#until she looked up and there were suddenly whales

[heyclickadee]

Oookay, yeah, I see now why my mom has such a hard time getting into the animated Star Wars shows despite adoring both animation and Star Wars.

Edit: To be clear, I’m not really trying to throw my mom under the bus here. I just didn’t realize my parents do that now until now.

[vivwritesfics]

Gaming Noises

Max is loud af when he games. There comes a point where his girlfriend cant' sleep without his noise.

Before meeting Max, she hadn't been able to sleep without complete silence. She needed the perfect conditions: Silence in her bedroom, the bed to be the right temperature and for the blanket to not be folded up inside of itself.

Pretty small asks, if you ask me.

The first night she stayed at Max Verstappens house, she hadn't expected things to be any different to this. And, for that first night, they weren't any different.

No, Max waited until they were a few months into the relationship, until her staying at his happened more often than not, until he showed his true colours.

After they shared dinner, Max got up to put everything on the counter. "Schat, I'm gonna hop on the sim for a bit," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Okay, Maxie," she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed her head. "I'm gonna go read something before I sleep."

While she was reading, she had her earphones in, music blasting as her eyes moved across the pages. She didn't know just how loud Max was being as he gamed with Team Redline.

It was only once she took her shut her book, took her earphones out and snuggled down under the covers did she hear it.

Max. He might have been in another room, but his voice was so loud. A frown crossed her face, but she still shut her eyes and tried to sleep.

It wasn't happening. She couldn't keep her eyes shut as Max's voice rang out, loud and clear. She grabbed a pillow and placed it over her head, but that did little to drown out the noise.

Wrapping the blanket around her body, she walked out of the bedroom. "Maxy," she groaned as she walked towards him. Max moved his head towards her, but he didn't look away from his screens. Not even when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You're so loud."

She was at such a state of tiredness that she didn't care that he was streaming, that the world could see her in this state.

Max leaned towards her. "I'm sorry, Schat," he whispered. "I'll try to be quieter."

Spoiler alert, Max wasn't quieter. She didn't get to sleep that night until he crawled into bed beside her. But she didn't mind when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing her head.

This continued on for the next four times she was sleeping at his. Every morning she woke up incredibly exhausted. Suddenly it made sense how Max drank so much Red Bull.

It was getting annoying, but she'd never be annoyed at him. He didn't know how loud he was being. Plus she just loved him too much.

She didn't know when she got used to Max's gaming noises. One day, while he was being loud, she fell asleep. She actually fell asleep while Max was shouting, laughing, and raging on the sim.

Max couldn't help but smile when he slipped into the bed beside her and held her close.

She stayed at his for three more nights in a row. For those nights, she fell asleep with no issue, snuggled between his sheets.

But then Max went to a race. She headed back to her own apartment to watch his race from the comfort of her sofa while getting on with work.

She'd spent so much time with Max recently that it was hard to be without him. Her apartment was too quiet, too cold, too lonely. She hated it.

But she stayed up and watched his race with a glass of wine with hand. The great thing about being with Max Verstappen is that you never have to worry about him. He was so far ahead of the rest of the grid that he was never really in any danger of crashing. She'd watch him win for the rest of her life she could.

She tried to go to sleep after the race. Got changed into her pyjamas, got under the covers and tried to get to sleep. It didn't happen. She tried to softly play whale noises. It didn't help.

Again and again she tried to get some sleep. But, no matter what she tried, it didn't happen.

Groaning, she unlocked her phone and called her boyfriend.

It was a minute before Max picked up. As soon as he did, she could already tell he was on his laptop. "Hey, Schat," he said, his voice raised slightly.

"Maxy," she groaned, clearly incredibly tired. "Somehow I'm used to how fucking loud you are when you game," she said. "Co you think you can keep me on the phone until you go to sleep?" She asked.

"Of course, my love," Max said.

He did just as she asked. Max continued to game, continued laughing, shouting and raging (but not seriously) as he played. In no time at all she was sleeping.

Max kept her on the phone beyond that. He kept gaming, kept the phone call going until he was ready to go to bed.

As soon as he logged off of the stream, Max picked up the phone and walked over to the bed. "You there, Schat?" He asked as he sat on the bed.

He got no answer.

"Goodnight, Mijn liefje. I'll be home tomorrow," he said and ended the call.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 166 }

too sweet.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain | pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape | if you can sit in a barrel, maybe i’ll wait until that day… }

@nyashykyunnie said: HELLLOOOO. Since you granted me permission to request a daydream uhm… Jinwoo with a reader who hyperfixates on a lot of things! The fungi, the stars and most especially the sea!! Reader lovesloves whales and jellyfishes and sharks lots!! She loves the sea so much,,!!!!, She also draws a lot><!!! Art is her biggest passion most of all!! She’s like a free bird always so cheery and happy!! Loves all things pretty and cute! A very very childish reader who is just a ball of sunshine and energy!! Loves messing ariund with Jinwoo by putting little dabs of paint on his face heheh… And loves comparing hand sizes and cuddless><!!! Sorry it’s so long ueueueu

there were times when jinwoo sung had to wonder just how he got so lucky to be with someone as bright as you.

whereas he was the pure and true embodiment of darkness-

jinwoo was certain you were light personified.

everything about you was achingly sweet to the core-

too sweet, actually.

the moment he had fallen in love with you was one that happened so… naturally. that day, he had taken some time off in order to take his mother and sister to the nearest beach. he rented out a tiny cottage by the sea, giving them the perfect view of the ocean.

while his mother and sister spent some time walking on the beach together, jinwoo wanted to give them a chance to have the much needed mother-daughter moment they both deserved, deviating from the mainland beach when he sees rugged rocks with tide pools settled beneath the harsh terrain. he thinks about all the fascinating creatures that lived within such little pools and steps closer to the area.

however, the closer he got to the tide pools, the quickly he realized that he was not alone.

for settled against one of the rocks was a young woman that was sketching within the confines of her sketchbook-

it was you.

jinwoo was suddenly rendered speechless at the mere sight of you, taking a moment to admire the way your hair shone from beneath the sunlight. your cute features were turned into a look of concentration, with your lips pursed and your eyebrows furrowed in response.

as you inched closer to the shallow pool, you had somehow lost your balance and nearly face-planted within the waters-

had it not been for jinwoo’s quick thinking, making a mad dash toward you as he captured your frame within his arms. his eyes were glowing with amusement, fighting back a smile when he sweetly asks, “are you alright?”

jinwoo helps you safely lean back against the rock, with your hands gripping on tightly to his wrist before meeting his gaze.

not a hint of fear was seen settled in your eyes, and jinwoo found that he couldn’t look away from you. your smile goes wide as you eagerly introduced yourself to him. already mesmerized by your bright and sunny nature, he repeats your name, ready to introduce himself as well when you suddenly beat him to it.

“you’re jinwoo sung, i know.”

you know?

“that’s interesting.” jinwoo couldn’t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. usually, those that met him treated him like some celebrity or idol, getting tongue tied as they bowed down to him, stuttering out their greetings while avoiding his gaze-

but you-

you were oh so different.

your gaze met with his in an unflinching manner, with your lips tilted up in a smile that manages to make his heart pound in response. the more he looked at you, the more he could feel his heart becoming filled with your sweetness and light.

after trading pleasantries, he helps you down from the rock, walking along the beach with you while softly asking if he could see your sketchbook. you would give him a sheepish expression, your cheeks being filled with heat before giving him your sketchbook as you told him your sketches “weren’t much.” as he flips through the pages, you were clearly downplaying your talents as each and every sketch was filled with a vibrancy he had never seen before.

but that all changes when jinwoo sees a sketch of himself hidden amidst the pages.

your gasp and the way you immediately tried to take the sketchbook away from him was amusing, with jinwoo holding the book up high, his eyes glowing while they took in the sight of the drawing you had made of him.

from the soft expression to the way his hair was carefully layered, jinwoo couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride, seeing how pretty you had made him.

“beautiful…” after ensuring that your sketch of him was burned into his very memories, he returns it back to you, basking in your shy expression and the way you suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. now, i’m sure you find me… strange, right?”

yet instead of teasing you further-

he asks you out on a date later that night.

and the moment you accepted his offer for a date-

the rest was history.

a single date meant as a simple thank you for allowing him to see your sketches turned into something a bit more frequent; a bit more permanent.

jinwoo would find himself spending every weekend to visit you, allowing the seemingly simple and innocent crush to grow into something much deeper.

and truly, how could he not fall in love with you?

each time you spoke passionately about your interests-

(of the sharks and colorful jellyfish that lives within the crystal blue depths of the ocean;

of the strange mushrooms seen growing within your backyard, seeming to have a life of their own as they lengthened and grew beneath the emerald green grass;

of the constellations seen shimmering within the night sky from beneath the light of the full moon…)

never once did jinwoo get tired of hearing your musings and rants that pertained to your current hyperfixations, and more often than not, he would find gifts for you that further helped strengthened your love for each and every one of your interests.

(an encyclopedia for the ocean creatures and various fungal life; a book that goes into each legend of each constellation seen within the night sky and a telescope…)

in jinwoo’s eyes, no gift was ever too much for you. for you were the sole person that stole his very heart at first sight.

when he finally put a label on his relationship with you, he swore he would never forget the look of utmost joy within your eyes. your sweet voice would call out to him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, already planting a kiss against his parted lips.

a choked sound of surprise escapes from jinwoo, making you gasp as you quickly pulled away from him. a slew of apologies were heard coming from you-

and jinwoo wasn’t having it.

with a grunt of your name, he keeps your head still before diving in for another kiss, basking in the way you momentarily let out a gasp before practically melting against him. in mere seconds, jinwoo quickly became addicted to the soft and sweet taste of your lips.

already so enamored with you, he pulls away from you, only to murmur against your lips, “you’re too sweet for me… but… i have a feeling i could get used to your taste…”

it came as no surprise when jinwoo decided to move in together with you, not being able to handle a single moment spent separated away from you. each and every day was spent in an almost blissful manner, with the s-rank hunter cherishing each and every part of you.

and tonight was no different.

for your one year anniversary, jinwoo had taken you back to the beach where you had first met, preparing a home cooked dinner that consisted of all your favorite foods. after your meal, you had laid against jinwoo’s chest while resting on the blanket, simply enjoying the colors that seemed to set the sky aflame while the sun began to set over the horizon.

jinwoo’s eyes were closed, simply basking in your warmth and the way the setting sun had painted his whole world in hues of a gentle twilight. while he was resting, he could feel your hand inching closer to his as you carefully held on to it. jinwoo could feel a smile begin to spread across his full lips as you flattened the palm of your hand against his, clearly measuring the size of your hand in comparison to his.

a soft chuckle escapes from him, “sarang, silly love of mine, just what are you doing?”

he opens up one eye to look at you, a half-smile painting his handsome features as he allowed an arm to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest as he remained laying down. basking in your giggles once more, he feels his heart began to race again the moment you lean down to press a kiss against his chest.

“i love you so much, jinwoo.”

“heh, i love you more, sarang.”

jinwoo presses a kiss against your hair while letting you play with his hands. he watches you with adoration, seeing you pick up his hand before interlocking your fingertips together. a wide grin paints his features when he gives your hand a squeeze before turning you around so that you were now settled with your back against the blanket.

your breathing comes out as gentle giggles, and jinwoo takes this chance to press several, audible smooches against your features. the more you let out those melodious sounds of your laughter, the more he kept littering your face with those achingly sweet kisses.

jinwoo successfully distracts you, and you couldn’t help but frown when you felt a sudden weight against your left ring finger. catching your shocked expression, he allows you to sit up while looking at the ring settled against your finger.

it was an incredibly cute and endearing ring, with your favorite gemstone shaped into a heart as you met jinwoo’s gaze, eyes going wide with your lips parted in response. “jinwoo… what’s this?”

“a promise.” his reply comes out as hoarse and shaky, taking your hand as he presses a kiss against the ring he had just gifted you. “i know it feels… a bit too soon to propose any… ah… commitment. but still, i wanted you to know that i’m completely serious about you.”

“this ring will serve as my promise to you… of what is to come.”

with a choked sob of his name, you lean forward to kiss him once more, perfectly slotting your lips against his as jinwoo kissed you back with just as much passion.

jinwoo knew right then and there that he had made the right decision of keeping you; for you were (and always will be) his sole light.

a.n. - when kyunnie made a second part to her most gut wrenching angst, i was so elated and happy that i wanted to write / make a daydream of hers come true. i hope i wrote your daydreams well enough! 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Neverending

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff with little to no plot

Words: 14k

Warnings: crying with references to an argument. a single reference to porn. hatred of philosophy. simp woozi who suffers from anxious perfectionism and self-deprecating thoughts.

[College/University AU] With the help of his friends' advice, Jihoon goes on a quest to become the best boyfriend he can be.

Note: I wrote this, had a mental break-down, then finished this, and now I'm sharing it with you in the hopes that it'll save you from a mental break-down of your own or perhaps it'll comfort you in some way. Hang in there, y'all!

It was no secret that Jihoon had little to no experience with romance. His friends often joked that his experience was limited to exactly seven rom-coms and a steamy romance novel from his mother’s bookshelf that he once read in a state of absolute boredom when he was grounded. 

And Jihoon was fine with that. He didn’t complain when he made it through middle school without as much as a peck from a girl (or anyone other than Soonyoung, really – he wasn’t picky). He didn’t as much as blink when it was high school graduation day and he was still as single as that one famous whale in the ocean. He merely shrugged when his friends pitied his forever-single state while he was doing his undergraduate degree. 

It wasn’t until he started working on his master’s degree that he began to feel left out. Maybe a little over 20 years of being single was just his limit, or maybe it was the constant pitying stares of his friends, or perhaps it was his mother’s not-so-subtle hints of wanting grandkids while she could still run with them – either way, Jihoon finally realised that he was lonely even with over ten friends around him.

And maybe it was this realisation that made him view the people around him differently. All of a sudden, couples seemed to surround him wherever he went. The pair of girls he always saw chatting at the café he worked at? Suddenly he was a witness to the kisses they shared in the corner seat. The guy living across the hall from him in the dormitory? Giggling and kicking his feet after his girlfriend fixed his hair as they left for their 8 am class. 

Heck, even Vernon was in a relationship, buying two to-go cups of chai tea from the café every Wednesday, a love-sick smile on his face, before heading to the park to share them with a woman the rest of their friend group could only theorise the identity of. 

If Vernon out of all people could find someone, why couldn’t he?

Then, as if the universe had heard the silent cries of Jihoon’s heart, he met you. 

Assigned to the same semester-long group project, he quickly realised that you were the only person other than him to actually do the work. It started with looks of exasperation shared across the library table the six of you gathered at, and then the two of you had no choice but to start talking. 

Talking – right, that was the first real step. At first about schoolwork – about the research questions of your project, about other courses, about complaints about your professors. Then, barely a week into knowing him, you broke the thin ice.

He could still vividly remember the way you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket just as he was about to walk away after a meeting. You smiled at him – a real smile rather than the tired polite one he had grown so accustomed to – and asked, “So, what kind of movies do you like?”

As soon as he managed to utter the words “I guess… superhero movies?” out of his mouth, you were once again tugging at his sleeve, this time dragging him in the direction of a nearby cinema. You ended up only allowing him to pay for the popcorn (and he had to beg for even that much) because it seemed you were dead-set on treating him like a prince.

That was your first date: after classes, in the darkness of the cinema, with Spiderman swinging by on the giant screen. He barely had any time to pay attention to the plot, too busy relishing in your presence and the sound of your laughter at the corny jokes. And then, as MJ and Peter Parker shared a kiss on the screen, he felt something warm on his hand – your fingers curled around his own and he couldn’t help but give them a squeeze back, his ears as red as Spiderman’s suit. 

The impromptu date was followed by another, then another, and another, until you finally had enough and pulled him to the side after class.

“Do you like me?” you asked him, a little frustrated with how slow things were going and with how awkward he still seemed.

His ears flushed red again. “Of… of course I do.” (He preferred to imagine his voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of the sentence.)

Your scowl remained. “Then be my boyfriend.”

When he nodded, you smiled and took his hand again – he told himself he’d never let yours go. 

But unfortunately, his lack of romantic experience made it difficult to gracefully slip into the role of your boyfriend. He was almost jealous of the way the role of the girlfriend came so easily to you, taking his hand so easily every day, when he spent hours at night contemplating whether he should kiss your forehead or not when you’d part ways on campus the next day. 

On one of those nights, he decided you deserved better. You deserved a better him. 

So, he grabbed his phone and texted the one friend he trusted with his life. 

[i need advice.]

[how can i be a better boyfriend?]

[YJH: that’s easy! carry her bag for her! girls love that!]

When Jihoon met you on your way to a 12 pm class, he hesitated to follow Jeonghan’s advice. Countless what-ifs floated in his head: what if you thought that it was rude, what if you wanted to carry your own things, what if you tried to carry his bag instead… Did boyfriends outside of fanfiction and romantic movies even carry their girlfriends’ things for them?

Doubts hurried out of his mind soon enough, making way for worry when he saw you adjust the tote bag on your shoulder with a grimace. He inwardly panicked at the sight of your discomfort. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” you wondered as if completely oblivious. 

“Is your bag heavy?” His brows furrowed. Before you could take another step, he slipped the bag off your shoulder and onto his own. Your grimace made sense all of a sudden. His frown deepened, but not because of your confused stare. “What do you have in here? An entire drum set?”

You laughed. “No, just my laptop and some snacks.”

Even as he bounced on his spot to test the weight, his frown remained. He glared at the bag. “Your laptop’s not that heavy.”

Your face scrunched up. “My laptop kind of broke yesterday, so I had to revive the old, heavy one.”

Jihoon’s frown disappeared. He stared up at you in surprise, and then, unable to stop himself, he offered, “Do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe I can fix it.”

“Nah,” you shrugged, “I’ll just take it to get it fixed tomorrow. My friend recommended this shop–”

“Don’t be silly,” he scolded you and continued the journey to class. “You know that the shop will take three weeks to even look at your laptop and then another three to order the necessary parts and then another five to actually fix it. You might graduate before they get it fixed.”

“Yeah?” you laughed, following after him, your hand naturally coming to rest around his own. “And you’re faster?”

“Faster, more reliable, cheaper,” he counted on his fingers before offering you a cheeky grin. When you didn’t seem too convinced, he sighed and added, “You can ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you I can do this. I’ve done this before. I fixed Junhui’s laptop just a few weeks ago; got a 5-star review.”

At that, you sighed. In the few weeks of being his girlfriend, you had learnt that he was as stubborn as he was kind. In fact, he was even more stubborn when he was being kind: you had been a first-hand witness to Jihoon physically pinning Kim Mingyu to the ground to put a bandage on a fresh cut on his cheek, all the while cursing the friend under his breath for not being more careful. You shuddered at what Jihoon might do if you continued to refuse his laptop-fixing offer.

You finally sighed again and nodded. “Should I bring it over to your place?”

