#And like I mentioned in the text I feel like Fizz is the type of stubborn little s that will try to be the definition of independence unles

[fizzie-frog]

K k but consider this: Asmodeus taking care of Fizz when his health acts up and struggles to take care of himself (and we know Fizz is a stubborn little gremlin who most likely would try to take care by himself unless he's literally like dying or something).

[astarlightmonbebe]

the appeal of yeojeong as a normal guy who’s just a little bit off. not enough that you would notice when talking to him, of course, but it’s just there, under the surface. a disturbance. and i think it’s interesting because typically you have two types of guys somewhat adjacent to this: guy who seems totally normal but is secretly sadistic/a psychopath, and then guy haunted by a traumatic/troubled past, who has that secret layer of torment running beneath the surface of their image. but yeojeong breaks through these archetypes, and i think part of it is because he’s just so...calm. it’s not that he’s living a double life (kind doctor by day, killer by night) or hiding part of his past (everyone he worked with knew about what happened to his father, and watched his downward spiral during his college days). he’s not the typical male character who is, at every attempt, trying to outrun his tragic past (even though he does run once or twice); he’s not haunted by flashbacks, or suffer from PTSD in the way that is usually portrayed in dramas. and i think part of that is because the glory is a story about victims. it’s dongeun’s story, first and foremost, even though it is also yeojeong’s story, and hyeonnam’s story, and sohee’s story. but it’s a story about dongeun’s pain, and when it’s not about her pain, it’s just about the pain of victimhood - unlike other dramas, this isn’t a show where male pain outweighs the rest.

so yeojeong is just a normal guy. he’s handsome. he has a good career. he’s a plastic surgeon, an interesting choice when both his parents were/are hospital directors, and his father seemed to have worked in the er or something of the sort prior to his death (or at the very least wasn’t a plastic surgeon). something could be said here of yeojeong choosing the ‘safe’ path as a doctor, a path where he cures pain and makes people happy without the added risk of being attacked by one of his patients. there’s no proof of that in the show - why he chose to be a plastic surgeon - but it’s an interesting thought path to travel. 

dongeun says he must have lived a good life. that he’s never had to worry about the path that he’s on. and that’s true, to a certain extent. to everyone, including her in the beginning, yeojeong is perfectly friendly. he’s perfect, but not the perfect that people perceive as too perfect (i.e. the guy who’s hiding things); he has his moments where he spazzes out, gets into fights, goes crazy over dongeun texting him back, teases his mom. he’s perfectly well adjusted (a perfect contrast to dongeun’s ‘maladjustment’). he wears flip flops to work and gets the same coffee order daily. he plays go with old men in the park.

he likes to listen to the fizzing of vitamin tablets in water because it calms him down. is this a strange thing? only because he thinks it’s important enough to mention to his therapist. he does it at work too - drops the tablet in, closes his eyes, rests his head. he does it at home - drops the tablet in, opens the drawer, draws a knife. it’s about the noise. bubbles rising to the surface, like bubbles rising from underwater. he stays underwater until the last possible moment, when he has to break the surface in order to breath. dongeun makes him feel like he’s at the eye of a storm - a deceptively calm center, while everything else rages outside. and i think it’s kind of important that he makes that comparison, when he’s someone always seeking that calm. the soothing noise, that makes him feel lonely.

so he’s just a normal guy. a normal guy who receives letters on a regular basis from the prisoner who brutally murdered his father. he doesn’t like letters, he tells dongeun. who knows what he does with the letters - does he keep them? does he throw them away as soon as he sees them? he must have read some of them; maybe you only need to read one to know what is in the rest. maybe he’s still reading them; maybe he keeps them without reading, an invisible torment. it’s not what he does with the letters that matters, but that he receives letters at all. 

can you still call it a haunting if you’ve almost made your peace with it? if you’re living with it? 

he’s just a normal guy, who looks his therapist right in the eyes and tells her that she couldn’t fix him. he diligently attends therapy for years on a regular basis, even though it doesn’t work. he finally abandons it when he moves to semyeong, because he chooses to embrace dongeun’s revenge. he chooses his own revenge, too, in a way. the dark part of him that he can’t escape. the one that makes him pick up the knife, who asks dongeun who to kill before she even tells him she wants any of them dead, even when he’s a doctor from a family of doctors, and doctors don’t kill - they save lives instead. 

you couldn’t fix me, he tells his therapist calmly. so calmly. as if there’s not a bloodied man sitting next to him, a man he dreams of killing. the man is just life to him, just like the letters are life to him to. a dulled numbness. an acceptance of it. 

is your son going through hell? can you even tell it’s hell, if it’s what you’ve become used to? is it hell when you’re a doctor dreaming of murder? is it hell to no longer be tormented by dead men and living murderers who send you letters? is it?

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 9.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader  au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov  words; 12,456

warnings/includes (!) Jungkook could flirt with a wall, jealous Seokjin x2, subtle touches, kisses, Oc has Horny Thoughts, way too many thoughts of straddling him – is it hormones or just Seokjin?, a 12-week prenatal appointment, minor weight mentions e.g. hips expanding, boobs getting bigger, Yoonjin interactions, drunk Seokjin, Yoongi the taxi driver 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’ 

↪︎ series index

SEASON TWO ⇤ previous | next ⇥

Phone ready in hand, you were already mentally typing out the text in your head as you approached the AGS building. Seokjin said he would meet you outside at quarter past twelve, but you’d left work too early, or maybe you’d just walked exceptionally fast today. Either way, it was only 12:10 and you were here. 

But so was he. 

As you got closer to the entrance, you recognised his figure leaning against the building. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his hands casually dug inside the pocket of his black slacks. On top he was wearing a blue button up shirt which strained impressively over his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a tie, you realised slowly, and the first two buttons were loose, revealing a small triangle of skin. Maybe he’d taken it off for lunch. 

He was looking out across the street, but as you approached, he turned his head, noticing you before greeting you with the biggest, most breath-taking smile. Your knees felt weak and your stomach fizzed. A similar feeling to drinking too much soda too fast. Was this what it would be like now? It was a few days after you’d spontaneously rushed over to his apartment and apologised. A few days after you’d shared a kiss – or kisses, plural. You hadn’t seen him in person since, but you’d messaged back and forth every day, and he’d called you every evening. 

You’d always been aware of how good-looking Seokjin was, you weren’t blind to his objective beauty, but now that awareness had been heightened to almost unbearable levels. You even felt a little coy as you smiled back, coming to a halt beside him. “I was just about to text you.” 

He lifted himself off the wall, his smile turning crooked, his tone teasing when he responded. “I’ve been stood out here for ten minutes.” You scoffed quietly and slipped your phone back inside your purse. “You look pretty.” 

The casualness of his statement threw you for a moment, but it didn’t stop your face from feeling all hot and prickly. Before you could reply however, he asked how you were. 

“Nervous. Sweating. But that could be because it’s pretty hot out,” you replied honestly, lifting your cardigan by its sides to fan it about, hoping to catch some breeze. It was still spring but the weather was turning. 

Seokjin laughed. “I already told you there’s nothing to be nervous about. Come on.” He pulled a hand out of one pocket to gesture you to follow him inside. “Jungkook isn’t here yet anyway, so you’ll only have to deal with Hoseok for now. He’s the normal one out of the three of us.” 

You pulled an uncertain face but started walking. You had agreed to meet his friends after all. You just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Your nerves had been made worse when you’d found out you’d be having lunch inside Seokjin’s building. Namjoon had been kind enough to grant you an extra hour, shaking his head in mock disproval. “You’re using these boss-friend privileges left and right lately.”

Speaking of work, Sera’s permanent absence was wonderful. The best part was she’d seemed to have taken Seokjin’s warning seriously and disappeared off the face of the earth. Yuna had made you tell the ‘restraining order story’ at least ten times already, embellishing it with her own adlibs and details each time. Things at the office were pretty much back to normal, last week’s blow-up forgotten and your pregnancy conveniently ignored. Almost. You knew a handful of your co-workers were desperate to ask you details, but unfortunately for them, that privilege went to Namjoon only – and Yoongi, slightly. Things with him were still a little awkward, which was to be expected considering everything that had happened, but you were hoping they’d get better. It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty though. You’d bounced back surprisingly easily, and everything seemed to be falling into place for you now, while Yoongi was still very obviously struggling with what had happened. You’d thought about bringing it up with him but in the end stopped yourself. You would bet he didn’t want to dwell on anything, and by continuously talking about it you knew you’d be no help. That, and you wanted to forget about it completely. You wanted to move on with your life and concentrate on you and your baby. And Seokjin… Whatever that meant. 

The front of the AGS building was mostly glass, and from the outside you couldn’t tell how many floors it was. It was quadruple the size of Artkive’s building though, and while that was a refurbished warehouse home to a number of separate businesses, this building was entirely dedicated to all of the different AGS departments. The inside was also vastly different you noticed, as you stepped through the doors, the air con hitting you immediately, cool and refreshing. The office space at work was made up of exposed red brick and half windows, but here the interior was sleek and monochrome, the ceilings sky high. The lobby was filled with people, groups dotted around the couches and chairs to the left of the room, either having casual meetings or friendly chats – maybe both. Very quiet music was playing from speakers in the wall, but you couldn’t make out what. To the right was a long reception desk, which Seokjin made a beeline for. You followed, trying to take everything in, feeling a mixture of overwhelmed and awestruck. This place was impressive and you’d barely stepped foot inside. 

There were a few receptionists behind the desk, some on the phone, some preoccupied with employees and visitors. Seokjin addressed the first available one – a young man maybe in his early twenties with red hair and glasses. “I’m going to take a long lunch, so if anyone wants me, tell them I’ll be done by 2.” 

“Will do, Mr. Kim,” the man smiled, his eyes glancing over at you as Seokjin placed a hand on the small of your back and walked you along. In fact, you could sense quite a few pairs of curious eyes on you as he guided you towards an elevator. You pretended not to notice, smiling friendly at anyone you made eye contact with. 

The fine hairs on the back of your neck pricked up when you heard Seokjin’s voice in your ear. “I don’t have many personal visitors here besides Jungkook. I guess I’ll be the topic of many a conversation today.” 

You chuckled, watching him press for the elevator before meeting his eyes. “Am I your mysterious woman?” 

Were you flirting? You couldn’t tell. 

He looked a little bashful, laughing quietly at your remark. Yet, when he replied, his voice was low and teasing. “It would seem so.”

The doors opened and he motioned for you to step in first. Still feeling a little playful, you realised belatedly that you weren’t Seokjin’s only female guest this week. The father of your baby was going to be the subject of gossip for a little while longer you presumed… But determined not to think of Sera for a second longer – and ever again hopefully – you mentally shook your head and grinned at Seokjin. The elevator was spacious, but he was stood right next to you. 

“Were you sick this morning?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “I woke up feeling queasy, but fingers crossed I’m over the worst of it.” 

Not too long until you hit the second trimester, you were praying that would be the end of your nausea. The sickness had seemed to stop this week, maybe thanks to Seokjin’s googled remedies, but you were still fed up with waking up feeling gross and having to work through it until it eased off around midmorning. Although, at least your appetite hadn’t totally disappeared on you. These past few days you’d been craving spicy food – Yuna had even caught you chewing on a chilli pepper last night. Knowing Glob didn’t have bland taste buds made you feel extra proud. 

When the elevator doors opened, your nerves started to appear again. Logically, you knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but meeting new people outside of the professional sense still freaked you out a little. These were Seokjin’s best friends, their opinion on you mattered. You tried to distract yourself by looking at your surroundings, taking it all in. This floor was almost entirely open planned, walls a bright white, the décor pops of primary colours. There were glass panels separating certain sections, creating workstations, although not one single person was here. The glass was imprinted with the AGS logo – the head of a white alpaca wearing a neckerchief. Seokjin had already told you all about the famous mascot connected with his company – RJ, the main character of the first ever game he’d coded as a teenager. The adorable alpaca had followed him throughout his professional career, even helping with the name of his company – Alpaca Gaming Studios. You thought it was such a sentimental and precious detail, summing up Seokjin perfectly. 

Noticing your stolen attention, Seokjin nudged your shoulder with his. “Maybe after work one day I can give you a tour – when nobody’s around.” 

“Ominous,” you commented, making him laugh. “But yes, I’d love that. This place is amazing.” Side-eying him, you added slyly: “Mr. Kim.” 

He seemed to choke on his own spit for a moment, a hand reaching up to tug at the collar of his shirt before he let out a small laugh. Without realising it, you’d stopped outside a door at the furthest end of the floor. “I thought we’d eat somewhere more comfortable than my office. This floor hardly gets used but the conference room is nice.” 

“Sounds great.” Although, a peek at his office would have been better. 

“I think Hobi’s inside waiting for us.” He paused and you took a steadying breath, freaking out yet again. “Don’t be nervous. On a scale of 1 to Yuna, they’re in the minuses. I promise.” That successfully made you laugh, and his mouth stretched into a smile. “That’s better.” He gripped the handle of the door, but paused before he turned it, glancing at you before speaking in a soft whisper. “Thank you.” 

You found it odd of him to say such a thing, but before you could question it, he was opening the door and stepping inside. A slender man with dark short hair was sitting at the table, scrolling on an iPad, but he snapped his head up as you both stepped inside. 

“Hi.” His smile was big and friendly, and he stood up to make his way towards you. 

Seokjin gestured with his hands. “Hoseok, ____. ____, Hoseok.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you managed to say as Hoseok outstretched his hand. His handshake was gentle but firm, hand a little cold.  

“You too.” 

He smiled wider and your mind was tripping over itself to think of things to say, things that alluded to your knowledge of him. Things that Seokjin had told you. You knew that they had been friends ever since they were babies, their families life-long friends. He was dating someone and it was getting serious, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. He was the one who kept Seokjin organised and under control, which surprised you, because Seokjin always seemed organised and under control to you. Jungkook was your age, and he and Seokjin had been friends for around 8 years after Jungkook did some work for AGS. He had his own business, a video production company, but annoyingly you couldn’t remember its name. Golden something… Regardless, impressively he had already been a millionaire by 21. He also liked to flirt. Seokjin had warned you in advance, because according to him, Jungkook could successfully flirt with a wall if he put his mind to it. 

“Sit,” Seokjin motioned, interrupting your thoughts and pulling out a chair opposite Hoseok’s. The table was large enough to fit at least twelve, but all three of you occupied one end. You sat, sinking into the plush fabric, as Seokjin took a seat beside you. “Jungkook shouldn’t be long. He’s bringing the food.” 

