2 hours trying to find an outfit to wear and you were on the verge of giving up. Today, you were going to go out with Yunho. Instead of just dinner, he planned to meet and hang out before going for dinner.

But what do you wear to a date?

Both you and Yunho decided that it was best to keep this to yourselves for now, not wanting any unnecessary attention on the two of you. Well, except one person.

"You're supposed to be getting dressed. Not getting comfy on your clothing pile." Jongho clicked his tongue.

"I'm trying!" You whined, kicking your feet like a child.

"Wait, I think I know..." You found a dress. It was a flowy summer dress, white with small blue flowers all over. You went to the bathroom to change.

"What do you think?" You came out, showing Jongho the dress. He sat on the bed, drinking his coffee.

"This is the one." He nodded.

"Think so?" You stared at your reflection, twisting slightly to make the material flow around you. While you don't have a definitive style, you definitely do not usually dress this girly. The only time you do is during events or when you meet your father and stepmother.

"So let me get this straight. I'm the only one that knows about the date between you and Yunho hyung. Not even your other half, Seonghwa hyung, knows?" Jongho asked.

"Yes. Well, I'm not sure if Yunho told Mingi... But essentially, you're the only one that knows on my end." You replied.

"Why?"

"Because the more people know, the more expectations there are. And you know, Hwa is... protective of me. I'm already stressed out enough." You sighed.

"Hey. Don't worry about it, hmm? There's nothing to be stressed about." Jongho rounded the bed, holding your hand.

"It'll be okay." He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Thanks, Jong." You smiled appreciatively and went to finish getting ready. You took a shower, styled your hair a little and put on some light make up. However, you did need to watch a few YouTube tutorials on how to do that. You wanted to look natural and not be too over the top.

"Here, I made you an omelette." Jongho said when you emerged from the room. You fixed all your jewellery on, your mother's earrings being your most prized possessions.

"How do you act on a date?" You asked as you took a bite. Jongho blinked before he burst out laughing.

"I have no idea how to answer that sort of question." He snickered before eating his own omelette. You shot him a look for laughing.

"Well, I'm asking you because you go on the most blind dates with people. How do you act then?" You jabbed right back at him, making him roll his eyes.

"Those blind dates are with strangers. You know Yunho hyung. You shouldn't have to act differently." He shrugged.

"Yeah but I know some guys feel friend-zoned if a girl acts too familiar with them." You said.

"I'm sure Yunho hyung just wants you to be you. Be comfortable around him. If any of you act awkwardly, it'll just make the entire thing awkward for the both of you. Just enjoy yourselves and each other's company." Jongho smiled.

"Do you like Yunho hyung? In that way." He added.

"I think I do? Maybe... I don't know, I'm trying to figure that out but it's hard. You know I hate addressing my emotions... It just messes me up." You groaned.

"It's okay to not be sure, (y/n). Going on dates is to find out your feelings for each other, see compatibility too." He said.

"I do really care for him. It's feelings that I've not had before and it's daunting..." You gulped.

"There's no obligation when and to be a couple at the end of it, okay? Be patient with yourself, you don't have to share everything with him right from the start. Take things at your own pace." He advised.

"Alright, I should get ready to go. He's picking me up in 10 minutes." You stood up, running to get your tote.

"I'll clear up here and lock up. Don't worry about it." He waved you off. Grinning, you went over to hug him and give him a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Jong. I mean it when I say, you're a lifesaver." You giggled. He hummed and patted your back, wishing you luck before you left the house. As you stood in the lift, there was a slight nervous churn in your stomach. Should you have asked Yunho for a dress code? Were you over or under dressed?

"(y/n)." Yunho was already there, waiting for you. He broke out into a big grin when he saw you, pushing off his car that he was leaning against to greet you.

"Wow, you look amazing." He said.

"Are you saying I don't usually look good?" You raised an eyebrow. His eyes widened, going into a panic.

"N-No! Of course not. What I was trying to say was that you look different but a good different! You are always pretty." He settled with that, his ears burning red.

"I'm just kidding, Yunho. Thank you." You chuckled. He lifted his head, the smile returning to his face. He was glad you weren't awkward or uncomfortable, that you could still tease him like always.

