#Like what sort of cat is Rusty

[the-faceless-bride]

Draco Headcannons

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin Reader how your relationship starts and relationship headcanons (very long)

A/N it's been a while so I'm very rusty so forgive my terrible writing.

How your relationship started:

Meeting him unofficially in the first year, you had been talking with THE Harry Potter when little Draco and his two friends came over; he'd begun breaking down and belittling everyone in a group going down the line. Starting with Ron Weasley, picking apart his clothing, hair, and his freckled face. Then Moving on to Hermione and heavily looking down on her muggle born bloodline calling her a "filthy little Mudblood" laughing at her sad expression before his gaze turned to you but then he's stumped.

He realizes that he doesn't recognize you or know anything about you or your family to scoff or laugh at. so with only a gaze he spare you, it's not like you'll be all that important in the future son there isn't any need to bother with you, if you were hanging out with the Mudblood and a Weasley you'd end up with them after the sorting ceremony "you can tell much about a person by their company." is what his father always told him.

After being rejected by Potter Draco made it his mission to pass and destroy Potter and his friends in any way he can. he had been brainstorming on just how to do that when you again fell right into his hands "SLITHERIN!" the sorting hat called out after being placed on your head, almost as quickly as it had when placed on his. Just maybe you weren't as useless and forgettable as he thought. you were 'friends' with Potter and if Draco couldn't get close to Potter to know about him, he would just get close to you. He smiled at his plan and thought about how proud his father would be of him for making it.

From that point on Draco had gone out of his way to befriend you, and while it was mostly just for show the more time he spent with you the more he started to view you as an actual friend then just a tool to get to Potter, however he did still have the issue if looking down on you sometimes. But you had learned not to take it so personally as being around him more showed you it was just a habit of his to look for the flaws in everyone else around him.

By your second year, you had officially been welcomed into Draco's small friend group and Draco had gotten to learn more about you, how you were a second-generation pureblood, what your parents did for a living, where you lived. you weren't too bad, truly the only thing he'd looked down on is how little money your family had compared to him. But then again not many families reached the same high-class status as the Malfoy family.

you and Draco had fallen into a comfortable dynamic; you didn't follow him around like his other two goons. but you did sit with them at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. and did study together and partner up in some classes you had together. it was comfortable. However, when the chamber of secrets open and more danger invades the school, you start to stick to Draco more than in the past, he does take this opportunity to poke at you for being a "scaredy cat" this is where your relationship with Draco takes a turn, and you begin to develop a big fat crush on Draco Malfoy. You would much rather die than tell him or anyone else for that matter, but you do let your crush slip to Hermione who asks you if you had hit your head recently. You had made her promise to never tell a soul about what she now knows to anybody ever or you would make her eat slugs, an empty threat but she got the message.

and by the end of the year, you and Draco had reached letter status, the both of you had started sending letters to one another. and this is when his family first noticed the relationship between you two and although his father and mother were alright with you being friends, they didn't expect it to go any farther than that. his father didn't think someone with little money and status was worth carrying the Malfoy name, his mother however was open to seeing where your friendship lead. over the summer you had also gotten closer to Potter and told Draco about Potters life and plans for the future.

Your third year back is when your little crush on Draco had changed into a blooming love, a burning fire under your skin. You wished for nothing more than to be able to love him and him love your back. You could stare into his silver blue eyes for ages and wished to run your hands across him and burry yourself sweetly in his platinumed blonde hair. you were awed and inspired by him. But you swallowed your feelings down deep inside of you, little did you know Draco had started feeling the same. However, whereas you knew very well how you felt Draco did not. it confused him, he didn't know why he's stomach felt fluttery and why his body felt so hot when he was around you. he didn't understand it, so he chose to ignore it. but he couldn't help but spend more of his time around you, walking to a few classes with you. or just making more conversation with you that wasn't just about the school, classes or potter.

and emotions ran high, and feelings were almost spilt after he was attacked by Hagrid's hippogriff Buckbeak. you'd wished he just knew when to swallow his own pride but of course when it came of Harry Potter, he just couldn't help himself. he had landed himself in the hospital wing a nasty scratch down his arm and ghostly white from loss of blood. you hadn't left his side the whole time which the both of you had secretly enjoyed.

however, all good things must come to an end and your feelings hit a conflict when Hermione, Ron, and Harry had told you Draco had gotten Buckbeak a death sentence and you were caught in the middle of your friends wanting you to cut Draco out for good and your feelings towards Draco. and your budding romance came to a screeching halt when Hermione had not only threatened but also punched Draco and not knowing what to do you didn't follow him when he ran away, you instead stayed behind and tried to save Buckbeak with your Gryffindor friends. which unsurprisingly Draco was unhappy about, so much so that he had started to give you the silent treatment as punishment for not taking his side. he was shocked at just how much it had upset him. And for the rest of the year, he had kept his interactions with you little to none. taking this punishment time to try and get his feelings straight and at least try to get an understanding of why he was feeling the way he was.

Over the summer you had written to Draco every other day. much to his surprise. Even his parent started to take note of how often he got letters from you and how his face slightly lit up when he got the letter. his mother was intrigued and one morning at breakfast after giving him his newest letter from you, which he instantly opened and began reading at the table, why he hadn't written you back, "she took Potters side, this is her lesson." he stated bluntly making his father raise a brown of suspicion.

but coming the fourth year he had decided that your silent treatment punishment was over. and things hand almost gone back to the way things were before. unfortunately, he had underestimated how his absents in your life would give Potter plenty of time to get uncomfortably close to you. much closer than you two used to be. And Draco slightly kicked himself for not seeing that coming. But he had no issue knocking Potter down a few pegs Infront of you. watching Potter sputter on his words looking from you to Draco in embarrassment, but again unfortunately for Draco you had gotten close enough to Potter to start defending hum a little or at the least trying to redirect Draco's attention to something else.

it was at this point that Pansy started to really show herself and try to get close to Draco, and Draco had an idea. He had started going out of his way to spend time with Pansy Infront of you. he still didn't fully understand his feelings for you, or maybe he was just in denial, but he wanted you to put more of your time and every into him. He could tell it got some kind of reaction, the way your jaw tensed, and your eyes slightly sharpened at him and Pansy. but you never said anything. never did anything. but Draco could tell it was getting to you. you'd crack eventually.

but that breaking point never came, because while he thought announcing that his date to the yule ball was Pansy would cause you to crack and finally tell him what has been on your mind and maybe even get a confession finally on how you feel about him. as it would do worders for his ego. (And defiantly not give him the confidence to accept his own feelings and confess.) instead you drop an atomic bomb on him. "Oh. well, that's nice. Harry is taking me as his date. so, I guess I will be seeing you there."

a bit of a lie on your end as Harry and your relationship was strictly platonic as he had grown out of his little crush on you and had already moved on to fancy someone else. but he did agree to go to the dance with you after the girl he fancied already had a date and it saved you both the embarrassment of going to the dance alone. You had worn a beautiful blue and green dress with unique ruffles and a flattering shape. you and Hermione couldn't stop complementing each other's dresses. you were so busy chatting with Hermione that you missed the way Draco was staring longingly at you from afar and that was when Draco fully understood how he felt and how he wanted to be with you. he had finally accepted he was in love. and confessed to you later that night when he caught you in the halls heading back to the dorms.

it was an unexpected confession as he had dragged you away only to stupidly blurt out "I'm in love with you." you both clearly weren't expecting that of all things to come out of Draco Malfoys mouth and he quickly started stuttering and blabbering about how he's always felt something but never fully understood and how he has made the stupid decision to try and make you jealous. and he was thankful when you had told him to stop talking and just kiss you. which he gladly did.

Relationship headcannons:

Draco is all about affection. just not in public. When in public he will stand and sit closer to you and might hold your hand or put his hand on your back to guide you when you two are walking somewhere, but when alone he can't keep his hands off you. He holds you close and refuses to let go. he kisses and smuggles you nonstop. he's very clingy and even when he isn't smothering you in affection he's following you everywhere. walks you to ever class, and somehow, he gets even more clingy when he is jealous and he gets jealous often. especially when it comes to your relationship with Harry Potter.

he loves to shower you with gifts and sweets. he's constantly getting you the newest clothes and jewelry, the prettiest dresses, and is always taking you into Hogsmeade for sweet dates. it's one of the many things you like to do together; you also like to fly brooms together. he had even taken you to get your own broom and played for whichever you liked the most no matter the cost. he's a big romantic at heart but tries to keep the mysterious and careless tuff guy act when Infront of others. but he grows more mature and grows out of it around his sixth year.

Draco is a big nickname giver. if you couldn't already tell. he often uses "Love", or "Darling" when addressing you. but will also throw in "sweetheart" or names that are descriptors (if you have blonde hair, he calls you blondie, or if you have glasses, he'll call you specks, or if you are a mischievous person he'll call you "minx")

he also tries his best to keep your relationship a secret from his parents. they have a very specific and high standard of who they would want Draco to be with, and they would rather set an arranged marriage for him. and being with you would put a pin in their plans. it isn't until your sixth year that your relationship with Draco is revealed. it's a very interesting turn of events that night his family learns of your secret relationship. it was the first time in Draco's life he had actually stood up against his father…

Draco is a good kisser. his kisses are deep and full of passion, and he likes to use his tongue. Draco is used to keeping his 'weak' emotion locked away, but it all comes pouring out when he kisses you; its desperate and needy. sometimes he whimpers if you kiss him back harder than he does you. it's a way for him to let himself go, and it leaves you breathless every time. he yearns for you and can hardly stand being away from you for long periods of time.

Some NSFW

Draco is a switch. he likes being in charge. it makes him feel good and like he's the most powerful man in the world to have you under him. and when he's taking the Dom role, he's never fair. he will tease you till you beg, and he won't give in until you've begged him properly for what you want. he uses his fingers to tease you, and he stays fully dressed until he feels like you've done enough to deserve to see him in his most vulnerable state of dress. when in control after teasing he likes to overstimulate you, telling you how much you need him and how nobody else but him can make you feel this way and makes you repeat his words over and over until you can't for a sentence anymore.

when he's taking the more sub role, he's a big baby. he whines and whimpers a lot, he's a bit of a brat and he will try and demand that you pleasure him. but it's hard to take him seriously with his lips bitten red, his cheeks flushed red, and his hair a ruffled mess. you mostly just coo at him and wipe his hair from his face before telling him "Only good boys get rewards" going back to torturing him. he loves being edged though in the moment he can't help but groan when you pull away from him again making him cry and whine about how unfair you are. he can dish the teasing, but he can't take it. but as much as he hates the teasing and edging in the moment the euphoria in the end reminds him why he loves it so much.

he's also a 11/10 munch. he loves going down on you both when he is and isn't playing the dominant role that night. however, the way he does it, does in fact change depending on his role that night. When he's the dominant that night he licks and sucks slowly. just barley letting you feel his lips on you before pulling away to watch you squirm. but when the roles are switched and he's in his sub mindset he's desperate and gets very messy with his movements. he's prepared to eat until his jaw locks or let you sit on his face until he almost suffocates. he doesn't care. just let him eat and call him a good boy.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.82)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. "You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Tags: Trans! Tae, Dysphoria, talks of jealousy and love, top surgery/boob jobs, medical talk, talk of weight gain, body insecurity, body dysmorphia, crack, attempts at humor boobs, fingering, mild dirty talk, voyeurism, Talks of depression, mention of seizures but no seizures today, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of marriage and wedding rings, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of past self-harm, mentions of ptsd, scars, this is the beach episode that all anime's have,

W/c: 20.6k

A/n: wow! this is the chapter that officially pushes us up and over the 1million words mark of this story! i hope that everyone has enjoyed the ride so far, it feels so satisfying to get to the end of tae's arc after all this time <3 i really enjoyed writing this even if it took me a bit longer to get here. please tell me what you think of it and if you like it lol.

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Summer comes, polishing its rusty claws.

It’s easy to feel daunted by the change in season, it always makes you feel like you’re running out of time. But change doesn’t always bring bad things. Scary Things? Sure. But alot of change is necessary, even if it's scary at first.

The date is June 1, and the change in weather is welcome. An early warm spell sends the pack scrambling to set up the outdoor furniture, cutting up watermelon after watermelon and strawberry over strawberry.

Jimin gifts Tae a new outdoor settee with a thick pink cushion and woven rattan back, dotted with swans and flowers. You and Tae tear through your sundress collection and keep your favorites on rotation. matching most days and color cordinating. You wear yellow on monday and pink on wednesday. Sometimes when Namjoon asks, you wear blue.

Hobi's sprouts come up on the windowsill and Yoongi makes him a set of four raised garden beds out front for green onions and parsley. the tomatoes that are green and small now will get a little out of control by the end of the summer.

Sort of like the roses. They heap over the rock wall. Wild and untamed and beautiful. Hobi can't bear the idea of cutting them back or even propping them up with a trellis.

But Picking the flowers for you and Tae however- that is something that Hobi can stomach.

Jungkook is perpetually empty from the nest from the hours of 6am to 9am. Intent on using as much sunlight as possible to take his ridiculous 12-mile runs. Sometimes when he feels like going slow, you go with him. He has this stupid dream of running a 5k with you (and you are unfortunately prone to indulging his stupid dreams). Even if he spends half of your morning walks teasing you for your slow pace.

You can only run like 50 feet without getting too out of breath to continue. But every day you go a little farther. Run a little longer. change is funny like that- it creeps up on you.

"Did Yoongi's mating mark make you like- more like a cat?"

"That's a really nice way of calling me lazy" you tease. Jungkook just grins. Both of your hands are sweaty and swinging between you. You have too many questions for him. “Why do you even like running anyway? Why do you want to run with me? Wouldn't it be faster if you went alone? You could run a marathon like tomorrow if you wanted.”

“Yeah, but it would be different if it was with you and I ran my first marathon when I was 20 before I even met Jimin and Tae. They're fun but only if you do it with a ton of people.” he looks down at your feet.

"When those wear out we should get matching sneakers."

"Can mine be pink?"

"Only if mine are purple."

"Deal."

When you do leave with Jungkook you always come home to Namjoon sitting on the front porch reclining in Tae's pink settee, reading and sipping his coffee. The curious chickadees twittering around you a gentle giant of a pack alpha.

Namjoon’s hair has started to go truly salt and pepper. Probably from the stress of the last year. You try to count them all one evening sprawled in the living room, spirited away playing on the TV, Namjoon on the floor sitting between your legs. He lets out a groan and tells you to stop when you get to 100.

“We could always dye it you know? You don’t need to go grey if you don’t want to. Jimin's pink for Christ's sake-” Jimin had perked up from the dining room chair, fresh dye dotting his hairline like the roses dot the rock wall outside. (And most of the windowsills since Hobi likes to pick the roses and bring them inside.)

"Yeah hyung, go pink with me! you're practically a blank canvas" Tae hums from behind Jimin, smiling down at him as she mixes a fresh bowl full of fuchsia.

Namjoon peers at the back of his head with the handheld mirror. He catches your love-struck look as you gently thread your fingers through his nape, your soft smile.

“No. It's okay.” He says. Contemplative. Even though you tell him that Tae dyes her hair so much that she has no idea when she’s going to go grey or if she’ll even ever really notice.

(Jin shaves Namjoon's hair later that week, going short for the heat and summer. And you and Jimin perpetually rub his spiky short hair, a bit obsessed with how sensory it is until he tells you to stop).

But this is how summer with the pack goes. Warm nights spent at your favorite spot and hamburgers and French fries. There are people to call, and things to orchestrate. Jin’s been going a little insane since quitting his job with the FBI, and the warm weather only makes him more prone to fussing. You hardly survived the post-heat spring cleaning.

More than once this spring Jin has demanded that Jungkook actually be hosed down outside after one of his runs turned him muddy and sweaty. Sometimes, Jin does the same with Hobi if he gets particularly grimy taming the garden. The veggies and the Roses. The walks and slow evenings. Life with the pack goes like this; a little lazy, a little busy chasing everyone around and keeping it together.

The garden grows. The sweet lemony lemony-smelling French doubles fill the yard with their scent and Red David Austins dot the fence in the corner like red stars. White fragrant French cups drape up and over the stone.

Hobi likes to pick them in the early morning, right as he has his first cup of coffee. Someone else is inside is getting you yours, or maybe you and Tae are changing for the pack's beach day. You both looked sleepy and draped all over each other when Hobi last saw you. Trailing after Jin who was already griping about the UV index as he and Tae led you in the direction of the dressing room to pick out your bikini for the day.

His careful fingers are mindful of thorns as he snips them free of the bush. A morning dove coos in the middle of the cul de sack, and Noodle meows from around his ankles guarding the alpha’s coffee (and occasionally sneaking sips. Especially if Hobi's used half and half). His baby blue cup rests in the grass slightly overgrown because Hobi is ever mindful of the pollinators.

He has a few blooms in his hands, mainly the pink ones. Hobi offers one to Noodle, crouching on creaky knees, letting the cat smell. Pushing his whiskers past the first row of petals. Purring loudly.

“What do you say Nu? Should we head inside and see if the girls like them?”

The door creaks and Hobi's coffee cup dangles from one pinky, empty. Three brightly colored beach bags wait by the door clogging the doorway and stopping Hobi from being able to open it all the way. They're piled high with towels, chip bags, and enough sunscreen to cover a small parking lot. Your and Tae's dresses are draped over the back of the couch, colorful and long patchwork spilling half onto the floor. A river of multi-colored floral squares.

Hobi can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what he’s watching.

You’re up on the counter and the bikini you wear is small, a bit too small. The red string at the back tied in a bow. One of Tae's hands tangle in it. Winding the red strand over her knuckles, back and forth between her fingers. Your bare back and your dimples are on display- distracting Hobi from what’s going on at your front. 

There’s just a lot of skin on display is all, and not much clothes. Hobi can handle it. Like a gentleman.  He restrains his imagination. Reminding himself that he's allowed to look, that he's not being creepy. But still- he's a little happy that Tae seems to be too busy whispering something to you from between your legs to notice Hobi's eyes trailing up your back.  

She's got one hand on your hip, digging into the alluring cleft where hip meets torso, the other concealed by your bodies.

You’d think he’d be used to it- you and Tae lounging around in little to nothing. Tae's gauzy collection of night dresses, or your spread of mini sleep shorts- but the mini bikini seems extra extra mini today. The thread-narrow straps and small red triangles do little to conceal your body and how it swells. 

Your milk had tapered off after the first few weeks of your heat but the swelling has been slow to go down.  That coupled with a little bit of post-heat indulgence and doting has left your body round and supple in a way that the alphas just devour. Hobi knows you've complained more than once about the newfound back aches and the new stretch marks and he sympathizes he really does but-

But fuck.

You sort of look like something off the cover of one of those vintage Playboy magazines that Tae pretends she likes for 'aesthetic reasons'. Not that Hobi judges. Hobi understands why tae's a little obsessed with them. Your chest is sort of a wet dream.

The whole pack is a lot obsessed with them.

Hobi thinks you're just kissing until You tip your head back and moan, and he almost trips over the corner of the carpet.

“Oh? You're-” Hobi's throat goes dry.

Tae picks her head up from where it was buried in your hair and laughs. Showing her canines, eyes bright and mischievous.

Her hand keeps moving between your thighs. When you try to close your legs, Tae's other hand grabs your knee and pushes them open. She does it like she hardly notices you squirming away or your sudden shyness.

Your scar shines silvery. Hobi hardly notices it. Eyes flicking down to it, to where tae grips your hip, fingers dimpling. Hardly catching the half-frantic glance you send over your shoulder at him. Caught.

Tae bites into the skin of your shoulder, so quick that Hobi almost misses it, directing your attention back to her with a jolt. It's a light correction, a playful one. There are other bruises and evidence of the pack's loving on your body too, a hickey under your jaw that hobi's pretty sure is from him. Others on the inside of your thighs from Jimin, And even more along the line of the bikini.

Jungkook has this funny habit of leaving bruises in the shape of a heart. Tilting his neck so that his hickeys make a pattern.

It's nothing Hobi hasn't seen before. This kind of thing is sort of routine for the pack. Yesterday he found Jungkook and Yoongi fucking in the sunroom, and the morning before that Hobi walked in on Jimin and Namjoon in the upstairs bathroom having some sort of staring match as Jin showered. Both of them hard and pretending they weren't.

And the day before that Tae had walked in on you and Hobi and Yoongi being…a little bit ridiculous on the front porch. Doing some all too public heavy petting that the pack alpha and pack omega would surely disapprove of if they found out.

It's not the first time Hobi has kept your secrets.

The last time Hobi saw Tae finger you, you were at the kitchen table (three mornings ago) but Hobi can't say it's not a welcome surprise. Your squirming is all you can do to keep the pack's pawing at bay when you're like this.

Tae grins, Drinking in Hobi's blush like it's strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t slow her pace at all. Two fingers or three? Her hand works in between your tights as you sag against her front, boneless. Giving in to the fact that you have an audience and Tae doesn't have any plans of stopping. Her wrist crooks to find the angle that makes your toes curl and Hobi sees it on your face the moment she finds that little spot that makes you clench extra hard.

Upstairs, Jungkook laughs loudly. Someone or something crashes into a door or a wall hard enough to make the windows in the kitchen rattle. Probably Jimin and Jungkook chasing each other around, zoomies that are sure to get worse when they get to the beach.

“Guys” Jin’s stressed tone sounds and Namjoon’s deep baritone says something in response. Too low to hear. Distracting the pack omega so that the pups can be pups. Who knows where Yoongi is, probably tightening down a screw or a loose nail or something.

Hobi smirks, kicking a hip up against the counter after refilling his coffee. Settling in to watch. The roses are forgotten about, discarded on the counter where they glimmer, going withy.

Hobi sips his coffee. Making eye contact with you over Tae's shoulder. And you blush furiously at the blatant way his eyes flicker from your face to your chest to between your legs.

"Do you-" you breathe heavily, cheek resting against Tae's arm, scrambling to paw at her hand when she crooks her fingers a little deeper, petting insistently in and in. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side, leaving a little trickle of slick on the counter. The dewy and delicious parts of you are hardly hidden by Tae's wrist. A delighted growl-pur builds in Hobi's chest at the sight.

"Do you have to watch?" Your voice goes breath as Tae changes the angle of her hand and you throw your head back, but Hobi doesn't even blink.

"I'm quite enjoying my view thank you very much." He teases. "a settling?" He asks, taking in your dazed expression and the way you cling to her.

"Hole check." Tae quips, her tone vaguely endeared, like Jin's hole checks aren't the pack's favorite form of entertainment when it comes to teasing you and keeping you settled. Hobi's seen you get them just about everywhere; in the shower, bent over the arm of the couch. Or jin's favorite- sprawled over his lap in the nest before bed, usually post knotting.

You hiccup and paw at her wrist, but she just keeps going.

Tae growls, deep and pleased. There must be something with her instincts today, something setting her on edge. Maybe it's just the sight of you in that itty bitty bikini, a size too small for your new healthy body that spills out around its edges. Fuck- girls are so-

Hobi's grip goes white-knuckled on his coffee, and Tae shifts to the side so that Hobi can see. You duck forward into her chest overwhelmed nuzzling the faint fat there. You want to suck. To keep something in your mouth to keep the moans at bay.