“He should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago,” Hoseok humphed, making you laugh. Although it sounded unnatural and high-pitched. You realised awkwardly that you were trying too hard. 

You felt Seokjin move closer to you, taking your hand under the table. You jolted, not expecting it, but relaxed as soon as you felt his warm fingers wrap around yours. “You know what he’s like,” he shrugged, addressing Hoseok. 

For the next few minutes, you participated in stunted conversation. Hoseok seemed the friendly type, but it was very obvious he struggled with small talk, or at least felt a little awkward. It occurred to you that even though you felt like the odd one out in this situation, Hoseok might feel that way too. He kept casting glances at you both when Seokjin said something to you or when you laughed together. That realisation comforted you for some reason, and you started to ease up, your interactions becoming more natural. 

Then the door burst open and a man with a mop of black hair appeared. He was dressed casually, all in black, tattoos running down one arm. He didn’t look as though he’d be best friends with the other two men in the room, not that his appearance caused reason for judgement at all. He looked great. In fact, noticing his eyebrow piercing along with his row of ear piercings made you think of Yuna. A few years ago, she’d have eaten someone like him alive. He was just her type until she met and fell head over heels for the sophisticated Jimin. 

“Finally. Took you long enough,” Seokjin said, sounding uncharacteristically annoyed. 

“I got distracted. Haram wanted to chat.” He was holding two bags of food in one hand, the name of a very popular Mexican restaurant printed on them. Your stomach nearly growled in anticipation. 

But wait. Haram? Where did you recognise that name…? Oh. The girl who had answered the phone to you all those weeks ago! You internally cringed when you remembered the awkward memory. 

“’Course she did,” Hoseok said doubtfully, but Jungkook wasn’t listening, his attention now on you as he shot you a bright, eager smile. With his face lit up like that, he looked younger, innocent, not suiting those giant combat boots he had on his feet at all. Wasn’t he boiling to death?! 

“You must be ____.” He stepped closer. 

“That I am.” 

Oh God, why did you say it like that? 

“I’m Jungkook.” His smile turned into something of a smirk. “But I guess you already know that?” 

You raised an eyebrow. He was definitely something. 

“Just give me the food.” Seokjin’s impatient voice cut through the introduction, his hand that had still been holding yours, lifting to reach for the bags. 

“Rude,” Jungkook tutted, handing them over. “Can’t you see I’m trying to introduce myself to the mother of your child?” Seokjin ignored him, starting to place containers of food on the table. Jungkook took the seat next to Hoseok but moved it around the edge of the table, closer to you. “I was beginning to think we’d never get to meet you.” 

Before you could reply, Seokjin was talking again. “How much do I owe you, Kook?” 

“No need. It’s my treat.” 

Seokjin looked cynical. “You never treat.”

“We have a guest! A new member of the gang!” He drummed his hands on top of the table excitedly and it genuinely made you laugh. “____, have you ever seen Three Men and a Baby?” 

“Not this again,” Hoseok sighed. He looked over at you. “I told him to get his own baby.”  

“Hey, uncle privileges.” 

“Kook,” Seokjin warned lowly. “You need to work up to uncle privileges. You’re a stranger.” 

“What? Like you weren’t a stranger to her up until a couple of months ago?”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted loudly, making Seokjin look at you cluelessly. “He has a point,” you laughed, and it wasn’t long before he joined in, reluctantly agreeing. 

You all started to eat, sharing the variety of dishes spread between you all. You had to give it to him, Jungkook was an impressive mood maker. He didn’t stop talking and joking around, and to your surprise, Seokjin seemed like a totally different person around him. There was no need to wonder how they were best friends after spending a few minutes in their company. Affectionate bickering seemed to be their love language. Hoseok was the calm, maybe slightly judgemental friend, who kept them in line when things got too rowdy. Watching their dynamic was interesting – and extremely enjoyable. 

“____, try this.” Jungkook was holding out a container of what looked like stuffed peppers that were possibly battered. “Jin said you’ve been craving spicy food, and these are like a ten million on the Scoville scale. They’re filled with cheese.” 

You dropped one onto your plate, smothering it in salsa. “The baby might like it,” you agreed, and then smiled over at Seokjin, surprised but definitely touched by the fact he’d been telling his friends about any pregnancy updates. 

“Probably already has a better tolerance than his dad,” Jungkook muttered. 

You turned towards Seokjin this time, surprised, and your knee jutted into his thigh. “Awh, can’t you handle spicy food, Seokjin? You never told me.” 

“I can,” he insisted, his face flushing a little with the teasing lilt of your voice. “A little.” He brought a spoonful of rice to his mouth. “I’m fine.” 

Jungkook scoffed. “Sure, Jan. Just stick to your mild guacamole.” 

You, he, and Hoseok burst out laughing, before you felt mean and squeezed Seokjin’s thigh. He reached down his hand and kept you there for a moment, playing with your fingers until you both realised you needed said hand to continue eating. 

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, and you noticed how adorably red his chest was. “You should have asked Kang to come along,” he said to Hoseok. 

“And make me the fifth wheel? No chance.” Jungkook shook his head. 

“I’m sure you are more than capable of finding a last-minute lunch date,” Hoseok quipped. 

Jungkook contemplated that for a moment, his eyebrows lifting. “I can think of one that’s just a few floors down.” 

“No way,” Seokjin laughed. “You know everyone inside this place is off limits after last time.”   

“What happened last time?” you asked curiously. 

Jungkook averted his gaze, trailing his fork around his food. “Nothing.” 

You looked up at Seokjin, even more curious now. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I’ll tell you later.” 

Jungkook’s head shot up accusingly. “I heard that.” 

You smiled innocently. “You heard nothing.” 

Jungkook burst out laughing and addressed Seokjin. “I can’t believe you hid her away from us!”

“I didn’t,” he chuckled. 

Attention now back on you, Jungkook rested an elbow on the table, chin in hand. “I must say ____, pregnancy becomes you.” 

“You’ve only ever seen me pregnant,” you laughed. 

“You’re glowing.” 

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his behaviour. “You’re good at compliments.” 

“Do you think?” His mouth twitched into a semi-smirk, voice low. 

Hoseok coughed, interrupting the conversation. “Kook, pass me some more napkins.” 

You leaned back in your chair as Jungkook grabbed a handful of napkins, mentally chuckling. He was unstoppable. Was it instinct to flirt with every woman he set his eyes on? He meant no harm, you knew that, but you still glanced at Seokjin, wondering what he thought of it. He was busy eating, but as though he sensed your gaze, his eyes flick to yours. 

“What?” he asked quietly. 

You smiled. “You have some mild guacamole on your nose.” 

“Do I?” His eyes widened, lifting a hand to wipe it with his fingers. “Where?” 

“No, I’m only messing around,” you giggled – giggled – moving his hand away with yours. He guided both underneath the table and then let go to cup your thigh. It stayed there as you both continued eating, his touch warm and agreeable. 

.

.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Seokjin beamed, stepping closer to you to avoid walking into someone who was too distracted with their phone call to pay attention to where they were going. 

Lunch over, Seokjin had insisted on walking you back to work, and eager to be alone with him again, you’d immediately accepted. You hoped he wasn’t so busy next week because you missed seeing him. A faint feeling of panic niggled your brain, but you forced it away. It was okay to grow attached to him, you knew that now. Nothing bad would come from relying on him. 

“I guess,” you shrugged, but couldn’t stop your own smile. Meeting Hoseok and Jungkook had been fun, you’d had nothing to worry about. They were great. 

“I did tell you Jungkook could flirt with inanimate objects, didn’t I?” 

“And here I was thinking I was special,” you joked. 

Seokjin chuckled, but there was something half-hearted about it. “You seemed to get along though? He made you laugh a lot.” 

You dipped your chin, watching your feet as you tried to stifle a laugh. Was that jealousy you detected? “Busted. I like funny men.” Looking up though, you couldn’t take his crestfallen face, linking your arm through his impulsively. “But I know someone funnier.” 

He took the bait, smile growing again. You didn’t pull away, nor did he, and you continued walking, joined together. In the space of a few days, days you’d been absent from one another, it seemed it was now normal to seek out one another’s touch. It was new, and you liked it, and it made you wonder why you hadn’t been doing it from the beginning? With him things just seemed to come naturally. Things you once thought of as scary, things you thought you’d never feel, things you thought would never happen again. It all felt so easy now. 

“If I had to choose,” you started casually, “out of the two, I’d probably pick Hoseok – but don’t tell Jungkook.” 

Seokjin sighed gravely, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’ll rub it in for a week.” 

You laughed, nudging him, but it was the reaction you’d been imagining. You’d only been in their company for less than two hours, but it was more than enough to understand their dynamic. “You’re different around them,” you noted, tilting your head in consideration. 

It was to be expected, his friends had known him for years, that connection meant something – you only had to look at you and Yuna. You were different around her too. Different to what you were with Seokjin. 

“How so?” He seemed genuinely interested. 

“Not in a bad way,” you explained. “I liked seeing you like that, it was new.” 

You were surprised to see he looked worried. “Was I being too childish?”

“No,” you laughed. “But you are…more serious around me, don’t you think?” You didn’t really know how to explain it. 

Seokjin shrugged. “That’s because I like being taken seriously around you.” 

“You’re telling me you’re a CEO and you’re not taken seriously enough?” 

“No, not like that,” he chuckled, sounding coy. “I just…like the way I am around you.” 

You guess he didn’t know how to explain himself either, but that was all right, you were sure you understood perfectly, because you felt the same way. You liked how you were with him. 

Squeezing his arm, you grinned. “I like it too.” 

It wasn’t long before you reached Artkive, and you stopped outside the doors, feeling embarrassingly expectant. You knew you’d both agreed to just let things happen if they felt right, but you were a little hazy on the details. You’d shared one kiss already (technically multiple) so did that mean there would be others? Or had that just been a one-time thing, having been caught up in the moment? Did you have to wait until another moment? Was this one right now? Why were you even expecting a kiss? Had you been expecting one all day? All week? 

Stop it, you scolded yourself, you’re thinking too much again! 

Lost in a whirlwind of your own annoying thoughts, you barely heard the friendly voice behind you, jumping slightly, when one of your co-workers appeared by your side. “Hey, ____. Enjoy your lunch?” 

It was Mari, the accountant, grinning at you warmly. She was by far the oldest member of your team, a friend of Namjoon’s mom, not that her age mattered. She was lovely and treated everyone at the office like they were her children. Still, you felt a little bitter she’d interrupted a potential “moment.” 

“Oh, yes, thank you,” you smiled, then realised she was waiting for you so you could walk in together. Reluctantly, you turned to Seokjin. “Speak to you later?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you.” With a smile your way, then Mari’s, he turned around and started walking away. Holding back a sigh of dismay, you followed Mari inside. What was up with you? 

“He’s a very beautiful young man,” Mari commented casually, and you nearly choked. “How long have you been together?”

Oh no. The moment you’d been dreading was happening. You hoisted a tight smile on your face. “Oh, we’re not. We’re just friends.” 

Friends who kissed. Friends who touch hands and thighs and link arms… Friends who once had sex – twice – when you were strangers. Friends who were now having a baby together. 

“Oh.” To give it to her, she hid her surprise well, chuckling softly to herself as the elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. “Things are so different with you kids these days. Artificial insemination, was it?”

This time you really did choke. So much for pretending as though your pregnancy didn’t exist. “No,” you managed to answer, feeling your face heat up, which was silly really. Sex was sex. So what? 

Unbelievably, Mari winked your way. “Well, it is more fun that way, huh?” As she broke into laughter, you couldn’t help but join in. 

When you got back to your desk you took out your phone, needing to share the story with Seokjin ASAP. 

Mari, the lovely woman who interrupted us—

You stopped, rethinking your phrasing. It seemed as though you were irritated by what had happened. You mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that. You tried again and hit send. 

Mari, the woman you just saw asked me if we’d used artificial insemination to get pregnant. Awkward. 

Your phone buzzed almost immediately. 

Seokjin 2:05pm  And did you correct her? 😉

Only Seokjin could get away with using the winking face emoji. 

Of course. She winked and said it’s more fun that way…

Seokjin 2:06pm  I’m inclined to agree 

At his reply, your stomach dipped, and involuntarily you squeezed your thighs together. Could this be considered sexting? 

No, seriously, what was up with you?!

You were thankfully saved from yourself when Namjoon made his way over and asked how lunch had gone. 

To your bitter disappointment, over the next couple of weeks, there were no more kisses. Not that you were alone very much to begin with. Seokjin had multiple important deadlines so the only time you got to see him was for a quick lunch here or a late dinner there. The weekends weren’t any better because you were wedding dress hunting with Yuna. Her and Jimin had decided on this time next year for the wedding, so it was all systems go. As maid of honour, your role was of ‘upmost importance’ – something she kept repeating daily. It was already exhausting, and you hadn’t even decided on a colour for the bridesmaid dresses yet – not that you’d be able to fit into anything once your bump started expanding! 

The fact you were already 12 weeks pregnant was unbelievable. Time seemed to be going faster by the day, so before you knew it, your next prenatal appointment with Dr. Choi was due. This time it fell on a weekday, so Namjoon had kindly given you the afternoon off. Seokjin’s schedule was easing up slightly, so thankfully he was able to attend too. It would have killed him to miss it, you knew that. He was equally as excited as you to see how much Glob had grown and hadn’t been able to stop going on about it last night on the phone. 

This time the check-up was a lot less in-depth, and the ultrasound was done externally. The gel was cold, but it was hardly noticeable once you saw your baby again – wriggling away happily. You were unable to hold back your tears once you heard the steady thump of their heartbeat, overcome with emotion, and laughing weakly at yourself. Seokjin laced your fingers with his, giving them a soothing squeeze, and when you looked over at him you noticed his eyes were shiny, just as emotional as you. You left the doctor’s office with two matching sonograms and an updated due date – a few days before Seokjin’s birthday. 

Even though Seokjin needed to be back to work soon, you spent the next ten minutes sat in his car studying every inch of the photo together. You could easily make out the head and body, see their tiny nose, and even a hand, where during the ultrasound it had looked like Glob was waving at you. They looked like an actual baby now, and it was astonishing to think this tiny human was inside of you, baking away contentedly. 

“They’re looking less Glob shaped by the second,” you said wistfully as you tucked the photo back inside your purse. 

Seokjin chuckled, clipping his seatbelt in place. “Let’s not give up on the nickname yet. I’ve grown quite fond of it.” 