"Here, I got you this." He turned around and took something out of his car to hand to you.

"I know it seems like I always give you flowers but-"

"I love them, Yunho." You smiled, leaning in to look at the beautiful bouquet of baby pink tulips as you cradled it in your arms. For some reason, you knew you would never get tired of the warm feeling you felt when Yunho gave you flowers.

"Shall we?" He opened the door to the passenger side for you. You bowed your head and sat in the car, making sure your dress wasn't caught before he closed the door.

"So where are we going?" You asked. Yunho went quiet, pursing his lips at your question.

"What's wrong?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). I spent the whole night trying to research on where to go on a first date and the answers are all so generic like amusement park, zoo, aquarium, cafe." He apologised.

Hearing Yunho put so much dedication to this date made the churning in your stomach turn to butterflies.

"Well, I haven't been to the aquarium before." You laughed with a small shrug.

"We'll go there!" Yunho declared with a big, excited grin. He appreciated that you didn't make him feel like a fool for not knowing where to go or that he had to Google ideas for a first date. Instead, you helped him pick a place. As long as Yunho could spend time with you, he'll go anywhere.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I haven't been to the aquarium before?" You asked as he drove. Usually, that was the reaction, one of shock and disbelief.

"I'm sure you had your own reasons." He shrugged. Yunho believed that if you had wanted to tell him the reason, you would have.

"Thanks for not prying." You mumbled. This was the first time someone so respectful of your privacy.

Yunho pulled up to the parking lot of COEX aquarium and came out to open the door for you. You wondered if you should leave the bouquet behind in the car or take it with you.

"I'm worried leaving it in the warm car will cause it to wilt." You said honestly.

"Bring it with you then. We can take turns carrying it." Yunho encouraged. He was just glad you treasured the flowers so much.

"Alright." You nodded shyly and started the walk with Yunho out of the carpark to the ticketing booth. The two of you walked side by side, keeping to each other's pace. Yunho secured the tickets and gestured for you to walk through the barrier first.

"So, where to?" Yunho asked as he held up the map for the both of you to see.

"Honestly, Yunho. You can decide. I've never been here before and I trust your taste." You chuckled. Yunho laughed along and tucked the map back into his pocket.

"We'll just follow the path then." He smiled. You nodded and walked with him. Luckily, the aquarium wasn't too crowded.

"Woah." You said in awe at all the big tanks of fish.

For the first time, you were the one in childlike amazement while Yunho looked on at you fondly. He knew he was lucky to be the one to bring you for your first aquarium experience.

"This is cool." You leaned in to one of the smaller tanks to observe all the breeds of fish living together.

"There's more in front." Yunho pointed and you nodded with an excited smile.

Venturing through the aquarium, Yunho never rushed you, letting you take the lead on what you wanted to see. Honestly, Yunho just wanted to keep seeing you smile. Your excitement wasn't annoyingly loud or dynamic, instead you quietly smiled with sparkling eyes as you looked at each exhibit.

"Oh, they let you touch the starfish." You said, reading the sign at the Marine Touch Lab. Although you handle seafood and raw meat, you've never touched a starfish before.

"Do you want to?" Yunho asked. You thought about it before nodding your head slowly. Yunho took your bouquet from you.

"Don't you want to pet it too?" You turned to him.

"Go ahead, I've done it before." He chuckled, encouraging you.

"We should do it together." Suddenly, you took Yunho's freehand, surprising him. Holding his hand in yours, you pet the starfish together. Yunho's eyes focussed on you the entire time.

"The texture is weird..." You mumbled. Yunho chewed on his bottom lip, his ears burning red.

"Mmm, the water is cold." Yunho added randomly, the words not really forming in his head because of how flustered he was. He knew you probably didn't think too much about it like he did, you just wanted to pet the starfish together.

"D-Do you want to pet the other fish?" Yunho asked as the two of you pulled your hands out of the starfish tank. You looked around at the other marine life there.

"Touching those fish would be like handling them before I cook them right?" You stated.