You’d woken up a little bit soft-minded, a little bit more laconic than usual. Yoongi wrapped around your shoulders and Jungkook nuzzling somewhere around your stomach. No one was too surprised that it had been hard to wake you up.

It’s no wonder that Tae- usually more prone to being riled up by you in omegspace, had taken the way you’d trailed after her as something of an invitation.

You’re not wearing one of your bikini no- Hobi is intimately familiar with those (on account of how much you’ve both used the upstairs hot tub this spring) this red one is Tae's. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but-

Tae's chest is not the same size as yours, especially not after your heat- whereas this bikini fits Tae perfectly- on you- it’s a little small.

Hobi can’t stop looking at your sternum, can't stop looking at you. the rest of the day is going to be torture. everything about you distracts him- the chub at the side of the red triangles, that freckle between your chest- all of it.

Tae grins at him like she knows and that's why she chose it, her cheek resting on the top of your head, smiling gently like she’s not knuckle deep in your pussy. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side darkening to a faint maroon.

Her hand keeps moving, nudging sweet little sounds from you. Her hands are glossy to the knuckle and you know you’re leaking onto the kitchen counter (not that it hasn’t seen worse) you bury your nose in her throat, and let out these little huffs, and tae's hand slips under the side of your bikini to feel the flutter of your heart.

or just feel you up a bit. Her squeezes are appreciative and surprisingly tender.

Ah, fuck.

Hobi crosses his arms and sips at his coffee. You make eye contact with him and then shy away, hiding your moans in Tae's shoulder. Tae's bikini is dotted with small flowers, white on top and pink on the bottom.

Her chestnut hair is extra curly- Hobi doesn’t know why she bothered with the rollers when any effort that she puts into her hair will be damaged by the salt water later but still. It spills over her shoulders in pretty waves. She’s still wearing a clip at the nape of her neck, Hobi darts forward to take it out as you let out high-pitched ‘ah- ah- ah's

“Yah guys! Not in the kitchen! We eat here.” Jin already has a healthy glob of sunscreen covering both his cheeks, depositing yet another beach bag by the front with a loud and uncermous thud as he catches sight of what you and tae and now hobi are doing in the kitchen.

You can tell by the brief glance you cast over Tae's shoulder that he was planning on hassling you to get some sunscreen on too, a task now forgotten.

Tae cocks an eyebrow at Jin, and her fingering goes a little stronger, she picks up one of your legs hips splaying wider, showng jin too. "Yeah? I eat here too."

Jin huffs, half laughing. Hobi snorts into his coffee. "You're unbelievable."

“Just one sec, she’s almost there.”

You hide your face in Tae's shoulder, blushing furiously at the casual way she says it, all but pawing at her. Your fingers dig into her arm, the delicate bracelets on her wrists jingle and she crooks her fingers right there.

“You’re just gonna stand there? Your bathing suit is still upstairs?”

Tae grins at Hobi, pressing her thumb against your clit in the way that makes you squeal. All but ignoring your predicament. Hobi knows you like it when your pleasure is treated as routine, as something casual. Hardly worth mentioning or acting up over. They could make you cum over breakfast and then in the car and it would just be taking care of you. they'd decide and you'd take it. 

“And what? Miss the show?”

Jin sighs and forces you to untuck your head from her shoulder. "you have until she cums before I make you go upstairs and change baby."

"But-"

"No buts." you bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. Eyes dazed and foggy, completely small underneath their attention. “Pretty little thing,” Jin comments, eyes dark. Tae's hips shift ever so slightly. Like she’s supremely aware of the pack omega so close behind her.  And Jin’s hand crests your knee and your ankle, holding you open so that Tae can continue.

“Close your eyes pup,” You moan through it, Jin spreading a generous layer of sunscreen on your cheeks as Tae's hand works, turning your bathing suit dewy, wet, and messy.

You whine, high-pitched quiet. Jimin trips over the carpet in the main room same as Hobi, eyes flicking from Tae's hands to you then back again. “Oh, I- oh”

Hobi takes another swallow of his coffee, "yeah, oh" Hobi watches Jimin's eyes flicker from your pussy, to the wet countertop below.

Jimin's been being…a bit weird about your slick since your heat. A little bit less likely to reach out to you, to touch you. Like he’s too mindful of his own desires (or of triggering an early rut, Jimin is sort of due for one just like Hobi- he can feel it, an itch under his skin sometimes that threatens to build). But still unable to stop the almost magnetic draw to you in the evenings when the night falls and the hours grow slow.

He hasn’t exactly been obsessed with your pussy since your heat, but to say there's have barely been a 2-day span where Jimin hasn’t sought you out would be true. There's hardly been an evening that he hasn’t folded himself close in the nest and shuffled up behind you. Needy and a bit hard already at just the thought of asking. It's hard to pretend like he hasn’t sat next to you at every available opportunity. That Jimin hasn't trailed behind you and Tae or closed the door to the library room when Tae decides she needs some 'personal reenactment' for a chapter in her book.

Hobi doesn't blame Jimin for being pussy whipped. Hell- all of them are a little obsessed with it. He's heard Namjoon and Jin talking about it, late at night when they think no one is awake.

"The doctor did say that we should be careful. About her slick and us alpha's."

"Do you think they could get like- dependant on it?"

"I think it's only an issue if the pup says it is." Jin had snorted, and the sound of lips connecting had slightly woken Hobi from sleep. Wet and messy kisses getting messier by the second.

"If Minnie wants help, he'll come to us."

Hobi sort of wonders if this is like that, if Tae is like that with you, either addicted or dependent on it and that's why she's fingering you on the kitchen counter. Watching as you paw at Tae's wrist as it starts to become too much, moaning against her throat as she stalwartly continues to rub up against the spongy part of you.

Hobi could tell you the exact moment that she tips you over the edge. Fingers reaching just a bit deeper in almost a petting motion. Hobi laughs, and your squirming goes a little overstimulated, trying to pull back, gripping Tae's wrist with a choked-off moan. But Tae won't stop until you actually start to tremble.

Your body seizes and then relaxes, and you cling to her, sighing, burying your face in her neck to hide from the others who shuffle around the kitchen. Yoongi barely pauses to dot a kiss on your forehead before he gets the cut-up watermelon out of the freezer and asks Jimin to carry the cooler up from the basement. The others continue to chatter.

"Did you grab the lemonade?"

"Yes!" Jungkook bounces around the kitchen, already with so much energy even though he's had no caffeine.

"And the liquid iv?"

"Yes hyung- yes, come on- the tide is changing and I wanna make sure we have high tide for body surfing-"

"Wait Yoongi- could you check the oil in Hobi's car-" 

"I checked it two days ago." Hobi puts his empty coffee cup in the sink.

"Before or after you and the pup took it out? I know how you drive baby."

That makes Hobi blush, it’s as gentle of a scolding as Jin is capable of giving, "Hyung-"

"Go change pup."

Hobi sighs and follows the pack omega's instructions. Tae keeps her fingers inside of you until you’ve had the chance to come down all the way, until your breathing has gone heavy and you blink up at her, feeling a little hazy. She grins and kisses you on the nose. She takes her fingers out with a faint squelch, wiping them on a kitchen towel before she gently puts your bikini back in place. You whine and squirm.

Namjoon comes down the stairs, nostrils flaring, looking up at you and Tae, you’re a bit debauched, but Jin continues rubbing sunscreen onto your cheeks, switching to Tae's after a second. “Are you guys ugh- ready to go?”

Tae shuffles away with a lazy grin. You blink at her like you're half surprised that she's left you alone on the counter. She asks for it, and Jimin hands her both of your dresses, she pulls her dress over her head and sets yours on the counter.

“Hold on, one sec,” Tae fixes your bikini bottom, putting it back in place before dropping to one knee. Your hand goes into her hair, tugging and blushing furiously as she does. Trying to pull her back up as the whole pack watches her press a kiss over your pussy lips, the wet fabric of your bottom clinging to them, showing everything. Every ridge and dip.

Tae doesn't lick or nibble. She just kisses your wet spot and pops up onto her feet with a grin, hair bouncing,

“There we go, ready!”

~-~

It’s an uncommonly hot day for June. The seagulls turn slowly in a circle, like one big mobile buffered by the gentle ocean breeze. Even the screaming children feel quiet, dampened by the sound of the ocean waves roaring.

You almost bump into Jungkook as he helps unload the car, a brightly colored beach bag under either arm. Shirt already off and looking drippy and boyish in the summer sunshine, romantic looking in a way that only Jungkook can gring. He grins, his tousled hair just so before he ducks down to peck your forehead and dance around you.

You sway in the sunlight like a reed before toppling back into the passenger seat.

Hobi leans low, hands balanced on the hot metal roof of the car. Eyeing you over the rim of his dark sunglasses. A little worried. The others dart around both of you. Getting the bags, the cooler, the umbrella from the cars.

“You okay?” He asks and you fiddle with the ribbon on your sunhat, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah,” you say after a second. You'd spent the whole car ride staring out the half-cracked window, eyelashes catching the wind. Hair going tangly until Tae leaned forward from the backseat to put it up for you in a claw clip.

The rendezvous earlier hadn't woken you up, not like they'd hoped, not at all. Hobi looks at you for another long moment before saying, “okay, I’m going to believe that until you tell me otherwise alright?”

“Alright.” You say, trying to convince yourself to smile. It’s easy when Hobi is looking at you like that. It's a nice day, you should enjoy it without worrying.

But the worry is hard to let go of.

Jin's endless chatter is the companion to your quiet. "Joonie- did we pack the watermelon? Did anyone see my SPF 70? Jungkook- do not run down the stairs, you remember what happened when you slipped and you skinned your knee? that goes the same for you too Hobi! Yoongi did you remember your sun top? Where did I put my sunglasses- thank you, baby.” Yoongi hands them over, dark hair glistening shiny, and healthy under the sun.

Tae wears a big pink sunhat and you wear a black one, sparing your shoulders from the sun, although they’ve been dotted and smeared with sunscreen too. Although the pack omega made each and every one of you line up for another layer of sunscreen and morning kisses before getting into the car you know today will leave you with tan lines no matter how many times Jin asks you to re-apply.

Especially when it comes to swimming.

The ocean hovers, stretching to the end of the world. The tide is still high but turning. A storm surge from a few days back has left even the waves aggressive at low tide. “Buddy system- Jungkook, you’re not allowed to go out on your-” Jungkook ignores Jin’s griping, dashing out into the hot sand. Jimin and Hobi and Tae hot on his heels.

The pack files down the steps, toting woven chairs and tasseled umbrellas, Yoongi’s face looks several shades lighter than normal from the sheer amount of sunscreen that he’s applied. He grumbles and hugs a big 2-gallon jug of water and lemon slices to his chest. But Jin is a professional. Each of them hold one fishing rod a peice, a small tackle box between the two of them is all that they need.

From the bottom of the steps, Namjoon waits.

He smiles up at you. You’re taking the steps slowly, one at a time in your squeaky plastic flip-flops hugging the big woven beach blanket to your chest. Jungkook Jimin and Hobi are already chasing each other across the sand, halfway to the ocean. You watch Jungkook dive, all but tackling Jimin up and over the dunes, Hobi valiantly comes to the other alpha’s rescue, but it’s no use, the three of them go rolling and tumbling. You can see the sand in Jungkook’s dark hair from here.

Namjoon smiles at you from the bottom steps, switching from holding the packs cooler with two hands to one, he offers you his hand wordlessly tugging the cooler behind him while you walk. Waiting for you to take off your flip-flops and hook them through his fingers so that you don't have to hold them.

Namjoon and you trail behind, the pack alpha going slow for you. Your hat nudges his shoulder. Yoongi and Jin walk a few paces ahead, bickering like an old married couple about the place you'll set up shop, matching rings on their fingers, bound between the two of them even if they’re both carrying too much. They still hold hands.

The rings are a new development, simple silver bands for the two of them, a tiny diamond on Jin's. You don’t know when it exactly started to come up in conversation (shortly after you'd drunkenly announced that you wanted to marry Tae maybe, although that was months ago at this point) but somewhere along the last 4 months, they've both started to wear them every day. One morning you’d woken up to Yoongi grumbling about ring sizes, that all the nitrogen from the day before was making his fingers feel too swollen for it.

You're hardly surprised.

They’re just testing it out, just making sure to see if they even like wearing them. Is it even a real marriage if they haven't filled out the paperwork and don't want to do anything like a ceremony? Does starting to wear rings even matter when Yoongi and Jin have already been semi-married in everything but paperwork for nearly all of their adult lives?

You’d known sort of from the beginning that Yoongi had always planned on marrying Jin, regardless of the mating mark. Maybe it would bother you more if you weren't fully planning on marrying Tae one day.

But with that you're going slow. Like today, you're in no rush.

Just like you plan on marrying Tae, just like you're sort of already mated to Hobi- regardless of the fact that you'll never bite him and he'll never be able to bite you. The feelings are still there.

You’d talked about it with Yoongi shortly after your heat. Alone, just the two of you cuddled up together late one night in the nesting pod after a bit of pack revelry. you can still hear everyone upstairs if you listen hard enough, spilling from the upstairs windows. The windows open to allow in a stray sun-warmed breeze. The weather shifting, the season changing and another summer is on its way.

"It feels like something I need to do before I finish the house. You know? Like it doesn't make sense to finish the house and not be married to Jin inside of it."

"This sort of feels like you're breaking up with me."

Yoongi had rushed to reassure you before he'd clocked your teasing expression. that really- you were just joking. he'd bent over you, and you'd put your foot flat to his stomach and pushed playful. A little tipsy, a little silly.

"Does that mean i can ask you out again if we're broken up?"

"Why don't you ask your husband first!"

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a full year since the pack moved in and yet, the empty champagne bottles on the floor linger gathering condensation. Tae had pushed you to celebrate it. The house is almost nearly complete too- there are only a dozen or so odd tasks that Yoongi has yet to do, picking a color for the exterior of the house being one of them.

They linger on the edge of his to-do list, so unimportant when it comes to the regular responsibilities of the pack beta. Like taking Jungkook to work, cooking dinner and doing the shopping, taking Noodle to his vet and grooming appointments, and picking Namjoon up after his night shifts (of which there are thankfully few).

And edit Tae's novel.

It’s almost complete but in need of serious serious review. She’d asked you first, but you’d read it, cried, and deemed it a complete masterpiece a welcome compliment but not exactly what she’d been looking for. Tae's sensitive heart cannot take much criticism, especially for something so close to her soul. But Yoongi and Jin are gentle enough.

Jimin, Namjoon, and Hobi had all asked to read it as well. And had whined and tried to barter when she told them that they'd need to wait to read the finished product.

You have a feeling that might have to do with the main character and the love interest. The love interest is a bit of all of them- although you confess you can’t read it without picturing Hobi or Jungkook in their slot.

But for today everything can wait. Editing books and chapters. Words and confessions. Everything can wait in the wake of a beach day. It's so rare that no one has to work, on a weekday no less. Jimin’s off from his bodyguarding, Jungkook doesn’t have another client or class scheduled until two days from now, and Namjoon’s next day of work isn’t until then either. You guess it’s just really you, Jin, Tae, and Yoongi who are regularly without anything to do these days.

Although that might be changing soon.

You’d submitted your application over a month ago, and yet, there has been nothing, no rejection or confirmation. No nothing. Although you’ve gone out and gotten the mail every morning without fail. Hobi is always reassuring you that there is still time, and that even if you don’t get in this cycle there’s always next semester.

Yeah, you’d taken his advice and applied for culinary school. You talk through it all the time, late at night on a drive, over lunch when you bring it to the flower shop after he forgets it at home again, after Jungkook's early morning walk/runs.

“As much as I hate to point it out but becoming a baker will mean that you’ll have to wake up like- really early every day. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You’d whined and flopped down into the nest on top of Hobi, shuffling to the side to get your body all aligned up against the pack omega. Still Half-asleep, glasses askew, Yoongi already carrying three cups of coffee up the stairs, steaming good.

“I know- I know," Although the rest of the pack defaults to being encouraging, Hobi is the only one who asks questions like this. "I don’t know if I’m like- so focused on the results or that I just want to go to school in general but-"

He'd grinned at you. "You want it too bad for it to matter."

"Yeah…I think I do. Even if I don't even like do anything with it after. It would be nice to like- understand why I can't make a fucking souffle."

"You're the shame of the regimen."

"What do your superiors do with you." (Tae made you watch Pride and Prejudice again a week ago and you've been quoting it back and forth since then.)

Wanting something enough to try for it is strange for you. It feels strange to have a dream after so many years of straight survival. But the pack isn’t really hurting for money these days, what with your old penthouse sold to the highest bidder and the dizzying sum put into stocks and bonds that pay out at regular intervals.

It's more than enough to make your taxes and utilities and even have a good bit left over at the end of every month. You're not really involved with it, Jin and Yoongi handled all of it. The sale, the business with the realtor, and property in Manhattan always goes for a lot, even with a burnt-up top floor.

It's a strange thing, but you honestly don’t even have to think about money anymore. No one in the pack does.

Although that’s not what’s making you quiet.

Your slowness right now has nothing to do with your and Tae's rendezvous earlier. If anything, you might be worse if it wasn't for her. You have that vaguely disgruntled look that Jimin gets when he's overstimulated today. Like your skin isn't fitting right, or your hair is pressing in from all sides. It's not overstimulation- not exactly.

Your thoughts are still somewhere too slow for summertime. Dripping and melting slowly like ice cream. By the time you get over the hill, Hobi is wearing Tae's sunhat and Jimin is holding her flip-flops. Jungkook is walking backward several paces in front of them. Saying something that makes Jimin throw one of Tae's flip-flops at him.

Jungkook takes it and runs. Tae's pink sunhat goes fluttering in the breeze and the three of them chase after him until they drop their towels and bags in a spot that Jin and Yoongi deem alright enough and continue their pell-mell puppy tumble to the ocean, Tae's pink flipflop nearly gets taken by the sea but Jungkook dives for it.

"Help me set up the umbrella?" Yoongi asks, touching your arm gently. You nod, happy to have some shade in the bleeding sunlight. You hold it still while Jin fluffs out the beach blanket and Namjoon sets up the chairs, and when you're finished and Namjoon sits in the camping chair, Jin and Yoongi meander their way towards the shoreline, still holding hands both of them covered to the wrist.

"They look like a pair of grandmas."

Namjoon looks up at Yoongi and Jin and grins, "Yeah they do."

You plop down on the blanket just next to him and Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you don't want a chair?"

"I'm sure."

Namjoon spends a long moment looking at you, but you're not paying attention to him. You watch Jimin spin Tae in the sea spray, her dress twirling with him, she holds around his neck until he puts her down, pulling her dress over her shoulders too. Jimin runs it back to your things, grinning at you and ducking low to kiss your forehead then Joonie’s mouth.

You still watch Tae, mouth a little turned down as you watch her. taking in the way her shoulders hunch, the way she looks down at her body and then up at Jimin.

Joonie makes a noise and Jimin ruffles his buzz cut before darting back to Tae with a giggle. you watch tae straighten up before he gets back over to her. The pack alpha shakes his head. Tae has crossed her arms over her chest, but she’s still smiling at Jimin.

Tae has always been better than you are at pretending that nothing is wrong.

The ocean is speckled with people, brightly colored swimsuits, and beachballs. You’re glad you came on a weekday because there aren't too many people here. It's not crowded. From a distance, the Ferris wheel turns slow and when you listen you can almost hear the Jingle of the carousel mixing with the screech of the gulls.

You know that later there will be fried dough and milkshakes up on the pier and a walk on the boardwalk later. You should be more excited for that, you love fried dough and you’ve been meaning to try and make your own for the longest time.

Jin is quick to call Jungkook and Jimin back for more sunscreen and to take off his clothes before he gets them wet. Really he's getting a little ridiculous with it. Jungkook and Jimin strip the rest of their clothes until there's little left beyond a tiny red Speedo.

It causes more than a few groans. Your mate looks away, laughs, then looks back.  "Jungkook-" "Really Koo-"

"What? I wanted to match the pup!" That actually gets a laugh out of you. You touch his knee and Jungkook smiles down at you, winks, and bounds off in the direction of Tae and Jimin. 

Tae looks gorgeous running through the water, her hair quickly during dark from the salt water. Both of them tug your mate into the water when he dares to come too close and it's seconds before Yoongi sinks a Jungkook-shaped necklace wrapped around his shoulders to pull him to sea. Yoongi puts up a valiant fight you can hear his "yah!" from here.

Jimin isn’t far behind. Getting more than a few looks as he wets his hair and flips in back. You find it hard to look at Jimin and Tae actually. Flustered. Hobi is already 50 feet down the beach, head lowered to look for things that have washed up. Headphones barely visible at this distance. You didn’t want to walk down the beach today with him, too tired.

And it’s so hot.

You sigh, Namjoon is already flipping through his book (fiction for a change- probably one of Tae's recommendations if you had to guess from the ballgown on the front.) You watch as Hobi becomes a dot on the horizon.

You sort of wish that you’d gone with him after a few minutes. You alternate between watching him become smaller and smaller, and watching Tae, Jungkook, and Jimin roughhouse in the water while Yoongi and Jin stand in knee-high waves, keeping an eye on them and talking. Still holding hands. Mostly just making sure nothing happens.

You know the pack is always worried, always just a little bit extra watchful of Jungkook on beach days. It’s always a risk, having him go out and swim. But someone's always nearby. If anything happened, if he started having a seizure, the rest of the pack wouldn’t be that far away. He's never had a seizure in the water before but it's always a risk. Jungkook doesn't act like he's nervous whatsoever, pushing off from the bottom when the big waves come and diving where they break, cutting through the water like it's effortless.

You feel a little too tired to share in their worry today.

The pack has picked up on it of course, that there is something wrong with you today. That something is turning you quiet and a little bit grumpy. There are only so many forehead kisses and reassurances that they you can give before you sort of have to come to them for help. Tae at least had tried this morning. And while you hadn’t not enjoyed your rendezvous…

Namjoon opens up the cooler. Offering you a piece of watermelon. You decline it.

“Do you want some water?”

“No Joonie.” You cover your feet with sand. Wiggling your bright red toes up through it before covering them again.

"How about an ice cream?”

You snort. “It’s not even noon.” You find a little pink shell in the sand, sun-bleached, and you balance it on Namjoon's knee. The pack alpha watches you line it up with others you find searching through the sand. You'll show Hobi when he gets back.

“I won't tell Jin if you don't, we could walk and get some for everyone?” he offers. Folding his book to the side. Index finger keeping his place.

“They’d melt and I’m still full of breakfast.” Hobi had made French toast this morning, sticky and yummy and melty with how good it was. Your lips are stuck in a pout, and you school your expression into something neutral the second you realize.

Namjoon gets barely another paragraph under his belt before he's trying again. “Are you sure you don’t want to join the others in the water?”

“No Joonie,” You nudge his novel with your elbow, “Read your book.”