“Yuna’s good for some things then,” you commented sardonically as you tried to do the same, making him laugh once more. You tugged your belt a second time when it got stuck. Then again, but it didn’t budge. “The belt’s jammed.” 

“Is it?” He undid his own. “Want me to try?” 

When you nodded, he leaned over, crowding your space which you had zero problems with. The faint scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, and something tugged in your lower stomach. Was it hope? An urge? Desire? You watched the side of his face as he fought with the seatbelt, able to even take a waft of his shampoo he was so close. His hair was getting longer again, not quite how it had been before, but it was getting there, and you secretly hoped he wouldn’t cut it again any time soon. It looked soft, slightly tousled, and you fought the urge to reach forward and thread your fingers through it. 

What the hell was wrong with you? 

One kiss – three kisses! – and you’d turned into something you couldn’t understand nor explain. Ever since that night you had been one large mass of expectation. Anticipating more that never seemed to come. Sometimes you’d lie in bed and think about it. The warmth of his soft lips, the heat of his wet tongue. How he’d kissed you so delicately yet deeply your toes ended up curling in pleasure at the memory. If something just feels right and good, then let’s just let it… You thought of his words more than once a day lately, turning them over and ripping them apart in an attempt to analyse their meaning. 

Things had changed between you since then, you knew that. You both continuously edged the line of what was considered friendship, whatever that word meant in this instance. You endlessly flirted over text, in your own round-a-bout way – that would have Yuna undoubtably raising a judgemental eyebrow if she ever saw – and even when on the phone together his voice sometimes took on a deeper, suggesting tone that had you giggling as though you were in middle school. Giggling! You never giggled. In person, in public, you’d both often reference That Night, innocently more than anything, but it still managed to rouse memories of his mouth trailing your skin, his bare flesh gliding and pressing against yours, the sound of his groans in your ear. 

For one night you’d had him everywhere and now he was nowhere. 

“It shouldn’t be doing that. I’ll probably have to get it checked out.” 

You blinked, Seokjin’s words taking time to sink in, the click of your belt even longer, and then finally you realised you were staring at him rather accusingly. You relaxed your face, noticing he was still stretched across the car, still in your personal space, and now staring at you straight back. Your breathing hitched when you watched his gaze flit to your mouth. 

Yes, things had changed, but there was still something missing. 

His lips on yours. 

“Hi,” you murmured. 

The car suddenly felt small and stuffy, Seokjin’s body heat suffusing the enclosed space and fogging your mind. 

“Hi,” he murmured right back, his face definitely closer than what it was moments ago.

You had just enough time to exhale before his mouth pressed firmly to yours, the warmth of it instantly spreading over your skin, blood rushing to the surface. Your body acted without your control, gripping his shirt at the waist, your fingers brushing the firm skin hidden underneath, as the tip of your tongue flicked over his lips, eager for more, eager to taste him. His reaction was instant, the throatiest groan you’d ever heard vibrating against you before he connected your desperate tongues, one hand squeezing your upper arm, the other bracing himself against the window. The angle was awkward, perhaps even uncomfortable for him, but none of that mattered because it was finally happening. 

There was nothing wild and ravenous about it, tongues pressing and sliding together at a similar pace they had a couple of weeks ago, but there was an urgency behind each movement that wasn’t quite there before, a need. Was it coming from him or you? Probably you. In your head you were tearing of each other’s clothes, about to mount his lap and start tugging his hair until his roots resisted. 

You were so lost in fantasy, you almost didn’t hear the voices from outside, the sound travelling closer by the second. That’s right, reality sunk in, it was mid-afternoon, and you were parked up at the doctor’s office. You tugged at Seokjin’s shirt in an attempt to push him away, but your hand betrayed you and you ended up pulling him closer. He pressed his lips tight against yours, a pretty, unrestrained moan slipping from him, and you wanted to yell at whoever was making their way nearer. The second time you managed to push, your hand thankfully listening, and Seokjin reluctantly pulled himself away, his eyes glassy, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“There’s people coming,” you explained in a hushed panic. Not wanting to, but under the impression it was for the best, you wiped your wet mouth, noticing Seokjin didn’t do the same as he slid back into his seat, plump lips shiny. You squeezed your thighs together, watching as a couple hand in hand – your interruption – walked to their car parked in the row in front. Your heart was hammering, and you didn’t know whether it was because of the kiss or the near miss. 

You heard Seokjin click his seatbelt into place and chuckle. “What?” you accused. 

“Nothing,” he shook his head innocently, starting up the car. It wasn’t until he pulled out of the parking lot did he speak again. “They wouldn’t have seen anything, they weren’t looking.” 

“They could have glanced over!” 

A smile played on his lips. “But they didn’t.” 

“I didn’t want to get caught making out at a doctor’s office,” you hissed in a scandalised voice. 

You didn’t want to be banned for inappropriate behaviour – public indecency! Although…if Dr. Choi was the one who found you, it might not be the end of the world… There were plenty more doctor’s offices in this city. 

He burst out laughing. “Making out? What are we, twelve?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You were making out at twelve?”

“No.” His laugh turned into an awkward chuckle, keeping his eye on the road. “You know what I mean.” 

You crossed your arms, words slipping out. “If I recall, you wouldn’t kiss me at the bar that night.” 

He glanced over in disbelief. “We were surrounded by people!” Excuses. “Besides, it wasn’t so much embarrassment, but more I didn’t know if I’d be able to control myself once I tasted your mouth.” 

Your eyes widened to double their size, not quite believing your ears. One look at the satisfied smirk on his face told you he was loving how speechless he’d made you. “You’re shameless!” you cried, reaching an arm across to bat at his chest. 

He snorted, looking over again. “How so?” 

“Attention on the road, please, Mr. Kim,” you quipped, squeezing his bicep, muscle flexing in reflexively. “Me and your baby are in your trusted care.”

.

.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to call tonight,” Seokjin told you once he’d pulled up outside your house, sounding sorry. “I have a family dinner and you’ll probably be asleep by the time I get back.” 

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s fine.” You didn’t want him to feel bad about it. He didn’t have to call you every night, it had just become something of a habit over the weeks. Sometimes you even fell asleep while chatting, other times you video called, especially if you hadn’t managed to see one another in a couple of days. Something dawned on you then, a sicky feeling of panic washing over you. “Um. Are you going to tell them?” 

Seokjin’s eyebrows raised a fraction, not expecting the question. “I don’t know. Do you want me to tell them?” he asked carefully. 

You honestly weren’t sure. You were three months gone, and everything was fine, the baby was healthy. Most people started sharing the news now. Your entire workplace knew. But then again, it wasn’t up to you whether Seokjin wanted to tell his parents or not. It was his decision. 

Sensing your apprehension, he tried a different approach.  “Are you going to tell your family now?”

“Probably not yet,” you admitted. 

Seokjin didn’t question why, and to be honest, if he had, you didn’t know if you could answer. You knew your stepmother would be over the moon with your pregnancy, even if you told her you and Seokjin weren’t together, and you knew your father would be indifferent, just like your siblings. There would be no huge drama, other than Yeonja’s happy, relieved tears. If you were being honest, you were way more nervous anticipating the reaction of Seokjin’s parents. Yet for now, probably until your bump started showing, your pregnancy would be a secret for just a little while longer. 

“Then I won’t either,” he shrugged simply. 

“No. You don’t have to do that. If you want to tell them, do.” 

“I don’t mind waiting some more. Until you’re comfortable.” His hand found your knee, giving it a squeeze. You thought about his tongue. “When you are, we can tell them together if you want? I know my mom would insist on meeting you.” 

You tried to smile, but the action felt tight and uncomfortable. The idea of meeting his family was terrifying, which was stupid because they weren’t these rich, untouchable people that your mind insisted on viewing them as. You mean, they were rich, because of Seokjin’s success, but if they were anything like him, you had nothing to worry about. You knew it would have to happen eventually, and you were trying not to freak out, especially now that you’d turned a corner, but just imagining accompanying Seokjin to a family dinner, informing everybody of your shock pregnancy, made you feel as though you were battling morning sickness all over again. 

“I just don’t want you to keep secrets from them,” you admitted. Maybe the longer you both waited, the worse it would get. 

“It’s not a secret,” he insisted. “They’re not exactly asking every time they see me if I’ve gotten someone pregnant. If anything, they might keel over with shock.” You didn’t find that very funny, grimacing, and he chuckled, the hand still on your knee squeezing again. “I promise everything will be okay.” 

He sounded so certain, you couldn’t not have faith in him. “Okay.” This time your smile was a little easier. “I’m going to wait a few more weeks to tell my dad and Yeonja – at least until I can’t get away with it any longer.” You gestured to your stomach. 

Seokjin laughed softly, his hand now gliding over your belly, spreading a comforting warmth. “I don’t know how successful that will be. Your bump might hold off, but you won’t. You’re practically glowing, ____.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “That’s a myth.” Jungkook had been the first to mention it, which you had taken no notice of, but then Mari had said something this week, Dr. Choi today, and now even Seokjin was believing that crap. 

“Like hell it is.” 

“Shut up,” you dismissed, catching a look of yourself in the mirror of the sun visor. Your skin was looking good yes, but that was probably down to all the vitamins you were practically inhaling, and okay, your hair was shinier than it had ever been, but you’d recently purchased a new organic shampoo, so…

Seokjin lifted his hands to cover his face, as if to shield himself from the sun. “I almost can’t look at you, you’re so bright!”

“Seokjin!” you whine-cried. 

Your complaints only made him laugh loudly and continue. “A true, real-life angel!”

Okay, now he was just being silly. “Did someone start taking charm lessons from Jungkook?” 

“Is it working?” he grinned cheekily. He leaned in. “So, can I kiss you goodbye, or are you afraid we’ll get caught?” 

Your stomach started flip-flopping, not quite believing he was being this forward. “One kiss,” you told him, even though you wanted more than that. “I don’t want to give my neighbours reason to gossip.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, already against your mouth. 

The next morning, you found a text from the night before waiting for you. 

Seokjin 11:23pm  I just got home and I’m EXAUSTED.   You’re definitely asleep by now but I just wanted to say goodnight  Angel 😇 

He was the unbelievable one. 

The following week, Seokjin managed to give you that tour of AGS he’d promised you, meeting him after work on Tuesday evening. The first thing you’d noticed was the giant RJ figure that greeted you as you walked through the doors. Say it was down to nerves, because that thing was taller than Seokjin, but you’d managed to walk past it as though it was invisible the first time you’d been here. There honestly wouldn’t be enough time to tour the entire building, unless you wanted to be here until gone midnight, but he showed you the best bits, the fun bits. The entire rooms dedicated to gaming, the trophy room which showcased every single award AGS had won over the years, the humongous cafeteria, a very impressive gym, which you guessed Seokjin made use of sometimes, and then lastly, something called the development centre where updates for existing games got worked on alongside much awaited future games. Generously, Seokjin let you try out something new his team had been working on. 

Even though you didn’t know a single thing about video games, you had fun, made even more fun because Seokjin had to help you out. Stood over you, his hot, minty breath on your neck and his warm hands over yours as he directed the controls for you, you could have stayed here for hours. And when the little character you’d been playing as fell out of a tree and sadly didn’t make it, you didn’t feel too disappointed because you had Seokjin consoling you, his gentle voice in your ear, making goosebumps appear and a tingle spread up your spine. 

His touch was so soft, you almost didn’t notice the kiss he’d placed on your earlobe until after he’d moved back and apologised. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, turning your head to look at him. “Weren’t you the one that said if something feels right we should just go for it?”

He was confusing you. One minute he was flirting like crazy, sure of himself and his skill, and the next time you saw him he was apologising for something as tiny as a peck on your ear, looking mortified with himself. You really hoped you didn’t have to wait two more weeks for another kiss, you might just explode! He had started something, and he needed to finish it. 

“Well yeah, but my right and your right might be totally different,” he suggested weakly, not meeting your eyes. 

You watched him for a moment, trying to make sense of his words. Did he not want to push his luck? Did he think he wanted to kiss you more than you wanted to kiss him? That wasn’t the case at all, but you hadn’t quite reached those levels of frankness to tell him just that. Instead, you went with something simpler. Less compromising.  

“I can guarantee you they’re not.” 

Seokjin raised his head, his dark eyes unreadable, his grip on the back of your chair tightening. For a moment, neither of you said anything, only stared at one another, and then suddenly, after a ragged breath his lips were on yours. You reacted quickly, winding your hands around his neck, one gripping his shoulder, and he cupped your cheek with his, his thumb tugging at the corner of your mouth so your lips could part. 

“I’ve been desperate to do this again,” he confessed, sucking on your bottom lip, your toes curling. 

His words made your entire body light up, your fingers digging into him as you moaned against his tongue, attempting to pull him closer. If the back of the chair could just disappear, that would be great. You were just thinking maybe you could switch places and straddle him, when the sound of a vacuum outside the door interrupted you. You pulled away marginally, just as Seokjin did the same, your eyebrows raised in question. 

“Cleaners,” he pretty much sighed in response, begrudgingly backing off, running a hand over his face. 

Your disappointment was instant, like ice cold water getting dunked over your head. 

The next day, you learned of plans for Soobin’s upcoming birthday. Namjoon had booked the upstairs room of a small nightclub last minute, for tomorrow night, Soobin’s weekend fully booked with birthday festivities for it to happen then. He wanted to surprise the younger guy after he’d stepped in as temporary receptionist, which was sweet. Thankfully, Namjoon had hired someone new on Monday, relieving Soobin of his extra duties. Yeeun was in her mid-thirties and had eased into the job seamlessly, which made sense seeing as she’d been a receptionist for ten years at a dental firm up until a month ago when it had gone bust. You’d overheard Namjoon jokingly telling Yoongi to stay away from her Monday afternoon, and to your surprise he had laughed. 

In fact, he’d been more like his usual self this past week or so, chatting with everyone once again, smiling and laughing. He no longer hid away at his desk or even his car to eat lunch. He no longer seemed to be avoiding you – or maybe avoiding was an insensitive way of looking at things. You understood he’d needed space to get over everything that had happened, and that meant you as well. Thankfully though, things seemed to be changing. Yesterday you’d even had a small conversation about Glob in the break room as you searched for something to graze on. Morning sickness had disappeared altogether and now you were just hungry 24/7. Things were still pretty awkward between you both and a part of you didn’t know how to act around him after your dual confessions, but acting as you normally would (before all this mess) was probably the best thing to do. You didn’t want to lose your friendship with him. Things would get better, you were sure of it. 