"I don't think you should talk about cooking fish in a place like this..." Yunho burst out laughing, making you laugh as well.

"Oops, I did not notice. But practically speaking, it's the circle of life. I'm sure those carnivorous fish each the other small fish too." You shrugged. Yunh nodded in agreement.

"Let's wash our hands and continue." He said. Like the gentleman he was, he let you use the sink first.

"Ocean kingdom." You read out as you entered.

"People like to sit here and watch the sharks." Yunho informed. You nodded and found an empty spot to sit with him for a while. He removed his jacket, draping it over your legs since you were wearing a dress. Because of how empty it was, it was nice and peaceful. Yunho was still casting secret glances at you.

"You can lean on me... If you'd like." He added that last part hastily, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or creep you out. But even if you did feel that way, you never expressed it.

"It's surprisingly peaceful watching the sharks swim." You said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Hmm, they're misunderstood. They aren't the killing machines people make them out to be. Only when bothered or disturbed."

"I agree." He felt you nod in agreement. Yunho relaxed slightly, he liked this moment with you. The awkwardness was finally gone and you could both be comfortable.

"I'm really enjoying myself, Yunho." You said softly.

"I-I'm glad." Yunho replied, resting his head softly against your own as his cheeks heated up.

After sitting for a while more, you moved on to the marine mammal village because there was a little food stall selling snacks for people to buy. While Yunho stood in line, you went to find a seat to sit down. You were texting Seonghwa since he was looking for you.

'You'll be gone the whole day? - Seonghwa'

'Yeah, just getting some air then going for dinner. I think I just need some time to clear my head and I'll be okay. I'll see you tomorrow morning? - (y/n)'

'Alright, sweetheart. I'll come pick you. Stay safe and let me know when you get home, please? - Seonghwa'

'I will. - (y/n)'

Realising Yunho still wasn't here, you looked up to see him wandering around. He held the tray, looking around for you like a lost, confused puppy. It was really so adorable, you want to take a picture.

"Yunho." You stood up slightly, raising your hand.

"Oh!" Yunho perked up, a happy yet relieved smile appearing on his face as he came over to you.

"I contemplated just sitting here, watching you go around looking for me." You chuckled. He pouted at your words, placing the tray down before sitting. You giggled at his reaction, he really reminded you of a golden retriever. You split the drinks, you ordered a sprite so you assumed the coke was his.

"I didn't know which corndog you wanted. There's a potato and a plain one with sugar. Take the one you want and I'll eat the other one. Or we can split it? Half each." Yunho said.

"Let's split it." You smiled, taking a fork and eating some of the fries. Even if you were sharing, Yunho still let you take one first.

"Cheers." Yunho grinned, holding out his corndog. You gently knocked the corndogs together before taking a bite.

"Ooh, it's hot." He huffed, taking a sip of his drink to cool his mouth down. You dipped your corndog in mustard and ketchup. Once you were both halfway done, you swapped.

You didn't mind sharing food with Yunho, you've eaten off the same plate and probably shared drinks while working. It didn't bother you at all.

"You have sauce here." You took a napkin and wiped the corner of his lip for him.

"Thank you." He smiled shyly. Just like before, you and Yunho shared some small conversations, nothing too serious but it was fun and comfortable. When the food was done, you split to wash your hands and use the restrooms before continuing.

"I didn't know they have manatees here. They're so cute." You said with a giggle, standing close to the glass as a manatee swam by. You place a hand on the glass, as if petting them.

"You like manatees?" Yunho asked.

"Well, not my favourite animal but they're just cute big blobs that float around water. What's not to like?" You chuckled.

"True. They're apparently really nice and gentle. Even with humans, they're fearless in interaction. Don't have it in them to be mean to predators." Yunho said.

"Like you?" You mocked.

"I-I can be mean!" Yunho argued. But he would never be mean to you, not intentionally of course. He was still human, he could still get annoyed and angry. He bickers with Mingi and Gunho all the time.

"Sure~" You sang and reached up to pat his head. Almost instinctively now, Yunho leaned down so you could reach him. The two of you walked into the famous underwater tunnel. You stood there, eyes following the big manta rays that swam over your head. Yunho couldn't take his eyes off you.