“We could get you some lemonade or something else from the boardwalk? It’s kind of hot out you know, you should be careful of heatstroke.”

“Joonie-”

“Pup.”

Namjoon folds his book in half again, raising an eyebrow at you. You know he’s asking you to tell you what’s wrong without actually doing it. An invitation if ever there was one.

The cool ocean breeze tickles your forehead comforting. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re a little grumpy this morning, or do you want me to wait until noon until I start to actually try and cheer you up?”

"You are cheering me up."

A look at your phone tells you noon is about 40 minutes away, and the temptation to wallow is there but-

You pull up the hem of your long skirt. Green and yellow and embroidered, Tae got it for you special just for today, it was wrapped in gauzy paper this morning at the end of the settee in the dressing room. One for herself already hanging in your shared closet. You like matching with Tae- you always do, but-

She looked so good in hers, and you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t look the same on you- your legs too short and stubby, your arms, just a little too pudgy when you turn to the side. You don't pick yourself apart in the mirror nearly as bad as you used to. And it's stupid, because you know she probably thought the exact opposite about how it fit you. You’d seen it just briefly, the way that her eyes had fixated on your chest and then quickly looked away.

You don’t make Tae feel dysphoric often but you hate it when you do.

She'd noticed you noticing, and then in the best way she knew how she'd distracted you from your own feelings and let you know just how delectable she found you in your bikini and dragged you downstairs into the kitchen-

Ugh, today might be a good day if you could only get over it. You might be happy to spend it here, lounging with the pack alpha but it’s also a bad day too.

You kneed the sand with your feet. And Namjoon waits for you to speak, recognizing that you’re working through it. You bury your head in your knees, skin pressed to skin, holding around your calves tight.

"I thought I’d have more time, when the weather started to change and Tae and I started looking at bikinis. All of them were just so small and I’m so big now.”

“Pup, you’re perfect,” You can tell Namjoon means it.

“I know, I just want to feel more comfortable.” you say it like you don’t really believe it. Steamrolling past the pack alpha before he has a chance to argue with you. To pry. “I ordered a one-piece and I know that but-” you tug your knees to your chest, feet sandy, flipflops discarded. Pink. Tae's matching ones are a few sizes larger and not far, resting in the sand.

“But I also don’t want anyone to look at the scars on my back.”

A gull squawks and Jungkook giggles as he gets up on Jin's shoulders. tae is already perched on Jimin's, playing a game of chicken. An extra large wave hits them from the side and they both go tumbling. Laughing and falling into the salt water. Yoongi smiles from his spot with his fishing pole, screwing with his line and then Jin's, getting them set up. Namjoon drops his book to the side.

“Ah. So that’s what it is.”

“It doesn't bother me when you guys see them but-“

You look at the waves instead of at him. And you realize it honestly hadn’t occurred to him that that might be the reason why you’re nervous, why you’re off today. You hadn’t really realized it either, not until you caught Tae looking at them this morning and then Hobi.

You look at the ocean, and then back at Namjoon. He folds his book and puts it away. Beneath his big body, the beach chair creeks. You lay your head against the sun-bleached wood of the arm rest. His fingers naturally find themselves in your hairline, rubbing at your temple. You don’t know how he knew that you’ve got a headache but the relife is near instant.

“It’s not that I’m even that self-conscious of them.” You say after a moment. You don’t think about it at all when it’s just the pack when it’s just the eight of you. You don't feel nervous when you're walking around in a bra with Tae or in a bandeau and a pair of Jungkook’s sweats when he eventually badgers you into stretching in the sunroom. You never think about them when it's days like that.

“If anyone looks, I can tell them off for you.”

“No, you don’t need to, I just-” You watch a little kid and his friends toss a ball to each other, getting too close to the waves until it's swallowed by the seafoam, Jungkook is close to it. He gets it for them before it has a chance to get swept out for sea. They scream and crowd him. You get it- all little kids sort of love Jungkook.

“I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s you guys who did that to me, I don’t want anyone to look and wonder how it happened.”

You think of it, the scar, the sharpness of a knife, your face under Geumjae’s boot. It doesn’t bother you to remember it anymore. All the pain from it is so far away. But anger has a habit of sticking around.

“It doesn’t matter to me, if it matters to you, I understand, but I don’t care what strangers think about us, not anymore.” You feel warm at that, that the pack alpha doesn’t care about his reputation so long as you know who he is. The content of his heart and soul, or whatever.

“It matters to me just- I hate them, I hate having them.” You bury your hands in the sand to hide that they’re trembling and this time, when Namjoon passes you a slice of watermelon you take it from him.

"Come with me to get ice cream?"

"Did you only suggest it earlier because you wanted to get some?"

"Yeah," he admits, he gets up from the chair. Hand out, waiting.

You put your palm against his and he pulls you to your feet. "Okay, only if I can get mint chocolate."

His face goes sour, “pup-” you laugh and down the beach, Hobi picks his head up from looking down, pockets heavy with sea glass, listening to the sound of it on the wind and smiles.

Your hands stay like that, tangled together between the both of you. Now that you're talking about it, it's hard to stop.

“At first, I was so disgusted with myself that I’d let someone do that to me. You know I didn’t fight back until the end, not really, not until Yoongi.” Namjoon hums, and lets you vent. Let’s you talk it through as you walk up the steep steps. You know he knows all of this but you want to vent.

“I spent so long thinking I deserved it, wondering if I did, and trying to convince myself that I didn’t. I still don’t know if deserving has anything to do it. But after I stopped wondering, I just got angry.”

The sun beats down, burning the sand and bleaching the earth slowly, leaching the color out of everything, the seashells, Namjoon’s eyes, the grey strands in his hair. Everything. “I got angry at me, and then at him, and then at myself again because I couldn’t punish him.”

Your feet thump up onto the boardwalk, staccato. Namjoon pauses so you can put on your pink flip-flops. You know he doesn't want you to get splinters. “Do you still want to punish him?”

“No.”

You realize how true it is, you really, don't think you want revenge anymore. “I just want to let go of all of it and start again, I just want it to not matter anymore. I don’t care about it and I’m not ashamed of what he did to me because that’s his shame to bear now. Even though he's dead."

"But I still don’t how to let it go. I still have the scars. I don’t want to hold onto all this rage and grief and fear anymore. I woke up angry, and I'm trying to let go of it, that's why I'm grumpy.”

Namjoon’s voice is so deep, that it’s almost hard to hear over the crash of the waves. “I don’t know how you let go of it, I don’t know how to grow. Change is of course natural and you can't avoid it- but I think healing is different for each person. Some people just need love and care, and some people need a fire lit underneath them. I won’t sell you a false promise because I don’t know if it’s possible for everyone to heal. Brains aren't like bodies.”

Namjoon pauses, and he glances at you tentatively, like he’s not sure he’s supposed to say what he wants to. The second you clock the look you want to know what he’s thinking. He must guess it from your face because he soldiers on.

“But you’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it. you don't understand how rare it is, how special you are to have gone through so much and still be gentle. Your anger doesn't take that away. Not to me."

“Oh, uhm- thanks?”

"And I think if you weren’t healing, we’d know.” Namjoon still has the tacky feeling of sunscreen- probably from spreading it on Tae's shoulders. When he touches your cheek, tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. Eventually, you say,

“I don’t want anything about me to be violent anymore. I think I’ve earned it.”

“You have,” Namjoon says. You need it, the permission to be this way, permission to be peaceful after fighting for so long. There is no joy in this trying, there is no satisfaction in trying to get better if you can’t have peace.

So, what if life gets a little boring eventually? It's better than things being painful all the time. You have your coffee; you go to the beach with the people you love. What will the unblemished skin of your back feel like when the scars are gone?

You want to know. You realize it then, that you wish you didn't have them. That not having them would be easier. You want a new body, you want a new life, or maybe not a new one- But the same one just different, without all the pain and anguish and struggle.

When you look back at the pack, they’re nothing but dots among the ocean. Your heart pangs when you realize you can’t pick out Tae.

Namjoon squeezes your hand. “What are you worried about?”

“Tae's feeling dysphoric today, it’s kind of odd that we’re so in sync don't you think? I’m feeling like shit about my body and what’s been done to it, and she’s feeling like shit because hers won’t love her right.”

Namjoon tips his head. “I noticed. How do you think we could help?”

The pack alpha is asking you how to care for another member of your pack, and you wish you knew better how to say it. How to explain what tae needs. You feel so fragile today, you’re not sure you could help but- loving Tae is easy for you. Loving Tae has always felt like breathing.

“I don’t know. Probably just braid her hair and tell her she looks lovely. Support her. You’re good at doing that. You don’t need my help.”

Namjoon kicks at the boardwalk, “I wonder if it will ever not matter to her if she’ll ever truly reclaim her body and make it what she wants. Do you think she should stop trying? That she should stop wearing dresses, even if it never makes her feel the way she wants it to?”

“No, never, Tae should always try. I love her and I just want her to be okay.”

Namjoon takes your hand, turning it over tracing a scar on the back of your hand. It's a burn scar, one of the ones you gave yourself back when you wanted hurt because you didn’t know how to make everything stop hurting. It makes sense- in a recursive sort of way.

“Then I think you can try to let it go, and if it doesn’t work the first time or the second or the third you just try again. You can try, even if you think you’ll fail. If Tae deserves it then you deserve it too.”

“Sometimes all I want is a do-over, sometimes all I want is a new life. I've wasted so much time being sad-”

Namjoon drops your hand and then holds it out. Smiling brightly in that what that only the pack alpha can, dimples and all. His tone switches from serious to goofy so quick that it gives you whiplash “My name's Kim Namjoon, it's nice to meet you, what's yours?”

“Joonie.”

His eyes are teeming with mirth, the kind of goofiness that Namjoon only really has when he’s one-on-one. You won’t do him the disservice of thinking that he’s only this goofy with you. You know he acts this way with the others too.

But when it's all of you together Namjoon is always counting heads and bending down to tie loose shoelaces. He's not silly like this. He's your caretaker and your confidant, your pack alpha, and sort of your dad in the best kind of non-creepy way. You've learned alot from him over the last year, you've grown alot with him.

“I’m here with my pack, I think you’d really like them. Especially my girl, Tae.” He bumps his shoulder into yours and you giggle. He holds the door to the ice cream shop open for you with a faint jingle.

"Can I have your maraschino cherry?"

"Yeah. You can even eat the others too and I won't tell. I’m getting an extra sugar cone too."

"Deal." You don't end up getting mint ice cream at all, the strawberry gram cracker is too tempting for you. You're ladened with them when you're on your way back, the shop has these special little insulated cups to keep the ice cream cold, but it's still in danger of melting.

Namjoon is a little quieter, that might just be from the sheer amount of ice cream that both of you hold and the concentration it takes to avoid spilling it. You've got a strawberry milkshake for Tae, a peanut butter scoop and split for Jin, something with caramel for Yoongi that Namjoon thought he'd like, and fish-shaped samanco for Jimin and a chocolate covered banana for Jungkook. The whipped cream and cherries hardly make it off the boardwalk.

But you sense there's something more to it, that there is something more to Namjoon's quiet than simple concentration.

So, before you get back to the others you pause, sun beating down, ice-cream melting. "If you want to say something Joonie, just say it."

His eyes are heavy-lidded. "I know you doubt your progress, but you are getting better. I think with healing, it's either heal now, heal later, or heal never. And while I don't think you're wasting any time at all because healing isn't a waste, but-" Namjoon takes a deep breath, looking at you, unable to tear your eyes away,

"I'm really really glad you decided to heal now, because I get to spend a lot more time with you and I like spending time with you. I'll hash this out with you as many times as you need me too because I love you."

"Oh," you blink at him, at the sun, trying not to cry, pausing in the sand. Namjoon looks a little alarmed that you've stopped walking.

"The ice cream is melting."

You ignore him, you can’t pull him close because you’re holding too many ice creams. So you just demand "Come here." It takes a bit of juggling on his part but he leans down and kisses you. A bit of whipped cream ends up in the sand, but you'll just tell Jin that you ate his instead.

You already ate the cherry on top anyway.

"Oh! They're back!"

The pack is towling themselves off, with sandy bottoms and wet heads. You grin as Yoongi excitedly tells you that he's gotten 2 nibbles on his fishing rod, two! At this rate you'll be having fish for dinner. Even Jin has let himself be dunked, and you disseminate the ice cream to everyone with thank you side hugs and thank you kisses.

No one comments that all the cherries are missing.

Tae flops down next to you and then Jimin on the other side competing for the shade. "Oooh strawberry." "Can I try a spoonful of yours?" Jimin asks, then hums, eyeing it, "We can switch if you want Minnie." You offer before he can pout. "Oh, really? You don't care?" you shrug, you don't mind red bean. It sort of always reminds you of Yoongi and Jin since they like it so much. You trade back and forth and then.

"Hobi's back too!"

A smile stretches your face before you’ve even caught his scent in the air. When you look up Hobi has his hair held back by his sunglasses and his headphones are looped his neck. Pockets round and hands full, looking freckly already. "You didn't go far?"

"Yeah, got too hot" Hobi grins dropping to his knees on the beach blanket. "And besides I got a lot."

"Oh show!"

He dumps out his sea spoils while you lick ice cream off of your spoon and nibble at Jimin’s Samanco. Oohing and aahing over his chunks of glass and pretty shells. And he takes a nibble when you offer him one, but only a bite before he relents-

"It's so hot, I wanna go swim. You haven't been yet? Wanna come?" Your hands are sticky and your mouth goes dry. But before you can tell him no Namjoon is already taking off his shirt, jumping when Jungkook's hands get a little pinchy at the gentle chub around his waist. "Here, you can wear this-"

Oh, it's perfect. You take off your dress and you miss the heavy knowing glances between Jungkook and Jin and the hungry way Jimin's eyes flicker up from your waist to your face, the way that Tae can hardly look at you. Yoongi taps Jungkook on the shoulder when he reaches to squeeze and give you the same treatment Namjoon got, shaking his head imperceptibly. You have your back to it so you don't see.

You are this way; taken care of even when you are unaware of it and loved even when it is not seen. The pack knows that what you need today is not any more of that sort of attention. Tae gave you enough earlier. They watch, wink, and linger. Unseen by you. Does love matter any less if you don’t know it?

You put Namjoon's shirt on and it falls just below your hip. It's worn at the shoulders. A hole in the hem that Jimin hooks his finger into experimentally. Making a deep hum in his mouth around the sugar and sweet. The texture has passed your pickiest alpha's inspection. Perfect. No one asks why you feel the need to wear it or why Namjoon offers it up.

Jin immediately reaches for the tube of sunscreen and starts spreading it on Namjoon's shoulders, leaning against the pack alpha's back when he's done and resting his chin on the top of Namjoon's head.

Namjoon tilts his face up, pressing a quick kiss under Jin's jaw. Licking his lips and grimacing. "You taste like sunscreen hyung."

"I'm going to ignore that because when I'm fifty I'll be pretty and wrinkle and skin cancer free and you'll be even more grey." Namjoon turns, touches his hip fondly, and then glances to you.

“i'm sticky, I’ll come with.” Namjoon doesn't offer you the choice, he makes the decision for you and you're so thankful you don't know how to say it. You finish your ice creams and when Hobi takes your hand, you let him pull you up and into the water. You let him tug you until you're running the last few feet before you and the ocean collide. Cold, but just right, just what you need underneath the heat. Jungkook runs with you too, barreling through the waves.

Yoongi and Jin walk down to where there aren't many swimmers and more rocks, casting out their lines. Glimmering when they catch the light properly. Leures hurdling through the air to land with a plop.

The hem of Namjoon's shirt is just turning wet when he tells you. "You know, the human body and the sea have roughly the same salinity."

You don’t feel like that strong of a swimmer, at least not like Jungkook who cuts through the waves like it’s nothing. Like he's a part of the ocean, salinity or nothing. Namjoon is close behind, Hobi too, back to the waves, the red of his hair catching the sunlight. Tae comes in but goes back to the shore just as fast. Tossing her wet dark hair over her shoulder, ringing it out. And you know she’s probably going to want to do a hair mask later.  Jimin stands on the shore, watching you, waiting for Tae.

the sea foam glitters in the sun bobbing and tumbling, lost to the waves. A cold wave of water crashes against Namjoon’s back as he and Hobi lead you to deeper water until your feet just barely brush the bottom.

“Just kick pup. I've got you." You breathe, letting the water wash over you, ducking and closing your eyes, bracing yourself for it as it hits you. But Namjoon holds onto you so that when you rise up, you're still right next to him.

Something light and fast, silvery in the water slithers past you and you jump, clinging to him.

"Joonie! Joonie! Something slimy hit me! Namjoon!"

You cling to his shoulders and he laughs. His strong hand splays against your back. "It's just a fish!" Hobi calls.

"A fish! Where?" Jungkook dives, looking around under the water. Where did he even get goggles? You cling to Namjoon's front, his body warm in the cold water. "Do you wanna get out?" He asks, dimples curved.

"Yeah, just let me dunk." Namjoon holds onto you as you go under, keeping you steady. For a moment all you can feel is the pull of the ocean, the way that the tide is shifting, pulling you out to sea too. Namjoon's hands remain on your arm.

When you rise up there are fingers against your cheeks wiping away the water before it has a chance to get in your eyes. It's Hobi, holding you as you bob. You're so much shorter than them. They get to stand just before the break whereas you have to tread water.

They help you time it right but you manage to avoid getting tumbled by the next crashing wave and when you turn your back to the ocean, you spot them there.

Jimin and Tae stand by the edge of the ocean a good 20 feet from your umbrella. The roar of the waves is so loud that you can’t hear exactly what they’re saying. But you can see Tae's mouth move, the upset lilt to her smile that falters. The way Jimin’s lips are turned down as he says what he wants to say. Standing close the way that lovers do.

He says something then entwines their hands tentatively, like he’s not sure he should. His shoulders are already turning freckly under the sun, the same as Tae's. Like little bits of summer trapped there against their skin.

They have new freckles, you have new stretch marks, and Namjoon has new grey hairs. Your mouth turns down into a frown the longer you watch them.

You watch Jimin reach up and wipe at tae's cheek, watch it as he says something that makes her shoulders shake, that makes him pull her tight against his front.

Your white shirt speckled with sand. Still damp from the ocean water as you splash through the waves to get to them. Tae smiles at you before you get there, eyes glassy. She doesn't do anything to hide the fact that she's been crying just a little as you effortlessly fold yourself into her side Jimin's arm trapped under your ribs.

You watch her smile falter. She hasn't been crying too much, just a tear or two, And she leans down to peck your forehead. Her skin is hot to the touch. Warm.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, quiet and know, it's somewhat of a lie. Jimin looks from you to her, and you sense some special small conversation going on like whatever they were talking about before you came over has been touched on just by you being there.

Tae looks down at you, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No. Why?” Your hands go hard on her waist easily, because you hardly come up to Tae's sternum. You happen to know that she likes it when you grab her waist, but something that usually makes her squirm in a good way right now has no effect.

Maybe you respond too quick for her, because Tae looks at you under her lashes. “For this morning, did you-" did you not want it, did I misinterpret? Did I give you attention that you did not want? Would you tell me if I was loving you wrong?

Jimin squeezes her shoulder and you watch Tae brace herself for what you might say, “Tae,” you smile up at her, blushing just thinking about it, scent sweeting as you remember this morning. You can tell that both of them can smell it by the way that they straighten up and adjust their stance. Alphas.

"Tae I would have told you- I’m not- I’m not like that.” Anymore you don’t say.

Her dark hair is curling against her cheek, all of her salty and soggy. Tae looks like just wearing her bikini is making her ache. Like just standing here next to you is hurting. She sighs, Jimin loops his arms around her waist with you. His voice is deep and rough. “Tell her, you know she makes it better.” He mumbles the words against her shoulder.

“Minnie and I were talking about me getting a boob job. Since my boobs aren’t growing anymore, I've been at the max dose on my estrogen for like 3 months and there's still been no change."

You perk up a little at that, eyes bright. “Oh? That’s awesome, 10/10 should, totally agree.”

But the words don't soothe Tae, if anything, her shoulders just get closer to her ears as she hunches them making herself look and feel small. “But it’s expensive and it's like- not a necessary surgery like- it’s extra? Right? I can wear a push-up bra and inserts it’s not like-”

“Tae” you cut her off, and you can tell really this is what’s been bothering her. “Do you want it?” Tae looks down at you.

“Yes.”

“Would it make you feel better? Would it make you feel more girl?”

“Yes.”

You wipe away the wetness on her lash line with a thumb. “Then it’s not too much. What you need is never too much.”

"You wouldn't be like, nervous if I did?" You can tell that nervous isn't what she means.

"Maybe for your health but-" This isn't really helping, Tae is just getting more frustrated, her words failing her such a rare thing. You sigh, taking her hand in yours and you sense a little that none of this, none of Tae's anxiousness is about your approval. Not really.

She reaches down and fusses with her bikini and Jimin looks like he wants to say something. "What's got you so worried? Tae, what's wrong?"

Tae looks up at you and then back down. “But, I’m being so not a girls girl."

"Don't care, tell me."

"But are you sure?"

"Tae"

"Fuck pup, you look so good in yours and I just look- I feel gross. I feel all wrong and I look at you and sometimes it just- comparing myself to you isn't fair to you." Tae closes her eyes turning to Jimin, “Can I wear your shirt?”

Jimin has it off before she’s even really finished her sentence. His miles and miles of skin and muscles are even more alluring under the sun. His hair shimmers like it’s burnished gold underneath it too. Jimin is always sort of golden. He's always sort of stunning.

"I don't like feeling jealous of you. It doesn't feel good, it doesn't feel right. I’ve been mad at myself all morning for it" she tells you. And it sort of makes you want to laugh but in a good way.

“Tae, I’m jealous of you all the time.”

She looks up sharply, “really?”

“Yeah like, whenever you put your hair in rollers and you do the back perfect on the first try, or when you string words together or when you get out of bed and you put on your dresses and makeup like it’s nothing. I'm jealous of how much you want it. You make being a girl look effortless when it's given me nothing but trouble. And then I wander out of the nest room and I look like Adam Sandler half the time and you guys do a good job of pretending I look cute instead of like a gremlin.”

“You do look cute. You're a cute little gremlin.” Jimin says.

“You look like your sweaters are swallowing you.” Her tone is scandalized. Like she can't even believe you're saying that about yourself.

Jimin nods, “You just like being comfy like me. I like it when you're comfy especially when you wear Joonie’s worn clothing and it's like-” Jimin shivers happily and you laugh.

"That was like- so autistic of you Minnie."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like it when you say how you’re feeling that way I know you’re not having grumpy alpha time.”

“You don’t have to call it that.”

“Well, I could go with ‘Jimin looks so overstimulated he looks like he’s gonna punch someone’ time but 'grumpy alpha time' sounds cuter.” Jimin is looking awfully red, and you suspect it has nothing to do with a potential sunburn.

Tae shakes her head, still sort of angry with herself, This might be the closest you've ever gotten to a fight. “It’s not the same, it’s not the same as me being jealous of your body and wishing it was mine.”