“So…maybe you could invite Seokjin?” Namjoon was asking you now, his tone slow and careful, fiddling with a corner of his mousepad that was peeling and curling upwards. “I mean, everyone else is inviting someone. Friends, wives, husbands, partners—Not that I’m saying Seokjin is your significant other,” he panicked, eyes wide, then rallied on, barely taking a breath. “Just that maybe it would be nice for him to meet everyone you work with. We’re all like you’re extended family after all.” 

You let out a short, piercing laugh, folding your arms. “Are you saying that you would like to meet him because you’re like my extended family?” 

He was so transparent. 

“Come on, it’s only fair.” He was pouting slightly. “Yuna’s met him.” 

“Not of my own volition,” you insisted. “You know what she’s like.” 

His mouth quirked then, not needing to say anything for you to know he agreed. He’d known Yuna for practically the same amount of time he’d known you. On the night you’d introduced them, they’d ended up in bed together, but thankfully they’d both agreed it was only a one-time thing, could forget the fact they’d been naked and sweaty together, and had become friends.  You still wished that Yuna hadn’t gone into extremely vivid detail about how hung he was, but you’d also thankfully been able to put that behind you and managed to keep your friendship with him too. 

“How is the bride-to-be anyway?” he asked, distracted now. “I haven’t seen her since the engagement party.” 

The engagement party had happened before you’d found out you were pregnant, before you’d gone on your wild-goose chase searching for Seokjin – or Jin as you only knew him by back then. It was funny thinking back. It wasn’t too long ago, but so much had changed. So many things had happened. You felt like a different person sometimes. 

“She’s Yuna,” you replied, as if that was a befitting enough answer. It was. “Texted me at 4 this morning wanting my thoughts on a traveling seafood station for the wedding reception. Yeah, I don’t know what it is either, but it sounds gross,” you laughed when you noticed Namjoon pulling the most disgusted face you’d ever seen. You forget he hated seafood with a burning passion. 

“Tell her I rescind my invitation.”

You left his office promising to ask Seokjin if he’d like to come – if he could make it. Going to a birthday party on a weeknight might be a problem for him, but a very large part of you hoped he would say yes. After all, you had said you wanted him to meet Namjoon soon and yet that opportunity hadn’t come yet. However, as well as your friend, he was now going to meet the entirety of your office too… That was like you meeting every single one of his employees. Or maybe not, because that would probably be impossible, and so, so intimidating! But you had to admit, the thought of Seokjin meeting everyone was a nice one. You had no doubt that they would love him, that man had enviable charm, even if he didn’t realise it, or played it down… Talk of your pregnancy was free rein now, you felt comfortable around everyone, showing off Glob’s sonogram – or selfie, as Yuna liked to call it – proudly. You felt easier and lighter than you’d felt in a long, long time, so the thought of your colleagues meeting Seokjin felt like a natural progression. He was the father of your baby after all. 

To your delight, he said he could make it on the phone that night, and a taxi dropped him off at your place the following evening, waiting for you both as you slipped on your shoes. Seokjin had decided not to drive so he could have a drink or two to settle his nerves. You felt for him, but you knew he had nothing to be nervous about. Just like he had known you had nothing to be nervous about when you’d met Hoseok and Jungkook. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled as you braced yourself against the door frame and flicked a slingback on. You didn’t want to keep the driver waiting too long because you knew the fare meter was still running, but you’d taken way too long to get ready tonight. You’d recently began spending an indeterminable amount of time studying your belly in the mirror. There was something there, if you looked hard enough, but mostly it just looked as though you were bloated after eating too much bread. In the nights it expanded slightly, but not by a lot. Dr. Choi had already told you that for first time moms, it often took longer for the bump to appear, but you almost found yourself eager for it to happen now, despite wanting to hold off telling your family…

Bump or not, everything else had started to expand anyway. You could no longer get any of your jeans past mid-thigh, your hips widening, and your boobs, well, they were well on their way to growing an extra cup size. You were spilling out over all of your bras. You’d finally settled on a floaty midi dress ten minutes ago. One that hid your quadruple tits and slipped past your hips effortlessly. Seokjin’s comment made your face warm, which only got worse when you were sat together in the back of the taxi. 

“Okay, stop looking at me now, you’re making me self-conscious,” you whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. 

“Sorry, I just can’t help it. That angel glow is amplified tonight,” he chuckled. He leaned over the gap between you and kissed your cheek. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about.” 

You squeezed your body tight, evil images of straddling him snaking their way into the forefront of your mind. You were the shameless one! You turned to him then, taking in his appearance, which was probably a bad idea considering everything. He was dressed in all black, making him appear longer and leaner – if that was possible – and he looked broader than ever. 

“You look good too,” you offered. That was an understatement. He looked irresistible. 

“Really?” He looked down at himself, shaking his head, and you noticed the tops of his ears had flushed red, an adorably common response to pretty much anything. “I just threw something on.” 

You didn’t really know whether to believe that one or not… 

.

.

You and Seokjin stepped into the upstairs room of the venue close together, your arm brushing against his. He leaned in, his voice in your ear so you could hear him above the music. “Which is the one who thought we used a turkey baster? I’d love to meet her.” 

You snorted unattractively, batting at his chest, but before you could reply, you heard Namjoon calling you over from his spot stood at the bar. He was with Yoongi, and you felt a jolt of unease spread through you. You found yourself not caring how others perceived your relationship with Seokjin. There was no black and white answer right now, and nobody in this room knew about the kisses and words you’d shared. They were free to think what they liked, but for some reason it still felt as though you were flaunting a new relationship in front of Yoongi right now. You hadn’t particularly thought of it that way until now, but you couldn’t exactly ignore Namjoon’s large, dimpled smile and eager wave. So, you led the way, Seokjin following closely behind. 

“Seokjin, this is my boss Namjoon,” you introduced with a smile, glancing over at Yoongi who was leaning both elbows on the bar, something clear and sparkling in his glass. 

“Boss?” Namjoon huffed, crossing his arms. “That’s not very nice.” He looked at Seokjin then, holding out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Seokjin.” 

“And you,” Seokjin grinned, the action as dashing as always. 

You cleared your throat, motioning to Yoongi. “You remember Yoongi?”

Of course he did! 

Seokjin nodded in his direction, his yes muffled by Yoongi’s casual what’s up?

There was a brief moment of silence before Seokjin asked: “Can I get you both another drink?” 

Namjoon said yes the same time Yoongi said no, and the former laughed, easing the slight awkwardness of the situation. 

“What about you?” he asked you as he stepped towards the bar, next to Namjoon. “Do they do a non-alcoholic version of those cocktails you love?” 

You giggled quietly, mildly aware Namjoon and Yoongi were listening. “Seokjin, that would just be a Fizz.” 

“I can be the gin substitute.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Which do you prefer?” 

“Hmm, that’s hard.” you contemplated, feigning a struggle and laughing when he breathed out an offended scoff. 

After you’d decided on a soda water and wedge of lime, Seokjin ordered beers for him and Namjoon. All three drinks didn’t take long to arrive, and as Namjoon took his, he stood straighter. “Hey, come on, let’s get ready. Tara will be here with Soobin any minute now.” 

Tara was another graphic designer, and tonight it had been her job to lure Soobin here for his surprise. And surprised he was once he finally appeared in the doorway, nearly jumping out of his skin when everyone yelled ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOOBIN.’ You liked Soobin and were even more fond of him now that you knew his intuition was 100% trustable. You cornered him a little while later with his gift, which Seokjin had kindly taken charge of when you’d whined about 1. Not having enough time to get him a present, and 2. Not knowing what to get him at all. Seokjin figured every guy liked to game. You didn’t quite think the same, but out of ideas, you’d relented, and now you handed your co-worker an envelope with an AGS gift card inside. 

Seeing his mouth form a small ‘o’ as he opened it up instantly made you believe you’d been correct. “Do you game?” you asked, about to cast a worried glance Seokjin’s way when you saw what it was that had made Soobin speechless. The gift card’s amount was eyewatering. Or eyewatering for a gift from a random co-worker of his and her friend-who-is-the-father-of-her-baby-and-who-she-kisses-sometimes anyway. 

“Seokjin owns the company,” you explained in a rush. 

“Really?” Soobin’s eyes rounded. “Oh, god.” You watched in confusion as he grew strangely flustered, his eyes flying to Seokjin, pupils flitting back and forth. “I love every game you’ve released, but especially BT21! I’ve loved that for years. I can’t wait for the update, it’s going to be amazing! I’ll be able to purchase so much with this! Thank you so much – truly!” He held up the gift card and let out a gleeful laugh, waving it about. 

Well, would you look at that, Seokjin had himself a fanboy. BT21 was Seokjin’s oldest and most cherished creation, the game he’d coded as a teenager and gradually and painstakingly built and improved bit by bit. The game that had made his company take off, the game that had made him his fortune. He’d told you that two nights ago, so the knowledge was still fresh in your memory. A simulation role-playing video game that you knew for a fact, starred RJ the cute white alpaca. 

Seokjin chuckled humbly. “Thanks. I’m blessed with a very talented team.” 

It wasn’t long before you felt out of your depth as their conversation continued, so with a gentle squeeze to Seokjin’s elbow, you excused yourself, spotting Tara sat in a booth with Yeeun. 

Seokjin turned out to be an impressive socialiser – or maybe it was just because everyone wanted a conversation with him. You watched as he mingled his way around the room, laughing and joking with everyone. It was amazing, although you imagined he had to be good at this stuff being who he was, even if he possibly didn’t enjoy it very much. Currently he was sat at the bar with Namjoon where they had been animatedly chatting for the last thirty minutes. You were slumped in a booth, exhausted from the five minutes of dancing you’d managed with Tara and Soobin. Every now and then Seokjin would glance over and smile at you, sending your insides all a flutter. You couldn’t even blame it on alcohol. 

You were surprised when Yoongi appeared in front of you, his head tilted, mouth curved into a half smile. “No fun being the only sober one?”

You laughed, smoothing a hand over your stomach. “I guess I have to get used to it for a while. At least I won’t be suffering with a hangover tomorrow morning.” 

“If it helps, I’m not drinking either,’ he chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you and placing his glass on the table. Another clear and sparkling drink. The same as yours you realised. 

“How come?” 

His hair had gotten longer recently and it really suited him, but then again, you were a fan of long hair so maybe you were biased. Despite that though, you felt nothing. No twist of your stomach, no racing of your pulse, no warming of your cheeks… 

“Giving Mari a ride home. Her husband couldn’t make it.” 

You smiled, that was sweet of him, but your attention got stolen when you noticed Seokjin laughing at something Namjoon said across the room. You couldn’t hear it, but you could imagine the sound easily. 

“Should I be worried I’m about to lose my best friend?” Yoongi joked, his gaze following yours. 

“I knew they would hit it off,” you grinned triumphantly, waving when Seokjin glanced over. 

.

.

Sometime later you came back from the restroom to find Seokjin sat alone, finishing his beer. Yoongi had stayed talking with you for a while, things only slightly stunted before you relaxed, comfortable again in his presence. It felt nice to joke around with him, to talk about work, and books and other shared interests, and of course, to laugh at Namjoon. All the things you used to do until a few weeks ago. When he’d left to find Mari, wondering when she wanted to leave, you waved him off feeling very confident that things would be all right between you. 

Now, seeing Seokjin all on his lonesome for the first time tonight, you rushed over and pulled up a barstool. 

“Is this seat taken?” you asked, plonking yourself down. 

He turned, a huge grin on his face. “I’m getting déjà vu.”

You tilted your head, eyes widening. “I thought this felt familiar.” You watched in bemusement as he erupted into squeaky laughter, banging his hands on top of the bar as though you were the funniest person in the world. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his pretty eyes unfocused, his smile wonky. He held up his bottle. “Everyone kept buying me drinks. Namjoon can really knock them back,” he added, sounding impressed. 

With a laugh, you glanced around and spotted him chatting to Yeeun on the other side of the room. You turned back to Seokjin. “Should I go find us a taxi?” It was nearing midnight, and you didn’t want to be responsible for him not turning up to work tomorrow. 

He leaned in close, conspiratorially, hot breath against your jaw. “Are you going to tuck me in?” 

“Oh, my god!” you exclaimed, pushing his shoulder. He nearly faceplanted the bar top, his reaction time too slow. “You remember that?” 

“Of course I do,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I already said I remembered everything.” 

You didn’t need the reminder of how forthright you had been that night, it was embarrassing. Although, it had worked… a little voice boasted inside your head. And obviously Seokjin remembered it for a reason… 

“____!” At the call of your name, you turned around to find Yoongi making his way over, Mari shuffling after him, her round cheeks rosy with alcohol. “I’m taking Mari home now. Do you and Seokjin want a ride?” 

“Oh.” You let his question sink in, having not been expecting it. “No, it’s okay, we’ll get a taxi.” 

“You sure?” 

“Come on, dear,” Mari coaxed. “You have your own free taxi service right here.”  

You looked at Seokjin, who gave a small shrug and smiled, as if to say he didn’t mind what you decided. Although, who knew if he’d even been paying attention to the conversation. You turned back to Yoongi and Mari. A ride home did sound like a convenient idea. You wouldn’t have to wait around. You could be in bed within the hour. 

“All right. Yeah, that would be great,” you smiled. “Thanks Yoongi.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Seokjin echoed, swigging the last of his beer. 

.

.

Inside the car, Mari and Seokjin chatted away as if they had known one another for years. She was up front with Yoongi and you and Seokjin were squashed together in the back, Seokjin deciding to compact himself into the tiny centre seat next to you. You listened with a grin as he babbled on and on about the baby, practically gushing with this giant, goofy smile on his face. He sounded so happy telling Mari about the nickname Glob, laughing as he explained your best friend came up with it and it had just stuck. He caressed your stomach as he spoke, and you cupped your hand over his, following his motions, feeling warm all over. You were a unit, you realised. Connected because of the baby you’d created together, but maybe it was more than that now… 

“You’re a very beautiful man,” Mari told him as she got out of the car, taking him by surprise and turning him a deep shade of red in the process as he laughed awkwardly. The rush of affection you felt hit you like a bulldozer, and you doubted you could blame it on the bubbles in your soda water. 

“So, where do you live?” Yoongi asked Seokjin once Mari had let herself into her house. 