*click*

Yunho's eyes widened when he realised how loud his phone's camera shutter was. You turned your head, catching him red handed with his phone held up.

"Come." You waved him over, pulling him down slightly so you could stand together, your faces at a more equal height.

"1, 2, 3." Yunho counted down before taking the photo. He stared at it for a few seconds. He liked it.

"Excuse me, could you take a photo for us, please?" Yunho asked one of the staffs passing by. He wanted some of you and him standing together. He handed his phone over to her.

"Alright, look here!" She said. Yunho held his arm out for you to take and you slowly held his arm, posing for the photos.

"You're too tall." You looked up at him as you giggled.

"Maybe you're just too short." He looked back down at you. When the photos were done, you and Yunho bowed gratefully to the lady. Yunho scrolled through the photos. He didn't know the staff caught the moment you and Yunho were looking at each other.

"I like that one..." You said, peering over his shoulder as he scrolled.

"Me too." Yunho smiled.

"Send it to me?" You requested. He nodded and sent all the photos to you. You scrolled through the photos on your own, a soft smile appearing on your face.

"Let's go." Yunho and you continued the rest of the aquarium path. The last attraction on the path was the penguin exhibit.

"That's cute." Yunho pointed to draw your attention to the baby penguin standing on his parent's feet.

"When I used to train at a restaurant in Tasmania in Australia, there was a penguin islet. There were penguins there, living on the beach." You smiled fondly at the memory.

"I didn't know penguins can live in warm weather." Yunho said.

"I guess they're different species of it. The ones in Australia look very different from these ones." You shrugged.

You and Yunho took another photo together in front of the penguin exhibit. Right in front of the exit, there was a gift shop. The two of you browsed together, looking at all the cute souvenirs there. You held a matching penguin keychains. Was it too fast for you to want this with Yunho? This was only a first date.

"Yunho?" You left the keychains, realising that Yunho had momentarily stepped away from your side. You found him just as he was exiting the cashier.

"What did you get?" You asked.

"It's for you." He smiled, holding the bag out. You blinked in surprise and received it. Opening the bag, you picked up the small plush.

"A manatee plush? It's adorable." You laughed, holding the plush to your chest.

"Yunho, you've been paying for everything so far. And I know you're going to insist on paying for dinner later. Please at least let me pay my share of the entrance tickets?" You asked.

"It's alright, (y/n). I just want your first time to the aquarium to be special. As long as you're happy and had a great time, it's all worth it." He smiled.

"I did have a great time. And I'll repay you somehow." You poked his chest.

"You fed me and still continue to feed me. That's more than enough repayment." He laughed. You did really have a great time. Although, you knew a big part of the reason why you had a great time because you spent it with Yunho.

"Shall we go?" Yunho made the first move first, boldly holding his hand out to you. You stared at his hand for a few seconds before slipping your hand into his.

"Let's go." You smiled.

You were glad he didn't think all this was 'too fast' because you didn't know how you should be acting. This was all new to you.

But if this wasn't too fast for Yunho, then there was nothing for you to be afraid of.

~

Series masterlist

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kurapika Yandere Alphabet

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: brief nsfw(mention of Kurapika eating pussy), reader gets Stockholm syndrome, abduction, Kurapika forces reader to do things like take medicine when she’s sick or restrains her if she tries to hurt herself/escape, self harm, suicide/suicidal thoughts, restraint, isolation

A/N: I’m opening up requests for Yandere Alphabets!! Send your fav ADULT HXH/JJK character and I’ll make one :3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Kurapika is very detail oriented, he shows his love by making sure the space you have is decorated exactly like your room in your home was. He spoils you with gifts and sweet treats, though he leaves them at your door or on your bed like a cat bringing you a dead mouse.

His love gets intense when you find out about his feelings and eventually return them. He’s the only other human being in your life, and you desperately need comfort and touch.

When you come to him for affection, he gets intense, he’ll hold you close, visibly trembling as he rubs soothing circles into your back. His eyes will flicker to your lips, hungry for kisses or even just to press his thumb into your soft lip.