“Isn’t it? I’m jealous of the rest of the pack, even the boy stuff sometimes, like- You want boobs but half the time I’m just wondering if my life would have been easier if I was born a boy omega like Jungkook. It’s not the same as you, because it’s not a gender thing but a safety thing. But I’m jealous of him too, you know I can’t even run one single mile and he goes like 5 every morning and he always has energy.”

Jimin snorts, “Everyone’s a little bit jealous of Jungkook.”

“And Jin,” Tae adds, casting a glance over to where they’re both standing, both looking absurdly model esc. They’re both unfairly pretty even for omegas. You always feel a little too grubby if you think about it too hard, but you’re getting over it. In the same way, Tae will eventually get over this too. Namjoon was right earlier when he said that healing takes time, it's going to take Tae a while to heal from being born in the wrong body.

“My point is, does my feeling jealous over it mean I love Jungkook any less? Does that mean I hate him at all?”

“No, you love Jungkook.”

You hold your hand up, splaying, letting the silence pause and the realization dawn on her. “Then why does you wanting my boobs mean you have to feel guilty about it?” Her expression slowly crumples, and she goes from looking nervous to feeling guilty.

she's quiet for a few breathes, and when it's clear to you she's not going to say anything, you fess up.

“I ate the cherry off your ice cream earlier just so you know. I don't feel guilty about it at all and I will do it again, just fyi.”

A laugh forces its way out of Jimin's mouth, and even Tae can't resist a smile and a roll of her eyes.

Obsession and infatuation. Jealousy and love. It’s always been a bit of a tangle with you three. With you, Jimin, and Tae.

Some omegas that are a little too young- probably still in high school glance in Jimin's direction. You do not pull him closer, just pout. But Jimin only has eyes for Tae, and the way his eyes flicker down to yours tells you there’s nothing to fear.

“Oh, we know.” Jimin grins, “I think the only one who was upset about it was Kookie.”

Jungkook bounds over as if summoned by his name, looking gorgeous shaggy-haired, muscled arms rippling. “What are you guys talking about?”

“How jealous we are of you,” you say before Jimin or tae have the chance to. Tae blanches a little like she expects jungkook to be upset but Koo just shrugs.

“Big wop." He tugs on the hem of Joonie’s shirt. Almost pulling you off balance. "I wanna go body surfing again but Hyung’s say I can’t go alone- come with me?” He wraps his arms around your shoulders, dragging the last syllable and batting his eyes. It's too hard to say no to him.

You glance at Tae one final time and she sighs at you. Nods. “I’ll be alright. I just need to think more."

Bodysurfing turns out to be the most fun you've had in months, weeks, years maybe. Jungkook shows you how to do it. One second you feel like you're going to be tumbled in the wave and the next you're hurtling not through the ocean but over it. sliding across the water all the way from where they crash to the shore. Giggling and bubbling in the salt water. hair hanging lank over your face all messy.

“Did you see me!? i was going so fast!” You cry happily, picking yourself up off the wet sand, you'll probably have sand in unmentionable places later but you don't care. Yoongi is standing on his own.

Jin has disappeared somewhere no longer yoongi's shadow. both of their poles sit tip up in the sand. You hardly wait for him to respond before you're back in the water. Dashing back to where the waves are breaking.

“I did but! Be careful!”

The rest of the day passes like that. You walk down the beach with Hobi and find handfuls and handfuls of sea glass. You suntan with Tae (it's more just lounging) and ask Namjoon to read you snippets of his book while Hobi and Jungkook play volleyball. You go to the tide pools after, because Joonie wants to look for crabs.

It doesn't end all that well. It ends with your bloody finger, a fat seagull who is amazingly adept at snatching crabs out of thin air with a full belly thanks to you.

You swear you didn't mean to fling it, it just surprised you. You tell Namjoon as much as he sniffles and wraps a band-aid around your finger. Pierced through by a crab claw (it's nothing more than a paper cut). "I didn't mean to kill it, promise it just startled me."

The rest of the pack contains their snickers. And Namjoon's sniffles reignite. "It's fine, it's okay, it was a big crab anyway probably at the end of it's lifespan." 

Jin disappears, but when he comes back, he's toting several pizza boxes and a liter of soda. Jungkook shows you how to feed your crusts to the seagulls without them biting your fingers. And Jin also brings back a big big bowl of maraschino cherries from the same ice cream parlor as earlier. Red and bright like mini suns.

"I had a feeling you might want more." he teases, but you don't respond with anything more than "I do!"

Jin makes everyone grab one first, but after, he lets you have the rest.

~-~

At home, Tae gently lifts Namjoon's shirt over your head, the house is so noisy- as it often is whenever the whole pack is moving about, in the kitchen Jin and Yoongi are fixing dinner, still in their own perfect little bubble. Two fish already filleted in the sink.

Jungkook is half slumped against the wall, already in the shower. Turning wetter and wetter under the spray, groaning low, “god I love the sting when hot water hits my sunburn.” jimin pinches at that sunburn. there's alot of that going on, pinching.

“You’re such a fucking masochist.”

“Shut up”, he says with a smile. “I've never spanked you before.” He licks his lips, “soon.”

Tae huffs and pulls herself over to him, sudzing up his hair. Jungkook is the only one truly nude. Tae is still wearing her bottoms and so is minnie. You linger. Still in your bikini, a little resistant to getting wet again but working up to it. Jungkook goes to give her tan lines a pinch and you watch her brace herself.

You grab his hands before he has the option too. Your shower with them isn't sexual. Not this one. Not when you're all so sun tired from the day you had at the beach. You're gonna sleep so well later, your whole body aches from body surfing and you have a scrape on your hip that namjoon had frowned at earlier but you don't even care you had so much fun today.

your hands tangle with Jungkook's, "Be careful with her, she's delicate."

"Why? What's going on?" he glances from you to her.

“Tae wants to get a boob job and She's feeling sensitive about her body today,” Tae says nothing, looking from you to Jungkook, measuring his response.

"Oh? Sweet. thanks for letting me know." Tae makes an affronted noise in her throat.

You talk. Back and forth about it. “Are you sure you don’t just like- want it for us? Cuz dang I love boobs-" It’s a fair question, even if it does come off wrong. tae doesn't take it personally, shaking her head.

"It's not like that, i'm just tired of waking up in the morning and not having them, i just- i want to be done with the dysphoria. it's such a pain feeling like this all the time, but what if i like- don't like them? what if thats not going to fix it? and boob jobs are like- so expensive too." Jimin hardly responds with more than a hum. He's been a little bit less verbal than usual since you got home- but no one comments on it, no one prods him to speak.

Namjoon steps into the bathroom, hips swiveling. It's absurdly attractive- the way that Namjoon moves in his body. Leaning down to take off his bathing suit, he's got sand in them, but you don't mind because you also have sand in your bottoms too.

“82 percent of women express satisfaction with their boob job. I looked it up.”

Tae looks surprised then stricken, “you did?”

“Yeah, I wanted to know in case you ever asked for it.” Tae goes quiet, looking at Namjoon over your shoulder. You can feel the string of your bikini digging into your skin. The slight chub under your arms and around your middle. The place where you go soft. You reach behind your back, undoing it. jimin beats you too it, pulling at the string.

"i've got it."

“Oh Joonie- you’ve got tan lines.” He almost trips when he looks up and sees you topless, actually does stumble. He does have tan lines, rimming his hips, cutting across his hip bones. Tae giggles and traces along them. (If Namjoon's cock jumps a little at the touch, no one hassles him for it, you're all too sun tired for sex).

"Are you asking for it? A boob job? Is that something you want?"

"Yes."

“Oh!” Namjoon's eyebrows shoot up, and he glances from her face down to her chest, and then your face down to yours. Going red from ear to ear like he's imagining it. Namjoon scratches at the back of his head, you can hear the sand flop onto the tile floor. Tae takes your bikini and hangs it over the glass door where it drips. Namjoon clears his throat and Tae looks at him.

“Do you want me to make you an appointment on the same day as the pups?"

“What? Are you planning on getting a boob job too?” Tae cups your chest in her hands, and it’s not necessarily sexual, not even when you wrap your arms around her neck. and tug her close enough that your chests squish together.

“No, not that just-” You peck her lips, and she’s already starting to smell better.

“Just the scars, I want them gone. I got all in my head about it and Joonie helped me earlier.”

“Really?” Tae says, glancing from Namjoon to Jimin to Jungkook to you. the boys look a little dazed, a little love-struck as you reach for her bikini straps and paw at them. Namjoon takes it when you hand it to him and hangs it over the glass next to yours. You like it when it's like this, your warm body pressed to her body.

“Yeah- I got all in my head about it too.”

“Our boys are kind of good at fixing that, aren’t they?” You giggle and start to suds her up. Namjoon and Jimin grumble at the teasing, but join in.

~-~

Everything moves fairly quickly for Tae.

Maybe it only happens so fast because having a doctor for a pack alpha makes shit get done, or because Namjoon and Jin have sort of been planning for this for the last few months. It's been in their back pocket and they've been making measurements and taking down names of good doctors since just after Tae came out.

They’re funny like that. Always planning how to make sure the pack has everything they need. Everything that they could possibly want.

It's like that with your scars too.

The pack all insist on coming for her consultation. The room is full, Jungkook has to sit on Yoongi's lap because there isn't a seat for him. You and Tae are knit close together and you stubbornly refuse to let go of her hand with Jimin on the other side.

It had gone well, well enough that Tae had looked up at the doctor, a kind omegan woman in her 50s. All ready with pre-release forms and the final quote. She comes highly recommended, Namjoon even looked over her case files and gave her his stamp of approval.

She specializes in reconstructive surgery, and for some reason, Tae likes that. She likes the idea that she's not adding but restoring her body to what it should be. What it should have been in the first place.

(Tae doesn't believe in God, not anymore. But a small voice whispers in her head about it. About divinity and mistakes. People say God doesn't make mistakes, but if we are made in God's image, then God must also have an awkward phase. She must also make her mistakes; like cancer in children and what happened to you. Like Jungkook's seizures and women like Tae. It's okay to revise a little. To scribble out and rewrite the lines.)

“You mean I don’t have to like, prove it?”

The pack had gone still at the question, scents anxious and stressed, your hand on hers tighter. Readying yourself to whisk her out of here if the answer isn't to your standards.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Just getting here is enough. And besides, I believe you.”

I believe you. It’s strange how 3 words can make you feel so much. Can have such an effect on you. There is a lump in Tae's throat just thinking about it. It's on repeat in her head over and over again, I believe you, I believe you, I believe you. In this moment I exist, in this moment I am believed.

it's silly, because the pack has always believed Tae. she's had proof of that belief in the little things like the omega's putting more pink in the nest and how Yoongi made tae a whole dressing room, and the new pink plates in the kitchen. Your endless trying with her, even when you were too tired to try with everything else. Everything in the house is pink because it's Tae's favorite color. Everything is pink because it makes her happy.

But it feels different to hear it from someone new. Tae doesn’t have to talk about the dysphoria if she doesn’t want to to this doctor. She doesn't have to talk about it at all. About passing and expectations.

She only talks about it with you, only with your heads close under a big sheet. A pillow fort just for two. The light of mid-morning, or the Christmas lights above blocked out. Counting down the days with lipstick in the corner of the vanity mirror. 21 days. 17. 11.

9 days to go for her, and only 2 days to go for you.

There has been a new addition to your vanity too. Pretty delicate packages. Rose-scented tissue paper and golden ribbons, Chanel and Versace and even something called la Perla that you are incredibly unfamiliar with.

Tae always blushes and pushes them into the back of her closet, but not before taking them out of their packages.

The lingerie is Pastel pink, Deep purple, buttery orange, delicate white lace, something almost bridal. Every single color of the rainbow and then some. She's gotten one set every day since the beach day, she's pretty sure Jimin ordered the first one on the drive home.

“Jiminie- you don’t have to spend all of your money on me, and I don't even know what size I'm going to be yet. I know you don’t make as much now, it’s alright, I don’t need all of this." You’d simply clicked your tongue and leveled Tae with a look that was not to be debated or questioned.

“He’s not spending all of his money; he’s spending all of my money. And a bit of Namjoon’s. and Yoongi actually got you that one, not Jimin. I helped him pick it out. ” Yoongi's choice is so feminine it almost makes Tae cry. Pink ribbons and yellow ruffles. Matching garters and buttery soft stockings.

You've never minded being frivolous if it means making Tae happy, making Tae happy is a priceless expense. Paying for her top surgery had been a no-brainer, not something you even had to think twice about or discuss with Yoongi in any overt terms. Like the expenses for the house that come out of the account that you and Yoongi share, the account that receives the dividends from your stocks.

Huh, stocks. You never thought you'd have those.

By halfway through the month, you’re sitting in the upstairs dressing room with Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi draped across each other and the settee in the corner by the window and the door that leads to the deck outside.

There's so much weight on the settee that the legs creek. A very large tray with Jelly silicone implants sit on the vanity. They're only samples. Tae has to return them after she decides. 

Tae is having trouble choosing. Naturally- the pack put in their two cents. It's easy to be casual about it, to talk about C cups and D cups and even double D cups.

But what started out as trying to help her decide exactly which tits to get has turned into everyone getting drunk and dumb. Has turned into the boys trying on those bras and putting the implants inside. The general ridiculousness in the room might have something to do with the 5 (yes 5) bottles of fancier-than-normal champagne discarded and empty around the room.

Namjoon puts a stop to it when Jungkook throws the largest one and hits Hobi square in the stomach. The resounding 'thwap' is almost loud enough that it makes you flinch.

“Wait, are these the ones that are modeled after yours?” Jungkook asks, Yoongi says something into your ear that makes you flush and giggle, and when Hobi tries to come close onto the settee you put your socked foot against his chest and push.

Hobi catches your ankle and fiddles with your sock, thigh high, white, knit. sliding his hand up your calf and tickling under your knee. "It's hard to believe they're like that big"

"Imagine how I feel Jungkook, it feels like carrying around mellons not lemons."

Jungkook scoots to the edge of the settee, "let me try them on." It’s stupid and you feel like a bunch of boys playing with water balloons but Tae doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, she's more comfortable when you're goofy about it. You're just deciding what tit's she's going to have for the rest of her life, no big deal. It's no big deal at all.

Tae is sort of freaking out about it, which is why you're drinking and trying to get her to lighten up. Emphasis on trying.

Tae had asked for implants that would give her a similar side profile and cleavage to yours. But truthfully, after she tried them on… she's going to go with something just ever so slightly smaller and more conical.

You honestly didn’t know there were so many different types of implants or so many different shapes and feels. But this choice matters. She’ll only choose this once so she wants to make the right choice.

The ones your size simply hadn’t looked right when it came to her shoulders- made her look too wide up top.

There's one pair, your pick, that looks a little bit more perky than the ones she initially wanted to go with. And while you understand wanting a natural result…

The horny side of you is sort of winning out. But you are 4 glasses of champagne deep, your judgment is a little impaired.

“We can do back exercises! So that you won’t get rounded shoulders!” Jungkook had excitedly commented when Tae had confessed she was just a little bit worried about how much the ones modeled after yours might weigh on her back.

By midnight, the champagne is gone and Seokjin is mostly asleep. Asleep enough that Jimin’s attention is divided. Earlier there was a moment, Tae wearing them and the lingerie, standing between Jimin’s legs, his arms around her waist, eye level with the implants shoved into one of those bra’s. “Go on tell me they’re too big.”

Jimin had hummed, looking down at them then up at Tae, “will they make you happy?”

“Yes but-”

“Tae, will they make you happy? Yes or no?”

Shifting from foot to foot, eyes flicking down to them, then to the mirror. “Yes but-“

“No buts” he’d said, which had led to you and Jungkook doing a chorus of “butts butts butts!” Sing a song and ridiculous.

Namjoon did try and twerk. Emphasis on try.

“Should we take a vote?”

“It feels like we should take a vote.”

“Okay, but the pup gets two because she actually knows what it’s like to have big boobs.”

You do, your votes written out on scraps of that rose-scented tissue paper. “Jungkook- don’t you dare put down the big ones.”

“But then they’ll match-”

It feels good to do it this way. To help her make a choice that would probably make Tae's head spin, cry, and melt down over choosing the right one. She got close to having a melt down earlier but It's all goofy and silly and light like this. Maybe even the hard things are easy if you're doing them with the right people.

Tomorrow they’ll order the implants, and on Friday Tae will have to get up very very early. She will not eat breakfast, will be driven to the hospital by Jin and Namjoon, and Jimin. You’ll tag along for moral support with Yoongi in a separate car and Hobi and Jungkook will follow later because there’s no real reason why she’ll need all of you there.

The surgery will take Tae around 3 hours, by mid-day she’ll be in post-op and by evening she’ll be home. You get the ground floor bedroom all set up because Tae will be too dizzy to manage the stairs. A bright pink nest with a minimal border so that Tae can get in and out without straining her abdominal muscles too much.

You know to expect bruising, to expect her to be out of it from the anesthesia first and then the drugs. Namjoon will be the only one to sleep in the nest with Tae, although Jin won’t be far and Jimin will eventually decide to sleep on the floor around midnight. Just to make sure she doesn't have to get up for anything.

You'll be buzzing up and down the steps several times through the night to check on Tae, everyone else will too. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are going to go to the store tomorrow to get some recovery foods to help her heal faster.

You put your slips of paper, your votes into the largest bra that Jimin's gifted Tae. You get your two votes, and everyone else gets one. Yoongi cranes his neck to see what you're writing downand you shove at his shoulder playfully.

"No peaking!”

~-~

The pleather gurney is cold beneath your knees as you gently lift yourself onto it, trying not to be nervous. Trying not to be afraid as you lie on your stomach. A breeze makes you shiver through the open back of your hospital gown, bare underneath.

You're cold everywhere, although the numbing cream has already taken effect, carefully smeared over the sensitive scared skin of your lower back by Yoongi. As gentle as ever, rough fingertips rub over skin that will burn in just a few minutes.

He wears stupid small glasses to the side now, designed to block out the light from the laser that will scrape away your scar tissue. He wears lemon yellow ones whereas Jin wears black, and to your side, Namjoon wears red ones- all to protect them as they watch over you. You'd had a good moment of laughter earlier when you'd realized just how ridiculous it made them all look. But any levity in the situation has dissipated now.

Now, you're just nervous.

“It will probably take more than one session to see the results you want, but complete and total removal is definitely possible if you're good with your aftercare.”

The doctor had warned you before you’d started, "she will be. We'll make sure of it" Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had all promised. And you believe them, there is scar cream and a special oil and even a compression vest for later, similar to the one that Tae will wear for her surgery in 4 days' time.

You’ve spent sleepless night after sleepless night talking through it with Namjoon, with Yoongi, with Jin. They’ve all been supportive. It’s all happened relatively quickly- same as Tae's surgery. The second that you’d given Namjoon and Jin the all-clear that you wanted to go through with the plastic surgery to reduce the appearance of the scar on your back they’d expedited the process and gotten you in contact with a world-renowned plastic surgeon who works at Namjoon’s hospital.

He's not the same plastic surgeon working on Tae, no- this one is a specialist in scars, in burns, in places that have been kissed by pain in a way that no skin should ever be. You think he might understand it. The way that you tremble when you get onto the gurney. He's seen the scars, had seen them during the consultation. He had asked very very politely and as gently as possible Whether they were 'situational' wounds or self-inflicted. 

"I've been married- Widowed actually." Had been your only reply.

The doctor hadn't looked at your face, gloved fingers testing the skin around the scar to see how much it stretched. You felt a little weird about having your back end bare to another man, but with Namjoon there and Yoongi and Hobi too, it had felt a lot less nerve-wracking. You can tell from the flex of his jaw that Yoongi is about to step in when the doctor says one word. after a moment. After he's pieced together what you're implying.

"Good."

Good. This is a good thing; this is a thing that you want to do. The wrath might never leave you; you might never stop being angry about what was done to you. But you can at least keep it from your body and let the pain become a memory and not an imprint. You will not let your body become a place of pain again. All scars are temporary, you're just expediting the process.

Heal now, heal later, or heal never.

You’d woken up this morning with Hobi and Jungkook blanketing you on either side, Tae's long-manicured fingers scratching at your scalp. Stomach uncomfortably empty for a change because they’d told you to fast before your procedure. Bot that you’ll need to go under general anesthesia like Tae. But sometimes laser therapy can make people get sick.

You’d woken to the sound of them taking through it. Something like “I’m going to get her a cake anyway.”

“You should make her one Hobi, you know she likes it when things are homemade."

The hum of your best friend against your front had felt like the ripple of a river. Hobi's deep voice- the one that only comes out after he’s been in deep sleep for a while is always so soothing. “I guess I made you that boob cake with her didn’t I huh-"

They say something to each other, softer, laughter petering off. trying to be quiet and let you sleep but sort of failing. The sound of slow kissing joins the coo of mourning doves and Jungkook feeding Noodle downstairs. He's come back from his run early to make sure he can see you off.

“We can both- yeah?”

You’d been happy to doze until Yoongi’s hand had joined Tae's on your cheek, slowly picking you up off of Hobi's shoulder. Tucking your messy hair away from your face.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but it’s time.”

You’d fussed only a little. Only the pre-requisite amount to get a bit of babying (a necessary medicine, as important as the numbing cream) before allowing Tae and Yoongi to pull you out of the nest. putting on loose clothing that can easily be taken off and put back on.

You wanted to get this done before Tae and her top surgery and you want to meet the new version of her with the new version of you. It feels good that both of you are going through this change, this healing together.

Next week. Next week Tae will have boobs, next week she'll look whole and beautiful and so so pretty. She'll look exactly as she wants to look and you can hardly wait to see. To meet that version of her as the new version of you.

You still haven’t decided if there are any other scars on your body that you’d like to get rid of. Maybe the one under your chin- that's the only one that's so visible or as the one on your lower back. Or maybe the ones on the inside of your thighs. Those are so faint, too faint to matter. Too faint to hurt in a way that’s not purely psychological. Not like your back that you can feel when you turn wrong.

Your heart is in your throat as Namjoon helps you onto the gurney, wearing surgical gloves. The doctor behind him already has black-out goggles on his head. There is a pair that Namjoon hands you for you to wear. Jin and Yoongi stand back, wedding rings catching the light. Jimin is a faint presence outside the door, a shadow looming, protective instead of threatening.

“It’s going to smell pretty horrible, but the lidocaine should block most of the pain."

Namjoon does the honors of unlooping the back of your surgical gown and revealing your scars for the last time.

Worthless. But not for long. Worthless once, but not anymore.

You nod, “Okay.” You hear the clatter of the plastic machine against each the floor. The roll of the wheels on the linoleum as they wheel the machine over to you. Two technicians adjust it and the doctor clicks away at the computer before he grabs the wand and fiddles with the settings.

“The first pulse is going to come in just a second. I'll count down to three.  Are you ready?” You nod and try to relax, untensing your muscles and your body.

This pain, you can handle. This pain, you welcome.