Seokjin squinted into the darkness outside, trying to recognise where you were. “Oh,” he said, looking at you guiltily. “It’s…quite a way from here.” His words were slow and heavy, as though he was tired. (And drunk, obviously.)

He was right, you realised, noticing the location on Yoongi’s GPS. 

“Yoongi, just take us to my place,” you said, without thinking twice “We’ll sort it out from there.” Seokjin could request a taxi from your house instead of you both making Yoongi drive around the city. God knows what time he’d get home. 

“You sure?” he asked, making eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror. “I really don’t mind.” 

“No, don’t put yourself out,” you insisted, before turning to Seokjin. “Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, settling back into the seat, his right leg awkwardly spread to avoid being cramped. Once Yoongi started driving again, Seokjin leaned in close, the beer on his breath not particularly disagreeable to your surprise. “Does that mean I get to tuck you in?” he whispered archly. When you attempted to stifle your laugh and nudge him away, it only made his extra loud.

.

.

Soon enough, you were outside your place and waving Yoongi goodbye as you searched through your purse for the key. 

“This is such a great door,” Seokjin said beside you, and you turned to see him stroking the panels. “What type of wood is it?” 

You burst out laughing. “Seokjin, what the hell, you are so drunk!” He only shrugged in response. “How will you cope tomorrow?” you asked as you opened your ‘great’ door. 

“I don’t get hangovers,” he replied as he followed you inside. 

“Sit.” you ordered, motioning towards the sofa as you kicked off your shoes. “I’ll call a taxi.” 

“No, don’t,” he whined, slumping down, an arm resting on one of your throw pillows. “I’ll call Jay Kay. He owes me about ten favours.” 

You chuckled and sat down next to him. He made no move to call Jungkook, and seemed comfortable enough on your couch, in your living room, inside your home…

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

“Yes,” he smiled, his gaze, still unfocused, moving to you. “All your colleagues are really nice.” 

“They liked you.” 

He shook his head, in denial, and then proceeded to grimace, almost as if he was embarrassed. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

“No, come on.” 

He sighed and flung his head back, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m just…awful.” 

“Awful?” you asked hesitantly. 

“I’m an awful, jealous man.” 

“What do you mean?” Now you were just confused. 

He looked up, meeting your eyes, his face sombre. “I watched you laughing and joking with Yoongi.” 

Oh. Okay. You hadn’t been expecting that. 

He blinked. “Are you mad?”

You found yourself smiling. “Why would I be mad?” You hesitated, but ultimately decided to continue. “You’re not the only one who gets jealous. Dr. Choi was still giving you eyes.” 

This…thing with you and him would only be confusing if you both let it. If you both got in your heads too much. Which was pretty rich coming from you considering you were the queen of overthinking, but you were trying not to, and becoming very successful at it too. (But maybe that was because all your thoughts now revolved around straddling Seokjin.) Jealousy was a normal human emotion – in moderation. So what if you didn’t like it every time Dr. Choi smiled at him? You didn’t have to dissect those feelings and try to pinpoint the exact reason why it annoyed you. And it worked both ways. Seokjin didn’t need to think he was an awful person for watching you laugh with Yoongi and not liking it…

“You know I’m not interested in Yoongi, right?” you asked quietly, just to make sure. 

“I know,” he replied to your relief. “But it’s not just him.” You waited, perplexed. “Jungkook.” Your shock must’ve been obvious on your face because he groaned. “See, I’m terrible!” 

You snorted. “Pfft. Come on! Give me some credit.” 

Jungkook? Really? You’d probably end up throttling him. 

Seokjin looked stunned. “He’s not your type?” 

You shook your head. He was offending you. 

“What is your type?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t really think about it that much,” you admitted, taken by surprise. However, by now Seokjin was sitting up straight, full attention on you, as focused as a drunk person could get. It was down to that fact you relented. “I like someone who is hardworking,” you started tentatively, feeling a little embarrassed. “And intelligent – emotionally too.” 

Seokjin’s eyebrows raised, and it made you laugh, relaxing you. 

“I like someone who can make me laugh – I already said that… Someone’s who supportive, mature, practical.” The words were flowing from you now, without having to think too much. 

“Jungkook made you laugh,” he pointed out. 

You rolled your eyes. “Can Jungkook steam his own clothes and wash dishes?” You imagined he got someone to do that for him. “Because I find that really hot.” 

“He loves doing laundry.” 

“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” you chuckled quietly. “Are you trying to set me up with one of your best friends, or…?” 

“What else do you like?” he asked, either blatantly ignoring your question or not paying attention. 

You smiled, leaning in closer. “Someone that I can rely on… Someone who’s very handsome.” You waited for him to say something, knowing you were being completely obvious now, but not finding it in you to care. 

Finally, after a few seconds, he snorted, eyes fluttering closed. “I think your standards are very high.” 

You dissolved into laughter, resting the side of your face against the back of the sofa and watching him. “They are,” you agreed, not daring to share your final thoughts – your final hopes. 

Someone you could trust with your heart, someone who could understand you, someone who could be patient with you…

“I’ll get you some water and then you can call Jungkook,” you said instead, rising from the sofa. 

Seokjin hummed in response, slumped again. As you walked into the kitchen and poured him a glass, you wondered what his ideal type was, deciding to ask him while he waited for his ride. When you got back to the living room, he hadn’t moved a muscle. “Seokjin?” You placed the water down on the coffee table. When he didn’t reply, you tried again. “Jin?” 

Glancing over, you realised he was sound asleep! Or passed out, was probably a better way of describing it, because as you called him again, even starting to shake him gently, he didn’t budge. There seemed like nothing you could do, other than wrestle Seokjin’s phone out of his pocket to call Jungkook yourself. But that would mean him driving all the way here to drag an unconscious Seokjin into the back of his car. It seemed like a waste of time. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, before fluffing up your cushions so he had somewhere comfortable to rest his head, decision made. Sleeping on your couch it was. 

You realised exactly just how dead to the world he was when you attempted to lie him on his back. It was an insane struggle just to move him an inch, yet your huffing and puffing did not wake him at all, his soft snores in your ear as you attempted to (stupidly) hoist him up by the armpits. 

“Come on, Glob, help me out here,” you panted, before giving up trying to be careful and pushing him down. You lifted his legs up, his ankles resting on the arm of the sofa, and tugged off his boots, lining them up together underneath the coffee table. You looked down at him, knowing that come tomorrow morning his body was going to be in agony, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Taking the blanket folded on your chair, you draped it over him, then paused, feeling a little evil. Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand and you were snapping a picture of his cute pouty sleeping face. 

A memento. 

ending note; anyway, not to make anyone emo or anything, but I was just imagining Yoongi looking in the rear-view mirror as he drove them all home and seeing Oc’s happy, smiley face as she gazed at Seokjin and feeling all bittersweet because of course he’s over the moon for her but at the same time it still hurts a little 💔

Written 2022. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2022

[thebunniesgrim]

I'm gonna talk about blizto again (its negative and my opinion)  

In my last Blizto post (shameless plug. Also, I was kinda right about Fizz forgiving him. I'm a prophet ) I listed why I didn’t like blizto but now... 

I feel no sympathy towards Blizto  

nothing!  

Is it just me?   

Frankly I feel nothing towards him  

(you know I visibly frown when he shows up screen sometimes and I have to like catch myself like hey he's the main character dumb dumb he’s going to be on screen lol)  

Now this could because bilzto isn't my type of character you know? When I was younger, I always avoided mean characters or main characters I've always picked side characters or other side main Characters over the main important character for instance I never liked Steven from Steven Universe, but I liked Garnet and Peridot. I hated Twilight (mlp) as kid and don’t get younger me started when she became a princess, I was so unhappy. I wanted Rarity or Fluttershy to become a princess not her. I never cared for Bloom from Winx's club, but I did like Aisha and Stella.  

And to be fair when I got past my hate boner, I grew to tolerate them, but I’ve never rolled my eyes as much as I do with blizto  

And it’s not like I don’t like mean characters I'm a villain girly all the way I like Loona’s bully in Queen Bee Vicky.

I like striker, and I also think Stella is the tiniest bit funny (I don’t condone what she does obviously but like you know when she's on screen I'm not bored) when I was obsessed with Danganronpa I loved Byakuya, Nagito, and Kokichi I also liked Celestia, Mondo, Fuyuhiko, Hiyoko, yada yada. When I was over the moon about black butler I love Alois, Claude, William and so on. I love a good mean character  

but that being said

I don’t care about him at all and I like Stolas (sometimes) I feel bad for him (sometimes) but anytime Blizto has his sad woe is me moments (I mean Stolas does this too and I have my grievance with him of course but like this isn't about him lol) like him crying on the couch at the end of Ozzie's, him crying on the couch at the end of Queen Bee, his trip in Truth Seekers, his mom dying, or his sister hating him. My face is bone dry but helluva has never made me cry so...  

I also think that the reason I have a hard time sympathizing with him is because of how blizto (and stolas) never really have a moment where they’re forced to face the consequences of their actions every problem is solved, forgotten or put on the back burners to be solved through text.  

No, I'm not letting that go screw you >:( 

Stolas literally gets hospitalized and is fine an episode later yeah, no that’s fine. No need to look into that. No need to really sit and let that stew for minute. That’s not important or anything. No need to get Biltzo’s view on this or anything    

It's like that "Sunny meets Twilight" video on YouTube 

“Every villain converted, every problem friendshiped within a half hour. it got so peaceful we were literally making up fake friendship problems just to not go fucking insane”  

Not to mention most of his sad feel bad for me moments are like his own fault. There's self-sabotage and then there's this:  

like him being sad that Barbie doesn’t want him in her life and him being all ‘:(’ and I was like yeah, no shit idiot. She most likely has told him to leave her alone more than once, the rehab nurse said not look for her, didn’t tell you she left rehab, and she was hard to find online obviously she doesn’t want you in her life what’s not clicking smart guy?  

No honestly what did he expect to happen? Her to just well up with tears and hug him? Not to mention she lost her job because of him granted she would have lost it regardless because her plug was a target by IMP but still. That also added salt to the wound.  

Blitzo is like wow my feeling are hurt in ways I could have avoided how could this have happened?  

His whole thing at Ozzie's. he could have just said nothing and let Moxxie get picked on. You know I don’t even know why he stood up for them in the first place. Is that not out of character or him? Like he will take almost any opportunity to shit on moxxie what changed now? and it isn't like a ‘only I can pick on him thing’ he lets Loona make fun of him, let striker, and Millies family pick on him I mean come on he even joins in. What changed that made him want to stick up for the M&Ms? Other than narrative push also he knows Versoiska and Fizzarolli are in Ozzie’s 2 people he hates 2 people he has beef with why are you speaking? He could have saved his little crying session if he didn’t say anything. (This also goes for Queen bee as well. Honestly the whole queen bee problem could have been avoided if blitzo kept his mouth shut)  

Also how did he and stolas even get in? Moxxie had to wait for almost a year or so for seats to Ozzie’s because it’s always booked... also it must cost a little money to go realistically speaking and it's not like Stolas paid or even got them seats because Stolas didn’t even know they were at Ozzie's to being with. This whole episode shouldn’t have even happened from a continuity standpoint because Stolas and Blizto shouldn’t have been able to get into Ozzie's in the first place! Lol

Blitzo when something goes wrong after he literally caused it or could have avoided it by shutting up for 5 minuets:  

His trip and his mom dying are stuff that aren't completely his fault as mom dying was an accident and his trip was just his inner dialog  

so like 1st of all this mom dying thing didn’t work like Moxxie's did we didn’t get to see a flashback of her being motherly or whatever like we did with Moxxie's mom we saw Moxxie's mom being protective, and caring for him and all that jazz 

all we know is just that yup that’s a mom and she’s dead now.  :D

Speaking of dead moms. I'm about to get really heartless

Honestly the fact that Blizto made Fizz’s back story about him really irked me. Fizz is like yo, you almost ruined my life and Biltzo is like yeah that’s sad and all, but my mom died :/  

Ok? Like? Fizz lost all his arms, legs, and horns and could have had his whole career as an entertainer ripped from him but yeah, your mommy died so sad  

I understand it was to show his perspective but felt kind of one up-ish, no?  

“I lost my arms and legs in a fire you started”  

“Yeah, but my mom died” –looks around for validation-  

Like yeah apologize for starting the fire but like what does your mom have to do about this? This isn't about her, ok? You nearly killed him! Focused on that babe  

Im sorry but can you imagine you losing your limbs in a freak accident you though was orchestrated by an ex best friend. Then when confronted by it they're like "yeah but my mom died" 

I'm sorry if I sound cruel or whatever but like really?  

This isn't about her. I'm sorry... I don’t know if you’ve noticed but one of us here has robotic attachments to help them function after a fire one of us caused (albeit on accident but I don’t know that yet)  

Yeah, no I was just nearly burned alive and had to endure the feeling of my skin melting off my bones for however long it took for someone to find me and take me to the hospital on my birthday. Go through whatever surgeries, and physical therapy to get better, get robotic attachments so I could still perform and function better, and get use to not having my limbs and coming to terms with my new normal and the fact that my old best friend started this whole thing in the first place (albeit on accident but I don’t know that yet) and didn’t visit me or apologize in 15ish years because of an unknown 3rd party

But yeah, your mom died  

So sorry about that  

What? This isn't about her! Why are you bringing this up? I'm sorry your mom and my limbs can't be here today but what does your mom have to do with my limbs getting seared off? Nothing? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Way to use your mom to soften the blow of you being the literal cause that I am now an amputee (albeit on accident but I don’t know that yet)  

Nice going dude real nice  

like this not the way of the platypus

Other than the fact that imps aren't immune to hell fire in the first place doesn’t make any sense to me but that’s not important at the end of the day now, is it? No, it's not  

Um...  

heh

Anyways...  

His trip was just eh for me I really didn’t care  

Also why didn’t Barbie show up in blizto’s trip or even a cameo or something? Like I know some people are gonna be like ‘well those were romantic and sexual relationships’ and yeah sure.  