When he comes home upset or goes through a depressive episode, he’ll want to hold you. Sometimes he holds you so tight his fingers leave imprints on whatever he’s gripping, be it your thighs sides, or back. He’ll kiss whatever mark he leaves on your skin, whispering apologies through tears.

“I’m such a hypocrite… I was supposed to protect you, but look… look at these marks on your pretty skin… I’m so sorry angel, please forgive me.”

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He’s willing to do next to anything to keep his darling safe and happy as possible. If that means killing masses of people that could potentially hurt you, he doesn’t mind baring that sin.

You are his angel, he would do anything for you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

After being abducted, he treats you probably the best any yandere could. He decorates your room to look as close to your previous one as possible, makes sure all of your needs are met and that you’re as spoiled as you can be.

He would never mock you, Kurapika wants his darling to love him. With all the lengths he’s gone to just to make you happy, he wouldn’t give that all up even if he was angry.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, besides abducting you, he’s not willing to do much against your will. If you’re trying to hurt yourself or escape, he’ll restrain you, but that’s it. Also, if you refuse to take medication when you’re ill or if he NEEDS you to do something for your own benefit he’ll make you do it, but he never makes you do something FOR him.

He would never force himself on you, ever. Kurapika loves his darling more than anything, and he’s still holding onto his morals.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

At first, he is very distant and even cold. Kurapika is more likely to have a darling he was friends with before abducting her, so they’d have to already be relatively close already.

After a few months with him, he’ll begin to relax around you again, like he did before he abducted you. For the first few months he’ll barely touch you, wanting to give you space and time to get used to your new life.

Once he’s comfortable, he’ll come to you when he’s upset searching for comfort and care. Just having you in the same house as him is enough to keep him from falling apart, but actually feeling your touch while he sobs after a nightmare is heavenly.

He’s happy to tell you how much he cares about you and how this is for your safety, but he’s hesitant to express his more romantic feelings. He’s already kidnapped you and taken you away from everyone and everything you loved, he doesn’t feel like he deserves you.

But when you return his feelings due to him being the only other human you have contact with, he is more than happy to shower you in love and affection. You’d be surprised at how cuddly and affectionate he is!

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Honestly? Betrayed and hurt. He’s given you everything you could ever want and need, and you’re still fighting him. Part of him understands that no matter what he does, he still kidnapped you and no gifts or privileges will make you happy to be imprisoned with him.

The selfish and delusional part of him, however, gets irrationally angry. He would never hurt you, and isn’t inclined to scream, but he gets so cold and distant, after a week of him taking away some privileges and barely speaking to you, you’ll be crawling back begging for his comfort and care. You’re only human after all. The boredom and loneliness would be enough to kill you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Absolutely not, he nearly has a heart attack when you attempt to escape. Your safety is his number one goal, so seeing you attempt something so dangerous terrifies him!

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Two things!

1. For the first few months, he’ll chain her when he leaves the cabin for longer than a few hours. Of course the chain will be long enough so she can walk to the bathroom and she’ll have enough food, but it’s heavy and inconvenient. After you’ve settled in and given up on escaping, he’ll stop chaining you. Good thing too, because those things were heavy, and chaffing!

2. If you’ve pissed him off somehow or have been bad, he will straight up isolate you. He’s the only other human being you have contact with, so imagine being deprived of all social interaction for months at a time. The first few days you’re almost relieved to have some time to yourself. He never bothered you too much, but you didn’t exactly enjoy his presence. But after a while, the loneliness will set in. You’ll be crawling back to him for forgiveness within a week.

Besides that he’s pretty tame for a yandere. He won’t hurt you or try to break you psychologically. He barely punishes you, so as long as you behave decently, you’re fine.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?

He wants to start a family with you! Due to his entire clan being wiped out, he’s the only one left. Kurapika wants you to have his children, desperately.

He knows it will take a while for you to get used to being kidnapped, so he won’t bring this up until after you’ve accepted your fate and fallen in love with him.

“Angel… dont you think… you’d be a great mother?”