Namjoon’s hold on your hand tightens, the doctor counts, and the light flashes.

~-~

Tae will also have scars. But not like yours. Not like stitches. They'll be like growing pains and stretch marks. Like her heart making room.

The surgeon has done a good job, but when Namjoon unwraps her gauze. You see the bloody stitches and whine. 50 of them under the edge of her generous curve, small nipples also taped over still. There's a fair amount of swelling- making them look larger but-

Yoongi's hands slip on the mirror as he holds it up for Tae, holding it at a tilt so that Tae can see. It's the next morning after her surgery, and you blink as you look at them. behind you, hobi bites on one nuckle.

“Oh my god.”

Jimin's face is flaming. He looks at the ceeling. "That bad?" tae slurs, head tipping limply to one side, her eyelashes fluttering, "Why are you all looking at me like that? How are my lemons?"

"Delicious." you say, at the same moment Jimin says, "breathtaking."

"I don't want anyone to juice them, they're mine, my lemons" tae pouts. Hobi holds his mouth trying not to laugh as yoongi chuckles. jin whipes her hair back from her sweaty forhead.

"Oh my god you are so high."

“No one can touch them.” Namjoon warns, looking at everyone in warning. "Promise me. No pawing. You cannot touch them when you're not sterile."

You let out an upset whine, “Joonie, just a kiss” Tae smiles from the bed, gently, tired. She's barely awake. It's the same bed that you and Yoongi used to share, this used to be your bedroom before you moved upstairs.

“Pup, It's non-negotiable” You pull up the straps on her billowing night dress and cuddle up next to her, sniffling and peaking at them while he wipes them down gently with gauze. Tae can't feel anything through the painkillers, but Namjoon's wipe comes away rusty and red.

You rest your head against her shoulder where bruises spread like ink as Namjoon works to clean them and her. The smell of blood doesn't bother you. You tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and Tae murmurs quietly- eyes still closed that she could use some skincare.

Doing it for her is a reverent act, rubbing it across her cheek the bridge of her nose. When she remembers to open her eyes, she smiles dopily.

“Drugs are so so goooooood.” the pack laughs, yours jiggles the bed and Hobi shakes his head from the doorway. Tae furrows her eyebrows at Jimin.

"You're so pretty."

"I know, you were saying that in the car." Jimin is ever patient with her.

"Do you wanna like, be my boyfriend or something? I feel like we should kiss."

"Tae, we've been dating for twelve years."

"Oh! nice, I should tell Jimin."

"I am Jimin."

"No you're not. Your name's noodle cuz you're little." Jimin sighs trying to keep his smile at bay.

jin kicks hobi and jungkook out of the room for laughing too loudly and you shuffle closer to her. barely keeping your laughter hidden.

You kiss her cheek, the apple of it where her skin goes round and full and pink. “I’m sure the drugs feel amazing.” Your voice goes husky as you look at her, and when her hand tangles with yours. You notice that her nails have gone chipped. you'll fix that for her later.

Tae flutters in and out of consciousness for the first-day post-op. By noon- most of the good drugs have worn off. Movement means pain, but there is always someone there to help her move, change her clothes, or help her to the bathroom (even if that part is significantly unglamorous). Noodle rests in the crook of her knee, purring loudly.

There is cool water directed to her lips, guiding her to sip, then a soft kiss. When she asks for a pen and paper the pack calembour gives it to her. To brush her hair, to pat her skin dry, to praise her, and tell her how well she did. Apparently, she was a stellar patient. She's not sure why Namjoon says it like that. Like it took more energy to just lie there than actually doing the surgery but-

Tae's hand moves sloppy, and her words are half unintelligible but this is what she writes on the paper:

Cage or no cage. We are both birds. Wingless or not. Me a chicken, you a penguin looking at the sky no longer flightless when we close our eyes.

Jimin’s scent blooms close, happy and vanilla goodness. The smell of reading old books at nighttime is comforting and familiar. Tae's heart beats a little faster. Namjoon huffs with his stethoscope and listens some more- laughing lightly when Tae opens her eyes and looks up at him, heart pumping quicker. He zips up her compression vest, to help with the swelling and buttons up her shirt, one of Yoongi's warm flannels. The same one that the pack trades back and forth.

She closes her eyes and you take the notebook and pencil from her before it can clatter onto the floor. Jimin kisses one eyelid and then the other. Murmuring something softly to you at her elbow. Kissing you too- judging from the way that the bed dips as he leans over. The light is turned low and honey.

Tae doesn’t really feel it, the weight or the pain of the incisions or anything really, just a bit of nausea when Namjoon asks and she thinks about it. She turns down the crackers and the toast that Jin offers.

She breathes in, feeling her body move with air. There is no weight to them, the lump of her chest. Compressed close to her body by a surgical vest to minimize inflammation. Honestly, she feels a little lighter if anything. Something like a string poised to snap that is no longer wound around her ribcage and aching heart. No longer suffocating.

She hasn’t even seen them yet; she shouldn’t be able to feel a difference already. But somehow when she closes her eyes, she can tell it’s different. That she’s different. A good sort of change.

It’s a slow healing process, Tae can’t get up or get out of bed for a few days, can do little more but sleep and eat and listen to Namjoon read her favorite books to her in his deep voice when she gets too dizzy to read on her own. Watching bad television and every single Studio Ghibli movie that ever did exist.

She can’t even do so much as put on her own shirts- although the pack is there to help with literally all of it. Buttoning a shirt over her fresh bandages, Jin kisses up her midline the same way she seen him do to you. Namjoon cleans her drains and Tae asks for perfume for once. Her Rosey cinnamon scent has stayed foggy with sickness and stress. Almost dewy damp.

You understand, the skin on your lower back is pealing and smells so ewey. You still can't sleep on your back.

It takes her 3 days before she can lift her arms above her head without pulling her stitches and manages to convince Namjoon and Jimin that she’s well enough to eat dinner like normal at the dining room table.

She sits with you on the outdoor furniture in the morning and eats watermelon. There’s only so much editing and staying yes to the dress that she can handle. The others herd her back to bed any time she looks the least bit uncomfortable or in pain.

Everyone is good, everyone is perfectly well-behaved, you don’t get handsy you don’t even paw at her to look when Namjoon undoes the compression vest. Although there is a moment when Namjoon stands back with the surgical gloves and blushes from his collar bones to his ear. "You need to wear this for the next three weeks, you can only take it off when you shower okay? And be gentle, the skin is so tender."

By day five she can dress herself, and she can't sleep any longer that to 5am when jungkook starts moving around for his walk, rousing you gently. She’s going stir crazy enough that you’re very very happy to take her with you on your morning walk.

Going extra extra slow. By the time you’re home the rest of the pack is in a bit of a tizzy trying to find her, Jimin wrenches open the door at the sound of your steps on the stairs.

Both you and Tae chagrined, Jungkook smiling a little too wide at Jimin’s generally disheveled appearance. Hair all a mess, scent acrid with panic.

“We went on a walk.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “where?”

“Around the block. Tae woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep.”

“You have fun?” "Yes." "Are your stitches torn?" "No" "You're not bleeding anywhere?" "No."

He wipes down his hair, behind him. Yoongi looks similarly off-kilter, buttons mismatched on his flannel. Rubbing his eyes. “Hobi's making breakfast.”

"Oh? Pancakes?"

"Boob-shaped ones!" He calls from inside.

Everyone is a little protective of Tae, a little possessive too.

By Wednesday of the next week, Namjoon goes to work and you drag Yoongi and Jin out for a little bit of shopping for nesting materials. Jimin has to go back to work too. She'll be fine on her own for a few hours. She can get dressed all right by herself. But Namjoon and Jimin have their ringers on and she's got a day's worth of snacks already pre-wrapped in the fridge.

Jimin and Tae had a moment earlier, helping her get dressed, smiling, looking up at her face and then back down, cheeks slowly going red. "hey my eyes are up here."

"I know," his fingers are gentle as they stroke down her midline. looking at them.

"They suit you, they look so nice and soft. They look so- you." Jimin's voice is rough and Tae's is too, but there are kisses and soft words.

"I'm so glad you told me, you're so brave. I'll never not be proud of you. I'm so glad you tried to be you. I'll never not be thankful that I got to meet the real version of you and got to fall in love all over again."

there's more, but i'll save that for them. Their little secret. Tae is sort of crying when Jimin's done, but he just wipes her tears away gently and lets her cry. The last of it goes away with that. The last of the tension. The dysphoria that will become a distant memory.

Tae hasn't really seen them yet. They're covered with the compression vest almost all the time. She's been sitting too much. Reading and editing and writing because she can at least use her hands. The brief glance she'd gotten at the bloody stitches had sort of freaked her out. But everyone has been so appreciative. You especially.

Hobi has another wedding to do the flowers for and Jungkook has his Wednesday kickboxing classes. The house is quiet and Noodle naps in a puddle of sunlight in the living room. The air conditioning hums and Tae is home, alone, for the first time.

She spent the morning waking up slowly, forehead kissed, waist held, but when the house gets silent, she steals away upstairs. Take the steps slowly, one at a time. going as fast as she's able. Aiming for the dressing room.

Her body is still a bit sore. A little tender, it's only been a week- and it's going to take her another week before she can really move around like she used to. But Namjoon took her stitches out at the kitchen table last night. And the slide of thread through the skin was only a little bit gross, a little bit nauseating.

The weight of her chest is welcome, but hard to get used too- she feels like she’s a little off balance as she teeters up the stairs. but she was warned about this, she knows to take it slow and adjust to her new center of gravity. Going up the stairs one at a time. patiently waiting for her body to stop hurting.

Tae steals away to the side of the room that contains your dresses and a spilling over set of drawers that hold your and Tae's lingerie collection (let's be honest, most of it belongs to Tae.)

Somehow, most of Jimin's gifts had actually been in the right size. It's soulmate magic maybe, or perhaps just good intuition that had him picking out the right cup and band size. Most of them are unlined anyways.

A lot of them are new and hers but a few of them are yours and old, your workout bras and old bralettes. If she’s not careful she still catches you wearing the same bras and underwear greying with age. The type of thing that's gone worn and brings back affectionate memories of the first time you and her ever did your makeup in the library room downstairs.

The little book box of makeup that once held her soul and kept it hidden away now sits open on the top shelf just above her head. The inside of it is filled with costume jewelry, fake pearls, and glittering Swarovski chokers.

Tae gets a stool so she can reach for it.

What Tae reaches for isn’t anything that you or Jimin have bought. It's small enough that she had almost forgotten about it (and you’ve probably forgotten about it too). But the bralette is thin and flimsy at the bottom of the book box. Made of cheap plastic fabric, white and gauzy mesh dotted with small yellow daisies. The first bra she ever bought and the only one she ever bought for herself.

It's not even really a bra, but a bralette.

Tae unzips her compression vest with shaky fingers.

Tae remembers you looking at it the first time you ever did your makeup together, the crinkle of the plastic as you touched it. A realization dawning on your face that you hadn't voiced. But you'd used 'she' pronouns for her pretty soon after that. And Tae had always know, that seeing this was the moment you realized, that was the moment it started to feel real for her too. Not just some stupid dream.

Tae puts it on quickly, hissing when she feels her sensitive new skin touched. The band digs into her skin uncomfortable, the fabric brushing over her sensitive nipples.

It will take some getting used to. She’s careful to close her eyes before she sees herself in the mirror, careful not to spoil it for herself. She wanted her real first look to be like this, alone. Just herself and her body.

It might be a little too early to wear this and yet, she keeps her eyes closed as she maneuvers herself in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling mirror over by the settee. Almost tripping over your pj's discarded on the floor as she goes. Her eyes are still closed when her fingers touch the cold glass, and she stands in front of it properly, gripping either side so hard that the gold filigree edge digs into her skin.

later tonight there will be dress up and dress down. it will feel like the most natural thing in the world and tae will realize that although they're new to her, her boobs have always felt like they were there. There will be no more dysphoria, no more clawing at her throat when she takes off her shirt or puts on a dress.

Your hands will hold around her waist as she tries on each and every one of her dresses to see how she looks in them now. The blue dress from the first day at the thrift store, the one you wore for your first date, every dress, even the ones with the puffy skirts that Jimin got for her after she came out. The ballgowns and corsets and lingerie.

Tae is going to try on all of it. You're going to do her makeup and when you're finished, both of you will be covered in kiss marks from your belly button up. It won't even be sexual it will just feel like love.

You're going to take so many photos that you'll fill up your camera roll and ask for yoongi's phone instead. They'll be half boudoir and half not. Pictures of the two of you in each and every one of those new bras and underwear, photos of tae in this pose and that pose. Kisses on her cleavage and even lower.

She's going to not be able to take her eyes off of them in the mirror but the feeling of them squishing into your front when you hug will be something else entirely. You might have a second photoshoot just for you- a gift maybe for the rest of the pack, you and Tae bare. One chest pressed to another, nothing between the two of you.

Tae will be a bit obsessed with them, will be a little bit proud of them. they'll be perfect.

She's perfect.

But that's for later. Right now, Tae takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

~-~

Notes:

-sometimes i worry that i'm starting every chapter of bily the same way and while i know i started the letter to my dead cat this way, i hope this is the fist chapter of bily i've started with the line of summer polishing it's rusty claws. Because thats what i'm refrencing, my old cat, i miss her every day. Barely a day goes by that i don't miss her. we're planting cat nip over her grave this summer. i think hobi probably does the same when noodle dies.

-90% certain that namjoon is reading one of the Bridgerton books when they’re at the beach, I love the idea of him being like “don’t fall for it Penelope, make him work for it” when it comes to pollin you know? Like namjoon would be so cute and so so into it.

-Okay but??? I actually got emotional thinking about noodle and Hobi smelling flowers together. You’re telling me noodle went from living in a 2 x 2 cage to having his own garden and 8 humans that love him 🥺 stop I just know he’s so happy. I’ve also decided that noodle is 8 years old. I think that feels like the right age for him.-

-Not to be unintentionally soft but I think the act of putting on sunscreen for someone else might but the most drawn out act of loving there is, when jin does it he’s taking care of the packs future health, a sort of daily effort that shows the investment and that he’s invested in their health for a long time :( I personally think it’s a very soft way of loving.

-i feel like at one point in the future hobi and the m/c actually do try doing oral sex on each other but it's way way too much of a trigger for both of them- hobi especially with pussy, that he tries it once and decides he doesn't want too do it for trauma reasons and both of them are so very cool with it. especially because all of the other alpha's do eat her out fairly regularly and jungkook loves sucking cock so- one thing i like about the bily pack is that they're all so sexually active that everyone gets what they need without hose needs imposing on any of the other packmates.

-the part where hobi and the m/c are like "you're the shame of the regimine.", "what do your suprieriors do with you." is a quote from the 1996 pride and prejudice movie, in my mind i think it's one of their inside jokes with tae too! hopefully people get it.

-yoongi is so cute telling her that he got a nibble on his bait like- i can just picture him being so excited and gummy smiling at her when he sees her. i feel like yoongi might be a tiny bit unaware that she's having a bad day, but their relationship is more equal this way when he's not like- hingeing his entire self worth on weather or not she's okay. i think about them post and pre moonbyul and i think this is one of their diffrences post moonbyul

-i think that the conversation that tae and jimin where having before the m/c walked up went something like this. "i feel like this morning, she might not have wanted it but she didn't tell me." "you should ask her before you ruminate on it any more." "i know i know, it's just hard." "thats not what has you upset today though, you're blaming yourself for that for a reason." "don't tell on me," "i'm not, i just know you." "i don't look good today and it's stupid, it's stupid to be upset about it when the pup- when jungkook- it's stupid to worry about how i look when there's so much going on." "it's not stupid, not when it's you." "i feel like if i hadn't been jealous this morning, i might have noticed that she wasn't into it." "tae, you still don't know if she was even upset." or something like that.

-i know it's silly, but i absolutely love the part where the m/c tells tae she ate her cherry and she's remorseless about it. like thats so /her/ she has such a personality to her you know? i don't think she'll ever be a true reader insert.

-I did not mention namjoon's dick in the shower scene because i knew i would get side tracked if i did.

-the line of 'i believe you' is because clover told me that this last time she visited and honestly, i don't think anyone's ever believed me before. it was the first time anyone told me that they belived me. like- someone /belives/ me??? how wild is that???? i know she loves bily more than anyone and i wanted to make sure i put bits of her in this story too. i haven't told her it will be in here but i hope she reads it and knows its from her without even having to read the notes. i sorta wanted to send her this chapter of bily early because she was sick but i also! wanted it to be perfect and a good surprise <3

-this might be an unpopular opinion but i think tae looks the best in yellow.

-i helped a trans friend of mine remove their boobs in 2020 so i'm hoping that getting a boob job is a similar process/recovery time. they told us the surgery would only last 2-3 hours but we where there for 18 because of pre and post op.

-the drug section where tae is being dumb was a last minute addition- i hope people think it's funny as opposed to thinking it's stupid.

-i actually got really emotional writing that ending i hope...i hope one day being trans won't be so scary. i hope each and every trans person gets a moment like tae's a moment where they love their body and love themselves as much as they love the people around them. i hope your body loves you back. i hope you never stop trying or dreaming.

[paranormaldorks]

Prompt #3

This was fine. Everything was under control. Nothing he couldn’t handle!

That’s what Danny had been chanting to himself for the past hour. The day had started out fairly normal. He had phased through his bed and had to crawl his way out from underneath, grateful for the soft rug Jazz had given when he moved into the apartment that he had to wiggle on top of to free himself. Once he was free, he made himself something easy for breakfast. (well- it was closer to lunch but it was his first meal of the day, so breakfast.)

He called Sam and Tuck while he was getting ready for the day, having to defend his choice of crawling instead of just phasing his way back out when questioned. It wasn’t his fault he tended to forget his own powers even after he just suffered from the effects of them. Once he had hopped his way into his jeans and haphazardly chose what should be a fairly clean hoody- he said goodbye and hung up before heading out to run by a coffee shop before class.

That seemed to have been a mistake- as he neared the door of the caffeine palace, Danny was suddenly hit with what felt like a strong gust of wind and then a very sudden cold. Now the cold wasn’t something that really bothered Danny much with his ice core- but this sudden chill felt comparable to when his core type presented itself.

That sudden cold was very quickly followed by intense vertigo before Danny realized the floor was closer. Much closer. Alarmingly close. It only took Danny a few seconds more to realize he was on all fours. Then a few more seconds to realize he wasn’t human. He had hurriedly looked around but he hadn’t seen any clue as to how he had become- well he actually wasn’t sure what he was but that didn’t matter. However it seemed that whatever it was that changed him had left already, and his skewed perspective wasn’t helping.

One hour later of struggling to get out of the way of sharp shoes and frankly terrifying rats, Danny stared down at his admittedly ugly face in a puddle. He recognized that he was some sort of cat- but he looked diseased. There was very little hair on his face and the hair that was on him was dark and sparse. The only part of him that was spared was his new silky tail.

Eventually he decided it would be best to head back to the apartment. On the way he found he could still use his ghostly abilities, although any attempt to change back human fell flat and he’s pretty sure he accidentally traumatized some poor pedestrian with a biblically accurate cat. Instead of just flying back to his run down apartment, Danny walked back- hoping to figure out some sort of solution along the way.

He was deep within his thoughts, in the midst of cutting through some damp ally to get home faster, when he walked directly into someone’s shoe. Danny stumbled back from going nose first into metal boots- wrinkling his nose as he studied the oddly armor looking shoes. His scrutinizing was interrupted as a warm hand wrapped itself around his body and lifted him.

Either whoever picked him up was massive or he was much smaller than he originally thought. Danny flailed his paws as he was cradled in one hand, his panic and frantic hissing interrupted as he looked up into the red mask of his attacker. Something softer and comforting unfurled from his core and Danny lowered his raised claws to look at the other who held him. He could faintly smell something rusty and familiar but that was thrown away when the other tucked him closer to their body and started to walk somewhere with purpose.

“If Junior can have a damn zoo, I can have one cat-“ Danny chirped as he barely caught what the masked mystery man had uttered under his breath. It wasn’t ideal to get spontaneously yoinked when he had no clue how to return to normal, he couldn’t help the way his tail looped around the man’s wrist and allow himself to get carried off.

[sirfrogsworth]

I had no idea you're a professional photographer! I mostly follow your other blog for Corgis - if you posted your work there and I missed it, I apologize.

Your photography is AMAZING and thank you for sharing tips on light!

Bonus if you have time: when did you develop (haha!) interest for it and what's your favorite thing about this medium? ☆

Thank you. I have been trying to go back to my older work and edit things with my current skills and I have been posting that on occasion.

I also have an Instagram which is sort of like my current portfolio until I have the energy to create a proper website.

It's funny you mention corgis because Otis was the reason I got a proper camera. My followers helped me raise the money to get him and I felt like he belonged to everyone. So I wanted to make sure I took lots of photos of his shenanigans for people to enjoy. If they couldn't have a corgi of their own, I wanted them to live vicariously.

I never do anything halfway. I always go quite overboard. I filled my brain with everything I could possibly learn about photography so I could take the best possible photos of Otis.

In the process of doing that, I realized I loved the art form. So even though Otis isn't around anymore, I owe him for giving me this wonderful creative outlet.

I took a long hiatus from photography when my parents got sick and I had to take care of them. Even though I stopped taking photos, I would watch photography education to help me relax. And it felt a bit like that meme of the dude studying the blade. I was learning some very advanced stuff.

Once my parents both passed I found myself with a giant hole in my life. And photography called me once again. I was a bit rusty operating the camera for a day or two, but because I had continued my learning, it all came back pretty quick. And I realized I was orders of magnitude better at photography, lighting, and post processing than I used to be.

My first photoshoot after 7 years was of my aunt and uncle. I didn't have much in the way of lighting equipment (I sold it to help my family), so I bounced a little flash off one of those science fair trifold thingies.

These shots made me realize I definitely needed photography back in my life. I figured if I could do that with cardboard I found at Walmart, I would have great potential with proper equipment. So I'm in the process of building a new studio and getting some new gear so I can show off what I'm capable of now.

I ran into a little medical hiccup a few months ago which put everything on pause. While I'm recovering I'm not really able to take any photos. So I've decided to try and write some photography education and help others with their photographic journeys as best I can. And I am still continuing to learn and planning what I want to photograph when my health is in better shape.

I really want to do high quality animal portraiture. Not just cats and dogs. I want to find other exotic pets too. And I also want to do an art project where I help people take high quality photos of their parents. One of the things I was most grateful for after my folks died was the photos I took of them.

And also this one I took of my grandmother.

Having a really high quality photo of people you love is so important. And I don't think everyone realizes that. So I'm hoping I can help folks capture these important memories.

Oh, my favorite thing. I almost forgot. I would say it is the problem solving. Every photo is a new puzzle for me. Especially if I am working with artificial lighting and modifiers. I enjoy imagining a photo in my head and then going through the process, solving problems, and realizing what I imagined in real life. It's a great feeling.

This photo of my friend Ryan comes to mind. I just had this vision of someone reading in the middle of a forest. And so we dragged lights to my neighbors yard and I taped a flash inside the lampshade.