That's it. I don’t have a comeback for that lol  

To be fair a good amount of Helluva boss characters are unsympathetic but there are characters I sympathize with even if said characters that don’t necessarily have a lot to sympathize with like Asmodeus I feel bad that Fizzarolli wakes him up with an air horn sometimes  

The only time I've sympathized with Blizto was when he was getting the shit kicked out of him by Loona and that’s only because the only character, I dislike more than Blizto is Loona  

(a lot of people who are critical of Loona are like “Blizto deserves better” or “Loona doesn’t deserve Bilzto” and honestly, I kinda agree but at the same time it seems like they deserve each other lol)  

Everyone is like complaining that Loona isn't getting lines or any screen time but I'm over here like 

Uh  

But yeah, that’s all :) 

[hideawayfairy]

Fizzmodeus Prompts

Hey everyone. Here are a list of prompts/summaries that I can envision for Fizzmodeus that anyone is free to use! Be it for fanfic, art, edits, etc. You are free to take these prompts and change them however you see fit. Anyway, here they are:

-Fizz is sold off to become Mammon's concubine due to how popular he is. However, he starts winning the heart of Asmodeus, who (after the two grow closer) wants Fizz to become his bride. OPTIONAL: Fizz still loses his limbs. You could even have that it's due to his loss of limbs that he's been relegated to concubine status.

-Ozzie gifts Fizz stuffed/toy frogs. That's it. That's the prompt.

-"Are you sure? I'm pretty high maintenance." A line said by Fizz that could be used for a Long Distance Relationship AU in which Fizz and Ozzie meet online and talk to each other online before formally seeing each other (Fizz uses his tail to type; or if you wanna make this a Human AU, it could be text to speech/any other method you can think of). On the surface this line can be taken as Fizz being a diva (which he still is). Under the surface, however, he's worried about a future partner being brought down into being his caregiver cuz he knows he has a lot of needs.

-Blitzo asks Fizz what he does with his bird partner's feathers cuz Blitzo keeps coughing up leftover feathers from Stolas. Fizz answers that he likes to collect Ozzie's fallen feathers and make them into a pillow.

-Mad Scientist AU in which Asmodeus is a mad scientist and Fizz is the MC of Ozzie's Show Stopping Springer Galore! (or Ozzie's for short.) Asmodeus comes from a noble family and it's those family funds that help operate many of his experiments (he's even experimented on himself; OPTIONAL: you could make it so that's how he has 3 heads in this AU). Ozzie likes to have a show put on for his many inventions and experiments. He probably allows for others to show off their own inventions too.

-You've heard of Fizz feeling vulnerable/safe enough to show Ozzie his scars and broken horns. Now get ready for Ozzie feeling vulnerable/safe enough to show Fizz a more monstrous form of his. (No this is not me wanting more monstrous Ozzie with Fizz. What gave you that idea..../hides)

-Potential follow-up to that last one: monstrous Ozzie going on a rampage, only to be soothed by Fizz.

Honorable mentions go to the Tango de Roxanne drama theme I wrote about (with this as a potential add-on) and the Complicated Sinking Ship BlitzFizz idea I shared too.

Feel free to add on if you'd like. Or if you want me to keep coming up with more prompts, that's fine too. Either way, I hope you like these ideas!

[trulylino]

=> Gifts They Give You - BTS

Pairing: bts x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: just a collection of the little things that the bts members would do for you when they're in love with you.

Warnings: Christmas mentions

Masterlist

Jin

I mean we all know this man loves to cook. If he wanted to do something nice for you he would definitely tell you to dress up nice and meet him at his apartment. When you get there he's set up his table with a candle and proper set out cutlery and he's made the fanciest food he could think of making. The type of person to pretend to take your order despite being thirty years old but it's fine because he's so sweet while doing it. Would get fully pouty if you didn't immediately pepper him with kisses when you saw it because he just put in all this effort for you to not give him a peck on the nose?

Yoongi

He likes to buy you little packets of sweets. Him and the boys will have been out shooting and he'll have gone and found a shop somewhere just to make sure he had something to give to you. He tries to get you something different every time, just to make it feel exciting but he likes to get what he knows is your favourite. Loves to see your reaction as you squeal in delight trying to open the packet to try some. If you didn't let him try one he would hug you from behind as you attempt to keep the packet out of reach, but eventually you cave. Sugary kisses afterwards because your lips are coated in whatever treat he bought for you this time.

Jhope

He's a complete sucker for bath bombs. Anything hygiene related which has a nice scent, really. Don't let this man anywhere near Lush because he will walk out with whole bags of things for you. If he notices you've been stressed out recently from school or work the next day he'll make a special trip and buy you a bath bomb or something similar just so you relax properly and watch the fizzing colours dissolve. Sometimes he demands that he joins you, saying "I want to see the pretty colours too!" but really it's just an excuse to spend time with you. Despite knowing this, you don't really care as you love spending time with Hobi.

Namjoon

I hate to be stereotypical but he loves giving you books. Specifically books he's read and even put little notes into. You can't count the amount of small little sticky bookmarks are around your house because he's constantly marking his favourite parts or commenting on them. When you get around to reading it yourself you can follow his train of thought. He loves being able to discuss the book with you afterwards, questioning your own opinions on the bits he marked, eager to know if you enjoyed them as much as he did.

Jimin

While being quite silly in nature he really loves getting you practical gifts every now and then. It makes him feel useful. You make a passing comment over text about having to buy more coffee and he's over in an hour, coffee in hand, just the sort he knows you love. It got to the point where he was practically just doing your weekly shop for you with his small trips to the local corner shop. For your birthday or for Christmas he again likes to buy you useful things. You've been complaining for three months about your rice cooker not working well? Sorted. Loves to take care of you so much its actually unreal.

Taehyung

You cannot convince me this man isn't a flowers man. He'll show up at your door in the middle of the day with a bunch of flowers of the prettiest colours and all you can do about it is swoon and thank him with a kiss. Sometimes you'll get into work or school and just find your favourite flowers with a little card on it telling you that he loves you. It would melt his heart even more if you kept the petals and dried them to do something with as a reminder that he loves you. I don't think he would let a week go by without you having a fresh pair of flowers in a vase in your kitchen. Biggest simp in the universe.

Jungkook

I think that Kookie would melt at the idea of you wearing something that he made. Because that means only you have that thing and no one else does. He would definitely spend hours threading on beads onto thread for a bracelet for you or painting a canvas for your house. It just proves to him that you're his because you don't wear or hang up things which other people make for you. He honestly feels like the most special guy in the world when you have his homemade clay earrings through your ears and are smiling at him from across the room. Gets so sad when he sees you wearing a normal necklace or bracelet because why would you wear that when you could wear one that he made?

Taglist: @dreamescapeswriting @sparkyprotectionsquad @bang-me-chan

Credit: Header by @b-bunnykoo

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

[jamespotterthefirst]

All-Nighter (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.9K Warning: Language and alluded sexual situations Premise: He’d do anything for her, even fly across the country on moment’s notice. 

A/N: If Ethan had gone to Vegas to spend a full night with MC. Crack and fluff. Sorry! 

12:26 am

Ethan had never understood the appeal of Vegas. The city, crawling with gaudy exhibitionism, reckless gambling, and rowdy party-goers, had always seemed a tad tasteless to him. Even in his med school years when his cohort planned a trip to sin city, Ethan had preferred to find solace in an overpriced drink at a bar off the strip and not dancing against strangers in a stuffy nightclub. 

Now, he had been convinced (albeit too easily) to take a six hour flight to a city he would much rather avoid.

His phone pinged with a notification from her, reminding him of the adult rated texts that had inspired his impromptu trip. 

Miss you. Wish you could see me in this dress. 

Seconds after, a picture came in and Ethan almost dropped his phone on the concrete. 

And finally, she sent one final, maddening addendum: Or out of it. 

It was lucky for Ethan that he was already in the same city as her, one an elevator ride away from ripping that tempting thing off of her. 

I'm outside, he texted back. 

More than anything, he wanted to give in to the burning need to just have her in his arms.

------------------  

12:48 am

As Ethan waited outside the casino she mentioned in a previous text, however, the flashing neon lights making it almost difficult to distinguish that it was nighttime, he held a different doctor in his arms. A very drunk Dr. Lahela had haphazardly collided with him only seconds earlier, throwing an arm around him after recognition hit. Ethan was still unsure if the gesture was out of comradery or to maintain his balance. 

“Ramseyyyy,” he called out with a suave ease that was admirable in his current state. 

Before Ethan could answer, Varma and Sienna Trinh appeared at his side. The former looked just as intoxicated as Lahela, though she was doing a much better job at maintaining her balance and dignity. Sienna, however, looked sober, or sober enough to figure out why Ethan was there for she threw him a knowing smirk. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she greeted casually over the noise of the busy boulevard. “I forgot Edenbrook sent you here because of our contract with Panacea.”

It was a feeble excuse to explain his presence to the other two. It didn't matter because neither of them was listening anyway. Ethan doubted they ever questioned why he was there in the first place. 

Lahela's arm gripped him tighter as he swayed. “Dr. Ramsey, you have to come with us to the Sugar Factory. They have this drink called the fish bowl. It's exactly what it sounds like except full of candy.”

It sounded like a drink straight out of his nightmare. 

“Lahela, tell me why—” 

To his horror, the young surgeon's face lit up as he started singing. “Ain't nothing but a heartache.”

“Tell me why,” an equally drunk passerby added. 

“Ain't nothing but a mistake,” Lahela continued as others laughed and joined in. By the time they were finished, all three residents laughed hysterically while Ethan remained unmoved, silently wishing he had stayed in the blissful quiet of his apartment in Boston. 

He was reminded of why he had left the comfort of his home to venture into the wild five minutes after the group had departed for the aforementioned Sugar Factory. His eyes found her as soon as she stepped out into the street, clad in the sinfully short dress from her picture. The effect it had on Ethan felt like a punch.

Lilac spotted him too, her face alight with a combination of surprise and unrestrained elation. Before either of them could stop what was about to happen, she rushed into his arms. On instinct, he lifted her off her feet, their lips meeting in a kiss charged with promise. 

“Hi,” she greeted breathlessly when he carefully set her down. 

“Hi,” he returned, sounding just as affected. 

“I had to come out here to make sure you were really here. I can't believe you actually came,” she all but exclaimed, voice laced with giddy happiness. It made his stomach leap pleasantly, inspiring a foolish grin he didn't care to fight back anymore. 

“Me neither,” he confessed. 

“Well, I'm glad you did. I like this spontaneous Ethan Ramsey who flies across the country on a whim.”

That admission sent a thrill through his body. He realized he'd do anything to see that winsome smile each time, even if it meant dropping everything and rushing to her side hundreds of miles away. 

------------------

1:32 am 

“Eight, six, seven,” Lilac was saying over the roar of the fountains and the Celine Dion song. “Five, three, oh, nine.”

She waited for a hint of recognition, but as 

she had suspected, the drunken frat boy did not understand the reference. Instead, he tapped the number into his phone and flashed her a sloppy smirk. “I'll call you later.”

Ethan appeared at her side after he was gone, shaking his head at her with a smirk. 

“Your drink, Jenny,” he said, offering her a cup that looked to be more ice than drink. 

Lilac laughed as she accepted it, her body gravitating to his side at once. A rush of dizzying joy almost overpowered her every time she realized she didn't have to fight that instinct here. 

“Funny. That's the name I gave him too,” she said taking a sip. “He was insistent and drunk beyond comprehension. I thought it'd be easier to give him a fake number.”

“You gave him a song,” Ethan commented with a laugh. A rare, taunting grin illuminated his face, rendering him the handsomest man she had ever seen. “And you could've just told him you have a boyfriend.”

She arched an intrigued eyebrow, already moving into his embrace. “I have a boyfriend, do I?” 

Ethan's free arm encircled her, casting a glow of warmth over her body. It could have been the small amount of alcohol in her system or this newfound energy that crackled between them, still fizzing with longing but considerably lighter than in the past months. 

He nodded in mock seriousness. 

“And is he the jealous type?” 

Ethan genuinely scoffed at that, his fingers aimlessly caressing her bare back. It made her skin blaze where he touched her. “Jealous of what? A sweaty frat boy crass enough to hit on a beautiful but evidently uninterested woman? Believe me, there's nothing to be jealous about.”

“Case in point,” she laughed, raising herself to kiss his nose.   

Ethan laughed too and took advantage of their sudden proximity to press his lips against hers, their kiss sweet and just as dizzying as the many desperate, passionate ones they had shared. When they parted, that fiery, striking gaze of his remained locked on hers, making her thighs quiver. 

The song in the background reached its final notes as the jets of water disappeared into the dark pool glittering in front of the lavish hotel. The crowd began to disperse but Ethan and Lilac remained on the sidewalk, basking in a content lull, his arm securely around her and her cheek pressed against his chest. She knew without asking that he was enjoying this small allowance of being a real couple just as much as she was. 

At last, her eyes fell on the replica of the Eiffel Tower across the street. In the span of a second, she wondered what it would be like to be in front of the real one, safely wrapped in Ethan's arms.  

“I wonder how it compares to the real one,” she wondered out loud. 

“I've never seen it but I'd wager it's not a true representation.” 

For some reason, she found that surprising. “You've never been to Paris?” 

“I've been for work but my time was spent doing just that. I didn't venture out much into the city to sightsee. To be honest, I didn't understand the appeal.” 

The pause that followed suggested he wanted to add more but he remained silent. When Lilac pulled back from his embrace to look at him, she found those piercing blue eyes studying her intently. 

“I know what we should do for that date you teased in your texts,” she said when she finally found the words. 

It was Ethan's turn to arch his brow at her in interest. “I thought this was our date?” 

“Yes, but we're in Vegas. There's so much to do at this hour. And besides, you promised me all night in one of your texts.”

The crooked smile he gave her along with the wicked glint in his eye should have been illegal. He leaned in and whispered darkly, “That's not what I meant.”

Five words and she was all over him, kissing him in ways that were inappropriate even for Vegas. They broke apart and Ethan looked at her expectantly. 

“So what's this idea for our date?” he prompted when Lilac merely stared at him, lips still burning from his kiss. 

“Oh, right. I was thinking since we were both two giant nerds who powered through med school and never traveled—”

At this, Ethan shook his head, amused. 

“—we could each pick something to do here in Vegas that feels like traveling to somewhere remote.”

“But instead we'll be in a loud casino, surrounded by obnoxious crowds and exposed to secondhand smoke?” 

Lilac rolled her eyes which made him laugh. 

“Fine, I'll do it. But you pick first.”

---------------

2:17 am

As they glided through the clear waters, Ethan had to admit he could see the appeal in the faux gondola ride. Even if it was romantic, the critical part of him dwelled on the fact that the canals of Venice did not smell strongly of chlorine. He almost voiced the cynical observation out loud, before he remembered this was her idea and the last thing he wanted was to offend her. Although, he was certain Lilac would only laugh and playfully shove him. 