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets incredibly jealous of anyone that gets too close to you. Before he took you, he would accompany you to little get together with your friends. You were pretty popular, getting hit on by multiple men and women.

“She’s not interested,” Kurapika would say, his eyes a sharp scarlet as he stood behind you, a protective hand on your shoulder. His eyes follow them as they leave, and once they’re gone he caresses your cheek. “Let’s leave, some of these people are creeps…”

He becomes a bit possessive of you over time, but you chalk it up to him being protective over his friends. You find it cute, not knowing how much of a red flag it is.

Once he takes you, his jealous and possessive tendencies dissipate, and it turns into a more protective nature. You don’t have any contact with other people, so he doesn’t feel the need to be jealous. The only contact you get is with Leorio when he comes to give you a checkup, and Kurapika watches him the entire time.

There’s no use trying to beg Leorio to get you out of there, he knows you’re being held against your will. Although he’s sympathetic, he cares about his friend more than you, and knows you being near Kurapika helps him relax. Kurapika also is more careful with his life, wanting to stay alive to protect and love you the rest of his days. So Leorio will just sigh, patting your back.

“Sorry, (Name), but I can’t help you. Kurapika needs you.”

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

In love, very sweet and soft. Although his darling might see him as a bit cold and stiff, he’s actually flustered, and trying to hide how much his heart is racing when you’re near.

He attempts to touch you as much as possible, even if it’s just lightly bumping you while passing you in the hallway. Kurapika knows you probably hate him now, and he won’t push you into being close with him, but he’ll take these little touches and use them for comfort.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When he falls for you, he’s been your friend for a while now. At first he tries to distance himself, hoping those fuzzy feelings of love will go away, but when they don’t, they turn into almost an obsession.

He’ll buy you gifts and try to spend more time with you between missions, until he basically lives at your home. Before taking you, he becomes quite clingy, wanting to soak up all of your love and attention before you may hate him for kidnapping you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He acts pretty much the same, but he’s much more loving and sweet with you, doting on you a lot. Nothing is too good for his darling!

When around other people, he’s cold and distant, but as soon as you appear he’s brightening up a bit!

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He takes away the TV and other items used for entertainment, and if you’ve done something to hurt yourself he’ll chain you up. The restraint is less of a punishment, more of a way for his paranoid mind to relax knowing you can’t hurt yourself now that you’re chained to your bed.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He’s a very soft and forgiving yandere, and only takes away SOME privileges with very bad behavior. He’ll take away the TV, a few of your art supplies and maybe your switch. He’s very careful, leaving you with at least two things to keep you from going crazy with boredom, usually books and/or your journals to write in. After all, it’s a punishment, but it’s supposed to be for your own good. If he’s harming you, then it’s not working.

Kurapika would rather die than watch you become depressed and suicidal, so even when you haven’t been behaving, he tries to not be too upset with you and make sure he isn’t too harsh. Even if you made him angry, you’ll always be treated like a princess.

If you hurt yourself or attempt to end your life, he goes nearly insane with worry and guilt. Hadn’t he been providing you with enrichment and the best, most comfortable life possible? He knows he kidnapped you, but do you hate the life he’s given you so much that you’d rather die?

He’ll chain you up after this. It’s just a chain that attaches to your bed. He’ll unlock you for exercise and to take you to the bathroom, and be prepared to get used to him watching your every single movement. He WILL be watching you use the bathroom and shower. You won’t even be able to wipe yourself in peace, the embarrassment may just kill you. “Just ignore me. I’m simply making sure you don’t try anything.”

The worst thing he’ll do is ignore/isolate you. You’ll barely see him, and he won’t speak a single word to you until you’ve apologized and realized why he does what he does. “It’s for your own good. You can learn to accept that, or you can get used to being alone.”

Kurapika is perfectly content to just exist alongside you, he can wait forever.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Oh he’s almost endlessly patient. Kurapika may be a bit delusional in some aspects, but he is very aware that what he did to you is wrong. He won’t blame you for acting out or trying to escape, you’re human after all.

He’ll never expect you to fall in love with him, even if he desperately craves your touch. Kurapika will wait though, hoping you’ll see how much he cares for you, and maybe reciprocate his overwhelming feelings.