[frostedclock-writes]

Crimson Magnolias

Part 7

----

Warnings: Hanahaki Disease, emotions coming to a head, jealousy

---

The congealed flower and blood soup on the floor was thick. A few splatters ended up on the top of your shoes, great. Yet another pair ruined by this stupid curse of yours. And now your stuck. Stuck in this little coffin of an elevator with your own shame staring at you. You wipe your mouth but the taste lingers.

You take a few breaths, your lungs feel tight when you try to breath in. It will be fine. You just have to try and pry a rusty metal door open and climb to the closest opening you can find. It will be all okay. The bees knees. Cats pajamas. Fucking shit.

You slowly sit up straight after your stomach stopped doing the dry squeezing to try and empty what was left. Which currently was nothing, even your stomach acid refused to give anything. The small elevator smelled like blood and flowers, you couldn't escape it now. Maybe Rosie had been right, you were holding so much in. Perhaps even just talking with her would have helped, but at this point it seemed like it was a lost cause.

" I'm such a fucking idiot. " You laugh out the words. Or perhaps they were sobs. You couldn't even tell yourself.

You lean your back against the very back of the elevator away from the sticky puddle. Your eyes stung and you felt something wet slide down your cheek. When did it even begin? When did you first fall for such a man like Alastor?

It must have been then.

Even if you hadn't known.

It was when your eyes first met his. You fell hard and didn't even know until you were picking your face off of the ground.

It had been stormy spring in Louisiana, the Mississippi had overflown a few times and made some residents of New Orleans need to clean their basements out of rotted goods and items. You had been walking the brick laid streets, rain still sprinkled and splattered against the peacoat you wore that day for the chill that lingered in the early morning air. You used to work in that little bakery and had to go in early to get things prepared, that day had been no different.

You must have not been paying attention. You couldn't even remember what had been on your mind in those moments before the shop whindow had caught your attention. Radios on display of all sorts, large and small. Some with intricate carvings into the wood and the love put into the products was obvious.

" Such beautiful work ..." You must have spoken out loud.

You recall seeing a reflection next to yours as it came into view. A tall man with dark hair and a smile on his lips.

"A woman with impeccable taste, a rare find. " You thought his chuckle was like hearing music for the first time.

You turned your head to the stanger next to you. Normally, no one was up this early and walking about, except perhaps you and a few shopkeeps. He was dressed in a simple white button up paired with dark brown slacks that looked startched and pressed, crisp lines followed his thin silhouette. A bowtie topped off his appearance.

Your eyes met deep brown ones and they seemed to study you.

" Radios can come in such wondrous forms, don't you agree?" His voice was so familiar to you then. It ticked the recesses of your mind like a jingle you couldn't get rid of in your mind.

The rain started to fall a little harder and it made some of your hair stick to your face. He looked at you, a tilt of the head. You hadn't answered and you realized you must seem rude. You laughed and smiled.

" I suppose. Sorry, you sound familiar. Do I know you?" You ask and you take the little clutch purse you carried and put it over your head like a visor as the rain droplets began to pelt down like little pinpricks. The stanger had seemed like he didn't mind.

He had both of his hands tucked behind him, one came out and he bowed a bit at his waist. His smile shown brightly even in the low lighting of the streetlamps and shops slowly turning on their lights. " You must have heard one of my radio shows. Alastor, a pleasure to be meeting you. " His hand extended with his palms upwards.

You gently lay your hand in his.

You can still feel the small thin callouses on his hand and the feel of his lips on the back of your hand. Such a simple thing.

" Mmm how unsightly. "

Your eyes open back up and the raining streets of New Orleans faded and the harsh lights of the elevator reminded you of where you were. The sound like someone stepping in sticky soda and pulling their shoe off of it, kinda squishy at the same time. You shoot your eyes to the voice and noise. Alastor's nose was scrunched up as he looked at the bottom of his hooves. Mushed petals and blood stuck to the polished red of his hooves.

You wish you could drop dead right then and there.

Maybe if you bit off your tongue you could bleed out in time?

Alastor stepped off to the side of the petal and he dusted his hand off like he had touched the viscera and petals himself. His eyes looked to you. They narrowed a little and he scanned your face for something but you didn't know what.

" You thought you could slip away like that?" He asked simply. " And now I see why you really haven't been feeling yourself lately. "

You felt your stomach clench. " It's nothing. "

Lights flickered in the elevator.

" Nothing?" A record scratch and he moved in close. Close and fast. It made your heart feel like it went straight into your throat. " You've been hiding something such as this from me. "

No everyone has been right. You're killing yourself. And for what? You might have been able to move on with Vox but he goes and...

' Someone like you deserves better-'

' You look like you need to get things off your chest.'

' You need to stop holding yourself back.'

"Do you even really care? Did you ever care?" Your eyes felt like they were stinging. Your throat burned like you swallow boiling water. " About me?"

He stopped for a moment and looked at you. Intense red. " What?"

You realized he had leaned his tall frame over you and you were effectively trapped against the wall. You had to crane your neck to look at him in the eyes. "Or was I just some fun thing to have around? Or did you just like the idea of having someone around that would do anything for you?"

Alastor blinked and he moved to not be so looming over you. His usual postering seemed to fade. " Cher..."

" No... Don't 'cher' me." You rubbed your palms against your cheeks and wiped the tears tracks away.

A hand went over yours, stopping the aggressive wipe you were about to do. " Y/N." The filter he usually put to his voice was gone. Just his voice. You looked at him from the spot on his chest you had decided to focus on. " How could you ask me a thing like that? I care for you a great deal. "

You felt your gut twisting into knots and the taste of ginger was unbearable in your mouth. " But, not in the way that I want you too. " You slipped your hand from his.

His hand stayed a few centimeters from your face for a moment. You could feel the heat of his hand from there, and then it was against your cheek. Warm. How can a cannibalistic serial killer's hands be so gentle? You so wanted to lean into the touch, wanted more.

"Y/N, " his name fell from your lips and you looked into his eyes. His smile was slight, a ghost of his usual stretched grin. " You fancied me?"

You let out a broken sob of a laugh. " You're such an idiot. Fancy you. Yes. " You made another laugh as it felt like your lungs were on fire. " Fuck, Alastor. I have loved you. Been devoted to you. " Tears began to fall again. " You think anyone who isn't in love with your dumbass would put up with you this long? "

Alastor sighed out a laugh. And for a split moment you felt like he was about to make fun of you. "I suppose you are right. If you have for so long, why have you never spoke it?"

You felt your cheeks heat up beneath the drying trails of tears. " Because.... I know you don't ... " You shifted. " Exactly do the dating, courting, romance, shtick. I enjoy youy company. Why would I want to ruin it with that? I had hoped it would go away. " You clutched at the fabric in front of your chest. Your lungs felt a bit lighter as you spoke.

His thumb brushed against your cheek. " Quite a silly woman you are. "

He was close. A different closeness then you had been used to from him. " How am I silly?"

" I enjoy your company immensely. Before I arrived down here, there were but a few who I would choose to spend time with outside the dancefloor. " His hand left your cheek and it went to the peice of your hair that had stuck to your wet cheeks. He seperated it and gently ran his red tipped fingers across it to the very end.

" Alastor," you began.

" Cher, you could have told me and I wouldn't have outright rejected the notion..."

The heat rose in your cheeks and you felt like your heart was about to stop beating. Maybe you had passed out in the elevator and hit your head. You expected him to sit up at any moment and laugh, tell you how it was actually silly of you to think he would even entertain the idea of becoming more than friends. But he never did.

" And I suppose you were right. " He stood up straight and adjusted his bowtie.

" What?" You blinked and looked at him. He wouldn't meet your gaze now.

" I am... " He grumbled the last part and it sounded like a radio station getting lost.

" Hmm?"

" I am jealous. " Alastor cleared his throat, taking his monocle and pretending to clean it. " Thinking of you with that.... Man... Made me a bit irrate. " He put his monocle back on. " I didn't agree to the idea when he mentioned his feelings before and I agree less now. " He waved his hand and his cane appeared, he stamped it and the elevator began to move again.

" Oh, well... Wait, before? " You cocked an eyebrow. When he didn't answer and the elevator door dinged open, you knew he wasn't going to.

Alastor stepped over the puddle about into the hallway. " I'll have Niffty come and clean this mess up, not to worry. " He said as he helped you over the blood and petals.

" Alastor, " you looked at him for a moment then took a small breath, then he put his finger to your lip with a tut.

" Saturday. Cancel whatever that Vox had planned and meet me outside my broadcast room. " He moved his finger away. " I'll take you somewhere. "

" A.... Date?"

Alastor shifted on his hooves, he made a small chuckle. " Yes.... " He chuckled gently. " A date. " He took your hand and kissed the back of your hand.

You swore you could hear the pitter-patter of rain.

taglist: @boldlyenchantingfox22 @sirens-and-moonflowers @phoephan-123 @girl-nahh-two @kerosene--lamp @l3rittany @lunamoonbby @sallymoon135

[d3cay1ngst4tic]

— NOTHING TO HOLD ONTO BUT SHATTERED GLASS.

synopsis. if you thought your curiosity would ebb away once you saw the vampire with your own eyes, you were wrong. oh so wrong—

— for curiosity did kill the cat.

and so it is, killing you from the inside, his name engraved into your nerves and a sickly chanting in your mind going on and on for eternity.

contents. satoru gojo x gn!reader. vampire!satoru. fantasy. horror. grotesque imagery. there’s potentially disturbing imagery in this one during the end. <- is quite literally the horror genre who am i kidding. reader is sort of numb and longing. ah yes pining 101. satoru being a cryptic FREAK. immense background building i fear.

word count. 2.3k ish

★ jiah’s notes. please have faith in me that toru will get more interactions with reader in future chapters 🙏🏻 trust the process, yeah ?

series masterlist.

000 — your name suffocates my guts, please don’t stop staring.

the wood of the counter feels a little too smooth.

had it always been this barren? deprived of any aesill or two dumped onto its body, so much so that it’s forgotten what it felt like to have some weight over it. some sort of ground, some sort of need. that it was wanted. like those human hands caressing its skin, the bronze kissing its face, the gold slumbering sweetly on its nose hadn’t been a figment of its imagination.

or maybe, it’s just you sitting at it, chin resting on your knuckles and eyes unfocused.

no. it’s the table, surely. missing something that it’d taken for granted earlier.

(it’s you, something coos right back. you hate how right it is. you hate how it makes you want to look back over your shoulder even though you know just rusty spines of books will stare back.)

but it’s comical, really.

how you miss the weight of something on your shop’s counter while longing for the weight crushing your ribs to disappear.

what had been a dull ache is now a ravenous sting, sharp claws and bared teeth sinking into your bones every time you catch a glimpse of something blue.

blue, blue, blue.

(you’d never hated the colour more.)

blue is the book that rests on the table adjacent to yours, a poor mimicry of the weight that you want so much. blue is the smoke when you look outside the frosty windows, so wispy as it frolics about the streets, sneaking its way to places where it shouldn’t be. blue is the tint on the lone aurcel that lays abandoned in the deepest, darkest corner of the rickety drawer of one of the bookshelves, stained with something so irremovable that it doesn’t have a trace of its true worth anymore.

(blue is the mark over your heart which the vampire’s teeth had left behind.

so beautifully vile that you want it all over you.)

is this what it was like? what he felt, all the time?

to be the root of rotten rumours, to be nothing but something on the tip of a stranger’s tongue, something to repel gazes by simply taking in a breath, something so painfully morbid and dirty that you might just infect someone with a disease yet unknown just by staring.

(just a medium, nothing else.)

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve stared at the front door of the shop. once worried, eager eyes have now transformed into something much more defeated, something much more. . resigned.

and yet, you’re the whisper that moulds itself into the blue smoke in the deepest cracks of the street.

(and before you know it, you’re met with so many yous, yous which you hadn’t seen in the dreams drawn by the most delirious delusions.)

sometimes, you is the drawl on a middle aged man’s tongue, exaggerated and envious, horrified intrigue slicing through your veins and holding you still for speculation that you don’t remember giving consent to.

sometimes, you is the hushed whisper of an old dame— mind you, she’s a little sick in the head— piteous and patronising, woeful eyes so full of misery that you might just be buried six feet under by now.

sometimes, you is the panicked yell of a child, who refuses to look at anything remotely resembling a bright blue, trembling hands already clamping your vision shut, too scared to look at at fear, even if it was simply the sky outside.

you, you, you.

(suddenly, it’s all about you.)

you and the dazed look in your eyes, you in that rusty, abandoned bookshop of yours, you trapped in the web that you created yourself and you who wonders what went wrong.

(you, who’s still miraculously alive after seeing the vampire.)

some might deem you as a hero, something otherworldly— too divine to be touched by the rot, too pure to be tainted by something diabolical— while some cast you petrified stares and sharp glances, utterly, utterly convinced that you’re some dark message, a sign, a warning that doom shall take over the town.

(a god to one, while a beast to another.)

it’s almost laughable.

while one part of the town wants to fall to your feet and kiss your holy skin, the other part wants to burn you down for being connected to something as vile as the vampire.

and yet, both of them ponder over the same, impossible question—

(— how did you survive? the never ending blue? the piercing white? the sheer dread creeping around your nape like a silent predator?)

you don’t know, either.

you wish you knew. but at the same time, it’s better off that you don’t.

(it won’t be as fun then.)

so, here you are— neither in heaven, nor hell.

(just somewhere in between, with strings through your skin, swishing about this way and that; whatever fancies the people’s whims, just a miserable little marionette with empty eyes and an empty pocket.)

your eyes close and you inhale.

you’ve been doing that quite often now.

taking in air, simply feeling what it’s like to breathe. it doesn’t help that the air reeks of dusty words and atrocious accusations, but at least you’re breathing.

(or that’s what you try to tell yourself.)

breathe, the voice beneath your lungs says, breathe, you’re still human.

(or are you?)

your feet arise from their slumber and guide you with gentle, pitying whispers to the back of your shop, to your room.

right.

(the mirror.)

you’ve been watching the mirror a lot lately, too.

(you know you don’t look like a human anymore.)

your gaze is far too much like a void now. like pools of nothingness trying to take away every single hint of blues with frantic, desperate hands— grabbing onto it and cradling it against their chest like something too precious to share.

your lips are parched, and you’re only just aware of how dry your insides seem— as if a drought dressed in an expensive coat with crisp white hair has dried it all up— burning them to nothing but a crisp, leaving the taste of ashes on your tongue.

(what has he done to you?)

one name, just one name.

so unbelievably smooth on your dry mouth and so unbearingly blinding to your lost eyes—

satoru gojo.

maybe it would’ve been better if he hadn’t told you his name. you would’ve dismissed it all as a figment of your imagination. a distant fever dream, something quite unrelated to the real world, something that one can never think of happening.

(something that cannot be real.)

but it is. very real, infact. it burns itself through your teeth and kisses your eyes to make them water, it delves deep into your skin and fills your lungs with dust, it curls up in your mind and chews away at the little sanity you have left.

it could have been easier.

it would have been easier, if only he hadn’t slipped his name between your ribs, right over the damned little bloom whose roots sank a little deeper into the marrow of your body.

but then again, you aren’t any different.

you still do look for a glimpse of blue in every little thing, even if you despise it. even if the teeth sink deeper into your bones. you still do.

(because, oh, what will you be without it?)

earlier, it was just flimsy mortal declarations and hushed caution that kept the shadow of the vampire alive, even if not himself.

but now?

you’d seen him.

no grated voices, no prideful musings. pure and unadulterated, with snow on his hair and the sky in his eyes, you’d seen all of him— the vampire, the vampire who left nothing but aurcels and his name behind.

no one to intervene.

(just you and him and you and him and you and him.)

your soles cry out in protest when you put your worn out shoes back on again. a mumbled apology leaves your lips, but you’re not sure whom it is addressed to.

(you let it hang in the air for anyone to claim, anyway.)

“ah, you’re here,” your head snaps up and your heart lurches— what? it couldn’t be—

(your eyes meet the blue.)

bile rises to your throat, but it pushes itself back down, crawling its way back home down your throat.

this blue is of the oceans. it doesn’t shine blindingly bright— it’s somehow much softer, yet it pins you in place, a needle thrust through your chest.

(it doesn’t turn everything and everyone else in its wake blue, either.)

you clear your throat.

“sorry,” you rasp, and you internally wince at how raspy, how unused your voice sounds, “i. . . went to fetch some papers back there. is there something i can. . help you with?”

“certainly,” the man quips, eyes half covered by the hat he wears. the blue doesn’t consume you, it simply holds you steady, as if keeping a frightened animal from running away. “i’d like to purchase this book.”

you hear the counter sigh dreamily when finally, finally a weight dips on it, your eyes blankly watching as dusty fingers seem to wrap themselves around the rickety spine of the book, too frantic and wanting, too needing and eager.

“two hundred aesills,” you mutter.

(a snarky voice at the back of your mind along with satoru gojo mocks you for being envious of an inanimate little table.)

choosing to ignore it, no, forcing yourself to ignore it, you fish out the yellowing parchment from its drawers, opening it with more force than required— a sick, twisted sense of satisfaction settling into your guts when you hear the wood creak in protest.

(look at you, satoru gojo coos, and the snarky voice snickers, too, reduced to such a eager little heap of pure longing, all because i looked into your eyes and spared you my name.)

“your name?”

your hands shake a little, and you tighten your grip over the quill you’re holding, the rigid shaft digging into your skin somehow keeping you from falling into shambles.

“fyodor murphy,” he hums, “the book’s name is ‘come find me’.”

(a pause.)

“ah, i’ve already noted that down,” you say, peering at him over the the bridge of your nose without raising your head, “saw it earlier.”

“my mistake, i apologize,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach upto his eyes. “still, the book is simply such an enigma amongst its counterparts in the genre that it— goodness me, it simply cannot be spoken about enough.”

(something isn’t right.)

“oh?” you say, your gaze dipping back to the scrawl over the parchment instead, “you seem rather. . . passionate about it.”

it makes you uneasy, that sharp smile on the man’s face. like he knows something that you don’t.

(it isn’t the uneasy that satoru gojo makes you feel. this one doesn’t consume you whole, it just lingers about in the cracks within your bones, as if waiting for you to do something before pouncing.)

“i am,” he says, and his laugh echoes in the air, bouncing off the ancient bookshelves right back to your face, so overwhelming yet tame, “rostislava silva is an excellent author. i must say, i am quite an enthusiast about macabre mentions in literature in general, but her works are the thing that keeps me on my toes. ah, the joys of obsession and reading it in the most beautifully grotesque way possible.”

it feels a little off, how he rambles on.

like he’s pointing at the title again and again and again, hinting at something that you have no knowledge about.

(yet.)

“and then there’s of course the sheer naming of the—”

(come find me, come find me, come find me.)

“i beg your pardon,” you say, rising to your feet, a strained smile on your lips, “but that’d be two hundred aesills, please.”

(a pause.)

“why, of course,” you hate the way he doesn’t look even remotely offended at your light jab, “of course. my apologies.”

with the copper coins dumped at your counter and the damned book in his hand, the man dissolves with the blue mist outside your abode, never to be found again.

(but he still stays on in your head, slowly beginning to ease his way inside your wounds.)

come find me, someone whispers in your ear and you flinch. come find me.

come find me. come find me. come find me.

come—

find—

me.

(no.)

come find me, snickers the ocean blue.

you barely swallow the lump in your throat before you’re scrambling to your feet once more, eyes wild and lips parted as your trembling fingers take hold of the dusty cover of the book at the shelf behind you, only for the ragged papers to scream the words right back at you—

— come find me.

“no,” you rasp, voice barely audible whilst you shake like a leaf in a storm, legs feeling numb, “no, no, no, no—”

a different book. yes, a different book. it won’t have those words, won’t have that title, it won’t yell back at you—

“come find me,” the woman in the book says, inky eyes unseeing at the second paragraph of the page, and you drop it to the floor.

(no, no, no.)

“come find me,” sing the children’s rhymes, and you feel a sob tearing itself out of your throat.

(come find me, they sing, happy little voices somehow distorted into uglier, rotten versions of themselves by the dust settling over them.)

“come find me,” says the man in the journal, sharp eyes staring through your soul, and your heart thunders against your ribs, a frightened little rabbit trying to escape from its own burrow.

so, so blue that you feel the wispy mist start to sneak in through the cracks in the windowsill to your right.

“come find me,” you choke out, and your body barely makes a noise when everything goes black.

(or else i will, satoru gojo croons into your ear, softly kissing you and the flower in your bones good night.)

★ taglist. @deathofacupid / @descargueestoporgojosatoru . (comment to be added !)

@d3cay1ngst4tic on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works.

[certifiedcybersimp]

Glorified Therapy Cat

AN: I know this s gonna be so OOC but I had a vision. Megs doesn't really use human words but yeah. This takes place like 5 ish years pre canon. Also sorry ya'll are gonna be short af like me (5'4" isn't that short but ya know, short kings rise) also sorry for the old school POV differentiation - I'm a bit rusty ←—(is perpetually stuck in 2016)

Summary: Reader becomes Megatron's glorified emotional support cat in denial

Reader's POV

Well, this isn't how I expected my Tuesday to go. One moment I'm backpacking in the mountains off trail and the next I get yoinked by a giant space robot thing and brought as some sort of stupid peace offering or something to its boss.

I was half expecting to be crushed right then and there, but instead here I sit on the arm of his throne a few months later.

Starscream was rambling on about plans or something as Megatron was trying his best to not yell at the poor mosquito lookin bastard, I'd tuned out his ramblings ages ago.

I look around, noticing Megatron wasn't paying attention to me, okay time for operation 'be a pain in Megatron's mega ass '…the name's a work in progress.

I scoot off the arm of his big ass chair throne thing onto the seat,dangling for a moment before falling on my ass from a good 5 ish feet, unfortunately catching Megatron's attention

"Now, what do you think you're doing, pet?" He interrupts Starscream and turns to me, I can see the mosquito's pissed off face from the corner of my eye

"Uh- stretching my legs?" I stand up trying to play it cool with a wary smile crossing my features. Megatron raises a brow (?) at my excuse explanation and raises a servo to shoo Starscream away. I swear I heard him mutter something on his way out but I can't be bothered to care when I'm actively being scooped up in a huge servo.

"Now…what made you think you'd be going anywhere, pet?" He holds me closer to his face to he can taunt me at 'eye-level'. I glance around trying to think of an excuse without looking at him directly.

"Uh...I don't exactly have an answer? Couldn't stand Screamer yapping, so I wanted out." I huff out.

he smirks down at me, "Ah yes, 'Screamer' is quite frustrating, is he not?" He raises his other servo to gently pet my head. He's been doing this so often I've just accepted this as a part of life, whether he does it as a comfort for me or him I couldn't say.

"Frustrating is a nice way to put it, you looked about ready to punch him this time." I mutter as I subconsciously relax, I'd never tell him to his stupid face…but it was nice being doted on sometimes….