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, his lips curling into a victorious smile, “I’m free this weekend so I can probably get it done before finals.”

You grinned at the thought. “If you manage to do that, I will literally marry you. You’re the best.”

He could only pray you wouldn’t mention the way his ears undoubtedly turned red again as he adjusted your bag on his shoulder and led you to your lecture room.

[YJH: help her do research for her essay] 

Jihoon let out a soft huff as he placed your bag on a seat at the library before gently pulling you to sit in the seat next to it. He let himself fall into the chair across from yours. 

“Thank you!” your chipper voice was almost enough to rid him of the muscle pain your pain caused. 

He offered a smile and a blink so slow you began to wonder if he took you for a cat. “You’re welcome.”

Then, just like a cat himself, he just sat and watched you set up on the desk. His eyes sharply followed every movement you made, sometimes lingering here or there if something particular caught his eye (your oddly fluffy pink pen was one of those particular things). “So, what are you going to be working on?”

You groaned audibly. “Research for this mythology class I’m taking. We’re supposed to make a big wiki as a class effort. Each of us got a different topic to write about. But, like, it’s more of an actual small research paper: citations, references, quotes…” You pouted. “If you weren’t here, I’d be crying by now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all – the crying part, because he actually quite enjoyed mythology. Though he hesitated just a little before saying it, he offered, “If you need a hug, just tell me.”

“You’re so cute.” You reached over the table to give him an affectionate pat on his head, effectively both praising him and fixing his windswept mess of hair. “Have you gotten around to fixing my laptop yet?”

Relaxing in his chair, he began, “I’m waiting for a part, but it’s almost fixed otherwise.”

You blinked. “What part?”

“A battery.”

“I don’t think it was a battery issue, though,” you mumbled while avoiding his eyes, not wanting to insult his competence. After all, you were pretty sure the issue was with the graphics – why else would your laptop screen flicker like a rogue disco ball?

As if reading your mind, he chuckled and pulled out his phone to check the package tracking website. “I almost fixed the main issue already, but I noticed that the battery was acting weird, so I figured I might as well fix that too.”

When he looked up from his phone again, you were staring at him with stars in his eyes. His heart thumped a little louder at the sight. “... What?”

You shrugged and turned back to your work. “Nothing.”

He pursed his lips at that and put his phone away again. In his head, he went over all the assignments he had to finish for the following week. Deciding there weren’t any that took priority (a bold lie to himself), he cleared his throat. “So, what do you have to research?”

“Greek mythology.”

“But…” He tilted his head to the side in thought – maybe you wouldn’t want his help? There he went again, he realised: hesitating. He frowned and shook his head clear before smiling at you again. “What exactly?”

“Some mythological creatures. I thought that would be more fun than the usual famous characters.”

“Creatures like… harpies and sirens?”

“Yep.” 

Realising you were already deep in the world of research, he decided to not bother you with any further questions. Instead, he slowly and as quietly as he could (but still louder than he would’ve liked) slid his chair back and headed further into the library. 

“Mythological creatures,” he mumbled to himself as he wandered between the seemingly endless shelves. Before long, he found what he was looking for. He returned to your table barely ten minutes later, placing a heap of books on it before slumping back into his chair with a deep sigh. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open the first book and flip through the pages like a man on a quest. You smiled at the sight before focusing back on your work. Even so, you heard the scribble of his pencil and the familiar sound of a sticky note getting ripped out of its block. 

Just as you stopped paying attention to him, you felt a book being pushed towards you. When you looked away from your laptop, you found the book you had just seen him read, now laid open on your side of the table, turned to face you. 

Light pink sticky notes between the closed pages and a few on the open ones: the book invited you to read. The notes carried Jihoon’s neat handwriting, retelling the contents of the page. Better yet: these were notes about mythological creatures described in the book: 

‘Chimera. pg 6: Daughter of Typhon and Echidna. pg 18: lion's body and head, snake for a tail, breathes fire?’

When you glanced back at him, smiling brightly, he was already nose-deep in a different book, paying you no attention.

[Y.JH.: watch a porno together 😉]

Jihoon stared at his friend’s message for a total of five minutes. He then decided that he should stop taking advice from Jeonghan. 

He turned to the group chat for help instead.

“You’re going to drive yourself insane before finals even start,” he warned you with a fond smile as you flipped through your worksheets, thoroughly checking each and every one to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.

You offered him a tired glare and turned back to your task. “I’m already halfway there, might as well commit.”

[X.MH.: take her on a walk. enjoy the weather.]

Minghao’s suggestion rang in his head as he watched you. After all, he himself often went on ridiculously long walks in the park when he ran into a metaphorical wall with his work and studies, as did many of his friends. Perhaps it would help you too: romance and relaxation in one – a win on two fronts.

“Do you—” He hesitated. Why did he always hesitate? Even he himself was starting to get annoyed by it. He shook his head to clear his mind and fix his hair before trying again, “Do you want to go on a walk?”

You froze. “A walk?”

He hummed. “To clear your mind. Some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not.”

You mulled it over in your head: assignments versus your adorable boyfriend?

“Fine,” you finally huffed, feigning annoyance, “but I’m going to pet every dog I see and you can’t stop me.”

He laughed at the idea, already imagining it in his head, and got up from the floor before extending a hand to help you up as well. “You’d have to try to stop me first. I’m known for attracting random dogs.”

You took his hand and stretched. “I wonder why.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and handed you your jacket before shrugging on his own. He tried not to think about how your jackets matched – almost like a couple’s item.

Soon, the two of you were walking side by side in the park, laughing at everything and nothing and Seokmin’s attempt to fit in a kids’ swing that you saw in the passing. 

As always, your hand found Jihoon’s before he could find the courage to seek your affection. Fingers squeezing together, his skin blissfully on fire against yours – he wondered why he never dared to make the first move and reach for your hand. But if he wasn’t the one to initiate, he at least had an excuse to not let you go.

“How come I’m your first girlfriend?” you wondered, searching his face for answers.

He shrugged. “You just are.”

“You really never had anyone else before?” He shook his head. “Not even a fling?” Another shake of his head. “A hook-up?” He blushed and shook his head harder. You frowned in confusion. “How? You’re, like, perfect. Other girls must have swarmed around you like bees around honey.”

“Don’t be silly,” he denied in a hushed voice, avoiding your eyes so he could act like his ears weren’t redder than the late autumn leaves. 

“I know I wanted you to be mine the moment I saw you,” you mumbled with a pout, offended on his behalf. “So, why were you single all this time then?”

Jihoon shrugged once again, his lips in a tight line of awkwardness. “I just wasn’t interested, I guess. Too busy studying.”

“Then,” you hummed in thought before turning to him again, this time eyes shining with mischief, “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

He paled. “I– Uh– Technically…”

“Technically?” you pressed eagerly.

He cleared his throat. “Technically I’ve been kissed by one person.”

“Technically?!” You were scandalised, baffled, puzzled, curious beyond belief. He could only laugh hopelessly as you stopped him and grabbed him by the shoulders to stare at him, your mouth agape. “Who was it? Was she pretty?”

“Pretty?” He grimaced. It was too late to lie now – might as well commit to his honesty streak. “In his own way, I suppose–”

“HIS?!” Your jaw dropped even more as he avoided your eyes. 

“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything–”

“No, I need the truth,” you laughed, almost maniacal with both joy and curiosity. You gripped his shoulders, promising to not let him go until you got the answers. “Who was it? Jihoon, you have to tell me.”

He sighed deeply. His head tilted back so he could stare towards the sky, calling for an extraterrestrial life-form to abduct him. He had been doing so great so far… Why did he have to be damn honest with you?

After thirty seconds, he accepted that the aliens hadn’t found his calls appealing enough. He sighed and slumped before you, head lolling forward as he confessed, “Do you know Kwon Soonyoung?”

You burst into laughter, jumping away from him to bounce in joy (Jihoon wondered if maybe the impending sense of finals’ season doom was too much for you) as you repeated, “Kwon Soonyoung? The tiger guy?”

“Of course that’s what you know him for,” he mumbled under his breath, hand reaching up to rub at his eyes so he could avoid eye contact a little longer. “Just so you know, it was nothing serious: he just decided to kiss me on the playground in, like, 6th grade one day.” He sighed deeply at the memory, still unsure how he felt about it after all these years.

But you were too busy giggling to acknowledge his dismay. “On the lips?”

He grimaced. “On the lips.”

“Full on?”

“Full on,” he sighed.

Before he could scold you to not tell anyone else (not that it mattered anyway: Soonyoung had taken it upon himself to share the tale with every person he met anyway), you were in front of him again, still smiling brightly. His scowl melted into a gentle smile at the sight – he sucked at being mad at you.

“Like this?” You leaned forward, placed your hands on his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss of your own. 

All of a sudden, Jihoon swore he was floating. He wrapped his arms around your waist to anchor himself as he leaned further into you, unwilling to part from your lips. Even as you attempted to pull away, he chased after your lips, unsatisfied until you melted back into the kiss. 

When he finally ran out of air, you began giggling, a shy glow on your cheeks as you looked at his still-closed eyes. “So?”

“What?” he wondered, slow to open his eyes, and even when he finally did, his eyelids drooped like he was still waking up from the sweetest of dreams. 

“Was the kiss historically accurate?” you joked, leaning closer to brush your nose against his.

He was unable to even laugh. Only a dopey smile appeared on his face as he whispered, “No, it was so much better.”

[H.JS.: surprise her with flowers]

[i dont know what kind of flowers she likes tho??]

[W.JH.: unless she’s allergic, i dont think it matters]

Despite still being unsure whether the group chat was helpful or just plain useless, Jihoon followed their advice like it was the law. 

Flowers? He could find flowers. Easy. They’re sold almost everywhere. Surely, he could figure out something as simple and universal as flowers. 

Wrong.

The moment he stepped into the flower store, he felt like a five-year-old left unattended in a new city. He hadn’t even realised there were so many options. He gulped. 

“Can I help you?” an oddly familiar voice called out to him and he whipped his head around in search of the speaker. He found Wonwoo staring back at him, his eyes shining with mischief upon recognising his new customer.

Jihoon grimaced. “I– Nevermind.” 

But when he tried to leave, Wonwoo grabbed him by the hood of his white sweatshirt and dragged him further into the store. “Are you going to buy your girlfriend flowers? Like Joshua suggested?”

“I– No– Why would I–” Jihoon’s resolve broke under Wonwoo’s knowing glare. He lowered his gaze to the floor and sheepishly nodded. 

Wonwoo let out a small sound of victory before asking, “So, what kind of flowers do you want to get her?”

“That’s the thing,” Jihoon sighed deeply, “I have no clue what to get.”

His florist friend hummed in understanding. “Is she more of a daisy or a rose girl?”

Jihoon offered him a confused look. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve only dated her for a month.”

“Roses may be a bit much then,” Wonwoo concluded with a squint of his eyes before heading somewhere in the store, once again grabbing Jihoon by the hood and dragging him along. 

Jihoon could only whine quietly in protest. “Can you stop doing that?”

“No.” The answer was plain, clear, and left no room for argument. “I think tulips are the way to go.”

Jihoon had no further complaints as Wonwoo began piling flowers into his arms. Once he was satisfied, he led Jihoon to the counter – by the hood, once again, as if he was a cat mom carrying her kitten – and began arranging them into a bouquet. 

“Do you want me to tie a bow for them?” he asked but Jihoon gave him no answer.  When he looked up again, his love-sick friend was staring at the newly-complete bouquet in awe.  Wonwoo smiled and handed him the flowers. “There. Do you think she’ll like them?”

“I– How did you know… ?”

Wonwoo’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Was I right?”

Jihoon could only nod before fishing his wallet out. “I seriously owe you one. You’re good at this.”

On the way to your dorm, he couldn’t stop staring at the bouquet. The tulips were exactly the colours he associated with you, as if Wonwoo had read his mind and translated it into flowers. Now he could only adjust them a little and pray you’d like them as much as he did.

A deep breath. A soft knock on your door. 

Your roommate opened the door, her eyes lighting up with excitement upon recognising him and noticing the flowers in his arms. She practically dragged him inside while calling out to you, “(Y/n), your Prince Charming arrived!”

Before he could say anything, she patted his shoulder and leaned over to whisper “She’ll love them” before all but bouncing out the front door, offering him one last cheeky wink before she left. 

“Jihoon?” he then heard you call out from a distance. “Is that you?”

He called back a confirmation before following your voice to your room. Just as he often did, he found you seated on your bed, your (newly fixed) laptop in front of you, surrounded by endless pages of homework and research. He smiled at the familiar sight.

“Are you busy studying again?” he wondered, his voice impossibly soft just like his heart was for you. “Should I come back later?”

Without looking up, you shook your head. “No, no, please stay. I just have to finish this table and then–” Your gaze lifted to meet his by habit, at which point your jaw dropped. Soon, a smile forced itself onto your face. “Jihoon!”

He feigned ignorance, his lips quirking. “Why?”

“Did you–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, unable to find the words as tears of joy gathered in the corners of your eyes. Pursing your lips to will yourself to not cry, you got up from the bed and walked over to hug him. You held him tight while he just laughed fondly. 

“Why?” he asked again, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek. 

You pouted. “You got me flowers?”

When you stepped back, he lifted up the bouquet and asked, “What? This?” You nodded and he laughed again, so completely endeared by your reaction. “Do you like them that much?”

“I love them,” you said and took the flowers from his hands, already rushing to the kitchen to fill a vase with flowers. Despite not leaving your room, he could hear you mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really going to make me cry at this rate.”

Upon returning with a vase full of water and beautiful flowers, you placed it on your desk by the window. The afternoon light hit them just right and it made you want to cry even more. 

You turned to him again. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers like this before. They’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you,” he spoke before his mental filter could catch it. He bit down on his tongue the moment he closed his mouth, unable to believe he let the words slip without even thinking about them. 

To his relief, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the carelessly spoken compliment made you glow even more. You laughed in joy and pulled him to sit with you on the bed. He could barely find his balance on the soft mattress before your lips were on his. 

He decided he’d gift you flowers more often if this was the thanks he earned.

On a sleepless night, Jihoon came to an embarrassing realisation: he had never once initiated a kiss with you. In fact, when it came to physical affection, he hadn’t initiated anything. 

The realisation was greatly aided by Boo Seungkwan’s 2 am reply to another one of Jihoon’s cries for help. 

[B.SK.: kiss her, you idiot!]

“Kiss her?” Jihoon re-read the message the next day before grimacing in anxiety. He couldn’t even hold your hand without blushing – how was he supposed to initiate a whole kiss? Knowing him, he’d probably accidentally end up kissing your nose or, even worse, ear. The thought made him want to cry so he curled up on a random beanbag on campus, hugging his backpack to his chest, and glared at the message Seungkwan had sent him. 

“Who made my Jihoon upset?” your voice carried through the hallway. He looked up to find you walking towards him, a bright smile on your face. Catching his gaze, you smiled brighter before adding to your joke, “Should I go beat someone up? Who was it? Mingyu? Soonyoung?”

“Seungkwan,” he mumbled against the fabric of his bag as you approached him and pressed a kiss to his temple. He could practically feel his ears betraying him and squeezed his eyes shut to will the blush to leave. 

Your hand found his hair, stroking it gently. “Seungkwan? The guy who hosts almost every campus event?” He nodded solemnly and you scoffed. “I can take Seungkwan. He should be afraid of me.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, opening his eyes to glance up at you. He didn’t dare to move with the way you were still stroking his dark hair, looking at him so fondly. What if you were startled by his movement and never played with his hair again? No, he couldn’t risk it. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the feeling. 

Without even realising it, he leaned into your embrace like a pet looking for warmth. Soon, his head rested against your chest, your fingers still in his hair while his own curled into the fabric of your blouse. He wished this moment lasted forever and then some more. 

“So, what did Seungkwan do that you’re like this?” you wondered and he felt the rumble of your voice. He suddenly found he liked it even better this way. 

With a small smile on his face, he whispered, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” you wondered. “He must’ve done something.”

“He’s just annoying.” If it hadn’t been for your questions, Jihoon would’ve fallen asleep right there, pressed against you like a tired child. But instead, he came to an annoying realisation. “Do you not have a jacket today?”

“Nope,” he heard you reply.

He hissed at that, gently slapping your side as punishment for crimes against yourself. “It’s cold outside.”

“I run hot,” you made an excuse.

He scoffed. “You whined you were cold the last time you came to my dorm, even though it’s only, like, two degrees colder there than yours.”

You stayed silent at that. He basked in your warmth for a little longer before sitting back up straight and glaring at you. He then fidgeted with the sleeves of your blouse for a moment before scoffing and standing up to pull off his black hoodie. Unceremoniously, he shoved it to you, paying no mind to the puzzled look on your face.

“Put it on,” he finally told you when you made no move to read his mind. “I won’t baby you if you get sick.”

“I won’t get sick–” you began to protest only for him to roll his eyes, grab the hoodie, and pull it over your head himself. 

His hands gently guided your own through the sleeves before reaching down to pull the rest of the hoodie down as much as he could. (He made a mental note to invest in a longer hoodie for next time.) As a final touch, he reached up to pull the hood over your head, tying the strings into a neat bow below your chin once he had pulled the fabric around your head – tight enough to make you look just a little bit goofy. 

Surprised by his actions, you were frozen in place in front of him. With your cheeks squished by the fabric, you looked just so damn adorable. Jihoon didn’t even think before leaning closer and pressing his lips against your slightly pouted ones. 

He pulled away, nodded and smiled – satisfied with his handiwork. The realisation of his actions wouldn’t hit him for another hour.

[W.JH.: i heard her class is having a big seminar this wednesday. maybe you should cheer for her?]

[how would i do that…?]

Jihoon never received a reply to his question. Odd, and incredibly annoying. But he guessed it was only fair: his friends couldn’t give him all the answers. Some things he’d have to figure out himself. 

Just as he was contemplating on what to do, his phone buzzed. Hoping for a late reply from his friends, he immediately reached for his phone. To his surprise, it was a message from you instead:

[Y/N: if u never hear from me again, assume i had a heart attack in front of the classroom]

[Y/N: god, i hate seminars so much]

Jihoon paused. Is this what Junhui had meant? He took a deep breath and typed a reply.

[where are you? i’ll come to you.]

He was halfway out of the building by the time you answered.

[Y/N: linguistics building, seminar 321]

Despite never having been to the linguistics’ building before and having close to zero clue where he would even find this room, he ran to where you said you’d be. His lungs were burning from lack of air by the time he got to you and yet his heart ached even more than they did: all it took was one look at your shaky hands as you paced back and forth outside of the seminar room. 

“Are you… Are you okay?” he asked through his laboured breaths once he reached you, his hand immediately reaching for yours to ease the shaking. 

You sighed in relief at the sight of him. “Jihoon…”

“I’m here,” he whispered with an encouraging smile before letting you burrow into his embrace. On most days, he would have much rather dug a hole and crawled in there than let anyone show him this kind of affection in public. But he was willing to make an exception for you.