He only loses his patience when he’s already angry/stressed, and may yell a bit. He’s quick to apologize and remove himself from the room. Kurapika doesn’t want you to be afraid of him.

He’s only ever thrown a real tantrum once, ending up destroying the living room and scaring you half to death. Kurapika couldn’t apologize enough, and it was the first time he ever held you close to him and wouldn’t let you go. “God… please, please don’t be scared of me. I promise I would never hurt you, this isn’t your fault, fuck, (Name)… you’re shaking. I’m so sorry…”

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Nope. He would straight up kill himself after accomplishing his mission. If he can’t find you, he has no reason to keep living after he’s killed the phantom troupe and retrieved the scarlet eyes.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He feels extremely guilty, and on the first day of your capture, he keeps considering just taking you back before you wake up. The two of you were already friends, he’s terrified to see your opinion of him change.

But he pushes all of that away. He can never let you go, knowing that people want to hurt you because of your ties to him.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I think it’s pretty obvious to say it was the massacre of his clan that made him like this. He doesn’t want to lose the person he cherishes most after losing all of his family and friends.

You’re so precious to him, someone that would hold him after his nightmares and smile while baking him a birthday cake. He knows taking you away may make you hate him, but he can’t stand the thought of losing you. He once thought humanity was doomed, but you’re the only other human he sees any light in.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Absolute agony. Although your safety always comes first, Kurapika desperately wants you to be happy as well. He’ll try everything to cheer you up. Gifts, renting your favorite movies, making your favorite dishes, ordering your favorite takeout food…

“Oh angel, please… please don’t cry. I know it’s scary and upsetting to be here, but I promise… that you’re safe. Look, I brought you some dinner!”

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Kurapika is hellbent on making you happy and comfortable, so he goes to great lengths to spoil you with gifts and comfort items. Unlike most yanderes that would use this as an attempt to get you to like them, Kurapika spoils you purely because of his undying love for you, and his need to see you happy.

He’d do anything for you besides let you free. His heart is yours, and so is whatever your heart wants. Stuffed animals, your favorite snacks, nice clothes and jewelry, anything. Nothing is too good for you, if it makes you happy, even for a SECOND Kurapika is more than happy to get it for you.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He adores you through and through, so returning his affection and accepting his gifts will make him a lot more lenient. He’s willing to let you go outside, and if you build up his trust enough he might even let you go outside alone. There’s a fence surrounding your home, so he’s able to not worry too much…

If you’re able to climb that fence, you may have a chance at escaping! If he does catch you though, his heart will be shattered and he’ll have trouble trusting you for a long time. All the progress you both made will be gone.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, he would not intentionally hurt his darling. Now, there is a chance he could grab her too hard and break a bone due to his strength, but this would absolutely shatter him. He’d be so much softer and lenient with you, healing your wound and holding you close as he sobs and begs for your forgiveness.

This is one of the times he considers letting you go. He’s supposed to protect you, and now he’s the cause of your pain… but his selfish heart refuses to let you free. He is more willing to let you go outside and explore though, as long as you hold onto his hand.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He worships the very ground you walk on. Kurapika is incredibly soft and sweet, and willing to give you endless affection and spoil you, if you would allow it. You’re the only thing keeping him from snapping, and you bring him so much happiness. He’s never been in love before, you’re all he has left.

He will buy anything, do ALMOST anything to win you over. Kurapika is the head of a mafia group, he has money to spend. Spoiling you is no problem for him, sometimes he’ll come home with his arms full of stuffed animals, new clothes, and sweets for you.

When you finally have sex for the first time, he spends the first hour between your legs, eating your pussy and cooing soft praise, telling you how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. It’s worship, for sure. He sees you as a perfect angel.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He pines over her for a good few months, then takes you when he realizes his enemies have caught wind of your existence. Kurapika wanted to get into a romantic relationship and have you come with him willingly, but life never seems to be fair to Kurapika.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Absolutely not. His darling is his everything, and he wouldn’t have gone through all the effort of making you happy just to break you. He wants you to be yourself, that’s who he fell in love with!