Megafart's POV

It was quite amusing to watch this small human so willingly accept my attention, despite the tough front they'd put up. Though it was satisfying to slowly whittle away it his resolve over the past few months, slowly watching them get accustomed to my touch. At first I had loathed the notion of an organic being in my presence , insulted Starscream would even dare to present me with one, however…this one grew on me.

I run my digits through his hair, an action I've found a strange sense of comfort in. So soft, so fragile, yet he was completely at ease in my servo. I smirk moving a digit under their jaw, tilting his head up.

"If my optics don't deceive me, I'd say you're enjoying this." he stares at me, his little optics wide as he stutters an excuse.

"Psh! No, I'm just tired. Yeah, let's just go with that, okay?" Their optics dart around, their fleshy servos moving to push my digit away.

I humor their foolish excuse, moving to stand as they panic and hold onto my servo for balance. "Tired? Well then, I shall take you back to rest, its clearly been such a long and grueling day hasn't it?"

He tenses up as I start walking to my habsuite, there we will have more privacy, less prying optics.

Reader's POV

We were headed back to his room, great. And that's not entirely sarcasm.

I watch as we pass vehicons, who move around the ship like worker ants, doing a variety of tasks. Most of them minded their business, hoping to not incur Megatron's wrath. Which, oddly, had calmed down - at least toward the vehicons, can't say the same for the walking toothpick.

We arrive to his room, he sits down on his weird table bed. Setting me on his thigh, he gently strokes my hair again. Megatron confuses me, not because he's a giant robo warlord from space- well that too but how he's…been so gentle? I mean, I'm not complaining but it was a gradual change from a glorified parakeet to his therapy cat.

It was only a month into my stay when he first brought me to his room, not dropping his guard entirely. He continued his petting, guess I'm sort of proud that I can make a mech so full or rage so calm.

I sigh, really, given the circumstances I should be terrified or fighting against it more. However I guess being at war for so long- or being around Starscream- he's gained a pair of sharp eyes, he sees right through me 'tough guy' act. I can't help but melt into the affection, my touch starved ass needed contact, I look up at him his face is relaxed.

I guess this really isn't that bad

[miyuhpapayuh]

twenty-five

Having time to finally breathe without a job hanging on his back, Leon got around to doing the things he'd been putting off for almost a year or more.

Finally tossed his rickety wooden dining table and its rusty chairs, including the ones in his office, ordered replacements that fit his style much better.

Rearranged his office space, his room and living room, even his kitchen space got a makeover, especially since he'd be setting it up soon for his photography/videography endeavors.

Zora may have had a hand in decor, making sure to send him staple pieces and must haves whenever they came to her mind.

Curved sunset lamps. Neutral couches. Accent pillows. Abstract rugs. House plants that Zora made him vow to take care of, to which he crossed his heart in promise.

“Look at ‘em,” she smiles at the smaller plants in his windowsill.

“Growing, already.” He nods, smiling back at her.

“Like your following on tiktok! Have you seen??”

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I wasn't expecting to have a couple hundred people watching me this soon.”

He'd posted a promotional video he'd been working on for months, adding pictures and videos of his savory and sweet creations, as well as giving a short introduction on himself and what kind of videos he'd be posting.

Thanks to his friends and family sharing, as well as Zora managing his social media for the time being, he was able to gain a decent sized following of food lovers, sending their well wishes for his journey and getting their virtual fork and knife ready.

“Come on, with that face, people will listen to you say anything! Besides, your talent is already speaking for itself. And, I told you that people wanted to see how you made that buttercream cake! Women love buttercream!” She says, throwing her hands up for emphasis.

He chuckles at her enthusiasm.

“That'll be the first video I make, I guess! Since it's most requested. But right after that, I wanna make my famous fries. I also need your beautiful face for that.” He winks, making her giggle.

“Two things on the menu, already. I love it! And I'll be there, just give me a heads up so I can make sure I'm totally available!”

“I got you. I think I'm going to post videos on Wednesday. The middle of the week is peak for lots of us, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“Right. So I think that would be great for engagement purposes. You get off work and tune in to ya boy, cheffin’ it up in the kitchen! Maybe do some cameos with vday, cause I wanna try a couple recipes on her, as well if that's okay.”

“She's your cat too, babe. Of course you can!”

“Great, cause I found this salmon dish and I think she'd be all for it!”

“Aw, you're so excited about all of this. I love it!”

He chuckles and moves away from her, rubbing the back of his hot neck.

“Aw, I made you blush! Com’ere!” She yells, laughing as she chases him down the hall.

“Cmon, Jean!” He laughs as well, throwing a pillow at her as he cuts into his room.

Catching it, she tosses it back on the bed and shakes her head, still poking harmless fun.

His face was entirely covered by his hands by the time she let up, falling over into a giggle fit as he wielded the heat away from his cheeks.

“You are so ridiculous,” he chuckles, poking her in her sides.

“Enough about me. What can you tell me about this event that's coming up?” He asks, playfully cutting his eye at her as she sits down beside him.

It wouldn't be Leon if he wasn't a little sore from being left out. But he understood how important it was for her to keep her journey to herself.

She had seen firsthand how evil people could be when they knew what her plans were, how those who were supposed to love her, instead prayed for her downfall.

He also understood that it was not a personal dig, just overall precaution. And he loves her enough to let it be.

“Well, it's like a gala of sorts! And because I'm taking Nique with me, she found me the baddest outfit! There's gonna be investors there, a couple of whom I've already met, which is kinda nerve wracking.”

“Why?”

“Ya know, I'm not entirely sure. It might be because I haven't had anyone critique my art since college? So it's just a little… intimidating?”

“I understand that,” he nods. “But, think of it this way. That also gives you leverage. They've already seen and loved what you're capable of, as they should, so let that speak for itself.”

Exhaling deeply, she nods. “I've got this, huh?”

Leon snorts.

“Duh.”

“Just for that, that's all I'm sharing.” She laughs, climbing underneath the covers to warm her cold feet.

“Cmon, cold feet, I was just joking!”

“I should put ‘em on you!”

Climbing right in behind her, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her back to him.

“I'm proud of you,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Of course. Now… this outfit,” he starts, making her giggle.

“Yesss,” she drags out.

“A dress? Pantsuit?”

“All I can tell you is that it's a bad outfit! Nique should be a designer cause, wow am I gonna look amazing!” She exclaims, cheesing as he looks down at her.

“Can I take your picture?”

“Of course, baby!! Just don't drop the camera cause ima be smoking hot!”

“Uh oh, tryna kill me early huh?”

“You'll live! Your blood pressure may never recover, though.”

—

“C’mere, I got something to show you,” Leon says to Zora, who just walks in the kitchen.

“What's up, chef?”

Smirking at her nickname, he turns his computer towards her and plays the video he'd just edited on how to make his world famous buttercream.

She watches in awe at the way it's beautifully put together.

“Av, that's really good! And look at that,” she giggles, watching them kiss on camera, “you kept it in there.”

“Of course, I did! It was too cute. And also thank you, for your support and help.” He smiles.

“Of course, baby. I'm so proud of you,” she leans over to kiss his cheek.

That toothy grin of his shines bright, as he grabs his phone to show her the reception that the video has gotten so far.

It had already gotten a thousand views and the same amount of likes, which is what pushes the video to the top of the viewing point.

“How does it feel?” She asks.

“It's nerve wracking,” he laughs. “But, it's also because it's not a warehouse job. I already know the ends and outs of that— this is new territory, like some shit I've always wanted to get my hands on, which makes me a little nervous but I'm excited, at the same time.” He looks over at her, still smiling.

“I'm very happy that you decided to follow your dreams, baby,”

“Thanks to you,” he winks.

“Me? What did I do?”

“You gave yourself another shot at following your own dreams, and that made me wanna do the same.”

“Really?” She frowns. “I had no idea that I did that,”

Reaching out for her hands, he closes the small space between them.

“You don't know the effect you have on me, poppy. I love watching you in creative mode, just as much as anything else you do. Seeing you so free, after caging yourself up for so long is so beautiful. Reminded me of myself and how I let my father’s words dictate who and what I became. I'm more than a blue collar worker. I wanted more for myself, but I never knew how to take that next step, til you came along,” he smiles up at her, “showed me that it's just a jump, hop, skip over!”

She laughs through the tears he's swiping away from her cheeks, then wraps her arms around his neck as he rubs her waist with his big hands.

“I love you,” he says, pecking her lips.

“I love you, back. So happy I met you and fell in love with you.”

“What a lucky man I am.” He smirks, closing his arms around her, pulling her closer.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm, who wouldn't wanna be loved by you.” He says, matter of factly.

“Says the sweetest man in the whole land! Them scallywags messed up when they threw you back, but I got ya now!” She cackles, making him damn near do the same.

“That's exactly what I'm talking about,” he says through his laughter, “you're something else, girl.”

“I know,” she says with a flip of her hair, pressing kisses to his lips. “And I'm right, too.”

“You got me,” he agrees, nipping at her bottom lip, “couldn't toss me back if you tried!”

“I— never mind,” she stops herself and laughs softly.

“What?”

“Nothing, just bein’ nasty,” she lowly speaks, lowering her eyes from his lips to the collar of his shirt.

“Mm, whatchu need, baby? Look at me.” He says, watching her wondering pupils find his steady ones.

“I uh, I need you.” She simply says, chewing on her lip as she feels how hard he already is against her belly.

Without another word, he carries her down the hall to his room, kicking the door closed just in case vday woke up early from her nap.

His buttery sweet kisses melt the little bit of clothes she had on to the floor, leaving her exposed and at his mercy.

Kneeling before the masterpiece that she is, he grabs her thighs to pull her closer to him and all but shoves his face between her legs.

Her hands rush to his grown out curls as his slippery tongue rolls through her wetness. Those breathy gasps hitting the ceiling above her.

“B-baby,” she whimpers, tossing her head back.

“Mmmmm,” he groans against her, flicking his tongue against her clit as she squirms in his grasp.

“I– I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!” She whines, mouth dropping open as he drags his tongue around and around and around and…

“Fuckkk!”

“Mmmhm, let it out baby…” he moans, far from done as he continues to make her leak down her ass and into his mouth.

“Okayokayokay!” She all but kicks him away after her fourth nut, pressing her hand to the thumping between her thighs.

“Mm-mm, c'mere girl,” climbing on top of her, his lips are back on hers, melting her into the mattress as he sinks into her warmth.

“I missed you,” comes from his lips once he comes up for air, laying his face in her sweet smelling neck.

“I missed you t-too…. fuck,” she whispers back, holding onto him for dear as he dives deep into her with every stroke.

The smell of sex lingers in the air, as they get more and more lost in each other, in a moment so intimate and precious.

Nothing but yes rolls off her tongue as the sensations rush through her, threatening to steal her soul right from her chest.

“Feels good, baby?”

“Yes, so good, yess baby,” she cries out, reaching down to grip his hips and pull him deeper.

“Ohh, like that?” He teases.

“Uh-huh, j-justtt like that!”

“Mmm, this what you needed, huh baby?”

“You.. have no idea,” she breathlessly responds, “p-please fuck me!”

“I got you, baby.”

Speeding up, he's damn near slamming his dick into her, stuck on the way the whites of her eyes are all he can see, those sweet moans getting caught in her throat.

His heavy hand wraps around and squeezes, making her return the gesture in between her legs.

“Fuck… wish I'd set my camera up, baby.. got you delirious on this dick,” he coos.

“It feels so– so good, babyyy!” She squeaks out, jerking forward.

“You cummin’?”

“Yes, don't stop!”

“Get that shit baby, I ain't stoppin’,” he grunts, staring down at the mess between them, salivating at the sight of her covering him in cream.

“Oooh, Leon,” she whines, her hands scanning his broad chest and shoulders, feeling the heat travel up from her toes to her head.

“Zora, Zora, Zora,” he groans, laying his weight on her, digging even deeper than before, his grinding turning desperate.

“I love you, baby,”

“I love you, I love you,” she whines, not even knowing what she was saying anymore. Whatever kept him right there.

“Right here? You gon cum with me?”

“Yes, yessss!”

Their breathing turns jagged as their peaks hit simultaneously, pulling them both under the tidal wave of pleasure.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿°•∘✿

“You look absolutely stunning! Damn, I feel bad for Leon,” Nique says with a snicker, strapping up her heels.

“Girl, leave my man alone!” Zora laughs. “You shoulda seen him this morning! Kept on peeking around the corner to see what I was up to! He's so funny.”

“Like the lovesick puppy he is,” Nique cackled, stopping in the doorway to strike a pose.

“How do I look?”

“You look so good, girl! I'm loving the fur cuffs!”

“Thank you, they're my favorite part! That, and this pony!” She says, flipping it for good measure.

“Gotta have whip appeal like Regine!” Zora agrees as they slap hands, moving out of the bathroom and into the living area.

“Alright, ima go show Leon how good I look and then we can get on the road!”

“Alright, no hanky panky! We got thirty minutes!”

“I hear ya,” she says, slipping out the door and back into her own apartment, where Leon was waiting on the couch, camera in hand.

“Uh oh, there she go!” He shouts, making her giggle up a storm and strike several poses as the camera ticks away, capturing her in one of her many golden moments.

“My god, you look amazing baby. Is this midnight blue?” He asks, running his hand over the velvet material of her dress once she comes closer.

“Thank you, sugar! And yes, it's gorgeous isn't it? Hits the light so pretty!” She squeals as he twirls her around.

“I hope you have a wonderful time tonight, my dear. I'm so proud of you.” He kisses her lips three times.

“I'm glad I put on just a little bit of makeup,” she frowns, wiping under her eyes, “thank you so much, Avery. That means so much to me.”

“Anything for my poppy,” he winks, making her swoon.

“Let me get outta here before I start something,” she laughs, watching Leon grab her clutch and hold out his free hand.

“Wouldn't let you miss out on your big night,” he smiles, walking her out to meet Nique at her car after she kisses vday goodbye.

“Come on lovebirds, we gotta hit the road!” Nique playfully shouts through the cracked window.

“I'll catch you later if you aren't too tired,” he says, kissing her once more.

“I've always got energy for you,” she smiles, adding an extra switch in her walk as they round the car, him helping her inside like the gentleman he is.

“You ladies have fun, call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, lank! Catch ya later!”

He waves them bye before heading back inside to check on vday, who's sprawled out in her car bed, her little purrs sounding.

He fondly shakes his head as he grabs his camera and goes through the pictures he'd taken of Zora.

She finally looked completely happy, and he couldn't be more ecstatic for her.

He didn't understand how her last man was jealous of such talent and beauty, because he was in complete awe of her, regardless of what she was doing.

He'd gotten an idea a couple days ago to make a study of her, through photos. Kind of like Masahisa Fukase, without the crippling obsession.

He was so in love with her radiance, how funny she is, her aura and how it drew any and everybody in. She was selective with herself, and he loves how he wasn't an exception to her rules. She stands firm on everything she says and does.

Uploading the photos to his folder, he clicks over to his digital photo album to figure out how he was going to place them.

He could be at this all night.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿°•∘✿

Zora and Nique were networking it up in the most lavish hall they'd ever been in!

Last minute jitters had faded with her second shot of rum, and she was feeling more confident about being on display, even on a small level.

She had gotten so used to being behind the scenes and tucked away, it was foreign to be thrown back into that world after so long, but she was doing better than she realized.

“Roni is definitely getting a thank you basket from me,” Nique says with a laugh.

“Having fun, huh?”

“Yes! If these white men keep eyeing me, ima make them pay for my tuition and pocket Darnell’s money, instead!”

“Now you know that's wrong!” She cackles at her friend.

“Like he wouldn't give it to me,” she says before making a face.

“Ladies! Don't you two look fantastic!” Fran practically yells over the jazz playing through the space, as she sashays over in her dark red ensemble.

“Uh oh, hot mama alerts!” Zora whistles as the rest of her art group rushes over, looking absolutely stunning.

Compliments are traded, while a server comes over with celebratory flutes of champagne.

“Cheers!”

“Aw cute! Little strawberries at the bottom!” Leia squeals, sipping the gold liquid.

“I kinda wish this was rum now,” Nique sighs, making the women laugh.

“My bad,” she laughs to herself. “Y'all ever had rum cake??”

“First time I had some, I was on my ass!” Roni answers.

“That stuff is strong! I haven't had any in years!”

“It's delicious, though!”

“Wild, wild times were had with that stuff!”

“Oh, did you guys see the investors? They're in wonderful, spending moods tonight!”

“I hope that means good things for us! They can lift my paintings up and out, I've got my originals!” Leia exclaims.

“Same! I'd love to sell something of mine this year!

“Did y'all offer up a painting for sale, tonight?” Nique asks.

“Actually, they went through our portfolios and picked from there. We're not even sure what the pieces are, yet!” Dina answers.

“Well, when do we figure that out? It's been like three hours of mingling, and if I can't catch a boyfriend, I would love to catch a check!”

“Frannie, you keep us young!” Roni laughs, “I'll go check in and see what's happening on their side.”

“Speaking of boyfriends, how's that hardworking man of yours?”

“He's doing good, still transitioning from routine to a more freeing pace, but it's like second nature from where I'm standing!”

“You think he's still up, editing?” Nique asks.

“Well, it's gonna be ten soon, so if anything he's wrapping it up.. maybe,” she laughs, “he can get carried away.”

And carried away with the wind, he was.

Built a whole separate portfolio just for Zora and her beauty. Spent the last three hours organizing them, titling each one with something too cheesy to read out loud.

He definitely had to take a screen break or his eyes were gonna crust over, plus vday was never not hungry. But he was still going strong.

He was literally the cutest boyfriend ever.

“Good news, they're about to make their selections for the evening!” Roni says as she rushes back over.

“Oh, good! My feet are killing me!” Trina exclaims, making them laugh.

“I told you not to wear ‘em!” Her sister said, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she replied without missing a beat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?” The announcer taps the mic as the music lowers and chatter ceases.

“I want to thank you all for coming out tonight and celebrating art and its creators. It means the world to us that we still have a place in this world to show our talents and appreciation for self expression. It takes courage to pick up a brush and paint the world as you see fit. So, congratulations to all of you.”

Applause fills the space as the mic is handed over to the group of investors, the lead being the same man they'd had the pleasure of meeting with a week prior.

“Yes, congratulations to everyone. Now, we've sat and mulled over which pieces to snag from this list and let me tell ya, it was not easy. There is some major talent in everyone's portfolio, we wanted to buy everything! But we definitely wanted to make sure that every last one of you got your time to shine, a moment we all deserve. So without further ado, we unveil our selection.”

Behind them, a curtain drops and fifteen prints stare back at the crowd, full size and in color. And it's as if time stood still.

“Oh my god,” Fran gasps, “that's my garden! My beautiful garden!”

“And my self portrait!” Roni adds.

“Oh my gosh, it's sunflower girl! Zora, look!!” Nique squeals, pointing happily at the picture.

“I… I haven't seen her in a while,” she smiles, blinking back tears. “I can't believe they bought my first baby.”

“I've always loved that piece! I'm so proud of you!” She squeals again, hugging her friend tight.

“Thank you! I don't know how to feel right now,” she laughs, wiping her tears away.

“Need another drink?”

“Or two!”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿°•∘✿

Slinking into the house an hour or so later, Zora bumps around til she finds the light switch, illuminating her kitchen so she can dig around in her fridge for something quick.

Grapes it is.

She pops a couple rinsed ones into her mouth as Vday waltzes over and stops at her feet, her sweet green peering up at her.

“You are so cute,” she whines, scooping her up in her free hand and heading into her bedroom, where Leon is sleeping at her desk.

Thankfully his laptop wasn't still on, showcasing the hard work he'd put in all night. That was his surprise.

“Leon, I know that position isn't comfy,” she snorts, poking his shoulders, making him jolt up, startling both her and vday.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers, clearing his throat as he looks up at his two favorite girls.

“It's okay,” she whispers back, giggling as he stretches and yawns.

“How was the gala, beautiful?”

“It was amazing! Something very emotional and exciting happened!”

“Can you share it with me?”

“I can!! They selected fifteen prints for purchase and they bought my first ever painting!” She squeals, sounding like Nique from earlier.

“Baby, that's incredible! I'm so happy for you!” He jumps up from the chair and wraps her up in a sweet hug, vday’s purring making them laugh.

“She's happy for mama, too!” He adds, swaying them from side to side once she jumps out of Zora’s hand.

“I cried like a baby!”

“I bet you did! That's huge!” He exclaimed, pulling back to look at her, her bloodshot eyes still burning from earlier.

“I'm proud of me,” she cheeses.

“You should always be proud of yourself, poppy. There's nothing you can't do.” He says, kissing her nose and then her lips.

“Thank you for believing in me. It's definitely something special when you have someone who sees you as everything you've ever wanted to be.”

“How many drinks have you had? You've gone sappy,” he jokes, making her cackle.

“Don't ruin the mood, Avery!”

“Nah, I'm playin’, but I'm always your number two fan, only cause Nique would cut me if I said number one,” he jokes again, still earning giggles from her.

“I'm glad you know how she gets down.”

“Mmmhm, I love my life,” he responds, making her push away from him, still laughing.

“I have to pee,” she says, scurrying down the hall.

He chuckles, before pushing the chair in and sitting down on the bed, searching the bed for his phone to check the views on his video.

It was steady climbing, which made him feel accomplished.

“Still got energy to burn?” She asks as she re-enters the room, her jacket and dress are now replaced by a deep green nightgown that stops above her thighs.

Locking his phone, he salivates at the sight of her. 

“Always, c'mere, girl.”

A/n: it's been a minute since I put out a chapter and some of yall actually missed this sweet ass story so thank y'all for fuel to finish this up! Enjoy!!

@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @blackerthings @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @henneseyhoe @honestpreference @blackpinup22 @abeautifulmindexposed @nayaxwrites @twistedcharismaaa @kindofaintrovert

@sageispunk @soufcakmistress

@starcrossedxwriter @slippinninque

[changingplumbob]

Second Round - Day Two (BB) 1 of 3

@belsasim, @corrienteallita, @cawthorntales, @hashimasims, @ravingsockmonkey, @pixeldistractions

Reflection on Progress: Well...I know they say 'If you're not first, you're last' but I'm not last. There are some big personalities here and I need to do more to stand out in Round 2. Maybe I should slap Deanna, because Callie's doing better than I am! Sorry, did that sound a bit jealous? I mean, maybe I am...

Dee: I don't really know anyone in my new group, other than what I've seen or heard from other contestants. I hear Dee is a hothead so I hope we can get off on the right foot!

Harmony: Harmony seems like such a peacemaker. She's so interested in cats, she doesn't have time for petty human dramas. I respect that about her and I think we'll get along talking about kittens or animal art.

Kaye: I like her sense of humour! She seems like a fun person to know; I hope she likes to talk about art!

Mariela: Mariela is so interesting, but I wonder if maybe I'm too serious for her? I guess we'll see, but I hope we get along great!

Sarah: Sarah and I can bond over being at the back of the pack. Either that or she's really my closest competition in the villa this round...I don't know if that means we'll be friends or fierce competitors, but she dumped her girlfriend to be here - that sounds like someone in it to win it...if they're not a total flake.