Then he spotted the familiar baffled face of Soonyoung from the corner of his eyes and cringed: he would never live this down.

“I’m so nervous about my presentation,” you whispered into his jacket and all of his attention was back on you as if by magic. 

He scoffed out a laugh, unable to believe your words. “Are you kidding? You’ll be great.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen you give presentations before,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on your head. “You did great the last time, I doubt this time will be different.”

You wanted to cry at the memory, completely unable to see it the way he did. “I stuttered the entire time and mixed up the slides.”

“Yeah, but it was still fine.”

“It was so embarrassing.”

“It was endearing,” he argued immediately. “Besides, you laughed it off and you still got the maximum grade. Sometimes mistakes happen, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be the end of the world.”

You leaned out of his embrace to chuckle hopelessly. “I can’t decide if you’re really good or really bad at giving motivational speeches.”

“But do you feel better?” You nodded and he grinned brightly. “Then that’s all you need. Now go on in and show them what they’re missing in— What class is this?”

“Environmental Anthropology,” you answered with a sigh and he grimaced: it sounded far from appealing and he didn’t even dare ask if it was an elective or a mandatory subject.

Deciding to just go with it, he forced on a smile (his eyebrows still high on his forehead as half of his brain tried to figure out what that course even dealt with) and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Go get them, tiger.”

You laughed at his expression and nodded, feeling a little better already. You turned to head into class, but turned on your heel at the last moment, catching his eyes. He raised a single brow in question and you asked, “Can we go out to eat after this?”

He frowned, eyes saddening. “I wish I could. I have work in an hour. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

However, he could never stand the look of disappointment that grazed your face every once in a while. And when it made an appearance once again, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. “But,” he started and you seemed to lighten up already, “you could come to the café and hang out with me there. My treat,” he promised before pointing an accusatory finger at you, “but only if you ace that presentation.”

“I… I can do that,” you nodded, more to convince yourself than him. “Yeah. I can definitely do that.”

Jihoon spent the next two hours panicking on your behalf. 

Even as he took orders and made cup after cup after cup of coffee, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t help but feel like he could’ve done more to boost your confidence. Hell, who wants to hear they were ‘endearing’ during a presentation they felt like they messed up on? 

When the third hour of waiting began, he was half-sure you wouldn’t come to the café. Perhaps you had failed miserably or maybe you really did have a heart attack in front of the classroom. Jihoon was on the verge of spiralling.

“Okay, you’re going to burn your hand at this rate,” Seokmin scolded before ushering him away from the espresso machine. “Just man the register. I’ll deal with the coffee. God, what’s up with you today?”

Jihoon let out a soft whine of protest but followed the orders, waddling over to the register. It was a slow day and he was still messing up – what were you doing to him?

“So?” Seokmin asked again after delivering a customer’s flat white. 

“What?” Jihoon was barely even paying attention to the fact that he was being spoken to. His eyes were constantly stuck on the door. 

Any moment now. Any moment you’d walk in, a smile on your face, telling him you passed. Any moment.

Seokmin raised a brow. “What’s bothering you? Seriously, you’re not usually this aloof. Why are you staring at the door?”

“(Y/n)” was all Jihoon managed to mumble.

But it was enough for his friend. Seokmin laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“What if she isn’t?” Jihoon whispered, still stuck in a dazed mix of anxiety and hope. “What if I messed up?”

Before Seokmin could even begin to comfort him, Jihoon felt like he could breathe again. There you were, practically running towards the café in your rush to get to him. He didn’t even realise he was leaning further and further towards the door, leaning against the countertop under Seokmin’s amused eyes. 

“Jihoon!” you called out once you made it to the café, dashing up the counter to pull his face to yours and press your lips against his. After pulling away again, you smiled brightly. “Guess what?”

He forgot all the vocabulary he had acquired over his life. Your name was the closest thing to a word in there. He was just glad to see you again.

You rolled your eyes at his silence but still laughed. “Jihoon, I told you to guess.”

He cleared his throat and prayed his ears weren’t too red before he found his voice. “You passed?”

“I passed,” you confirmed with an excited fist pump in the air, “and the professor said I had the best presentation in the whole course.”

“Whoa, go, girl!” Seokmin cheered, bumping his fist against yours in celebration.

Jihoon matched your bright smiles and told you, “I knew you could do it. Come on, pick what you want to eat. My treat.”

As you excitedly went to check out the cake options, Seokmin stared at him in awe. Jihoon shrugged. “What?”

“How come you never treat me?” his friend sounded almost offended.

“You never asked.”

Seokmin frowned and turned to you. “Did you ask him to treat you?”

“Nope.”

He turned to glare at Jihoon again. “Favouritism. Clear favouritism. I’ll remember this.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jihoon argued with a puzzled frown of his own.

[W.JH.: tie her shoelaces]

Walks in the park or even just around the campus became a routine for the two of you very quickly. More often than not, your shared study sessions in the library would lead to a shared knowing look, standing up in silence, and heading out the door for a break. Always hand-in-hand, like puzzle pieces.

The weather was windier than usual that day, blowing dead leaves and hats around the park grounds. Who knows how long it would be before snow would join the items flying in the wind – the temperature of the air certainly suggested it would happen soon. 

Jihoon barely managed to catch your scarf before it fell victim to the wind. 

“Maybe not the best day for a walk,” he concluded with a sheepish laugh while wrapping the scarf around your neck a little tighter than before, making sure it wouldn’t fly again. 

You laughed along. “Yeah, maybe we should’ve gone to the café instead.”

He sighed deeply – as a joke – before narrowing his eyes at you. “Just say you’re dating me for café discounts. Admit it.”

“Well,” you hummed, “your staff discounts are definitely a bonus.”

He chuckled and nudged your side. “Do you want to go to the café then? Maybe some cocoa could warm you up.”

“But some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not,” you repeated his own words back to him with a mischievous smile.

“Is that–?” His jaw dropped. “How do you even remember that?”

“It was a very memorable quote by my favourite author,” you joked and pinched his cheek before grabbing his hand to lead him to the café.

You barely made it two steps before he was tugging you to a stop, his gaze lowered. You blinked. “Did something happen?” 

He didn’t reply. A message from Junhui flashed in his mind. Was he allowed to follow his advice like that? And if so, what was the best way to go about it? Crouching down? Leading you to a bench and making you lift your foot? Fully kneeling in front of you like the simp he was? 

Ears burning under your questioning stare, he finally leaned down onto one knee, his fingers reaching for your shoelaces. 

Your heart skipped a beat as realisation hit. 

With what you could only assume was practised grace (because who knows how many times he had repeated this exact gesture for his friends – Soonyoung alone must have accounted for at least twenty), he gently pulled your foot closer to himself and gently double-knotted the laces. He decided to re-do the other shoe as well if he was already on task. 

Once both shoes were undoubtedly tied and unable to come undone without permission again, he hummed in approval and stood back up, brushing the dirt off his knee before his gaze lifted to meet yours. He offered a sheepish smile at the dazed look on your face. 

“Why?” he laughed.

“You’re seriously–” you began but never finished, reaching for his hand instead. 

[K.MG.: give her a nickname]

Jihoon wasn’t very fond of nicknames. He wasn’t like Jeonghan who could come up with a new dumb nickname for every person he met or like Soonyoung who could react to any nickname thrown his way. Jihoon was just Jihoon and his friends were just his friends – no nicknames needed.

So, when he read Mingyu’s message, he froze. A nickname for his girlfriend? It felt like such an enormous task.

Stuck in an endless loop of processing even weeks after, Jihoon still couldn’t come up with a nickname that felt like you. Nothing sounded quite as pretty or as melodious as your name. Nothing came even close in his mind. When he thought of you, it was always just (Y/n). 

And it wasn’t like you had given him a nickname either. He would’ve noticed if you had – he noticed everything you did. 

If anyone saw into his brain, they would’ve seen a suspicious number of facts and quirks of yours. They would’ve thought he was a spy trying to steal your identity. But he was nothing of the sort. The only thing he aimed to steal was your heart (and maybe a kiss, or two, or two hundred).

Frankly, Vernon was sick of the sound of Jihoon’s pen rolling back and forth, struggling between gravity and Jihoon’s strength, on the slanted desk of their shared room. If having to contemplate cheesy pet names with a distraught Jihoon was the answer, Vernon was willing to sacrifice a bit of his sanity for a different background audio. 

“Maybe see if a pet name would work,” he suggested upon seeing his misery. 

Jihoon blinked. “Pet name? Like Fluffy?”

“No, like–” Vernon’s brows furrowed. “Dude, are you okay? Should I call a doctor?”

Jihoon only groaned and slumped over his desk, fully resting his cheek against it now. 

“I meant nicknames like babe and sweetheart and the sort,” his roommate explained, brows still set in a concerned frown. “Why would you call her Fluffy?”

“At this rate, I might as well.”

Vernon was scandalised. “Call her Fluffy?!”

Jihoon sat up straight to frown at Vernon. “No, see if I find a pet name I like for her. What is wrong with you?”

“You started it!”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, what do you have to offer?”

“Let’s start with the basics,” Vernon suggested, leaning back on his bed happily now that the pen was no longer obnoxiously rolling. “Babe?”

“Gross.”

“Baby?” 

“Even worse.”

“Sweetheart.”

Jihoon hesitated. “I– Maybe? Let’s put that under maybe.”

“Great! That’s progress,” Vernon cheered with a smile before resuming his position. “Then, what about dear?”

“Sounds so old-fashioned. I don’t want to sound like an English grandma whenever I call for my girlfriend.”

Vernon froze before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there.”

They were both tired of the guessing game by the time fifteen minutes passed. They bid each other farewell and headed their separate ways. It was only noon.

The solution? Non-existent. Jihoon still didn’t know what to call you.

And to add to his problems, he soon realised he hadn’t heard from you all day. Your chat was no more full than the previous evening, his call history was even worse off. He hadn’t even seen you on campus. 

Worry got the worst of him and now he was taking the first step instead of you. His worry won over his hesitation and he called you, lifting his phone to his ear all the while glancing around campus anxiously.

You didn’t pick up the first call. Nor the second. Before pressing on the screen to call a third time, he silently swore he’d run through all of your usual spots if you left him hanging like this. Heck, he might even call the police.

“Jihoon?” he then heard your voice through the phone and a stone fell off his heart.

He sighed in relief. “(Y/n), are you okay? I was worried.”

“Dorm,” you whispered meekly into the mic, elaborating no further no matter how much he prompted you. 

His frown only grew with every passing moment of silence on your part. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Please,” you whispered once again and then he heard the most heart-breaking sound: a soft sob. You were crying. 

He cursed under his breath. You were crying and he wasn’t there. “Hold on a little longer, I’ll be there.”

He wasted not a second more and sprinted to your dormitory. With his hands shaking from both worry and exhaustion, it took him two tries to get the door code right, but once the door clicked open, he dashed up the stairs and to your room. 

The door of your room was unlocked and ajar when he arrived and he just about fell through it in an attempt to lean against it for a quick breath. He stumbled into your room and his heart dropped some more, so close to shattering.

“(Y/n), darling,” he whispered before practically throwing himself into the spot next to you, already pulling you into his embrace, “what happened?”

You didn’t say anything, quietly crying into his sweater instead. Jihoon almost wanted to cry with you. “Talk to me. What happened? What can I do to make it better?”

“I fought with my roommate,” you whispered eventually. “I might have to move out.”

“Move out?” he wondered. “Was it that bad?” You didn’t answer, only letting out another soft sob as you further burrowed into his arms. He sighed. “Oh, darling.”

You remained in his arms for a while, stuck between crying over a lost friendship and relishing in his comfort. “I thought she was my friend. God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he protested immediately, perhaps even a little too forcefully for your fragile emotional state. He sighed once again, deeper, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to help you find a new place to stay?”

“I could just ask to be assigned to a different dorm,” you mumbled. “It’s no big deal.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to get your own apartment though?”

“I mean… It would be nice.”

“I can help you pay the deposit,” he offered. He wasn’t sure if he was always this kind or if seeing you so broken made him overcompensate more than usual – come to think of it: there was clearly a pattern forming.

Either way – he mentally ran over the numbers in his bank account –, he could afford to help. 

You sighed. “You don’t have to, Jihoon, it’s fine–”

“Don’t argue with me,” he warned half-jokingly. “Do you want to get your own place or not?”

Still leaning into his chest, you looked up at him. “You’d– You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he shrugged as if he had only offered you a candy bar. “Besides, if you get your own place, I benefit too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Vernon not letting you sleep in again?”

“I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so bad,” he whispered while squeezing his eyes shut. “And he’s so messy. I need a break every once in a while.”

“So, your only condition is that I let you sleep over?” you chuckled and kissed his cheek which promptly turned red. “Why not just move in with me then?”

He blushed harder. “I think it’s too early for that. Maybe in a few months.”

You pouted at that. “You’re so mean. I was so ready to celebrate moving in with my boyfriend. Tsk.”

“Give me a few months,” he whispered – promised. “I’ll be with you in just a few months, darling.”

[J. WW.: take her on a picnic in the park during your free period. i hear the cherry trees are blossoming.]

Sandwiches, cake from the café, a thermos full of your favourite tea, a blanket – was anything missing? Well, other than his courage, because he had been staring at the basket for at least half an hour now as if his feet were nailed to the kitchen floor. 

Even Vernon, as patient as he was, had begun to contemplate how to unglue Jihoon so he could freely access the fridge again. 

“Dude,” he finally sighed, “can you move? I’m hungry.”

“There’s food on the stove,” Jihoon mumbled off-handedly, still in a panicked daze. Vernon glanced towards the stove and found nothing on it. 

Why was he so panicked anyway? It was one thing to hesitate before kissing you, but this? This was worse. He was paralysed by fear and he didn’t even understand why.

It’s not like this was your first date.

“Have you never taken a girl out on a date before?” Vernon wondered, brows furrowing as he attempted to make sure his roommate hadn’t been replaced by a faulty android or a hologram.

And just as the words left Vernon’s mouth, Jihoon seemed to wake up. His eyes widened. “I’ve never taken a girl out on a date before.”

Vernon blinked. “You’ve been dating her since, like, fall.”

“Yeah, but she initiated everything,” Jihoon whined, suddenly hyper aware of the way his knees felt like jelly and his hands trembled. 

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“First date?”

“She took me to the movies.”

“First kiss?” 

“She went in first.”

“Who asked the other one out?”

“She asked me.” Jihoon let out another whine. “God, I’m so bad at this whole boyfriend thing. Isn’t there, like, a manual or something?”

“If there is, you’d probably be better off,” Vernon pointed out with a chuckle. “Dude, if she’s stuck with you this long, then she’s not going to break up with you over you taking her on a picnic.”

“But what if she’s actually busy or it rains or–”

“What’s with you and all those what-ifs? Just get out there, take her hand and have a picnic.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Jihoon whispered and hung his head in shame.

“Because it is that easy.”

It was not, in fact, that easy. Jihoon tripped almost three times just on the way to meet you at the park – that’s how nervous he was. And it’s not like he was afraid of you or your reaction. 

He just wanted everything to be perfect. Because you were perfect. And if he couldn’t be perfect with or for you, what was even the point?

Still, even as his nerves threatened to make him throw up in a nearby garbage can, he braved through the anxiety and made his way over to you. He forced on a smile as he approached you, but it soon melted into a genuine one upon seeing your excited grin.

“Hi, darling,” he whispered before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

“It’s barely afternoon,” you joked. Jihoon grimaced: first strike. Two more and he’d pay someone to throw him off a bridge. (He noted that Seungcheol or Joshua seemed like a good choice for that.)

“So,” you rubbed your palms together after helping him set the blanket on the ground, “what are we eating?”

He breathed out shakily before opening the basket. “So… there’s sandwiches – I didn’t know which ones you’d like more so I made a bunch of everything, but if you don’t like any, I’ll run to the store and–”

“Jihoon,” you stopped him with a stern smile and a pat on his cheek – strike two –, “baby, stop acting like it’s the first time we’ve interacted. There’s no need to be shy with me. I love you regardless.”

“I’m sorry, I just–”

“Stop apologising.” Strike three – might as well decide on a bridge now.

“I just want everything to be perfect for you,” he admitted with a sad smile, “but I guess I get too in my own head about it and then–”

You leaned forward and kissed him before he could go any further. When you leaned back, his eyes were wide in disbelief. 

“You– Why did you do that?”

“You were rambling too much.” You smiled at him again, sweeter this time, before kissing him once more. “Everything is perfect already. This picnic is perfect. The weather is perfect. This moment is perfect. You’re perfect. Don’t worry so much. Just breathe and enjoy.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours once again: a gift because you always knew exactly what to say.

“So,” your smile never seemed to fade, “can you stop worrying about everything now?”

He breathed out a defeated sigh and nodded, earning a cheer from you. 

As the two of you began eating, he made conversation, “So, how’s your apartment search going?”

You shrugged. “I’ve found two places. I’m going to see the second one tomorrow, but the first one is very nice. Like, way too nice for that price.”

“And that’s bad somehow?” He laughed.

“It’s way below market rate. It’s too good to be true,” you told him with a soft sigh, closing your eyes as he mindlessly reached to play with your fingers. “I wonder what the quirk is. Like, why is it so cheap? The landlord seemed like a sweet woman and all, but there’s bound to be something weird about that place, right?”

“Maybe it’s haunted,” he joked, making a ‘scary’ face as he stared at you, only to prompt a laugh. 

“Will you come and save me if it is?”

He grimaced. “Hell no. Ghosts are scary business. You’d have to find a different boyfriend.”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed and patted his cheek, “leave all the saving to me instead, then. I’ll protect you.”

“My hero,” he swooned, a hand over his heart. 

You stared at the ceiling of your new bedroom, practically vibrating with anxiety about the day to come as well as the added responsibilities of adulting outside of a dorm. 

Jihoon, having agreed to stay a few nights for mental support (and a Marvel movie marathon), gave you a weird look.

“Sorry,” you apologised and willed your body to stay still, sure you had annoyed your boyfriend into leaving, “I guess I’m just more nervous about tomorrow than I thought.”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” he chuckled and leaned over to brush a stray hair off your forehead. “It’s just a seminar. You’ve been to those before.”

“Yeah, but this one’s in a foreign language,” you whined and rolled over to hide your face in his chest. “You know my French sucks.”

He scoffed but was thoroughly amused. “I’ve never even heard you speak French.”

“Exactly. Point proven. Now let me suffer in peace.”

Jihoon sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your head. “Is there any way I can help you feel better?”

You shook your head ‘no’ and burrowed further into the comforting darkness his sweater provided. You had no interest in being comforted – what you needed was to go to sleep before 3 am and not wake up with nightmares. Unfortunately, Jihoon couldn’t do that for you, as amazing as he was.

He was just as stumped, but less in the mood to give up. In fact, he was rarely in the mood to give up. 