But Lilac was not taunting him, which should have been his first indication that something was off. She wasn't even marveling at the painted ceiling of the casino or making snide comments about the high end shops at the edge of the water and the people who shopped there. Instead, she pressed firmly against his side, her nails digging into his shirt. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured. 

Lilac plastered on the weakest attempt at a smile. Ethan only waited until she dropped the act and said, “Is it weird that the water is freaking me out?” 

Ethan considered that. “Are you afraid of open water?” 

Lilac shook her head. “No, or I would have never suggested this. But once we got in and started moving, the water just looked terrifying?” 

Ethan gave her reassuring smile. “We can get off if you want.”

Again, she shook her head with a brave determination that made his stomach flutter. She was entirely too adorable, even without trying. 

“No, I'll be fine,” she said through a steadying breath. “I'll just refrain from looking at the creepy water. And I'll try not to think about what we'll do if this thing flips over.”

“Rookie, the water is three feet deep. If we capsize we can just...get up on our feet.”

Lilac's eyes moved to meet his at the words. They stared at each other in the golden glow of their surroundings, their expressions unreadable. The silent seconds stretched until they both dissolved into hearty and borderline hysterical laughter. 

Ethan tried his best to sober up first, but when he was close to regaining his composure, he would meet her eye and then they'd both continue to laugh relentlessly. He was aware that they were drawing curious looks from the people observing from the bridges. Even the gondolier cast them a questioning look but said nothing. 

Ethan didn't care. 

It was the happiest he had felt in weeks, amidst everything that had happened. 

They finally sobered and Lilac sighed, much more at ease than before. When she settled against Ethan, it was with her hand softly pressed against his chest, directly over the heartbeat that pounded fiercely for her. 

------------

3:31 am

The plan had been to go dancing at the Egyptian themed casino, much to her companion's dismay. In the end, she won against his protest and Lilac was feeling particularly proud of herself for talking Ethan Ramsey into going to a nightclub. Then again, she hadn't missed how his eyes occasionally traveled along the expanse of her plunging neckline or how his fingers trailed along her exposed back whenever he held her. A lot of the credit was owed to the dress. 

Which is probably why they never made it to the nightclub. Instead, they hastily detoured to the penthouse suite the leeches at Panacea paid for, their hands and lips on one another for the majority of the journey there. 

Thirty minutes after ensuring they were truly alone, the miraculous dress lay pooled on her bedroom floor, completely forgotten. Meanwhile, Ethan moved against her in ways that made her scream out his name. As they both reached the peak, Lilac leaned in to whisper exactly what she wanted him to do. 

With a grunt, Ethan obeyed wholeheartedly. 

“Your turn,” she panted minutes later as she rolled off of him. 

“As you wish,” he said, the words interrupted as he too struggled to catch his breath. “Although you know I prefer it when you take the lead.”

She laughed. “No, your turn to pick a place to go next.”

Ethan flipped on his side, offering her the sexiest grin. God, she was really thinking about sleeping with him again, mere minutes after the first round. 

“I thought I picked this one,” he teased, his voice thick and heavy in ways that made her center pool with heat. 

“We both picked this one,” she argued before she kissed him. 

-------------

3:47 am

Ethan only pretended to consider their next destination. The truth was that he knew the answer since the moment she suggested it in front of the fountains. 

They only had to leave the bed, a feat that was more challenging than it sounded. 

Lilac, far more determined than Ethan, even got as far as slipping back into the lacy black underwear he had removed with his teeth earlier. The deliberately coy smile she sent his way when she realized he was staring, however, had his hands on her hips in seconds. 

“Fucking hell, Lilac,” he murmured against her mouth as he pulled her on top of him for the second time that hour. 

----------

4:59 am

After a third failed attempt to get out of bed, which resulted in both of them making good on the promises they made in their earlier texts, Lilac sat up in bed to look at him full on. She gave him what was supposed to be a stern, admonishing look, but she knew it was half hearted because he looked at her with such adoration that she broke a smile. 

“No more distracting me. You're not getting out of picking, Ramsey.”

Ethan's eyes remained fixed on hers in the darkness of the room, his expression betraying no hints of amusement. Outside, the sky began to glow with the first rays of orange and pink, the promise of the sun's arrival setting the inky blue sky ablaze. 

She frowned, noting the lines of exhaustion on his handsome face. “Are you tired? We can just stay if—” 

“We're already here,” he said quietly. “The place I pick.” 

“Bed?” she asked with a startled laugh. “Ethan Ramsey, you are almost a romantic.”

“Almost?” His mouth betrayed a hint of a smile. “I'm offended, Rookie. But no, as wonderful as we are in bed, that's not my choice.”

Ethan didn't elaborate, the small crease between his brows suggesting he was deep in thought. Every so often, his eyes flickered to hers, holding her gaze briefly before they moved away just as quickly.  

“I'm not—” he started, stopped, and tried again. “I'm not good at this kind of thing.”

A slight flush colored his angled cheekbones, so endearing that she couldn't help but kiss him. In all honesty, she wasn't any better at any of it either, only suggesting the date idea as a clichéd way for them to spend time together in a faraway city. It hadn’t been her proudest moment but had Googled ideas the moment he said he was outside. 

Nervous energy filled the room in their shared silence. 

“The only place in the world I give a damn about is by your side, Lilac,” he said at last, the words quiet but powerful enough to make her pulse clamor like bells. 

Ethan scratched the back of his head at her silence. “I was also hoping this goddamn penthouse had a balcony. I would've picked that as my date because of Miami and the first time we—” 

Lilac interrupted him with a kiss, the force of it over balancing Ethan and sending him into the pillows. She didn't care that their kiss was unceremonious and far from romantic. All she was aware of was the growing, urgent need to kiss this cheesy, romantic, brilliant man. He laughed against her lips, strong hands steadying her on top of him. 

“You're so much better at this than you give yourself credit for,” she informed him when they broke apart. 

“Good,” he said, lifting his head to kiss the curve of her neck. “I was worried there was finally something I didn't excel at.”

------------------

A/N: Meanwhile, her friends are still partying somewhere on the Strip, begging Bryce to quit drinking while he’s ahead. Those fish bowl drinks are no joke. 

Holy shit that was 3K of nothingness. If you made it this far, thank you! 

This was loosely based on my experience(s) going to Vegas, although I don’t remember most of it. Again, those fish bowl drinks will destroy you lol. 

Thank you to @aestheticartsx for your help with this mess!

P.S. Sorry about the dress in the pic not being the exact same one. I saw some that were close but the wrong color. Others were too crazy with that neckline. Ethan would’ve just dropped dead lol. 

___________

New Tags: (Hope I didn’t miss anyone!)

@openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @ethandaddyramsey, @trappedinfandoms, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself,  @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @colossalpainintheass, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, @choicesstan1, @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @mrsramseyy, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie, @nikki-2406, @lilypills, @chasingrobbie, @nooruleman, @angela8756, @lonely-mxxnlight, @ruinedbypixels, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @tsrookie, @mvalentine, @professorkingslay, @drakewalkerfantasy, @casey-v, @helloblueeyedcat, @mysticaurathings, @blossomanarchy, @thegreentwin, @togetherwearerapture, @rookieoh, @ramseysno1rookie, @rookiemarsswiftie, @natashajaniphil, @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04, @canigetanawwjunk, @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble​

Interest in this fic:

@udishaman, @a-crepusculo, @khayy19, @mercury84choices, @jlynn12273, @fireycookie 

[love-we-write]

Eccedentesiast

Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic)  Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188  Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life.  Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks   A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~!  ❤️ ❤️

And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~!  ❤️ ❤️

------------------------------------

Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this. 

With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.

At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.

Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends. 

Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah. 

He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night,  quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.

Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it. 

He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.

Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister? 

What right does he have?

So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.

Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.   

------------------------------------ 

 But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart. 

Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception. 

‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.

Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend. 

He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown. 

But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.

‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.

‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break. 

Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.

Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.

------------------------------------

‘Richy, hi.’ 

 Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction. 

From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things

‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him. 

‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’

Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.

‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’

It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.

‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’

Ah.

Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.

‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’

‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’

Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is. 

Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it. 

But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business. 

And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.

He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.

For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.

He wants to talk about it. He wants to.

‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

------------------------------------ 

And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy. 

Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…

Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.

You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.

Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance. 

You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.

But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.

But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background. 

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.

Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you. 

‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.

It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.

And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him? 

Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.

------------------------------------ 

 That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.

Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.

Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.

It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.

But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.

Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.

He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.

He needs time.

There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.

Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him. 

He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime-- 

In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.

Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----

And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.

He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.

“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.

Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.

“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.

After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.

“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”

And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you. 

He hated everything. He hated himself.

You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else. 

In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried. 

As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through. 

------------------------------------ 

[EPILOGUE]

Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst. 

He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.

“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.

“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?

“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.

“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.

“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.

“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.

“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.

His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.

[things-we-used-tc-share]

The Town That Never Was

[Image Description: a long road with decaying plants on either side, with text overlayed that reads ‘the town that never was’ in white. A white icon of a clock is placed underneath the text /end ID]

I’m re-releasing the first four chapters as I’ve edited them! 

Ships: DLAMP/CALMD, Remile. 

Warnings: Cheating is mentioned at some point during this fic in the past, some slight horror themes but in a comedic sort of way, kidnapping is mentioned but again this is like a comedy-horror so there’s not a lot of suspense. 

Plot: In Hell, a town of roughly 1,000 people, nothing that is supposed to happen ever happens and everything that physically should happen, does. Logan, a scientist, goes there in hopes of studying the world’s most unfortunate, and miraculous, town. But no one who ever enters ever finds the will to leave again.

--

Chapter One: The man who can see everything, and the scientist from normality. 

Logan has a habit that mostly includes acting first and thinking about his safety a few hours later, usually when he has a burned hand or a broken bone, and then it’s followed by a “worth it!” as he accepts his own recklessness in favour of science. Today is one of those reckless days. Well, so far it’s been a reckless week (and a reckless life), as he’s been driving for about four days now.

He sees the “Welcome to Hell,” sign that has been overgrown by an abundance of tree roots despite the fact there are no trees for miles. The blue-eyed scientist sighs to himself absently as he gets the foreboding feeling that the next week of his life, should things go the way he planned, is going to be a series of these events and as it stands he has been driving far too long to hop out of his car near sunset to run tests on tree roots that should not exist.

The sun is, by the way, setting far too early for this time of year.

As he gets within the town’s boundaries, his car radio fizzles and automatically tunes into the suddenly only available radio station; Logan assumes this is harmless and simply listens to the soft indie beats that are now playing with no issue. The sky; where the sun is setting, is painted in a brilliant red, whilst the sun itself looks to be a somewhat magnificent ball of fire (which, of course, it is, but it doesn’t usually look literally as a ball of fire, you know, the kind when some idiot in class decides to bring a lighter to school and sets the waste paper bin on fire? yeah, that sort of fire). There are tall, black pylons everywhere, and the buildings seem old and are either wooden or Greek, which is interesting because as far as Logan knows, the ancient Greeks never quite got to America, yet these buildings certainly seem very old. Impossibly old.

He already has an infinitesimal amount of questions, and he’s aware that (as warned) that small pile is going to grow over the course of his stay here.

The music stops playing and a voice tunes in over the static waves of the radio “Welcome back listeners,” The dulcet, deep tones rumble against Logan’s ears and if voices could be a point of attraction then Logan would say this is an attractive voice. “A special welcome to the mildly ominous white economical car that just rolled into town full of what appears to be an impressive amount of science equipment, I don’t know who you are but you are apparently quite handsome, so I’m certainly hoping I’ll know you at some point,” Logan flushes a little and as if the radio presenter could see him, he chuckles. “We’ll run into each other, anyway, to the regular listeners this is your usual news on the town,”

Logan pulls up outside the place he had booked to stay but as he turns off the car he can’t help but lean back to listen to the radio presenter some more. “The sun is on fire, but more so than usual, the police advise you don’t look directly into it, or do, I’m not the boss of you and you can make your own decisions for yourself,” Logan snorts a little, shaking his head full of dark curls “Three strange cult-like figures have appeared in the outskirts of the town, on the west side entrance, they don’t appear to be doing anything but simply standing there, if someone has recently attempted to summon a demon or any otherwise ominous presence, please report it to Roman, our town’s exorcist who will help you deal with this problem, unfortunately until he knows exactly what they are, there is nothing he can do to help, thank you Roman, for being as useless as ever,”

The scientist laughs then and finally turns off the radio, grabbing his bag out of the back amongst a whole load of gadgets as he walks up to the front door. He can hear voices on the other side before the front door is thrown open extravagantly to reveal a young man with unruly dirty blonde curls. Logan, who hadn’t even knocked yet, blinks with a perturbed expression “Hello?”

“Hello!” The stranger replies with a smile a little too wide and hazel eyes a little too bright. “Don’t mind Remy, he turns into a cat when he’s anxious, but come on in!” Logan exhales deeply, cheeks puffing out as he shakes his head. “Oh yes, you’re an outsider, you’re probably not used to Hell standards of weird, sorry,” The man picks up the cat and places him on top of the counter before he moves around the other side “You’re staying for a week, yes?”

“That’s the plan,” Logan chuckles “...but I’m told plans don’t tend to work out here.”

“Oh no, they never do, all rooms are booked for at least a month just in case, I’ve added a few extra days on free of charge, we don’t tend to get many visitors so I doubt they’ll go amiss,” The man scans a keycard through the computer system, it fizzes slightly and he hits the side of it before trying again. “There you go, you’re in room 13,” He hands the keycard over “...and if you need me just ring,” he taps the phone “Phone number is on the bedside table.”

“Thank you....?”

“Oh! Emile, I’m Emile, that’s Remy, he’s not a cat, he just looks like one right now,” Remy blinks two wide golden eyes at Logan, he does certainly look like a cat. “He should be back to normal when he’s finished having a tantrum.” Remy hisses in response. “Have a nice night!”

Logan decides that he’s already reaching his limit with weird and he’s only been here maybe half an hour, although his watch has also mysteriously stopped working so there’s no real way to tell. He puts on his pyjamas, climbs into bed and tries to fall asleep.

It takes him an hour and a half to do so. Roughly.

--

When he wakes up the next morning, and finishes going through the usual human morning routine, he wanders downstairs to find a man who isn’t Emile sat on the chair behind the desk with headphones on. His name tag read “Remy,” and he’s wearing sunglasses inside. Otherwise he’s completely normal; a worn down leather jacket accompanying a black shirt and ripped jeans, hanging off a man who is of normal height and stature for someone in his early 20′s.