Reflection on Progress: It's only round one, we have no clue how it's going to go from here on out. Although it does seem like Lara's head start is keeping her solidly ahead of the pack...

Billie: I have a feeling she's going to leave her mark this round.

Harmony: Seems like a typical crazy cat lady to me. Not a bad thing to be, I'd just like to see her break the mold.

Kaye: I was so sure she was a vampire, but that's a lesson to me in making too many snap judgements. I've learned since then that we have a lot in common, and I respect her.

Mariela: She could stand to be a little more grounded. But maybe she has some hidden depth that will surprise me.

Sarah: I can't keep track of all the geeks to be honest. She seems cool, I guess?

Reflection on Progress: I feel good about it. I feel I could have done better, but I am happy to still be here.

Billie: I think there's more to her than meets the eye. I'm interested to see if I am right.

Dee: I'm excited to see what makes her tick. 

Kaye: I feel she is one to keep a close eye on this competition. 

Mariela: I'm still trying to get a feel for her. 

Sarah: She's interesting that's for sure!

Reflection on Progress: I made it through which is good but maybe I should have tried a bit harder at romancing Deanna instead of trying to build our friendship first. I'll just have to do better this second round.

Billie: I want to hear about Billie's art! How could Evergreen Harbor think all street art is graffiti?! I'm more of a Music Lover but I can enjoy a decent conversation about all kinds of art.

Dee: I'm so glad Dee is in my group again! It'll be nice to meet new people but I feel better knowing there's a familiar face around.

Harmony: I do want to be Harmony's friend, I don't want to dislike anyone, but I can't help wondering if she had some sort of unfair pull with production during the cast challenge. I mean how fair is it that the Cat Lover was placed in the cat room at the shelter?

Mariela: Mariela seems really funny and with the little I was able to interact with her on cast day in the dog group I think we could be fast friends.

Sarah: Sarah and I both won the video game challenge and she's an avid gamer so I'm hoping she can help hone my gaming skills, just in case there's another similar challenge. Can't let these skills get rusty.

Reflection on Progress: Wow, wow, wow! I can't believe I did as well as I did! I'm glad that I've been able to make some friends as well.

Billie: I love her green hair, and she's living in my hometown! I wonder if she'd be willing to show me some of her sketches?

Dee: Dee's a maker, right? I'm curious what kind of stuff she makes.If she fabricates, then maybe I'll see if she can fabricate some sweet double rainbow wall art for me. Not for free obviously! Support your local artists!

Harmony: I've got some cat pictures and memes saved up to share with her, and I hope she enjoys them. That cat wanting the cheeseburger is a CLASSIC!

Kaye: I kind of want to know more about her family, but I imagine she gets asked about that a lot. Maybe she can tell me about some of her adventures? She seems to have had a rather wild life!

Sarah: Sarah was in my last group! She's a lot of fun and is a great gamer. I hope I can play Party Frenzy with her at some point!

Reflection on Progress: I think I might be in the friend zone. 😬 But that’s okay, "friends to lovers" is a trope for a reason! Don’t count me out, yet!

Mariela: A familiar face! She's doing really well in the challenge, so that's a little intimidating. But she's fun, so I hope to get over that feeling so I can have an ally in the house

Billie/Dee/Harmony/Kaye: Honestly can't say I have a strong impression of the others, one way or another, other than they seem nice enough to share a house with. Let's see how this goes!

[siri-ike]

Empty, chapter 3

A dp x dc crossover fic

P.S. if you notice a spelling errors in any of my posts, please let me know so i can fix them.

Chapter 1 chapter 2

It's hard to tell how long they were sliding for. It felt like ages, yet only a moment. It felt like they had become friends, though they had never spoken. He didn't even know what her life had been like, why she had run away or why she chose this day. He only knew that he wanted to help her. And if that meant leaving all that conflict behind, so be it. He can find more elsewhere.

Eventually, they stopped at a far away park. The sun had gotten low enough that no matter where you looked, you had a 50% chance of being blinded. He made sure to drop her in a patch of grass so as not to hurt her. She was quick to get up and run into the park. Didn't even question the ice. He supposed he could leave her to her plans, but it's not like he had any of his own. So he followed.

All the way to the other side of the park where an officer picked her up like a wet cat. She kicked and scratched, but her limbs simply weren't long enough.

"Out late, are we? Do your parents know where you are, Maggie?" He asked, not putting her down.

Maggie? Oh, right, that other guy called her Margaret before. They must know each other.

"Let's take a look in that bag, shall we?" He took the bag and dropped her to the ground.

"NO! NO! It's mine! You can't have it!" She screamed desperately, trying to reach it. And that's enough. He swooped towards the cop and then through him. Leaving him half frozen, holding her bag. Now that he was still, she could jump up and grab it.

The sun was setting by the time she stopped running. They were at a train station underground. Light barely made it in to outline every surface with an orange glow.

The girls shadow got fainter the deeper into the tunnels they went. And it almost looked as though he had one of his own.

She stopped at a rusty old train cart. She had to put her bag down in order to force the door open. The inside looked like a museum. Everything had been taken out to make room for plastic cases full of jewelry like broaches, necklaces, and earrings, but also things like cutlery, candle holders, shiny wrapping paper. Most of the stuff here looks worthless.

Oh, no.

He was helping a thief. Worse than that, he was helping a kleptomaniac. Was that officer trying to help? Did she steal from the guy who was yelling before? Stupid. How could he be so stupid?!

Klank!

He looked down to the source of the sound. A menorah had fallen to the ground. The sound echoed through the train car and down both tunnels. Who steals a menorah? Sam would be furious.

A better question is: who is Sam?

His gaze wanders back to the girl, surprised to see she's looking at him too.

She just stares at him. Not directly. More so at his torso area. He tries moving over but her eyes follow, sort of. He looks behind him, and there it is.

His shadow. It looks human. Like if a person were just floating in the air. But, that can't be. He's not-

"you're not real." Her voice is much smaller this time. "you're just a filament of my imagination" She insisted, unconvincingly.

"Ok, even I know it's figment, and I'm one of the dumbest people I know." He floats lower. "But, you're right. I'm not real." He sits down on the cold metal train floor. "I might have been once. A long time ago. Sometimes I can see people, in my mind. they're blurry. But they're always the same ones." He lets out a breath of cold air. "A boy with glasses and a girl wearing all black. Those two are usually together when I picture them. Then there's a taller girl with red hair, she feels so warm even though I can't touch her. Then there's a man and a woman, he's big and square and she smells like oil, all the time." He brings his knee to his chest. "I'm not sure if they were real either. Maybe I just made them up." He curls up, trying to hide what would be tears if he could produce them. "Sometimes I, I-" he pauses to gather the courage to confess.

"I hope I made them up."

For a moment, he sits there. Letting the guilt consume him. But after a while with no response. He looks up.

The whole train car is frozen. Icicles have grown from the ceiling the display cases are incased in layers upon layers of ice.

And an 8 year old girl stands in front of him. With a look of horror, permanently carved on her face.

Chapter 4

[callme-holly]

Rusty James with a very feminine/soft reader!?!????! I’m talking pink everywhere, dresses 24/7, the whole shebang.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 [𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: ummmm... i love this? more rusty james requests plsplsplsplspls

Rusty James never thought he’d fall for someone like you, someone who looks like they’re fresh out of some kind of fairy tale, all pretty in pink and adorned in lace, your hair curled perfectly, everything about you just sweet. 

Never in a million years would he have imagined himself here, lying with you in your room, sprawled out on your silk, floral bedsheets, his head in your lap whilst you run your fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp like he’s some kind of cat. 

His skin is littered with gradually blossoming bruises, shades of purples and reds standing stark against his complexion; his lip is bloodied and split, but he finds the metallic taste flooding his mouth has little to no effect on him. Not when he’s here, with you.

He shifts slightly, pressing instinctively closer. You’re too good for him—far too good. Too soft for such a rough guy.

“You shouldn’t fight so much,” you whisper, your voice gentle and filled with a sweetness that makes him melt. “You’ll get yourself into trouble one day.”

He cracks open an eye, glancing up at you with an amused smirk. “I already do get introuble, doll” —but you cut him off with a quick shake of your head.

“No, Rusty… I mean real trouble.” You don’t need to say much more; you’re terrified he’s gong to get his head bashed in, get shot or killed, or thrown into juvie like so many other greasers…

“I’m fine…” he shrugs, but it’s clear that your words have a deeper effect on him. “I can handle myself.” But, can he? He’s just a kid. Just a kid who thinks he has to prove himself to the world. What business does he have fighting in the streets and stirring up trouble whenever he can?

“I don’t like it, baby…” You coo, and he almost feels like a child in the way you’re talking to him. “I don’t like you crawlin’ back here with your face bloodied…” 

Rusty James lets out a long sigh, swallowing heavily and letting his eyes slip shut. The smell of your perfume surrounds him, the lace of your nightdress soft against his skin, and he melts under your touch.

“It doesn’t hurt…” he whispers, a weak attempt to brush off your concern. It’s a lie, of course; everything hurts like hell, but he won't ever admit that. “I’ll live.” “But what if one day you don’t?” The question is blunt, devoid of anything but an anxiety that shows you’ve thought the question over hundreds of times. 

“What?” 

“What if one day you don’t come back to me?” You repeat, like the thought physically pains you. The movement of your fingers in his hair falters for a second. “What if you pick a fight with the wrong guys?”

He’s silent; no amount of words would ever make up a good enough answer, because you were right. But saying it out loud, admitting it, would make it all feel too real… So instead he just shakes his head, flashing you a teasing smile and leaning up to kiss you. 

“You’re such a worrier…” he mumbles against your lips. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.

“Rusty…” you start, but he cuts you off with another kiss, not wanting to hear anything more.

“Come on, baby. Quit bein’ so… concerned. You’ll get frown lines…” He reaches up to smooth the faint furrow in your brow, titling his head slightly. 

You’re too pretty for him; too genuinetiltingeal… Like some sort of angel. 

He settles back against you, letting out a long sigh, and you say no more, getting the hint. You resume stroking his hair once more, letting him revel in the comfort of your room, no matter how pink it may be, making him stick out like a sore thumb.

“I love you…” you whisper, and Rusty James stays quiet. Because he isn’t used to being needed by someone. And the thought scares him.

“Yeah,” he settles for. “I know…” 

[elders-rps]

Maki. *she’s holding her cat in her arms* I swear to god I’m going to stop saving you from people if that’s what happens. Where are we anyways?

- @trists-rp-blog, Mocha and Maki

You seem to have ended up in front of an abandoned, overgrown academy with a rusty bell in front... this place seems like it used to be constantly filled with students, but not anymore...

The rest of this... village? City? Is bustling with activity, as expected. Two younger people, one with a staff, the other with a wand of sorts, are walking around, reading a scroll...

[sosoribro]

haha starlight express oc go chuggachuggachuggachuggachuggachugga

her lore is that she used to be part of a circus train until they replaced her with a new car

her job was to transport the animals

but now shes sort of just here. on the yard. and she feels kinda lost cuz she feels like she doesnt really fit in with the others

she's a freight car but she knows she wouldnt really belong on the freight train

she tries to talk to the coaches but again she isnt like them because well. freight. but i think they would like her pretty lights and cute kitty

she has considered getting herself repurposed but doesnt want to let go of herself

but its okay she has two entire friends (rusty & dustin) and she has momma (or poppa) and she has peanut (he is her cat)

but she still feels sad and alone

she is quite literally a poor little meow meow born in a wet cardboard box all alone

shes sort of friends with flat-top in the sense that his way of comforting her is him saying "right up you get we're gonna need your help with this 'cos we've got the weight of a hundred flippin' elephants to carry around today"

rusty tells her that she should just stay true to herself and not care about what others think

she would try to open up but then accidentally speak in a limerick or something

[qin-qin16]

Harsh like a cat's tongue

Summary: All Color had to do was turn his back for Killer and Delta to jump on each other's vertebrae, but things ended up getting out of control in this not-so-friendly game.

words: 1.4k

cw: Color x Killer, queer platonic relationship, hurt/comfort, Killer is our favorite punching bag, Delta is here, but not for the comfort part, violence (the girls are fighting!), protective Color… 

note: Consider this a belated birthday present. Happy birthday again @howlsofbloodhounds! Hope you enjoy this one (since it was inspired by one of your posts lol)

"Look, I won’t be able to be by your side all the time, so try not to get into trouble, okay? I can sort it all out later, just… don’t start anything.” He can almost feel Color’s fingertips gently brushing down his face, cleaning the remnants of black lines left around his eye sockets.

The words echo in Killer's mind, and he barely registers the same sweet, patient tone from Color that he first heard. So why? Why is Killer ignoring this simple request? Is it just for fun? Or is he indifferent to the impending danger because he misses that despair?

Yes, he grins, perhaps that’s the reason. 

Killer barely manages to dodge the punch Delta throws close to his face. It’s clear that Killer must be rusty, as he didn’t notice the orange figure as easily as he used to.

Color may have eased his defenses, but that doesn’t mean the others — especially the other Sanses — will be equally merciful with him. Not after everything he has done.

“Over my dead body! I’ll kill you before you even think about living here!” Another punch is thrown in his direction. Luckily, this time he manages to dodge it more effectively, paying closer attention to Delta’s aggressive and impulsive attacks.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to step over a pile of dust,” Killer retorted, his mocking smile widening further at Delta’s furious snarl. 

They had been in this aggressive dance for a while now, and although Killer felt his bones vibrating with excitement and his magic simmering with anticipation, he continued to focus solely on dodging. It was unusual for him to be on the defensive side, rather than the attacker.

But no less fascinating.

“Ha! You’re the one who’ll end up as a pile of dust!” Delta, too, seemed to be enjoying the furious dance between them, even if all that hatred was coming from him alone.

As for Killer, the round target on his chest made it clear that this was all just an experiment for his amusement: how much longer could Delta tolerate Killer’s presence in the Omega Timeline?

The results were hardly surprising. As soon as Color left, they both went at each other's throats, or at least tried to. Until then, they hadn’t made physical contact — only attacking and dodging in tight circles, confined to the small area around them.

“I wonder what Color would think if he saw his little friend beating up his roommate. Poor little Color,” Killer said with a scoff, raising a barrier of bones just in time to deflect Delta’s kick. Without the blue magic, it would have definitely landed squarely on his ribs.

“It’s not like he’ll miss Nightmare’s pet!” Delta sneered, watching Killer’s smile waver. “What’s wrong? Did I hit a nerve?” He chuckled.

How could Color be friends with someone like this? As Killer pondered this, a gap in Delta’s defense suddenly appeared. Seeing an opportunity for an easy defeat, Killer summoned one of his bones behind the skeleton with orange gloves, poised for Delta to make a mistake and impale himself on it.

How could Color be friends with someone like this? Color. Color's friend. As the thought crossed his mind, the newly summoned bone vanished in an instant, leaving behind only a brief wisp of gray smoke.

Killer staggered back, still bewildered by his own instinct to consider the consequences of Delta’s death. Would Color forgive him, or would he see him as the ruthless killer everyone claims he is? Before Killer could dwell on the question, the tip of Delta’s shoe struck his jaw with a sharp impact.

“Don’t be daydreaming on me now!” That was the last thing Killer heard before a hellish buzzing filled his head, mingling with Delta’s harsh curses and death threats.

Killer didn’t even attempt to brace himself as he fell, accepting the inevitable impact with the dirt floor. Delta was clearly someone you couldn’t afford to let your guard down around, not even for a moment.

He felt something lodged in his throat and, struggling, began to cough. He turned his face to the side, spitting out the vile black goo onto the floor, along with what little dignity he had left. The buzzing in his skull persisted, a relentless, irritating monotone like the beeping of a dead heart monitor.

Piiiiiiiiiiii

It echoed and echoed, filling his mind with its insistent, rhythmic drone.

Even without the single eye light in one of his eye sockets, Killer felt the pain twisting through him, spreading from his jaw and radiating through his skull like a slow, agonizing shock. For a moment, everything went dark. Then, the faint glow of his soul illuminated his vision, casting everything in a crimson red.

Before his vision fully returned, Killer first felt something on his face — an unknown gentleness, caressing and touching him like he was made of glass. He tried to speak, to push it away, feeling he didn’t deserve the pity of whatever was comforting him. But all that escaped his teeth were a few incoherent grunts.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” a voice assured him gently, urging him to stay quiet.

Killer felt all his bones relax instantly, and his soul, which had been twisting in agony, finally settled in front of his chest. He recognized that voice, so sweet and familiar.

“What happened to you?” Color murmured, carefully wiping the black streak that dripped from between Killer’s teeth, as if even the slightest touch might cause him pain.

Don't talk to me like that, Killer hissed in his mind. Don’t be gentle after I broke your promise.

“Shit, Color, I ca-”

“Shut up.” Killer had never heard Color growl with such controlled intensity, as if he were suppressing a hidden rage to avoid frightening Killer more (even though that anger wasn’t directed at him).

“I don’t want to hear a single word from you, or I’ll say things I’ll regret later.” Killer’s vision shifted from a yellow light to a brief flash of orange, before settling into a soothing light blue.

He then realizes that the light is coming from the fervent flames emerging from Color’s skull, casting a beautiful display of colors that illuminates both his face and the surrounding area.

Killer didn’t hear any response from Delta; he was either as stunned by Color’s aggressive stance or had simply decided to comply with the harsh order. Either way, Killer didn’t care. What mattered was seeing Color’s eye light focused on him only, carefully scanning for any additional injuries on his face.

“Can you talk to me, Killer? Please?” The aggressive tone from before melted away, replaced by a pleading and patient voice — the one Killer knew so well.

Wanting to reassure him, Killer managed a smirk, despite the pain in his jaw and numbness on his tongue, “I’ll survive— ouch!”

He chuckled, “Heh, if you’re already talking nonsense, then it can’t have been that bad,” Color said, half-jokingly, though his voice carried a note of genuine concern.

Killer simply grunted as Color’s hand moved to his spine, traveling down to his shoulder blades before helping him into a more comfortable sitting position.

Even though he turned his face away, trying to hide the shame he felt for disobeying Color’s "order" — even though, deep down, Killer knew it was just a request — he couldn’t help but imagine the disappointed expression on Color’s face.

“Look, I know I messed up, okay? You don’t have to look at me like that…” he whispered, fearful and aware of the consequences he might face for ignoring such a simple request as avoiding a f-

“It’s alright,” Color said, with a calmness that surprised Killer. He looked back to see concern in Color’s eye and the blue flames on top of his skull glowing more gently. “We’ll talk about this later. First, we need to take care of you, okay?”

Killer trusted those words completely. He allowed himself to be comforted by Color’s promises, lightly headbutting Color’s face as a simple, silent apology.

He felt Color’s hand give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, as if he understood Killer’s remorse — not for getting into the fight or for getting hurt, but for breaking one of the few promises he had made to Color.

“We’ll talk later, Delta. Don’t even think about running away from me.” Killer couldn’t help but smile smugly, imagining Delta’s anxious expression, clearly terrified of the lecture he would face later.

Tagging the people who want to throw rocks at me for this

@toffeebrew @unamzi @what-have-i-unleashed

[sporeclan]

oh! Crowstar getting a vision from StarClan is sort of a big deal, isn’t it?? Will that be important later??? 👀

If the RNG wills it, then maybe! I do have in mind what they were trying to say, but it's not clear to Crowstar yet because the connection is still so scattered. It's like the vision version of picking up random radio signals on a walkietalkie, if that makes sense!

I can give you two, as a treat!

- Fennel grew up as a barn cat far away from SporeClan territory, until he met his future mate and joined her group when they were passing through the area. He was about 15 ish moons at the time

- Because of his upbringing in a barn, he somewhat understands dog, cow and human speech! Though he's pretty rusty in all of those by now :')

I basically just started a clan and picked the least amount of cats clangen lets you start with (I believe that's 7?), and then just made up a backstory for why they were alone.

I've also seen a lot of others start with just one or two cats too, and if you wanna do that, you would have to start the clan with 7 like normal, and then manually go through each cat and uh. send them off so to say in their settings until you're left with one or two!

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 2 [PART 2]

Every time someone says this in this franchise, you should immediately raise 20 red flags because one of the reoccurring themes is "by thinking that you're good and that your intentions are good, so whatever you do is good, you doom yourself to doing evil" or something.

THERE IS SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT HERE....

He's standing on his toes. For some reason, he did not want to take, idk... something to stand on.

The place is still a grabage dump. He's still the good old Jojo we know.

He has a lot more books. Also, quite conspicuously, the shelf that has them shields what used to be his wall of celebrity posters and drawings. lol.

So many plushies... on one hand, it's so cute. The facade of professionalism he had before we knew him well is long gone by now. On the other hand, when coupled with the general infantilization of him by Kerubim and Atcham, it kinda.... feels bad.

He has a new ladder for his bed that doesn't have splinters and rusty nails sticking out of it. He probably bought it himself due to there being No Hope in Kerubim Crepin.

Also, his hobby of cartography is acknowledged once more, considering the parchments that are lying everywhere.

Another thing that feels Vaguely Bad is that we've come a long way from "I'M NOT A KID ANYMORE, STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS, STOP CALLING ME JOJO!" to "I don't give a shit anymore. Call me anything you want... feels kinda nice too... :)"

The brain poisoning is so major with Joris. No hope for him.

Anyway, it's funny that they just call Ush The Sleazebag. Implies he's a thorn in their side enough of the time for them to actually have a nickname.

God, his room is so trashy. He's just like me fr....

"Let's kill Tot with Hammers" moment #3: They forgor to animate his mouth... where did they even PUT all that money they saved by reusing art made for the movie.

I'm pretty sure that there's like, some translation mistakes here.

This is what he says in French: "Is your dealings/drama/beef with the Sibllings over?" and technically this translation is correct... but, the phrasing of the translation is misleading.

There are two brotherhoods in the series: the forgotten, and of tofu. But in French the words used for both are different: La Confrérie du Tofu, and La Fratrie des Oubliés.

So I am 80% sure what Joris is actually asking is, "Are you finished with the Brotherhood of the Forgotten? Or are you here to fight me?"

When Ush responds with "it all died down" he's kinda making a joke about Oropo, and their whole group being... yeah. fdjgskdfg. And the translation of this line is also not really conveying it.

This is why Joris continues by confirming that Ush isn't involved.

If Ush is no longer a part of a doomsday cult, then he's probably not a danger or connected to this.

He gets so heated once Yugo is mentioned... I am once again reminding you, that Joris likes Yugo a lot.

In this shot, there on the shelf, we can see the woven basket cat bed that Joris slept in as a child and which migrated to be a basket for clothes in the movie after he actually got a real bed.

The Ush grindset:

Come to Joris's house to say that the guy he's parasocially besties with is sus and that his mom hurt the 12 gods. Say you won't get involved & don't give a shit. Leave.

Yeah, yeah, Ush is a bontarian, he likes being heroic and doesn't want the world to be destroyed or something, but it was also 100% some sort of a fucky-wucky mindgame against Joris.