Still feeling you shaking in his arms, he reached his free hand to get his phone and text the group chat once again, begging for help as he had done so many times before. The help came faster than ever before, as if his friends had a shared 7th sense for Jihoon’s girlfriend troubles.

[C.VN.: bro, arent u good at singing? have u sung to her?]

[but… what do i sing?]

[K.SY.: a song.]

[whaT SONG?]

[X.MH.: you’re literally a music major, i’m sure you can think of a song or two??]

[i’m a uni student, not a jukebox??]

With sleep still unwilling to claim you, you sighed deeply. There was no room to further burrow into your boyfriend’s comforting embrace. An idea hit: maybe a cup of nice peppermint tea could calm you down. 

“Ji, can we go make–” you quietly began but were interrupted by a soft rumbling of his chest. And then you heard it: he was humming. You lifted your head to watch him, unable to tear your eyes from the way his lips oh-so-gracefully parted to sing to you, even as he was still searching for the lyrics on his phone.

Suddenly realising you had said something, he paused, eyes widening as he looked at you. “Sorry, did you say something?”

You shook your head no and continued staring at him. 

Awkward under you gaze, his ears flushed red. He avoided your eyes and turned back to his phone, scrolling through it as a distraction: ads had never looked so interesting before.

“Keep singing,” you whispered to him, hoping he’d hear your plea and fulfil your wish.

He took a deep breath, his hand freezing on the tiny screen. And just as you had hoped, his lips parted again. This time, he really sang, lyrics and all. His voice carried through your room, echoing back from the yet-to-be-decorated walls and filling the space in a comforting manner.

As you listened to him, you realised he had never sung to you before. He had hidden this part of himself for so long. And yet you were already enamoured with it. 

When he finished one song, his lips pursed back together and he hummed a mysterious melody that you could only suspect he had come up with on the spot to fill the silence. Then he began a second song, then a third.

By the fifth song, you were blissfully unaware of your daily troubles and the seminar waiting for you at 10 am. You were deep asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you ever had.

Upon realising you had finally succumbed to the call of dreamland, Jihoon chuckled and locked his phone. His newly free hand reached to stroke your cheek. 

“Little Miss Can’t Fall Asleep falls asleep a lot easier than she claims,” he joked to noone in particular and craned his neck to press another kiss to your temple before settling back down and closing his own eyes. 

[S.SC.: go shopping with her. i’m sure she needs some things for her new place. she might appreciate the company.]

“I still don’t understand how you don’t have a car,” you started up the topic for the third time this hour. 

Jihoon had never considered you annoying before – not even to the mildest extent – but he was slowly starting to get annoyed. He sighed. “Getting a licence seems like such a hassle.”

“It’s freeing,” you argued, amused by your new-found ability to annoy him even the tiniest bit. “You don’t depend on public transportation or your friends anymore. It’s great.”

“I can get everywhere on foot just fine.” He rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to cover your mouth as you began to speak again. “Didn’t you say you needed new towels? I’m pretty sure we walked straight past those.”

Unable to form proper words under the weight of his hand, you just hummed and let him lead you back to the towel aisle. It was only once you were there that he removed his hand again, wiping it against his hoodie. “Why do you need new towels anyway? It’s not like the ones you’ve used so far are contaminated.”

“It’s the principle, Jihoon,” you told him while scanning through the options. “New place, new me – that type of deal.”

“Sounds like a trick of capitalism,” he joked and leaned his torso forward against the shopping cart you had already half-filled with baskets, blankets, cushions and pillows of all shapes and sizes. 

You turned to glare at him. “Are you my boyfriend or my financial advisor?”

“Both, if you pay me well enough.”

“Whatever. What colour towels should I get?”

He shrugged. “I’m a big fan of the colour black.”

You sighed. “That’s so boring. How about blue?”

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I could be persuaded.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” you sang and picked up two of the larger fluffy blue towels – one lighter and the other darker in shade. You barely managed to fit them in the cart before your eyes lit up with a new quest in sight. “Oh, we need slippers too.”

He only hummed and swiftly (or as swiftly as one can move a shopping cart that clearly has never been maintained in the 10 years it's been in use) manoeuvred the cart to follow after you. Once he finally found you in the footwear aisle, he was confronted by two pairs of slippers – one black, the other baby pink – in his face. He tilted his head to offer you a confused look.

Without any malice behind it, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Pick a colour.”

“Black.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know you’re waiting for me to tell you ‘pink’ and I’m not giving you nor Mingyu that satisfaction,” he countered before nodding towards his colour of choice again. “Black.”

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat and placed the pink ones back, only to pick up a different size of the same colour and place it in the cart. 

His eyebrows rose. “What are you–?”

“What size slippers do you wear?” 

“Me?” He frowned. “Why would my opinion on any of this matter? It’s your apartment. Why are you making me choose the colour of the towels and the shower curtain and the–” 

He fell silent, his mouth still ajar in wordless awe as the realisation hit. You tried your hardest to act cool under his disbelieving stare.

“I– I’m not moving in with you,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he reached for your arm as if to comfort you. “We talked about this. I still need some time.”

“I’m not asking you to move in yet,” you laughed sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. “I just thought it would be nice if you could visit without worrying about bringing your things. You’re my boyfriend. I just want you to be comfortable when you come over to stay the night or when you don’t feel like going back to your and Vernon’s place after a long day and–”

Your words faded to the background as he continued staring at you. He was so used to being the one full of hesitation, overthinking his actions, trying to act nonchalant when he finally committed. Seeing you do the same? His heart grew two sizes larger and suddenly he couldn’t contain himself. 

Without thinking about it, he pulled you into a hug, effectively silencing your doubts and rambled justifications just like you had done for him so many times before. 

“You should’ve just said so, silly,” he laughed and held you even tighter.

[C.VN.: u know, i heard study dates are popular with the girls]

[you’re just trying to get me out of the dorm, aren't you?]

[C.VN.: u cant prove anything]

Sitting across from him in the living room, you watched in silence as Jihoon tapped away at his keyboard. His fingers seemed to fly across the keys at the speed of light, typing out a word and then deleting it. He did so a thousand times before huffing out a sigh and leaning his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“Have you tried taking a break?” you asked him softly, wanting not to scare or irritate him.

His head lolled back to a normal position and he offered an unamused raise of his brows. “Have you seen me take any breaks?”

You grimaced. “Then maybe it’s time to take a break now.”

“Sorry, darling,” he sighed and shook his head, “I need this essay finished by midnight. I’ve been putting this off for too long as it is.”

 You glanced at the clock. “Midnight’s still 10 hours away though. You have time to take a break.”

He rolled his eyes and glared at his laptop screen. A blank page with only the title ‘Western Philosophy 101 Final Essay’ mocked him. “A break from what? I haven’t even done anything.”

“You’ve been thinking hard.”

“Darling, I don’t think you understand how essay-writing works. There’s no use in thinking if no writing comes out of it.”

You reached over to take his hands off the keyboard. His fingers instinctively wrapped around yours, squeezing them just enough to comfort the both of you. “Writing will come out of it if you just relax and just take a break, I promise.”

Jihoon wanted to argue, he really did. But then he looked up from the screen and into your eyes, tempting him to just agree. And while he wasn’t one to give up easily, he was definitely someone who wanted fulfil every wish his loved-ones ever made.

And so, he gave up this time. Defeated, he slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright, what do you have in mind?”

“How long do you have?” you asked, feeling mischievous all of a sudden. 

He glanced at his watch before shrugging. “An hour, maybe.”

That was all you needed to pull him towards yourself by the hands. He stumbled a little, just about falling into your lap with a whine of protest before settling exactly where he landed, too tired to care further. His eyes fell closed the moment he felt your warmth against himself.

Without even thinking about it, you reached down to play with his hair. The silky strands ran through your fingers with ease and Jihoon could only hum in appreciation at the gesture. While this wasn’t the cuddle position you had had in mind, you couldn’t say no to the rare chance to dote on your otherwise independent boyfriend.

“This is nice,” he sighed softly and nuzzled his face against your belly, happy to hide from his horrible philosophy final. He lazily opened one eye to look at you, admiring you with the same love as you did him. “We should do this more often.”

“I would love to,” you told him with a sweet laugh and he was glad that he was lying down because his knees felt a little weak all of a sudden. “See, I told you you needed a break.”

He hummed in agreement, closing his eye again. “I feel like I might fall asleep though. And then who will finish my essay? You?”

“How about I just wake you up in, like, 40 minutes instead?” you offered.

With a cheerful giggle, he hid his face further into the fabric of your shirt. His voice sounded muffled as he spoke, “You don’t like philosophy either?”

“Cried my way all the way through the midterms and swore to never take anything philosophy-related again.”

“That’s good. I should do that,” he slurred his words and before long, all you heard were his soft snores. 

Jihoon liked to think he wasn’t particularly clingy. He didn’t need constant assurance from his friends that he was still loved and wanted – he knew they liked and wanted him around. He knew that you liked and wanted him around.

But when your near-hourly updates about the randomest things you had seen and done were replaced by radio silence, Jihoon grew more and more anxious. Though he knew it was silly to think so, he couldn’t help but worry he had annoyed you into leaving him.

Throughout the day, he kept glancing at his phone. Even just a single message – heck, even an emoji – would make his day infinitely better. When he wasn’t staring at his phone, begging for any notification with your name on it, he was looking at the people around him in the hopes of seeing your familiar face among them.

The day went by without as much as a sign from you.

He felt silly. He felt dumb. He felt like he was going to cry very real tears if you didn’t respond to his text before midnight. 

He let out a loud sigh of relief when your nickname finally popped up on his screen. The tears gathered in his eyes dissipated slowly as he shakily unlocked the phone and tapped on your newest message.

[darling ♡: oh my god. i’m sorry for not answergi !! so sorry!!!]

Jihoon blinked away the remnants of his anxious tears and smiled at the sight of your words. You hadn’t left him just yet. He still had a girlfriend who cared for him.

[it’s okay. did something happen?]

[darling ♡: yeah hahah funny story actually…]

[darling ♡: i think i caught something and i’ve been trying to sleep it off haha]

And just like that, his anxiety was back. Jihoon straightened in his seat, one hand still typing while the other blindly searched for his jacket. 

[youre sick?,??m???]

[darling ♡: a little bit…]

[i’m coming over-]

Before you could send a message of protest, he shrugged his jacket on and headed out the door. Even though he realistically knew that he wouldn’t be much help and would just end up sick himself, he couldn’t just let you suffer all alone.

As he practically galloped down the stairs from his 3rd floor dorm, he texted the group chat for help and assurance.

[L.SM.: she’s sick?! make her dinner! what’s her favourite soup??]

Jihoon paused mid-step. What was your favourite soup?

He arrived at your apartment just ten minutes later, a bag in hand. You greeted him at the door, bags under your eyes, skin dull and lips dry. Jihoon couldn’t help but pout at the sight. 

“What happened to you?” he asked, reaching up to brush his thumb across the cracked skin of your lips. “Have you been drinking water at all?”

“The fridge is too far from the bed,” you told him with a defeated sigh before practically melting into his embrace. “I told you not to come.”

He scoffed out a laugh and began rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. “Well, I’m here anyway. And I’m making you food. How does tomato soup sound?”

“Like you don’t know how to make chicken soup,” you answered with a suspicious squint of your eyes. 

He laughed at that, ears turning red at the way you had caught onto his scheme. “Alright, I think you should go back to resting.”

“You should go to sleep too,” you argued. “It’s past midnight already and you have classes tomorrow.”

“I can skip a day.” He said it with such ease and carelessness that you couldn’t help but wonder who this man was because your boyfriend hadn’t skipped any classes in the entire time you had been together. 

Still, you were too tired to care. Soup sounded better than sleeping on an empty stomach for another 12 hours. 

“Can I at least help you cook?” you practically begged, hanging onto his arm as he began preparing in the kitchen. 

A little taken aback by your affection, he laughed nervously. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I think I’m starting to feel better actually,” you half-joked, watching with starry eyes as he expertly washed and then chopped the tomatoes. “Seeing you has recharged me with energy.”

“Yeah?” He hummed in thought before offering you a mischievous smile. “Then do you have enough energy to go and rest a little?”

Your face dropped. “Why can’t you just accept my love?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re feverish and standing up for long won’t do you any good, darling,” he whispered before pressing a swift kiss to your cheek and returning to his task. “So, go rest on the sofa. I can go get your laptop so you can watch something, if you want.”

“But what if I want to cuddle?”

“Cuddle a pillow.”

“You’re cruel.”

He rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics. Clearly the fever was affecting you worse than he had feared. “When I literally ran across the district to come here and make you soup at midnight?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Fine, you can stay,” he paused and gave a warning glare, even if it looked far less threatening with the smile playing on his lips, “for now.”

You let out a soft cheer and cuddled back into his side, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he made you soup. You marvelled at the graceful movements of his hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of his friends he had made food for. For now you were just glad to be one of them.

“I hope I recover fast,” you whispered. “Or maybe I should just stay sick forever.”

“Why?”

“I have a stupid presentation next week. I haven’t even started reading to prepare for it.” You buried your face into the fabric of his hoodie. He took a moment to press his cheek against your head in an act of assurance. You sighed and mumbled a final, “Stupid finals.”

He laughed at that. “I’ll get you some medicine tomorrow so you can recover fast.”

With a groan, you straightened up a little again to side-eye him. “Can’t you just leave me here to suffer? Or help me fake my death? What kind of a boyfriend are you?”

“The kind that wants his girlfriend to be healthy for our end-of-the-semester date night,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

His confidence really made you wonder if you had forgotten about this clearly existing tradition between the two of you. But no, you were pretty sure he had just made this up. Or perhaps you were too loopy from paracetamol to remember. 

Either way, you let yourself get carried away into a fantasy of sharing a date night with only your boyfriend and no university stress. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

The end of the semester came faster than Jihoon or any of his friends would have liked. It snuck up on them between the despair and sleepless nights of the exam session. And he could not have been happier about it.

Once he had submitted the final essay of the semester – the very last graded project he’d have to submit before a well-deserved break –, he slammed his laptop shut and looked at you, still hunched over your laptop on the bed, re-reading the last paragraphs of your own essay.

“Hold on,” you told him upon feeling his eyes on yourself, “I’m almost done.”

“No rush,” he replied with a sweet smile before letting out a soft giggle of relief and falling back onto your mattress, his arms spread out as if to soak in the freedom.

As if the sight of your boyfriend basking in the glow of no more exams had motivated you to finish sooner than you planned, you hurriedly rushed to upload your final assignment. A green check mark appeared on the screen to indicate that you could finally join your boyfriend. 

With a loud cheer, you closed your own laptop and crawled over to where your boyfriend was lying. Immediately you burrowed into his side and sighed happily. “This semester sucked.”

“You can say that again,” he agreed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders like he had done so many times before. “But at least it’s over now.”

You hated to be the wet blanket but… “Unless one of us fails.”

He groaned and used the same arm to roll you away from him. “I hate you. Go away.”

You laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in distaste as if he had swallowed bitter medicine. “I’m just saying. We’re not safe yet.”

“We’re safe enough,” he declared and waved your negative thoughts away. “God, I hate you, now you’re making me anxious.”

“You don’t actually hate me,” you sang and rolled back over to him, settling right on top of him, your nose against his own. “In fact, you like me.”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasped and sat up, resting your hand on his chest as you leaned upright to glared at him. “Unfortunately?!”

He laughed at your theatrics, giggling with his whole body, shaking so hard in the process that you lost your balance and fell back right on top of him. His arm came to rest around your shoulders again. Once he was out of giggles, he continued smiling and caressed your cheek. “You’re so freaking cute. It’s unfair.”

“Take back that ‘unfortunately’ and I might get even cuter,” you told him, a suspicious glare set on him. 

His smile never faded as he leaned up just a little, resting his entire body weight on one arm just to press his lips to yours. “I take the word back.”

“Good,” you decided and joined in his laughter before kissing him again, “because I kind of love you, actually.”

He froze. His eyes widened just a fraction, his lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise.

He stayed like that for long enough to make you worry you had made your move too fast. He liked to take it slow – you knew that. He had been taking it slow all this time. And now you’ve confessed and he probably thought you were ridiculous and dumb and–

“Darling…” His lips curled into a smile, his eyes turning into joyful crescents, and then he leaned in again. 

His hands came to rest on your cheeks, squishing them just a little as he pulled you to his lips. He kissed you again and again and again. 

He kissed you until you were dumb. He didn’t stop kissing you until you were sure you couldn’t form a single word that wasn’t his name. 

Then, eventually, with both of your lips swollen and eyes dazed, he leaned back and nuzzled his nose against your own. “I love you so, darling, I really do.”

It took you a moment to understand what he was saying. He had kissed you so dumb that you could’ve sworn he was speaking in another language. But finally, your brain caught up with the situation and a smile appeared on your face, bright and proud and full of adoration for your boyfriend. 

“You should kiss me like that more often,” you told him, teasing, trying to see what he’d do. 

He replied with a playful roll of his eyes and another kiss, a single one but much longer than the last twenty. 

“I love you,” you whispered again against his lips.

His smile only seemed to brighten even more at that. “I love you too.”

But as he was about to go in for another kiss, a loud vibration sounded from somewhere in the sheets. The two of you glanced around as the vibrations continued, breaking you from the romantic daze.

“Is someone calling you?” he wondered. 

“My phone’s been on silent since the dawn of time, babe,” you told him easily and helped him look for his phone. “It must be yours.”

Just when you said those words, the vibrations abruptly stopped. And then another vibration came, short and gentle this time. 

You found his phone under the pillows, Soonyoung’s contact name appearing alongside the missed call symbol and a minimised text message on the screen.

“It’s your tiger friend,” you told Jihoon and turned to hand the phone to him when the phone vibrated again with a new message coming in. 

It wasn’t your fault that the whole screen flashed to life with the message – what were you supposed to do? Not read it? 

[K.SY.: oh, nonie said u’re with y/n?]

And then another message arrived before he could take the phone from your hands. 

[K.SY.: have u told her u love her yet ??!?!!]

[K.SY.: the chat is rootin for u!!!! u’ve been good at following our advice this far. u’ve got this!!]

A mischievous smile appeared on your face as you read the message. Jihoon didn’t realise what made you react this way until he took his phone and read the message minimised on his lockscreen. He groaned as the realisation hit.

“Don’t start–”

“You told your friends that you loved me,” you beat him to it, reaching over to squish his cheeks and kiss his nose. “And you asked them for advice? You’re so goddamn cute.”

His ears got progressively more red with every word. He quickly swiped the messages off his screen and threw his phone as far away as he could without potentially breaking it. “It wasn’t like that–”

“I’m just teasing, baby,” you laughed and pulled him into a comforting hug. Poor man was mortified. “I do have to ask though: what kind of advice did you get from them?”

“Well,” he hesitated as you looked at him expectantly, “I wanted to be a good boyfriend, so… I asked them how to be a better boyfriend…”

You pressed your lips to his. “You’re a good boyfriend, Jihoon, I promise. You’re the best, actually.” 

“I had to ask my friends for help just to get the courage to initiate a kiss,” he confessed, squeezing his eyes shut as the urge to cringe and hide away under the bed overcame him. “I’m a mediocre boyfriend, at most.”

“I strongly disagree,” you told him and pulled him in for another kiss, “but we’ll work on your confidence, my love.”

♡ THE END! ♡

[shirotaangel]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ Babies

- KOZUME KENMA × READER

- SYNOPSIS: you just want to have your Kozume's babies but you're too fucked up.

tw : attempted murder (?), sexual tension, mentions of sex, angry sex at the bottom.

╰┈➤ YOU WERE WITH HIM in the empty classroom when you thought of the question. The rest of your class went down to the canteen but Kenma insisted on the both of you staying here, mumbling something along the lines of people become savages at lunchtime in the canteen.

He said you wouldn't like the lunch being served today.

"And that is-?" You smiled, raising your fine brow.

"You don't like anything," he leaned backward by the elbows in the window, sunlight striping his forehead, "Don't matter what the canteens are selling."

You were writing on the blackboards, scribbles both of your names and faces of cartoons. You drew a pink cat since there's no red chalk. Kuroo would normally be here, slacking off, but midterms got him by the leash.

Now it's you and Kenma.

And your great question.

"Kozume," you turned to him. His body was halfway through the window, balancing, closing his eyes. His bleached hair fell behind, shifting in the light breeze.

Summer looked pretty on him, you thought.

He asked, "what."

You thought about it at first, if you should ask him since it's not really what he would hear from you everyday, or generally from someone with a decent mind. But you're curious of his answer.

"Would you fuck me, Kozume?" She asked, almost bored, "get me pregnant."

His head lolled to your side of the classroom, his slanted eyes opened, "what kind of question is that?"

"Nothing much," you shrugged, "would you?"

"Huh," he says, unbothered, proceeding to think. He never answers a question of yours without giving it good pondering, "do I fuck you just to get you pregnant?"

"Yes . . . Just for that sole benefit," you inspected your acrylic nails, "squirting inside to get the baby in me. What do you think?"

He frowned a bit, his head lowering down the window, "if you'd ask for it, then sure."

You were surprised. Hardly anything surprised you nowadays, especially if it's Kenma. Actually it's him who hated the surprises - saying he didn't like the way it it made him contemplate.

You remember arguing that some questions didn't need to be deep. He answered that you were a trickster - and he needed to dissect everything that comes from you to the very bone of it.

"You would?" she says, turning back to the board. You picked the blue chalk, starting to draw small penguins, whales, dolphins, "even now?"

He doesn't budge from his careless position, "if you ask."

"Let's say we did," you wondered, squinting as you added some scales to a chubby fish, "right here, right now. You fucked me hard. You cummed."

"Go on," he muttered, barely there.

"Suddenly, I'm carrying your baby, a boy maybe," you trailed off, thinking pink waves would look pretty, so you took the pink chalk and drew, "what do you think he'll look like?"

"You decide," he said, glancing at you momentarily, the blowing curtains brushing his shoulders softly, "you already know what I'll say."

"You'd have our baby boy look like Baldur, or maybe even Sean Bean," you turned to him, glaring a bit, "You're a horrible father."

"Why, I thought you'd want it to look like Sean," a small, amused grin tilts his thin lips, "we can cast him in some new medieval franchise somewhere in the future."

"I don't like those films," you sighed, disturbed, "I already rejected HBO - I didn't want to play Sansa."

He hummed.

You paused, imagining your baby boy, your little prince with Kenma. You're the more beautiful one between you two, but you'd actually like the kid to have his father's face - golden eyes, sharp features. You want all that is Kenma in your boy. You'd love him more than anything in the world.

"He can have your face," you put the chalk down, padding slowly towards Kenma. He's your best friend, your quiet baby boy. You stood between his legs, leaning down the window until your chests were pressed together, "our precious baby."

The third year classroom was in the third floor, reaching the top branches of the tallest tree on campus. Leaves were nearby so you plucked a few, tucking them in Kenma's blazer pockets.

"Why not yours?" he raised his head slightly, but not much, just to look at you face, brushing his finger on your jaw.

"Because I want our baby boy to look like you," you rubbed the tip of her nose lightly against his, smiling, "is that too much to ask?"

A small chuckle rumbled from his throat, his brows raised, "poor kid."

"What do you mean?" You asked softly, lacing your fingers through his and placing a small, quick kiss on his lips, "that's why I wanted you to make me pregnant, no one else."

"Yeah?" He slung an arm over his forehead.

The sky was a sweet blue above you, with barely any clouds. A little bird flew past, darting into the branches and leaves near.

"I want you to be mine forever," you breathed.

You two dangled a part of yourselves across the window, between what you could compare to life and death.

You could rise and nudge him back to the classroom, or in a little tilt you could send you both to Hell.

We deserve it so damn bad, you thought, playing with a stray streak of his hair.

"I want him to be fat, chubby, small, has your eyes," you took the hand of his you held, kissing those tan knuckles tenderly, "I want you to fuck me, Kenma, give me your babies."

He chuckled, his brows creasing together, "pump you full with my kids, huh?"

You laughed, kissing his lips once more. A small, precious kiss, "My Kozume."

He sighed, amused, "you'll be the death of me."

"And you're the death of me," you whispered, twirling of strand of his hair. It's almost dried from the bleach down deep to his roots.

You pressed yourself further against his chest, getting heavier and heavier, slowly tilting you two lower . . . lower.

Kenma grimaced, sternly saying your name. You don't listen.

"What the fuck are you doing," Kenma's narrow eyes were wide, breathless. He gripped your arm, pushing you back. He kept saying your name, each one more agitated than the last.

You kept silent.

You and him were slipping over the window sill - you deepened your body on his when you pressed your mouth on his jaw, pressuring his head downwards and downwards.

Kenma tried to grab on the rails but, he gasped against your lips when you threatened to push yourself lower down -

You curled your arms around his neck, abruptly pulled him back into the classroom. You landed on your back, Kenma on top.

Breathless as he is, Kenma pulled his head from you, his eyes wild. You knew he was cursing you, wanted to kill you in the most brutal ways. Maybe like stoning you to death naked in the middle of Shibuya. You'd like that death.

He did something much worse though. He gripped your wrists and fucked you. He fucked you hard, fucked you well.

The grudge in that? He didn't give you babies.

copyright belongs to @shirotaangel

[blueberrymocha]

hiii!! Do you mind writing about the main 4 surprising reader on their bday?

main 4 surprising you on your birthday

gon

gon’s wasn’t very great at hiding things, so you knew he had something planned for your special day. his enthusiasm that morning only assured you more. he’d had a party horn in one hand and breakfast (which was a birthday cake) in the other.

“happy birthday y/n!” gon exclaimed, nearly dropping it. he decided to bake the cake himself, as a thoughtful gesture. unfortunately, the first few times it burned or he forgot to add an ingredient, but eventually the cake was perfected

the two of you opted to spend time out in the sun. you adventured through the forest, went for a swim along the coast, and eventually grabbed dinner at a local restaurant.

“put this on, ‘kay?” he instructed, handing you a blindfold and taking you by the hand. your suspense built as he guided you into a part of town you were sure you hadn’t been to before. fifteen minutes of walking later, you arrived at the mysterious location. feeling yourself get onto something before it started moving up, you all but screamed.

suddenly your blindfold was removed, and you heard a loud “surprise!”

glancing around, you realized you were on a hot air balloon. turning to gon, you hugged him and muttered a quick thank you before moving to the ledge and gazing out at the sky. the view was breathtaking, and soon you found yourself pointing out every little thing to the boy next to you.

“ooh do you see the little dipper? there’s an owl!” you paused to look out a different side before continuing, “doesn’t whale island look so small from up here?”

he hummed in agreement, even though the whole time he could only stare at you.

killua

when you woke up to an empty bed, you knew something was off. seeing as it was your birthday, you figured he might’ve had something planned, but before you could figure anything out, a knock came to your door. in front of you stood alluka, holding a gift with a bright smile on her face. and when she asked to spend the day with you, no just wasn’t an option.

after a few hours, your curiosity had grown too much, “say alluka, where’s your brother at anyway?” you asked her causally.

“hm, i’m not sure… why don’t we head back to the house? he might’ve gone back!” she suggested, and you decided she was right. upon walking in, you noted how dark it was.

“hey, didn’t we leave the string li—“

there was a popping sound as you watched the lights come on.

“everyone run right now!”

you immediately turned and started for the door, but in the absence of any other footsteps, you stopped. whipping back, you saw all your friends, until your gaze stopped on killua.

“hold up, what’s going on?” you asked blankly.

taking the time to look around the room, you saw birthday banners, balloons, presents, and a cake on the table… at your revelation, killua burst out laughing.

“killua, that’s not what we rehearsed!” you heard gon complain. seeing the mischievous look on his face though, you knew something like this should’ve been expected.

“hah, happy birthday,” he said, recovering from laughing, then adding “but want some cake?”

“i swear, if you shove my face into it, you’re gonna be sleeping outside tonight.” he rolled his eyes as everyone made it to the kitchen. as annoying as his jokes were, you couldn’t have asked for a better day.

kurapika

you wished kurapika could be with you today, but naturally he was off doing something. it wasn’t uncommon for you to be left in the dark about his whereabouts, but you thought he could’ve at least left a text or something.

regardless, sulking around at home on your birthday was out of the question. deciding to get a coffee, you grabbed your keys and walked up to the door.

in that moment, you watched the handle twist before it made a clicking noise. freezing where you stood, the blonde walked into your apartment holding a box in one hand.

as you ran to embrace him, he instantly wrapped his free arm around you. “you made it!” drawing away just enough to not damage his ears with your yelling.

he replied with a chuckle and paused before saying, “i didn’t know your expectations were so low, you thought i’d miss today”

you huffed, “if you haven’t noticed, it’s almost 5 o’ clock in the evening. of course i didn’t expect you to come.”

giving you a quick sorry, he continued to the dining table, setting the box down. grabbing a lighter from his pocket, he lit each candle before looking back at you. but you just stared at the cake. it was the nicest dessert you’d seen in your entire life, fit more for a wedding than your party for two.

“you know you’re meant to blow them out, right?” he joked.

“kurapika, thank you.” you spoke. there was no better gift than getting to see this side of him. the playful and loving part of him he let no one else see. no one except you.

leorio

it was morning and your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. as you got to the kitchen, you spot a note next to some pancakes

“mornin’ y/n! get dressed and head down to the park? see you soon.”

and you couldn’t hide the grin forming on your face. once you finished eating, you went back to your bedroom to find something to wear.

‘he never specified what the dress code was… guess i can’t go wrong with casual’

walking into the park, you soon found the ravenette sitting on a blanket peering inside a woven basket.

“babe! i’m here,” you announced, earning a yelp from the old looking man. his surprised face quickly morphed into glee as he shouted,

“happy birthday!”

you sat down and began to look at all the food he’d prepared. you remembered how much you loved the dinner rolls he made last thanksgiving, they were here. the tomato soup he fed you when you got sick? here. thinking of all the wonderful memories you’d made with him, you couldn’t help but smile.

“leorio… i’m so thankful to have you,” you said, reaching for his hand. his face flushed red as he seemingly searched the park for any sort of reply. when nothing came to him, he grabbed your hand back.

“let’s cut all the sappy stuff and get to the eating, alright?” he eventually stated after a long silence. smiling once more, you nodded and grabbed a plate.

[helenofsparta2]

Headcannon: Percy is immensely popular among nature spirits and "minor" gods

Oceanids & Nereids

It starts small.

The Nereids and Oceanids are naturally curious about him when they find out about his existence, that’s already canon:

She (a nereid) nodded. “It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest.”

Suddenly, I remembered faces in the waves of Montauk Beach when I was a little boy, reflections of smiling women. (The Lightning Thief, chapter 17)

Later, at the latest by the time Titan’s curse happens, nereids and oceanids see him save ocean creatures from fishing gear, or whales stranded on beaches, or him helping mermaids with hanging nails. (Titan’s curse, chapter 7)  We see him be considerate and respectful to nereids through his interaction in the fourth book at the ranch.

She looked like she was ready for a fight. Her fists were balled, but I thought I heard a little quaver in her voice. Suddenly, I realized that, despite her angry attitude, she was afraid of me. She probably thought I was going to fight her for control of the river , and she was worried, she would lose.

The thought made me sad. I felt like a bully, a son of Poseidon throwing his weight around.

I sat down on a tree stump. “Okay, you win.”

The naiad looked surprised. (The Battle of the Labyrinth, chapter 9)

It’s pretty good established in the books, that smaller gods and spirits don’t get treated with respect most of the time, especially not from heroes of old like Herakles and the Olympian gods. The reaction of the naiad adds to this sentiment, so we can pretty easily conclude that the way Percy treats them, is relatively rare.

In-between the books, Rick often sprinkles in some interactions between Percy and naiads, which further underlines their positive opinion of him:

I looked over the edge of the boat and found a couple of naiads staring at me. They looked like regular teenage girls, the kind you’d see in any mall, except for the fact that they were underwater.

Hey, I said. They made a bubbling sound that may have been giggling. I wasn’t sure. I had a hard time understanding naiads.

We’re heading upstream, I told them. Do you think you could-

Before I could even finish, the naiads each chose a canoe and began pushing us up the river. (Titan’s curse, Chapter 14)

Satyrs & Dryads:

The satyrs know that he, Clarisse, Annabeth, Tyson and Grover were the ones, who returned the golden fleece to camp half-blood and so, have stopped satyrs from getting killed by Polyphemus. During the battle of the labyrinth, Percy is the one who extinguished the fire and stopped the trees and dryads from getting burnt to death. Not to mention that he is best friends with the guy, who discovered Pan and has the title of Lord of the Wild.

“Minor” Gods:

The non-Olympian gods, like Hecate, Nemesis, Eros, Hebe and Morpheus were probably curious about him, even wary, but nothing more at first, until Percy managed to stop the civil war between Zeus and Poseidon at the age of twelve.  

We know that canonically, this already earned him the respect of many different beings:

As I walked back through the city of the gods, conversations stopped. The muses paused their concert. People, and satyrs and naiads all turned towards me, their faces filled with respect and gratitude, and as I passed, they knelt, as if I were some kind of hero.” (The Lightning Thief, chapter 21)

By the time the war with Kronos further escalates and they join his side, this obviously changes again. From this moment on, Percy is their enemy, and probably nothing more for most of them.

But then, they lose, and probably expect the worst of consequences.

Gods who have crossed Zeus have suffered severe punishments before. Prometheus was bound to a rock, with an eagle eating his liver every day because he stole fire from the gods, gifted it to humanity and tricked Zeus, the titans were banished to Tartarus after the Titanomachy. After some of the gods rebelled and tried to overthrow Zeus, Hera got hung in the sky with golden chains, where she cried out all night in pain, while Apollo and Poseidon were forced to work as labourers for King Laomedon of Troy.

They probably expected to get thrown into Tartarus with the rest of the Titans, get stripped of their immortality, or worse. Instead, however, their children finally receive cabins at camp half-blood and they themselves receive full amnesty.

All because Percy Jackson, this 16-year-old teenager, decides to change the entire thousand year old status quo on Olympus.  

He could have wished for anything after their victory over Kronos and the titan army. The choice was not between the oath he made the gods swear and him becoming a god. He could have wished to be left alone, or to never have to do a quest again, or live a happy, and peaceful life away from the pain and wars until the end of his days, or literally anything else, but he didn’t. He made the active choice to make Olympus fairer, and to create equality among the demigods, without even thinking about it for too long.

No one can convince me that this, and his already mentioned other actions, didn’t earn him the respect of huge parts of the mythological world.

Not even Rick himself (no matter how much he may try in his new books)

[leaderpinhead]

Gidel - Lucky Ear Rubs

Prompt: Carnival I've done really well in the past year avoiding any big spoilers for the Playful Land event until it released in English, so I'm completely ignoring everything that may happen post Part 1 of the story. But I also acknowledge I prefer the names on the JPN server, so I'm sticking to Gidel and Fellow Honest for now. :P

Girls were easy targets. At least that’s what Gidel tried to tell himself when he found the girl and her direbeast playing the carnival games. Gidel smirked. While Fellow was handling the older Night Raven College students, Gidel thought he’d handle the easier guests. 

Gidel silently slid up to Yuu’s side. She didn’t look at him, concentrating on the target she soaked with a water shooter. The small whale connected to the target slowly raced across the booth, falling behind the other whales played by “invisible” competitors. Grim cheered her on, hopping across the counter and shouting above the carnival music. The game ended with a loud buzz before her whale reached the finish line. 

“Poor luck,” the marionette manning the booth hollowly lamented. Its stiff limbs woodenly swung a small stuffed fox towards Yuu. “Here’s your consolation prize.” 

Grim growled and snatched the stuffed fox from the marionette's hand. He threw it into the growing pile at his feet. “This game is rigged! How are you supposed to win the big prizes against players that don’t exist?” 

Yuu’s eyes narrowed at the large stuffed animals sitting on a high shelf at the back of the booth. She pointed at the large whale taking up most of the shelf. “You’re mine, Whalebert.” 

Gidel inched closer. He eyed Yuu’s pockets in search of something valuable. The magic of Playful Land may have changed their clothes, but that didn’t mean any of their belongings had vanished. 

“Do it again!” Grim demanded. He jumped on the counter and kicked the water shooter. “If you don’t get it this time, I’ll—Myah! Where did you come from?” 

Gidel smiled when Grim finally saw him. He nearly fell backwards off the counter in his surprise but was saved by Yuu. Gidel hoisted his hammer higher on his shoulder and smiled at Yuu. 

“Hi there,” Yuu greeted. She dropped Grim onto the ground where he huffed. “You’re just in time. Give me the sacred lucky ear rubs.” 

Before Gidel had a chance to be confused, Yuu gently grabbed his ears. Gidel stiffened, his heart thundering in his chest. Looking as earnest as Fellow performing a high-stakes scam, Yuu gently rubbed his ears. The repetitive motion slowly eased the shot of anxiety he felt. His eyes involuntarily closed. 

“Stop harassing every beastfolk with animal ears and win me that whale!” 

Gidel tensed when he realized he leaned his entire weight against Yuu. He jerked back and gripped his hammer like he was prepared to clobber her. She didn’t seem to notice his attack stance and instead turned to grab the handles of the water shooter. 

A bell dinged to signal the start of the game, and Yuu’s whale bobbed along the track after the other whales. Gidel lowered his hammer and watched her whale take the lead. It traded places with another whale for the first half of the track before it pulled ahead and stayed there until it reached the other side of the track. Upbeat carnival music blasted from the booth, and the marionette performed a little dance to announce the winner. 

Grim cheered and jumped onto the counter again to accept the large whale. Gidel knew the game was rigged—the booths in the park ensorcelled to let real players win after a few losses—but he couldn’t help smiling when Yuu turned back to him. He stiffened when she suddenly grabbed him in a hug. “The lucky ear rubs strike again!” 

“Stop harassing the kid!” 

“You’re just upset because your ears have lost all their luck.” 

Grim harrumphed and marched over to the next game booth, holding the whale high above his head. Yuu released Gidel from the hug and leaned down to grab the other toys they had won. For a moment, Gidel had the oddest yearning to lean back into the girl. He didn’t realize he was leaning closer until she looked back up at him, and their noses bonked together. Gidel ducked back and covered his nose. 

Instead of showing any anger, Yuu laughed. “Did you want to help? That’s sweet! Way sweeter than Grim.” 

“Less talking, more winning,” Grim shouted from the next booth. 

Yuu hummed and gathered the remaining toys in her arms. She dumped them on the counter of the water shooting game and moved as if to join Grim. Gidel grabbed the back of her vest and pointed at the toys. She shook her head. “We just wanted Whalebert. Those can go to any of the other visitors in the park. Or you can have one!” 

Gidel stood in frozen shock as Yuu abandoned her winnings to join Grim. He looked back and forth between the pair and the pile of toys. The marionette behind the counter woodenly invited him to play. 

Gidel slowly shuffled over to stand at Yuu’s side opposite of Grim. She smiled at him and pointed at the large donkey hanging above a pyramid of glass milk bottles. “We’ve decided Whalebert needs a friend.” 

“I said we should name it Sir Ass-ington, but Yuu says we can’t!” 

“I’m sure Ace would get a kick out of that, but Trey’s here too, so we have to keep things classy.” 

Gidel glanced between the two as they laughed and began throwing baseballs at the pyramid. He sidled closer to Yuu until their elbows brushed together. Without even looking at him, Yuu used her free hand to pet his ears. He leaned more heavily into her petting and silently cheered with them when they finally won the donkey after their fifth game. 

By the time Fellow came looking for him, Gidel had completely forgotten his original plan and was instead carrying Whalebert under one arm and Sir Donkeyton under the other while totally not taking advantage of their losses to get more “sacred lucky ear rubs.” 

[sepulchralsmile]

while the others talk, we were listening to lovers rock

or: Steve and Billy listen to records in Steve's room.

Billy doesn’t really know how he got here.

Well, objectively he knows. Steve Harrington’s abysmal English grade is the starting point. Cornered after school by Ms. Hofeditz and a reluctant Harrington trailing close behind with a sour look on his face. 

He almost didn’t believe it when she asked, and was fully expecting Harrington to protest, maybe put up some sort of a fight. Instead, he was struck dumb when Harrington just stayed silent, watching him from behind Hofeditz’s back with a kind of desperation in his eyes Billy had never seen on him before. So he said yes; if anything, it was to get that pathetic look off Harrington’s pretty face.

If he was willing to get over it, Billy would too; even if he did still think it was weird Harrington was in a shack in the middle of the woods with a bunch of middle schoolers.

From there they’ve slowly progressed past tension-filled tutoring sessions to less tense cigarette breaks. Those somehow evolved into late car rides to the quarry, a six pack shared between them. And now… they’re here. At Steve Harrington’s house. In Steve Harrington’s bedroom. Listening to records.

He couldn't even tell you what record it was, honestly; it could be an hour of white noise and whale noises and he wouldn’t even care. Because the line of Steve’s thigh is pressed against his own, warm and solid.

The idea had been Steve’s, weirdly enough. Like he waited until Billy was completely blitzed and greened out before making his move, shaking Billy’s shoulder until he rolled his head on his neck to look over, eyes squinty  and red from the smoke.

“You want to… listen to music?” He’d repeated back dumbly, staring at Steve and blinking like he was suddenly gonna disappear.

“Yeah,” Steve’d responded patiently, his own eyes staring back unblinking.

“So… should I go?” He asked then, caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. He didn’t wanna go, far from it actually, but the pointed way Steve said I wanna listen to music had him thinking it was maybe his time to go.

Steve had rolled his eyes, said an exasperated oh my god, and clasped a hand around Billy’s wrist like he was keeping him planted there, and Billy was thankful for the way they both ignored the way he jolted at the touch.

When Steve tugged him up the stairs, still clutching his wrist, he thought he’d finally lost it. And he was pretty ready to embrace the sweet clutch of insanity. 

But now he could see that this was the true test of his mental capacity: sitting side by side with Steve Harrington on his plush, king bed while music plays on in the background.

They left the joint downstairs, although Billy would kill to have something to do with his hands right now. Or just something to do in general, so he wouldn’t look so out of sorts. As it is, his hands are sitting loose in his lap, sweaty and clammy. A couple fingers keep twitching restlessly, and he tries not to stare at them too hard as he feels Steve shift next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Whaddya think?” Steve breathes near his ear, close enough that he can smell the Schlitz from earlier. His heart feels like it’s gonna beat out of his chest. “D’you like it?”

Billy strains to hear, tries to listen past the roar of blood in his ears. It’s something with a deep guitar, offbeat bass, kind of funky. Not really his thing, by the sounds of it. But listening to it in Steve’s room, just separated by a hair’s breadth— well, he could get into it.

“It’s good,” he says, internally cringing as his voice cracks. He’s trying to keep a cool head, but it’s difficult when his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and his cheeks feel too hot. The click in his throat from a dry swallow seems to echo in the room.

Steve gives him a slanted smile, like he knows Billy’s full of shit and can see right through him. The worst thing is, Billy’s being so obvious he probably can. But his eyes are warm when he tracks them down Billy’s face. “Cool. I’m glad you like it.”

Billy feels the absurd urge to cover his face, even though that would be fucking weird, and Steve would probably laugh at him. He’s never felt this unmoored, this out of sorts— but then again, he’s never gotten this close to someone he’s actually liked like this before. Not the overbearing girls from school or the moms who stare too long in the grocery store; someone he’s actually interested in.

And embarrassingly, it’s like Steve knows this, because he just keeps giving this easy smile. Eyes crinkling a little at the corners. Scoots impossibly closer. Billy resists the urge to fidget. Why’s he so goddamn close? He doesn’t even wanna know what he looks like right now; how obvious he’s being.

But Harrington apparently doesn’t notice that, because as the seconds pass he just wiggles closer and closer until they’re pressed all along their sides. Until it’s the only thing he’s aware of; how firm and unyielding Steve is next to him. Unmistakable that he’s there, taking up space. There’s no way he doesn’t know that he’s practically snug against Billy. Right?

Billy keeps his eyes forward, staring ahead at the record player across the room like it’s gonna coach him on how to get out of here without the world’s most obvious boner. Get ahold of yourself, you freak, is the running though in his head, screaming from the deep recesses of his brain, act fucking normal.

“You’re so tense,” Steve breathes again, even closer and warm in his ear. Billy can’t help but shiver. “Oh, are you cold? Here,” and then he winds an arm around Billy, wrapping around the other side to rub his forearm up and down.

Uh.

He’s going crazy, right? Because no fucking way Steve Harrington is doing this. Putting moves on him. 

Because that’s exactly how this feels; he’s pretty sure if they were in a movie theater right now Steve would have his arm around his shoulders, staring ahead like Billy’s brain isn’t melting between his ears. He’s not even getting warmer, or more relaxed, just holding himself stock still as Steve thumbs through the hairs on his arm. Billy shivers again.

There’s a part of him that knows he can’t just sit like this, jaw clamped shut and eye trained forward. So, like a dumbass, he just clears his throat and says, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Steve replies, like it’s just that easy. As simple as warming up a buddy who’s cold, that’s all. He’s probably reading too much into this. He’s definitely reading too much into this. Straight guys probably sit this close all the time and don’t spontaneously combust on the spot. All he’s gotta do is take a deep breath and—

“I never knew your hair was this curly, at the root,” Steve tugs on a lock of hair above his ear before tucking it away, smoothing down the curl closest. “It’s really cute.”

His throat goes dry. What. The fuck.

“Thanks,” he says again, more of a croak this time, like a total dipshit. Has to take in a deep breath and does the thing he’s been afraid to do this whole time: meet Steve’s eyes.

He searches them desperately, not really sure what he’s looking for. Rejection, maybe. Or disgust. Something he knows and recognizes and understands. There’s a flutter in his chest that feels a lot like hope and longing and maybe? that feels too dangerous to encourage.

What he gets is a pair of warm brown eyes, sparkling from the light of the lamp on the nightstand. They’re bright. Open. Nothing like he’s expected. Steve Harrington is sitting next to him, with an arm almost wrapped across his chest. And Steve is looking at him like… like everything out of a cheesy romance movie, all the way down to the way he’s nervously staring at Billy’s lips.

And— okay. He’s definitely not imagining it. There’s no way even his mind could come up with the sight of Steve’s eyes, flicking down and up and down and up in a tantalizing trance.

Steve shifts next to him. Billy holds his breath.

“Hey,” Steve begins, tentative, voice still hushed, “I’m not— I’m not reading this wrong, right?”

Billy’s mouth is so dry. He swallows with another loud click and stays exactly where he is. Afraid that if he moves even an inch, everything will snap back to normal. 

He’s desperate to hold onto this moment. To stay suspended in time, exactly as they are. But there’s a small part of himself that’s saying it’s not real, it’s a trick, it’s something.

So he doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he shakes his head, and hopes to god that Steve knows what he means. That it’s enough.

It is. Somehow. Steve’s face breaks into a soft grin, smoothing the furrowed line between his brows. He glances down at Billy’s lips one more time— fuck, he feels like he’s gonna die— before they flick back to his eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now, is that okay?”

And god. It is. It really fucking is. His heart actually stops in his chest, but not before he’s able to somehow mumble out an, “Okay.”

He sounds like an idiot. He’s acting like one, for sure, with all his blushing and stuttering. Like one of the handfuls of girls who probably lost their virginity in this room, on this bed. But he gets it now. Because having Steve Harrington in front of you, saying he’s about to kiss you— yeah, he gets it now.

Steve waits just one second more— giving Billy an out he hasn’t needed since his first day here— before he closes the gap between them, lips brushing gingerly over Billy’s.

It’s tentative, to start. Instead of going straight for his mouth, Steve kisses both corners of his lips, sending him into a further tizzy that has him sucking in a desperate gasp for air, one that Steve meets with his own open mouth. He keeps it slow, though, gently sucking and licking at Billy’s lips while a hand winds up into his hair, thumb brushing over the curl he’d tucked back earlier. 

Billy practically melts against him, embarrassingly, but Steve takes it in stride, sucking on his lower and then upper lip in a way that has Billy canting forward unconsciously, seeking out more more more. His mouth opens up, finally letting Steve in, and then the hand in his hair tightens a little and before he can stop it, a small noise escapes him. He barely has a second to feel humiliated about it before Steve groans, and then tightens the hand even more, and Billy’s pretty sure he’s going to dissolve right then and there.

They break apart. Maybe it’s been seconds, minutes, hours. Billy can’t tell. because Steve is watching him with wide eyes, and a red mouth, and he’s breathing just as heavily as he is. So this time, he decides to take charge; giddy anticipation making him surge forward for an open-mouthed kiss that Steve immediately reciprocates.

The first kiss was slow. Sweet. A little wary and nervous but excited. The second kiss has him licking deep and covering Steve’s mouth with his own, letting out an actual moan when Steve responds just as fervently; sucking his tongue and panting into his mouth when Billy grips his shirt tight and pulls him closer. The hand not holding his hair scrabbles across his chest before twisting into his shirt, bunching up the material and practically dragging Billy closer.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he goes with the movement— pushing and pushing and meeting Steve until he’s practically bending him back. All while Steve gives it back to him in double, licking deep like he was trying to memorize all the crevices of Billy’s mouth. Nibbling on his lips, sucking kisses that stick on his lips and teeth and have him losing his fucking mind resisting the urge to devour Steve then and there.

Steve gives a tug, another tug, and then the biggest tug when he finally gets Billy over him; laying flat on his back on the bed while Billy covers his chest and practically straddles his hips. His hands move from his hair and shirt straight to his ass, and the firm squeeze has Billy making a high noise in his throat he’s pretty sure he’s never heard before.

They break apart again, but only for a second. Only to stare at each other, panting into each other’s mouths, before Steve surges up and sucks his bottom lips into his mouth, swallowing down Billy’s answering groan. 

He rolls his hips down, instinctively, and they both have to break apart again to moan in tandem. After that, Steve’s hands get firmer, tighter, until he’s dragging Billy down and they’re writhing together, their breaths sound loud in the room, along with the rough slide of denim on denim and the clinking of their zippers when they occasionally rub together. It’s fucking intoxicating, and it only makes him feel crazier, licking deep into Steve’s mouth and tightening his hands where they’re clenched on the duvet, digging into the fabric.

Steve murmurs, “Can I?” as he slips one of his hands from the back to the front, palming right over his dick as Billy gasps and breaks the kiss, rasping out a gravelly, “Yes,” that has Steve giving a breathy chuckle before sucking on one of the corners of Billy’s lips again, gently popping the button and pulling the zipper. Billy tilts his head to capture his lips again.

He’s just got his hand in Billy’s boxers when— pop!

They fly apart at the loud sound, Billy’s heart practically stopping in his chest as his mind immediately whirls with all sorts of thoughts of danger until— the telltale sound of the record skipping immediately follows after, along with the rhythmic noise of the needle  going click, click, click…

Billy meets Steve’s eyes, which are just as wide as his. A second passes, and then they’re breaking into hysterical giggles, the sheer relief at not being caught making them both a little punch-drunk.

“Fuckin’ old-ass record,” Steve gripes, but with a smile on his face. His hands are back on the sides of Billy’s hips now, but he’s still gripping him close. “Knew I should’ve dusted it off before I took it out.”

Billy grins back at him. It’s kind of impossible not to, especially when it feels like his heart is about to burst with— everything indescribable. “It’s gonna get ruined if you let it keep skipping.”

“I don’t care,” Steve says immediately, tugging him down for a quick, soft, close-mouthed kiss that has Billy reeling, “only put it on for this, anyway.”

The confession makes Billy’s grin go stupid. His cheeks feel like they're gonna burst with how big he’s smiling. “Oh yeah? Trying to put the moves on me, huh?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “It worked, didn’t it?” and before Billy can respond, he tugs him down to whisper against his mouth, “Don’t flip it over, I don't give a fuck about the music. Just kiss me.”

Billy leans forward, gripping the sheets tight, and this time when he sighs against Steve’s mouth he does it with a soft smile.

~~~

thank you to @thediktatortot for preceding!!

i hope you guys liked this! this was super fun to write, alothough it was so difficult choosing which wip to go with lol. enjoy some soft and sweet harringrove <3 following me will be the lovely @chrisbitchtree !!

happy harringrove relay race :)

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy Part 3 (werewolf!Soap x reader)

Johnny meets his daughter, part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Part 3

Johnny knocked on the door at 8:15, carrying two pounds of bacon and a book about whales.

The bastard. Tom must have told him that whales were Emma’s weakness.

“Hi, Kitty,” Johnny said, smiling. He twitched like he wanted to lean in and kiss your cheek, but managed to restrain himself.

“John,” you said. You were dressed more appropriately this time, a Black Sabbath tee and sweats, your work clothes of pencil skirts, trousers, and wool sweaters currently drying on the laundry lines in the backyard. 

Emma touched the back of your leg, peering out at Johnny with a kind of fascinated dislike. “You’re taller than I thought you were,” she said, her tone disapproving.

You smiled then, suddenly full of warm affection for your daughter. “Let the man come inside, bear, it’s freezing out there.”

Johnny stepped inside your house and something inside of you clenched, forcing yourself to step back and allow Johnny his moment with your daughter.

They looked at each other. Father to daughter, their eyes so alike, their hair the same color, all the missing pieces falling into place.

Johnny crouched, going eye-level with her. “Hi, Emma,” he said, his voice hoarse as he attempted to smile. “My name’s Johnny.” Emma smiled, her first missing tooth winking at him.

You looked away. And so it began.

Within an hour she was perched up in his lap, prattling about whales and her friends from school. “Ms. Thornton said we had to make it out of paper maché and the best whale would win a prize. So Mum stayed up with me all night making the biggest blue whale, with a spout’n tail’n everything.” Johnny was captivated, his eyes brighter than you had ever seen them, his accent tangling his words even thicker than usual. “Aye? Did you win then?”

“Of course, we have ‘im hung up in the living room with little strings, right next to Grandpa Jack’s chair.” It was true. A paper mache blue whale hung from your ceiling in the place of honor, a tiny Christmas hat perched on his head for the upcoming holidays. 

You had to look away from them, focusing on pouring Emma her usual glass of milk and Johnny a coffee. He despised tea.

“Drink,” you said, pushing the glass towards her. “It’s good for your brain.” Emma two-handed it, just like you tell her to. It seemed she was trying to be on her best behavior, the little traitor. “How’d you know it’s good for my brain?” She asked, sniffing Johnny’s coffee as you placed it before him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, trying to meet your eyes but failing when you turned back to their breakfast, a mess of eggs and bacon and raw deer. “I looked it up on the internet, bear. Good fats are good for your brain.” “That’s what she says when she wants me to eat something, Johnny,” Emma said. “That it’s good for my brain. She’s always reading books on what to feed me so I can get taller.”

“I was an itty-bitty sprite when I was your age, lass, I’m sure it’ll kick in with a few more years,” Johnny said, his hand stroking her soft hair as if he couldn’t believe she was real. 

It went on like this until you put food in front of them, taking a seat across from Emma with your coffee and toast. You were never hungry this early, mostly because you were usually handling raw liver or beef tongue at eight in the morning and that sent your appetite right down the drain.

Johnny noticed. “Not even gonna have bacon, kitty?” “She never eats breakfast,” Emma the tattletale said, spooning up a bit of deer. “She doesn’t like anything raw.” Johnny smiled, as if remembering some fond memory. “She was always a wee bit squeamish, your ma.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, scraping a pat of butter over your toast.

It dragged on longer than you had planned, Johnny standing to help you clear away the plates while Emma yawned, blinking sleepily at the couch in the living room. She was past the age of scheduled naps but on the weekends you were lax with her, letting her pass out on the sofa while you caught up on work or reading. 

Johnny seemed to understand that he was overstaying his welcome, though his eyes followed your daughter in that wide-eyed yearning look that got him anything he wanted when you were children. “Right then, Emma,” he said, ruffling her hair. “I’ll leave you to a nap, yeah?” “What are you gonna do all day, Johnny?” Emma asked, already curling up in her favorite woolen blanket. 

Johnny shrugged, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “I dunno, lass. I’m off work for the month.” “You should go to the park,” Emma said sleepily. “The park’s nice. Mum likes to read there.” “That’s a grand idea, lass,” he said gently. “It was lovely t’meet you, Emma.” She mumbled something else, tucking her nose deeper into the blankets as she began to snore. Something in your chest squeezed when Johnny tucked the blanket around Emma’s skinny arms, more gentle than you had ever seen him.

He looked at you then, his eyes all blue and warm. “Thank ye, kitty.”

You nodded. “You’re welcome. But you should go now.” You didn’t want him to linger, didn’t want him in your house while Emma was asleep, because that meant his attention was on you. 

Johnny stood, towering over you. “Of course, kitty.”

You walked him to the door, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. 

He paused on the doorstep. “Can I…Can I come again?” You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying no, to stop this cycle before it began. You didn’t want Emma getting used to a father that was gone eighty percent of the year. 

Johnny gripped the porch, as if preparing himself for your refusal. It was that gesture that made you sigh, looking out at the empty, icy street. 

“Tomorrow. I walk her home from school on my lunch break from work to Juliene’s house,” you pointed out a red brick cottage with sweet-faced woman gardening in the front. “She’s a godsend, she watches her until five now that Jack…Jack’s gone. Then I get home from work and make supper. Come then.” Meals would be easier, there was something for you to do while Johnny spent time with Emma, so you wouldn’t have to look at him constantly proving your teenage dreams right of him being a good father.

Johnny smiled, just like he used to, all teeth and excitement. “I don’t know how to tell ye how much this means t’me,” he said, stepping into your space again. You wondered how long he had been without human interactions for him to ignore societal rules like personal space. 

“I don’t deserve the chance you’ve given me, kitty,” Johnny said, the warmth of his body so close to yours oppressive. “God knows we have some unresolved words between us, but you’re the best mother I could’ve hoped for, considering that she’s…well, she’s like me.”

Johnny was raised by a human mother that treated him vaguely like a lapdog. Susan didn’t know what to do with a little boy that chewed on the furniture and got sick when she didn’t let him eat raw meat. 

It took Susan a long time to see the error in her ways, but still. You don’t let her watch Emma.

“I would be a monster to keep her from you,” you said dully, stepping back to regain your space. “She was already waiting for you.” Something shifted in his eyes. You didn’t like that look, it was the dark, possessive look he would give other kids whenever they tried to tease Tommy and you out of playing with him. 

Call it paranoia, but it seemed like he was already thinking of your little family as his. 

***

Emma waited for you next to the school doors, wearing a Winnie-the-Pooh sweater and her favorite dark blue jeans. Her friend Sasha was beside her, playing dolls with the little yarn princesses you had gotten them both last Christmas.

“Girls,” you greeted, smiling. “Sasha, are you walking home with us today?” Emma flew into your arms with a yip, barely restraining herself from licking your face.

It had taken a few years but she eventually learned that licking people’s faces, even her mother’s, was bad manners and generally unpleasant for the person involved. 

Sasha nodded, “Mum asked me to ask if you would. Daddy wouldn’t leave work.” Sasha was another case of a single mother and deadbeat father, and you had told her mother that you were willing to help with her any way you could. After all, it took a village for you to get stable with Emma, it’s worse when you don’t have anyone at all.

“C’mon, then,” you said, digging into your purse. “I brought snacks.”

Sasha and Emma brightened at the sight of two paper-wrapped biscuits, guilt-gifts from Tommy. 

The library was only a short walk to her school, and your home was only a short walk to the library, so you had just given up on the expense of having a car, borrowing Tom’s whenever you needed to drive to the city. You ushered the girls onto the sidewalk, making each of them hold your hand. 

“Tell me about your day, girls,” you said. “What did you learn?”

That began a river of chatter that you could get comfortably lost in, tales of poem books and origami and cheese sandwiches for lunch.

You liked Sasha, she was a sweet girl that didn’t mind your daughter’s wolfish tendencies, and they had been friends for practically half their lives. Sasha made you think about one day having another kid, maybe with a husband and a bigger house. 

The thought was easier when Johnny wasn’t around. He wouldn’t like any other man acting like a father to Emma, though you doubted it would bother him if you found a man to marry. He probably spent the majority of his leave at bars with pretty, childless women, while you were just a slightly sour memory of the girl he knew growing up. 

And Johnny would be gone soon. A month, he had said? You doubted it, they always called him back earlier.

“Is Johnny coming back?” Emma asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. Sasha smiled at her–they had obviously discussed the mysterious appearance of Emma’s father.

“Yes,” you said. “He’s going to have dinner with us tonight.” “Is he your boyfriend?” Sasha asked curiously. “My mum has a new boyfriend.” The thought of dating Johnny made you want to vomit. “No, of course not,” you said quickly, before the idea could take root in Emma. “He’s Emma’s father, and honestly, we don’t know each other very well anymore. He’s just here to spend time with you, bear.” Sasha clearly didn’t believe you, while Emma just nodded distantly, the cogs in her little brain churning.

You dropped Sasha off at her mother Lisa’s bakery. Lisa waved, mouthing thank you. 

“Did you like Johnny once?” Emma asked. “Like how Judy likes Tobin in school?” And there it was. Emma was not going to let this go. 

“Once,” you said. “But then he left for a long time. We don’t like each other like that anymore, bear, he’s just here for you.” That disappointed her, and you hated disappointing her. She had probably built up an image of having a mother and a father, happy and in love just like the movies.

“Oh, come on, bear,” you said, squeezing your shoulder. “You get to see him tonight, and maybe if you ask nicely I’ll stop at the store on my way home for ice cream.” That cheered her up a bit. Just like Johnny, she had a raging sweet tooth.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 35

masterpoast

This chapter marks the end of the Panama Arc! Where will our boys go next?

Damian awoke from a dreamless sleep. Gentle vibrations rocked his body. It felt like coming home on a bad day, or the way he imagined a mother might hold their child. His mind’s eye brought forth thousands of shifting images, each colour blending into the other until it was unrecognisable. Briefly, familiar pictures would make themselves clear only to disappear the next. He thought about Father. About home. The heat in his head intensified. The images went to when his Father yelled, when Richard looked down on him with pity and disappointment in equal measure. Those conversations played out, then played again. Damian cried out, begging for them to understand, to give him the approval they’ve withheld. The conversations played differently, but each variation in dialogue felt like a Herculean task to process and imagine. Every time his dream self said something different, the dream seemed to rewind back to the beginning, only for details to blur or transform in a mess.

Damian’s eyes opened to a dark night sky. Somebody spoke to him, words that melded into gibberish. He chirped back, and fell into another dream.

He was in school. Some classmate was saying something vapid and inane, and Damian snapped at her. She acted shocked and offended, but that only boiled Damian’s blood further. Suddenly some boyfriend or lackey came forward. Damian remembered that day well. He’d ended up in detention, and his Father did not take kindly to his retaliation.

The images faded away into another menagerie of meaningless memories.

When Damian awoke again, the water felt warm, like sunlight, but his body shivered with coldness and pain. Aching soreness thrummed under every scale. The gentle purring was still there. A deep call resonated through the water. It felt dark at the same time, like his eyes were being covered. Skinny arms enclosed his body, and a large weight was over his chest. His gills expanded, their skin brushing against a familiar scale texture.

“Danny?” He resented how week his voice felt, how to speak was like pushing a boulder.

Danny did not respond. His chest press against Damian’s, then fell away, then rose again in a regular pattern. He was sleeping. Damian tried to wiggle away, but to move even a muscle seemed too difficult a task. His friend, and if he had his way, future brother’s warmth enveloped him, and lulled him into slumber alongside the purrs.

For what felt like days, Damian drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he awoke to Danny spooning him handfuls of seaweed or kelp. Other times, Danny was kneading his hair, and stroking his fins. His lateral line tingled with the presence of many more, but he couldn’t place their presence. One time, he tried to sniff out their company, but couldn’t make it far before sleep reclaimed him.

Eventually, Damian managed to awaken with some more lucidity. The sounds in the water rang more sharply. There was a towel, or a blanket of some kind draped over his head. His arm did not radiate pain when lifting it as compared to before, but it was an effort nonetheless to lift it off of him.

Colour burst into his vision in sharp outlines. The water tinged with the purple of dawn above, and deep dark blue from the bottom. Damian blinked. No, it wasn’t water or blue at all, but grey blubber. Damian tapped the surface. Suddenly, the familiar smell clarified; it was the whale pod from earlier! As if sensing his alertness, a familiar baby whale emerged from over the edge of the ‘floor’. Dorothy sang in delight, and triggered a rare smile from Damian.

“Hello girl. I suppose your pod managed to catch up to me and Danny.” Dorothy swam in a little circle around him, gently nuzzling him with her nose. Damian reached out to her head, and rubbed soothing circles. What a relief; she was still healthy after her encounter with the poachers. “At least one of us managed to remain unscathed.”

Dorothy chirped again, a sadder sound. When she nudged his body, Damian had to refuse. “I cannot play with you yet. I am still unwell.”

“Damian!”

He whipped his head around, only to regret it when the headache spiked. Danny zipped over the mother whale’s back, and laid Damian over the towel. “Don’t push yourself, you’re still healing.”

Damian found no strength to protest. He heard Danny place something down beside him. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days, more or less.”

He tutted. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Blood blossoms. Skulker hit you with a candle made from them. They dissolve the bonds between hydroplasmic molecules.” That would explain the excruciating pain he’d felt, and was still feeling partially. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I was so scared.”

Damian’s fins stood up, only to drop. He wanted to be offended that the older boy was worried for him, but that indignity was strangely absent, instead replaced with a feeling of warmth.

“I’m sorry I let Skulker take you.”

There was the indignity. Damian hissed weakly. “Dispel yourself of such nonsense. We had no way of knowing beforehand that he would strike or where, nor that the GiW would have beaten us to Panama.”

“But-“

“If you continue that statement, I will rise up and bite your sail, headache be damned.”

Danny did not wisely shut his mouth, instead crossing his arms. “You’re literally half dead and you’re still being difficult.” His complaints came across without coldness. Frustration, but also teasing.

“I have a reputation, as the youngest of my household.”

Danny pushed forward his previous cargo of kelp, mussels and clams. Damian did not have it in him to protest the shellfish. At least they would be soft enough to eat without much trouble. Instead, his eyes drifted down to the grey back of the mother whale.

His friend heard the question before he voiced it. “These guys managed to catch up to us after I got you back. They’ve been really helpful, taking us places where there’s lots of food.”

“That is helpful…”

Danny shucked a mussel and offered it to him. “Your friend’s been really worried about you too. She keeps bothering me and trying to nuzzle you. I’ve had to chase her away a few times.”

Quietly, Damian’s heart soared at the idea of the playful calf caring for him so much, although he was careful not to show it. Damian took the offered morsel and swallowed it without much ado. He turned his head to the side, and stared out at the great expanse rolling by above him.

He had little energy to talk much. The two of then sat in mostly in silence. Danny retold the events that transpired at Skulker’s yacht, and Damian listened. After that, the only sounds were the whale song pinging back and forth between each member of the pod, and their own chewing. Before long, Damian was stuffed full, and he found himself lying on Danny’s belly, watching a shipwreck pass by in the distance.

So much had happened in such a small amount of time. He used to think he was a creature of action, and battle. To have a quiet moment was rare. Something was always going on; something had to always be going on, but in this moment? The Fentons’ engines were busted. The GiW were blind without the Fentons’ help or any tips, and Skulker’s yacht was down for the count too. In this moment, they had no pursuers. Only the two of them and a pod of whales were here for what could be hundreds of miles.

Perhaps it was this smaller body, but Damian found himself easing into Danny’s touch, into a relaxed lull.

“What now?” He murmured. “We have lost most of our supplies.”

Danny shrugged. “Not the first time it’s happened to us. We’ll get more. ‘Sides, the bag I ‘borrowed’ from Skulker’s got some nifty stuff.”

“Our plan to pass through Panama failed. I doubt a second try would be fruitful.” The American government would surely notice a second breach of the area. They tended to hang around like that, like leeches, or cockroaches, or barnacles. Incredibly annoying, and very hard to get rid of.

Danny considered these words. The water swirled lightly around Damian’s body, kicked up by the older boy’s fins. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. I have already told you. Apologise any further and I will take measures.”

A first pushed into his hair. Damian screeched with embarrassment. The other looped around his chin and locked him in place, and Damian’s head burned with the frictional heat. “Bold words for someone in noogie range!”

“Cease this! You are attacking me because I told you the truth!”

“Lalallalala I can’t hear you! All this water’s blocking out the sound!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

Danny laughed. With consideration towards Damian’s health, the noogie attack did not last long, but it was the blow to Damian’s pride that mattered more. Stupid tiny body. Stupid teenage siren strength locking him tight against transparent scales. Damian cursed these things many times.

They settled down again soon after, and Damian pressed him again. “If you have a human form, perhaps you can smuggle me through Brazil. We could swim out the Amazon.”

Danny blinked at him. “Dude, you think I can speak a lick of Portuguese? Somehow I feel like your grand theft auto skills might not cut it against the cartels. Or the mosquitos,” he finished with a shudder.

Tut, Damian could cut through any cartel, and he could certainly clip a mosquito’s wings mid-air, but Danny did not need to know that yet. It was a monumentally nonsensical plan, admittedly, upon further consideration.

That still left them with few other options. Could they go south all around South America? How much time would that take? The timeline of their journey was going to have to be revised heavily.

“Well, I do know someone.”

Damian’s ear fins perked up. “An ally of yours?”

“You could say that. Her name’s Dora. She runs a kingdom down south, just off the coast of Chile. I have an open invitation and she owes me one.”

That was… good news. For all the adventuring they had been doing, Damian had never thought that Danny would have contacts in the underwater world that he could use. After the reveal of his human form, it appeared even more unlikely.

“You think this friend of yours has the resources to assist us?”

“I mean, she has a whole kingdom. I’m sure she can spare us some magic doohickey or whatever.” Ugh, never underestimate the inarticulacy of an American teenager.

“Very well then.”

“There was another thing I wanted to bring up with you.”

Damian groaned. His body was already getting tired.

“Since we’re gonna be travelling for a bit longer than expected, I was thinking maybe we had some fun on the way.” Damian’s eyes blinked open. In Danny’s hands, an underwater camera gleamed. It was very good equipment, the kind of stuff Timothy would spend thousands on and then gush over for weeks. “Skulker just had this lying around. I figured he would’ve taken pictures of you, so I took it to destroy them. But it feels bad to get rid of a perfectly good camera, right?”

The camera was passed to him. His small torso was barely bigger than the equipment, but being underwater made it easier to handle. He ran his hands down its smooth surface, taking note of the controls.

“I-if you don’t want to, we can-,”

“It’s perfect.”

The tension in the water disappeared. Danny breathed a sigh of relief. The boy flopped onto the ‘floor’ beside Damian, lanky arms draped over Damian’s tail. “Oh, that’s great.”

“For what it’s worth,” Damian mumbled, voice weakening underneath the embrace of precious sleep. “This journey has already been very exciting, and in a word, fun. And despite our setbacks, I look forward to where it takes us next.”

“Yeah. So do I.”

Danny continued talking about this and that, and Damian mumbled half-hearted replies until he finally fell asleep again, underneath a blanket and Danny’s embrace.

[dnvrsmedia]

Looking Towards A Better Tomorrow

Ellie Williams x Reader

Summary: aftermath of Seattle & Santa Barbra

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

an: if you’ve seen this before it’s because i’m reposting from my ao3 do not be alarmed!

———————

The sun beamed onto your skin as the world seemed to turn slowly. An off feeling encapsulating you, sucking you in like quicksand. Tumultuous waters never let up, drowning you in a flurry of conflicting emotions. Stuck in a state of emotional limbo, your far off stare didn’t go unnoticed by all. The auburn haired girl furrowed her eyebrows. Your catatonic like state sending a pang of worry in her gut.

It’s been months since the tragic events of Seattle occurred. Months since the three of you made it back to Jackson by the skin of your teeth. Yet, Ellie wonders if a part of you stayed all those miles away. Your bright and bubbly exterior dimmed almost completely all those months ago. Neither of you ever managed to get a full night's rest without the other waking up in a cold sweat, screaming in terror. Walking on eggshells around each other didn’t help either. Her refusal to think about the events combined with your selective mutism caused conflicts to arise.

You didn’t speak for a month straight following the events. Maria begged the two of you to join Jackson’s weekly counseling sessions. She mentioned something about the importance of working through trauma. That day was the first time you laughed in weeks. Not because there was anything funny, but in frustration. Words cannot explain what Seattle was like for you. How could anyone understand the awful things that happened? How terrified you were at not only yourself and the world around you, but at the person your lover was becoming. The sweet, snarky, and sharp little girl was no longer there. Revenge flowed through her veins, constricting all rational thought—leaving behind a tunnel visioned killer.

There is no doubt that the two of you have changed—arguably for the worse. The innocence ripped from your chests made it hard for you to stay in Jackson. The memories flooding your mind as you walk past Jesse’s old place leaves a sinking feeling in your gut. Suddenly you’re feeling the burning sensation of an arrow piercing through your skin as you drop to the ground. The scent of the red metallic substance pooling out of your body and onto the wood floor takes over. Your breath constricts as the feeling of a bicep as big as your thigh cradles your neck in its deviously tight restraint. The whales of Ellie pleading to spare your life start to drown out as the thumbing of your heartbeat overtakes.

“Hey, Hey! It’s alright, you’re home.” A familiar voice breaks through your flashback. Your eyes blink one then twice, adjusting to your surroundings. When did you get on all fours? Your body is heaved over as your hands grip the soil fueled by terrifying strength. A freckled hand moves to cup your jaw. The back and forth motion of her thumb sends a soothing vibration across your body. Words of affirmation spew from your lover’s lips as your breathing slows. Your canonic like state continues on until the move is made.

The farmhouse was a blessing in disguise. Not only for your sanity, but for the growth of your relationship with Ellie.

As the days pass and as the night goes, glimpses of your personalities before come back in pieces. Substituting the painful reminders with tending to the farm allowed you the space to slowly heal not just emotionally, but heal your relationship with Ellie. You wouldn’t want to admit this out loud, but you held resentment against your freckled faced lover. You asked yourself day in and day out why you weren’t enough. Revenge overtook her life and swept her up in the flurry of it all, leaving you behind—broken and battered. Rebuilding your life from ground up once again. You cursed her name in a silent prayer; eyes burning holes in her body, wishing that there wasn’t a single part of you that belonged to her. Yet, you stayed. Through all the times your anger almost moved you led with blind rage, you stepped away. No matter how

much you lost, you will never succumb to hate. Rage ruined your life, took away your freedom, your friends, your smile, your light…her light. Rage took your girl away from you.

“We need to talk.” A solemn face adorned your features—this seemingly permanent look etched into your skin since Seattle.

Ellie— currently tucked in the chicken coop, tending to Bertha, the ginger feathered Golden Comet. A grunt in acknowledgment is given as she finishes laying the feed inside of the coop, walking out to you at the door.

She goes to fidget with her two fingers and is met with the top of her palm. A familiar sinking feeling lands in her gut at the memory. The physical reminder of all that she has lost. Ellie takes a short breath and shoves her three-fingered hand into her back pocket. Ellie’s eyes fail to reach yours—she knows what your face looks like. The upturned brows with a sad smile. She knows you worry. She also knows she’s hurt you the most.

“You know I love you, Ellie Williams.” Your jaw clenches—‘you will not cry before you finish’ repeats in your head like a mantra.

Ellie’s eyes finally meet yours as she tentatively nods her head, scared to see where this is going.

“My love for you is what has made me stay. No matter how much you have broken my heart, Ellie, I stayed. I stayed with you even though I had no idea why I'd do that to myself,” Your eyes gaze up at the setting sky as Ellie trails your face, taking in your words.

“I have been so fucking good to you!” You huff with a sad smile.

“I stayed and I killed for you Ellie. I’ve done things that I can never undo. I’ve done and seen things that have changed me forever. I mean I can’t close my eyes without seeing death. I can’t sleep without hearing Seattle.” Tears frustratingly slide down the rounds of your cheeks, once overused by the smile that seemed to never leave your face oh so long ago.

Tears well up in your lover's eyes as she frustratingly wipes her eyes, hating the vulnerability.

“I spent so long asking what I did wrong after you left. If I was ever enough for you, and it broke me. It broke me so fucking bad, Ellie.” You sobbed, unable to keep your tears at bay.

The sound of your cries sends a knife through the auburn haired girl's heart. Ellie pulls you into her chest, encapsulating you in her arms—your home.

“I know, babe, I’m so fucking sorry.” Ellie whines as her tears flow more freely. You breathe in her scent, calming you down.

“But I stayed, okay? I’m always here. We went through hell back there and I know that we are just barely surviving with our heads above water, but i’m fucking here okay? You don’t walk out on me ever again you hear me?” You pull your body from the crook of her neck and speak, holding her eye contact intensely.

“And you talk to me, you hear me? None of that holding it in. You talk to me, Williams. We have no one left and I refuse to lose you too. You may not care about your life but I. Fucking. Do.”

With those words, Ellie breaks down in sobs. You haven’t seen her cry for months. Ellie is a protector, she puts everything on the line to protect those she loves, even if it means sparing her own feelings. Or at least, what she believes to be her feelings. Ellie had never been in a position where she felt safe enough to express or engage in her feelings. If she did, there would be consequences immediately causing her to never open up again. She also views this as a preservation of your life. Everyone she has ever opened up to has died because of her one way or another. Why have the gift and the curse of being immune if all she caused was death all around her?

Heavy heaves and blubbers of ‘I’m sorry’ leave her mouth as she clings onto you for dear life. The decades of guilt and trauma being released from her body as she crumples in your touch. These tears aren’t only for the pain she’s inflicted upon you, her light, but for everything. For never meeting her mother to losing her first love, to Joel. All of these events shaped her to be who she is today. How cruel? To have a life full of loss but a gift so precious. When those who love her dearly die, those who she believes deserve life more than her. What a cyclical fate to be bestowed upon an ordinary girl. Having to know so much yet never knowing herself.

Your heart breaks as you hold onto the fragile frame of the girl you love. Steady steps are taken to make way back inside. Hoping this is a turning point, you sit her in the bathroom and heat up some water. Ellie’s tears have calmed as she watches you gather the buckets of heated water. You fill up the tub before turning to reach her eyes with a saddened smile.

“Arms up.” You tugged at the bottom of her now off-white vest. A small yet grateful nod is given by your lover before she lifts her arms above her head.

This was a routine you have done many times with Ellie after tough patrols. Whenever her body ached too much or her thoughts ran too deep, you would bathe her. The memories of these flood back to her as you help her undress fully. Ellie plants a kiss to your temple before you usher her to lay back in the tub.

You unwrap your favorite package of soap you had been given by Dina on your last trip back to Jackson. The beautiful lavender was your signature scent Ellie grew to love just as much as you. Ellie reached for your hand tentatively— gauging for your reaction. She takes it as a sign to further her touch when you intertwine your fingers. Her chapped lips press kisses to your palm and hand, showing her gratitude.

“M’ gonna have to let go so I can help, El.” You laugh.

Ellie’s eyes snap up to yours at the nickname she missed hearing so badly. She never realized how much she could miss someone she stayed under the same roof with. Fearing that this intimacy would flutter away, Ellie grips your hand tighter. Fear showed in her eyes as she pleaded for you to stay.

“Don’t…please, just,” She huffs as she feels herself becoming emotional. Learning that your emotions are natural will be a learning curve; proving its difficulty right now. “Could you…come in with me?” Ellie closes her eyes to calm herself down.

The skilled killer no longer made a home in your partner's body. All that was left of her was the fragile soul of a girl who’s been hurt too many times. The girl who wanted to be protected, loved, and happy for once.

“Okay, baby girl. I’m here, alright? Just gotta let go for a bit so I can get undressed but I'm right here.” You kiss her palm once before slowly letting go of her fingers. The tense grip on your hand loosens as she watches you move towards the tub.

You slide your body behind your lover gently before picking up her designated shower rag and your favorite soap. Your hands gently work through the auburn haired girls' taught muscles. Nimble fingers taking away all tension she has been carrying on her shoulders while scrubbing her clean—leaving a new start. A start full of love and light for the both of you. Of mourning your past lives, but embracing the good yet to come. Embracing the healing.

[starshooter-1004]

The Bond

@deliciousfestsalad​

Masterlist​

I woke up that morning and rolled over to find the bed empty. I sat up and saw that Namor and our daughter were missing. I got out of bed sliding a pair of slippers on and wrapping a robe around. I placed my royal bands on my wrist before exiting. I walked to the Ancestral hut hoping to find them both there; Namor loves teaching our daughter the way of the Talokian people. 

She truly was the new light in our lives and Namor’s pride. He brings her everywhere teaching her to swim as early as two months; though as a previous surface dweller made me anxious. Then I remember she is more like her father than I; even at six months she has his personality. She is a spitting image of her father that sometimes I wonder if she will inherit anything from me. 

“There with the whales In Reina,” spoke Atuma. I turned around to find Atuma standing there and bowing to me. 

“This early? Poor child hasn’t eaten yet,” I sighed looking down into the cavern.

“Thank you Atuma,” I smiled and went to the hut to change. I put in a royal garment and made my way to the cavern and dove in. Arriving into the city it was a lively as ever. The festival of the moon is beginning this weekend so the city is in a scurry to prepare. 

“In reina,” spoke a villager. They all gestured and bow and I returning it. 

“Have you seen K’Uk’Ulkan?” I asked. They nodded and pointed to the whale sanctuary. I smiled and said my thanks before swimming toward it. The whales here were majestic and powerful beings; each child and adult may bond with a whale cub once it’s born. The whale then being their companion for life and travel confidant. Training for the whales for battle began young; but the Talokanian were gentle in there trainings compared to surface dwellers. 

Before becoming one of the people I never gave it much thought to the cruelty of man. Until coming here and seeing people live. Amongst such beautiful creatures made me realize just how cruel some can be. I swam through the paths and tunnels of the sanctuary avoiding the chaos. Members of the training team were prepping festival garments on Namor and I’s whales. I didn’t think it was possible but even without being blood related to the people I could still bond with the animal. 

My beautiful Marna was a female humpback. She was young and full of spirit and always excited for seeing new parts of the ocean with Namor and I. Namor had the oldest of the whales in the Clan. He was the biggest amongst them and was battle hardened. I suddenly heard a childs laugh in the distance and recognized it. I quickly swam to the spot to see Namor and our child Aura floating next to a mother and calf. 

Namor floated behind her arms extended as Aura excitedly touched the gills of the whale. The whale watched closely at Namor and Aura as her calf came up to them. Namor extended his hand gently touching the calf and taking Aura. Namor placed Aura’s hands onto the whale and the calf sang excitedly drawing a happy giggle from my daughter. Namor smiled and chuckled quickly picking up our child and kissing her head. 

“My daughter my beautiful, smart girl,” Namor beamed. 

“You will be a wonderful queen one day like your mother. Though I hope you inherit her kindness over my temper as you grow. You will be fierce as your father but wise as your mother. For she is the wisest woman I have ever beheld and my is she a beauty,” Namor cradled Aura looking at her lovingly. Tears pricked at my eyes hearing such words. 

Namor then looked toward my direction, he knew I was here and extended his hand out. I smiled swimming toward him taking his hand as he pulled me in. He kissed me and looked back to Aura. I touched his hand as he held her, how lucky I am to have such a beautiful life. 

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 8: Judging by the Cover

In which Danny gets a look at Christopher's library. Contains: 1.6k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

“I’ve saved the best for last.” 

After almost an entire day of being dragged around the mansion, with a merciful break to eat another well-prepared meal from Sam, the cart rolled to a stop in front of a set of grand double doors. 

Danny gave the doors a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. They were big, sure, but they didn’t look much different than the rest of the mansion, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand to listen to stories about how these rich people had gotten their fancy things from other rich people in what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of showing off to each other about it, even if Sam had made some of the stories a little more entertaining. 

“This is the library. It’s HUGE, and I don’t just mean that because all the books are twice your size. There’s hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Penn family, big book people.” 

Danny’s eyes widened. Books? Those were something of a rarity to her—she was certain there was someone who sold books in town, but she had always been too busy working with the animals, or in the garden, or in the kitchen to bother with a hobby like that. 

“Uh…yeah, I haven’t exactly…gotten the chance to, uh, read a lot of books.” 

She could almost feel the cart vibrate with excitement. “Then you are gonna get the socks knocked off of you when you see this. Anything you wanna read about, I guarantee he’s got it.” 

“Sam, wait-” 

Danny’s protests were cut short as the doors to the library opened and the cart zipped inside. 

It was just as Sam had said—the place was enormous, with rows and rows of books as tall as trees lined up from the floor to the ceiling. Her head craned backwards as she followed the sight up and up, any remark she’d previously had ready long since swallowed by her amazement. “W…woah. Where the hell do you even start?” 

The cart eagerly rolled on forward. “Well, you could certainly start with the factual stuff, y’know, history, encyclopedias, stuff like that. That’s all this section here,” they said, not bothering to slow down as they passed the section in question. “But that’s boring. My favorite’s over here.” 

They whizzed past a few more rows of books, and then Sam rolled to a stop, proudly gesturing towards the shelf they stopped in front of with a dainty flourish of the cart’s metal handle. “See? Fiction!” 

Danny laughed. “...fiction?” 

“Yeah, like…made-up stories. It’s got everything. Here.” A sturdy book was plucked off the shelf and floated through the air next to the cart, motioning for Danny to step onto it. Not looking at the ground below it, she cautiously stepped over the edge of the cart and placed her weight on the book’s cover, which had an elaborate, gilded design adorning it. It slowly lowered itself to the ground with Danny on it, allowing her to step off and onto the tile floor. 

Another book flew off the shelf and landed next to her—the pages flipped quickly before landing on one of the inside illustrations, which seemed to depict some sort of wooden puppet at sea, sailing away from an enormous, monstrous whale. She barely had time to process it before another book set itself down on her other side, this one bearing a cover of a handsome knight fighting a fire-breathing dragon. More and more books began to pile up in rapid succession, until Danny had become trapped within an ever-increasing mountain of literature. 

“Hey! Sam! Slow down, wait.” She took a deep breath, and then muttered, quietly, “listen, I…I can’t read.” 

The erratic book-flinging halted to a stop, one book in midair sheepishly putting itself back into place on the shelf. “Oh.” 

“Did you just say you can’t read?” 

The giant footsteps had escaped her notice until they were too close to evade. She scowled. “Sam!” she whispered harshly, suddenly getting the feeling that the spirit had abandoned her. That little punk. Did they do this on purpose?

She glared upwards and saw Christopher looking down at her from over the stack of books that surrounded her. “None of your fucking business, bastard. For the record, I’ve had to work twice as hard as you’ll ever work just to keep me and Nathan fed. Reading wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.” 

Christopher tilted his head, regarding her with what appeared to be a genuinely curious expression. “I’ve never met someone who didn’t know how to read before.” 

A book smacked him in the back of the head.

“Ow!” He rubbed his head and looked around futilely for Sam, before sighing with a single, drawn-out breath. He glanced down toward the books near Danny again and picked one off the top of the pile, turning it back and forth as he considered the cover.

From what little she could see, it appeared to be quite pretty, with delicate gold details on the front and a tower of some kind, with the illustration of a long braid of golden hair running along its spine. 

“This is a good one,” Christopher mused. “I could…” 

He looked away for a moment, tossing something in his head with a conflicted expression before he looked back to Danny. “...read it to you, if you’d like?” 

Danny raised a single eyebrow. She had a snarky retort all lined up, but she found herself pausing as she looked at the book in the giant’s hands. She’d never had the opportunity to read before, but she did like stories. Nathan used to tell her some that he’d heard from his family. Her heart ached at the memory, and she took a deep breath of her own as she crossed her arms. “What’s it about,” she mumbled, refusing to look at Christopher.

“It’s called Rapunzel.” He idly flipped through the pages. “It’s about a princess with long, golden hair trapped in a tower by a witch, and rescued by her true love. It’s a classic.” 

“Sounds boring,” she grumbled.

“There’s some rather graphic violence too, if that makes it more intriguing for you.” 

She rolled her eyes, trying to look away from the giant and failing as she looked back toward the book. 

Christopher bent down, rolling his eyes back at her as he extended a hand towards her, like he expected her to climb onto it. “You ought to give it a chance. Come on, I’ll just read the first chapter and you can see if you’re interested after that.” 

Danny glared at him. Glared at his hand. And then glared at him again. She was more interested in hearing the story than she was letting on, but to have it be read to her by him? 

She felt a slight chill as a tiny breeze ruffled her clothes. It felt like Sam was trying to coax her into this too. I feel like I’m being played somehow.

She took a bold, paradoxically defiant step onto Christopher’s palm. “Fine. ONE chapter. And then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the day.” 

The giant laughed softly as he carried her to a nearby table. “Whatever you’d like, Danny.” 

* * * * * * * * * * 

A Little More Than One Chapter Later

Once Christopher reached the end of the story, he realized that Danny, who had taken a seat on the table between him and the book, had begun to make soft snoring noises as her head bent slightly forward. 

And she was the one who insisted we keep going. She didn’t even hear how it ended. He chuckled, poking her lightly in the side. “Hey. Doll. You’re drooling on the pages.” 

“Hwah-huh…?” She made a tired noise as she stirred awake, blinking a few times as she looked slowly between the book and him. Her eyes suddenly widened as she startled herself awake, a look between embarrassment and indignation clear across her face. “I WAS NOT. I’m awake!” 

“Oh? So you heard what happened to the blind prince?”

Her face went blank. “...since when was he blind?” 

“You were asleep for longer than I thought, doll.” He grinned. He could see past her prideful posturing to know that she had enjoyed the story, even if she hadn’t been able to remain conscious for the whole thing. It is a little late.

She huffed. “Well, maybe you could reread some of the end, so I can…” she yawned, “figure out how it ended—” 

“Oh, no.” He closed the book shut and picked her up, placing her on his palm—she only feebly swiped at him in protest this time. “I think that’s enough for tonight. It’s almost midnight.” 

“It’s almost WHAT?!” Danny looked to the windows, which showed that the outside world had long since succumbed to the pitch black of night. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.” 

He’d already made it down the hall, walking as slowly and carefully as he could while he cradled Danny in his palms, trying not to jostle her. To his surprise, about halfway there she began to curl up and close her eyes, giving up entirely on sending any sort of malevolence his way, at least for now.

…what?

No one had ever been comfortable enough to sleep in his hands like this before, not even the ones who thought they could trust him. Seeing her like this, at ease and relaxed, was such a strange contrast from how she normally acted around him, with her guard up and a steely look of irritation in her eyes. 

His heart fluttered a little as he observed her, but he swallowed down the feeling of hope that surged in his chest. As lovely and enticing as the feeling was, he knew it was a rose with thorns beneath it. He knew what happened when he got too attached to the humans he was supposed to eat. 

They all screamed, in the end. 

* * * * * * * * * * Next chapter ->

Is it time for more Danny and Christopher bonding? I think it's time for more Danny and Christopher bonding. Or, well, whatever you want to call it. Either way, tune in next week for chapter 9: A Taste So Bittersweet!

Thank you for reading! We're getting really close to one of my favorite chapters so far. Things are going to start picking up soon! I promise!

[lover-of-mine]

This is gonna make my head hurt to defend Taylor Kelly. But here we are with this wedding nonsense or them being even close to it.. Why that is a horrible idea.

Listen Taylor was the only LI I was worried about until that awkward ILY and Lucy. But truly she was a developed character. Buck chased her down to her Dads prison. They were in fact equally to blame for the actions that broke them up. I wanted to punch Buck for the stupidity of inviting her to move in after cheating on her. But let's be real they could have course corrected if they wanted to. Look at Henren... But they didn't want to. But she was the LI that came closest to end game because we saw their angst, their mistakes, their make ups and their mess. Side confession when Eddie was with Anna I was actually happy Buck landed "his whale". I mean I hated it but I was happy for the character that if he couldn't have Eddie he had her. Because yes their chemistry was amazing. Don't get me started on that bathroom sex scene

And that's what this show is about. Messy ass people with hearts of gold.

So why exactly does it make any sense that BT would just be married when they haven't had the angst yet. The tension. TBH I really thought like you he may last till the emd of the first half. But now?? The fourth epsiode even seems to long for the investment. The fandom can not handle 4 weeks because the other side is bat shite crazy.

I'm going to make a confession, think about Buck and Taylor more than I should think about Buck and Taylor, because the thing is, if they wanted to, with where the relationship was at the end of season 4, they could have developed Taylor in a specific way to make her Buck's endame and even after most of 5a, you could still make that relationship end in a wedding (it would probably lead to a messy divorce but I could see 5a Buck riding that relationship all the way down the aisle), like they tried with Taylor in a very specific way, because considering the way she left, 5hey made a point to bring her back while humanizing her as much as they could, so that gave Taylor a different light compared to season 2. And like you said "Buck landing his whale" could work. She was this great multi-season love interest that came back to Buck's life in a moment he needed and we saw the friendship being built, we saw her with the firefam, we saw her support Buck through something that was awful, and then we saw them getting together. At the end of season 4, it made sense if we're never going to get buddie then Taylor is going to go stay and work it out. Because all they had to do to make Bucktaylor work is make Taylor as intense as she is about the job about Buck. If they opened season 5 and Taylor was head over heels in love with Buck, it would work. If she was that intense about him it would be like a decent relationship for him. But the show me the point of not letting them have a chance because they showed us they didn't know how to love each other. But they were trying and Taylor got a lot of development, she got a her own tragic backstory episode, she had beef with the LAPD, she was something, she existed in the plot. And the whole idea that they would just marry Buck on the first episode is madness, it's not like the relationship is anywhere near developed, for all we know they are still taking it slow, so why would they just suddenly get married. That's legit such a weird thing to think all of a sudden.