“Sorry about being a cat when you got here,” Remy pulls an earphone out to speak, chewing on bubblegum as he does “...me and Emile were having a domestic, how is your room?”

“Adequate,” Logan replies, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “So the turning into a cat thing is that...genetic?” Remy laughs a little and shakes his head.

“In what world would that be genetic?” He kicks his feet off of the table and sits up a little straighter “No, it was a curse.” Logan nods slowly, wondering why one is less likely than the other, and then thinking that he doesn’t want to know why because then he would start thinking like a resident here, and that sounds like a nightmare. “We do have an exorcist, and he’s supposed to really be able to dabble in lots of different type of magic, but so far he’s been unsuccessful.”

The dark-haired scientist recalls the radio presenter from last night “Roman, right?” Remy nods in response.

The door opens then to let in a bright array of sunshine, and Remy scrunches his nose up in distaste, pushing his sunglasses even further up his nose as if that might have been possible. The man that is silhouetted against the door frame looks too bright, but as he speaks, Logan recognises the deep and soothing tone “Good morning, stranger.”

The door closes behind him and the man leans against the wall with a wide grin. His skin is tan, a caramel colour with light blonde hair that has been pushed to the side and back, exposing two-toned golden snake eyes. Logan is starting to regret his journey and coming here at all, and he is certainly not enjoying the way his own heart thunders in his chest, or the slight warmth to his cheeks. Perhaps it’s the sharp angles of the man’s jaw, the snakeskin that covers half of his face, or the gentle radiant glow this man has, but he is...astoundingly beautiful.

Weird shit, Logan can deal with, feelings? Not at all.

“Welcome to Hell, literally, that’s the name of this place. America’s most singularly, scientifically fucked town, where everything that shouldn’t happen, definitely does happen,” The man grins, dark eyes blinking. Logan blinks back, opens his mouth, and then decides he doesn’t have any words in his extensive vocabulary to explain this. “What brings such a handsome young man to the town?”

“Science,” Logan mutters. “I came to investigate the town, scientifically this place is fascinating, a hive of energy that exists nowhere else.” He straightens his lab coat and holds up a device that had been in his hand. “So far I’ve discovered extremely unusual readings, and...” Logan talks, he explains, and the stranger looks at him with an incredibly dopey look.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters as the scientist talks extremely enigmatically, all strangeness and shyness are forgotten as he loses himself in his interest.

“Sorry, I didn’t ask what your name was, I don’t think I caught it last night.” The tan-skinned man smiles softly before shaking his head.

“You didn’t,” Logan doesn’t know how he knows this. “My name is Deceit, but most people call me Dee, I run the radio show,” The scientist smiles and nods, offering a hand for him to shake. Deceit practically purred at the contact to his gloved hand; he can’t help it when someone so pretty comes wandering in, all fair skin and dark hair with such...enticing cobalt eyes, he has to blush a little.

But the moment of bliss is interrupted as the door opens again, slamming behind the second newcomer of the morning. Remy, who clearly does not like having visitors, sighs in annoyance and looks up to a dark-skinned man with long hair and is..dripping in jewellery. The man is holding a book in his hand and he goes to speak before he looks up, only to see Deceit (in which his gaze turns sour) and then Logan (in which his eyebrow quirks, a slow smirk crosses his face and the book snaps shut in his hand). “Remy,” The stranger has an accent that sounded to be somewhat partially American. “You have a visitor?”

The cat-like man sighs. “It would appear I have quite a few,” he unplugs the other earphone and tosses them on the table “What do you want, Roman? I told you at this point this curse isn’t that bad, plus Emile finds it harder to shout at me when I’m knee-high to a grasshopper and fluffy,”

That would be some sound logic, Logan thinks to himself, ...if he were not talking about turning into a cat. “That’s fine, there is clearly someone much more interesting to talk to,” The elegant man holds out a hand and wears a grin that is almost a little too revealing. 29 years of not being flirted with and today it happens twice one straight after another.

“As if your two boyfriends weren’t enough Roman, you hop on the poor fresh meat like he’s dessert,” Deceit cuts in, a displeased look on his face as he folds his arms across his chest.

“He certainly looks like dessert,” Roman retorts. Logan thinks blushing is going to become a hobby whilst he’s here and looks over at Remy for help.

“Dee, don’t you have a radio show to host? Roman, don’t you have a demon to maintain? Logan I have no idea what you’re here to do but I’m sure it’s more than being the ruler in a dick-measuring contest between two insufferable assholes.” There’s a beat. Roman has the audacity to blush as if he hadn’t been saying some fairly explicit things by Logan’s standards, but a moment ago.

“Oh well, I’m here too...”

“Logan, dear, you’re cute, but I spent an entire night as a cat, and my better half, who is, by the way, all of my patience and will to listen to other people, is at work, right now I’m as bitchy as I can get, please don’t try and explain to me science unless it’s the science of how to make a coffee so strong my heart will stop...” Remy’s glasses slide down his nose, revealing two bright gold cats eyes, and they narrow as they stare at Logan. “All of you, out.”

“I’ll bring you a coffee, Rem,” Roman mutters as he starts towards the door.

“Thanks, Roman.” He doesn’t sound very thankful at all.

--

Roman offers to show Logan around town, he asks about the device in the scientist’s hand but anything he says is completely lost on the bejewelled man. Who is, by the way, wearing a lot of jewellery. His hands are covered in rings that have thin chains hanging from them, connecting to bracelets or each other. His nose, lip and eyebrows are pierced twice and the entire left side of his ear has small chains hanging off of them.

He looks like a prince.

“This is the coffee shop, my boyfriends both work here, and they live upstairs too, fair warning, one of them is a demon,” Logan nods a little numbly, unsure what else he was expecting really. Does anything normal happen in this town at all?

They walk in to see a scrawny and sickly pale man behind the counter, to the point where Logan would worry about anaemia until he saw the veins that were completely onyx running underneath the skin. The demon, then. “Welcome to Hell’s Pat-isserie, what may I get you?” His voice sounds bored, but then he looks up and sees Roman and his face lights up.

“Just a latte please,” Logan smiles nervously.

“That will be the cost of your soul please,” The demon’s voice darkens and shakes like lightning, Logan has to admit he felt a slight spike of fear before both the pale man and Roman start laughing.

“Virgil I keep telling you to stop doing that!” Logan looks up at the sound of a new voice, only to inhale sharply by what he’s greeted with. A man, with soft, freckled cheeks and a round face that has so clearly smiled so much, bounces up with stray blonde curls falling around his face. He bats a tea towel at the demon (Virgil, Logan assumes), before fixing Logan with a wide and blinding smile.

Blushing is indeed becoming a hobby.

“Roman, you’re late, help me with the coffee machine won’t you love? It’s jammed again the stupid bloody thing.” The man’s voice is as soft as his appearance dictates, and he hands the tea towel to Roman, who vaults over the counter to help. Then his attention focuses on Logan and he’s not entirely sure his heart can handle those pale blue eyes. “Sorry about these two, they’re a handful, just a latte was it? That’ll be $3.50,” Logan hands over the money with a dazed expression. As he’s handed his change, he can’t resist asking.

“What’s your name?”

“Patton, you?”

“Logan.” Patton smiles again, and Logan can’t help but liken it to the first flowers blooming in spring, and other cheesy metaphors that people come up with when they think about love at first sight.

“Well, Logan, take a seat, and we’ll bring your coffee over shortly,” A pause “...and thanks for keeping Roman out of trouble, it’s practically his day job,”

The scientist can’t help but absently think he’d hold back an inconclusive amount of danger to see Patton smile again. Then he reminds himself that he has a job to do; even if the rate of his own heart around these men is the strangest thing that has happened to him since he arrived in Hell. He can't afford diversions.

[readreadbookblog]

You Never Forget Your First: A Biography of George Washington by Alexis Coe

https://www.amazon.com/You-Never-Forget-Your-First/dp/0735224102

It is commonly known now that not only is history written by the victors, but mostly by old white men. That must be why there was strong praise for Alexis Coe’s book, You Never Forget Your First: A Biography of George Washington, when it was first released. Besides having maybe the best cover for a book on Washington, Coe’s book also has the distinction being the first Washington biography written by a woman.

Having all this information, I expected an interesting look/take on Washington, especially regarding how after almost two years of reading books dedicated  solely on the first president, they all start to sound the same with little details or insights differing depending on the author.

Coe begins her book with a preface that destroys previous mentions of Washington’s mother, Mary. Usually depicted as an old, cranky, self-centered, controlling mother to the great general, Mary is shown by Coe as not that but rather a woman of her times. All her thoughts and actions not only reflection her life experiences but are the norms of several colonial-era women of the time that were also women that suffered from weak family prestige, loss of husband/children, agrarian housewife, poor, and frontier life. Coe really takes a beating to Ron Chernow, who she justifiably points out how Chernow added his only male bias to Mary’s text and words, not taking into account her environment or time period that she was living in and made a good counterpoint using said evidence that Mary was actually a thoughtful and caring mother whom Washington doesn’t seem to harbor ill temper or see her as a burden. I personally kicked myself for taking Chernow’s words to heart in this, not applying my own personal thinking skills. A often repeated quote is that “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.” Coe points out that this type of error often occurs because male historians often focus and write more on Washington’s military feats and history, relegating other social history either aside or to female historian. This is why Coe was the first woman to write a straight biography of Washington, while other women were to write on Washington and his relations to say the constitution or slavery or just a biography on his wife, Martha, instead.

Coe calls these male historians ‘The Thigh Men’, as they often over emphasis not just Washington’s abnormal height, but also other parts of his with the most attention centering on his stone unfazed face. They “...take every opportunity to remind readers that the great general was very, very manly” (xxxii). But all this historic revisionism all takes place in the first two chapters of the book (technically not even the first two but rather the preface and introduction). The rest of the short book is not really written as a tradition book but more in a reference per chapter. For example, if you want to read about Washington’s spies, there is a chapter dedicated solely to that and only that. You are not going to find any other references outside of said chapter. There is chapter dedicated to Washington’s romantic life but never mentioned again. This seriously hurts the book’s value as Washington resource. His secret failed but continuous letter writing flirtatious affair with Sally Fairfax is really not seen as such but rather told in a sentence, loosing it’s significance. The Revolutionary War comes and goes in less than three chapters, again pointing out the major feats and accomplishments that Washington had but the hardship and suffering is pretty much glossed over. With the easy and non formal writing of Coe, at times it feels like the book was written in a listial Buzzfeed style book.

So Coe’s book fizzes out after the first ten pages basically. I would say that Coe’s first two chapters of this book are must read material of any Washington scholar or reader, and then move on to something like Chernow’s book. His book isn’t bad or unusable simply because he did some pretty big errors in writing his biography on Washington, it still is a good book and resource, even Coe herself still recommends it. Just remember to be a smart reader. And this advice goes not just for Chernow or any other history book, but really for life in general.

[twilightpoison]

Alright so this will contain spoilers for chapters 7 to chapter 21. Also this is unedited and I ramble so good luck reading this lol.

So I wanted to add something to MC. So it was in the other post that we were thinking that MC had photographic memory, but when we panicking THEY WILL NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING. I say this but I’m going to like say that the only time this was not the case when they were in the labyrinth and had to remember how to summon Asmo.

Speaking of Asmo. I said before his was the longest to get but after the end of that night MC would tell him that they were still uncomfortable and to wait for them. Which is were Solomon comes in. The three of them hang out together a lot and that will help MC relax around Asmo more. I give it like a week and half maybe more maybe less. I like to think there are grace periods between the shinanagines. Then when they go back it doesn’t really change? Whether or not Solomon and MC live together is debatable but you bet they all hang out together as much as possible.

SPEAKING OF. Ok have i mention that MC and Solo are like siblings? Like I imagine during the ball when Luci is threatening you, Solomon just steps in like “Hello I am the brother your scaring the baby which is my job.” Then turning around and going “Yeah so lie ignore what he said I’m giving you part of my power to cause shinanagines.” And MC is just screaming internally because they don’t want to but given how these past months went it will actually happen.

I would love to switch topics and bring up something small I mentioned before. MC is the type to not be able to sleep and during one of these nights they probably passed Lucifer’s door to see that the light was still on. So they go the the kitchen, text him if he wants tea, coffee or a snack. Usually its just coffee but MC would take it to him and they exist in the same room until MC feels like they can sleep.

Anyway, we also talked about Satan knowing through his search on the internet about MC’s job, and how he’ll just casually weave it into a conversation leaving MC just confused. He would probably see MC on the same spectrum to him. While he collects knowledge for power MC collects knowledge to feel safe.

During the video game part of his arc, is when they really sit down and actually interact the most. MC giving him the full explanation on why they do the show and the things they learn through their research. They literally spend a whole in game day talking about demonology the others are just in the background like wtf?

YO THE MURDER ON THE TRAIN THOUGH?

BEFORE THAT MC WALKING THROUGH LONDON ONE OF THE BROTHER I THINK ASKED IF THEY WERE HAPPY TO BE BACK AND THIS MC IS JUST LIKE “Oh yeah definitely! Last time i was in London me and Solomon tried to solve a famous murder case! Oh then there was that haunted tavern- *gasp* WAIT ARE WE NEAR COLCHESTER CASTLE?” Their London videos are one of their favorites because i like to think MC is a history nerd sometimes.

Anyway the murder on the train. As Mammon, Luci and Satan are talking about doing things the ‘Demon way’ MC is just like. “Guys I’m and investigator leave this to me!” “Your a paranormal investigator. Let us handle this.” Luci would say but MC just points to Grisella. “THERE IS A LITERAL GHOST AND YALL ARE DEMONS LET ME HANDLE THIS.”

That scene has been in my head for weeks I’m sorry.

Then the horror game prank? Oh hell nah. MC is TERRIFIED. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t cry or something. Like yeah they live with demons lol but the fact that magic exists still hasn’t settled in and now that its actively effecting the people they grew to love they are freaking out.

This is getting a lot longer then I had anticipated so I’ll wrap things up and add to these ideas later. If anyone wants me to elaborate on something let me know.

So coming towards the end of the events when Belphie is out and everything. At first I see MC being very wary about getting close to him. But then they see his brothers acting awkward and avoiding him. MC would feel bad, but they cant bring themselves to automatically hang out with him. So what they do is start by just being near him. Not necessarily talking but just being in the same room or near by. Getting used to his presence. Then slowly building up interactions to get to what we see in the game before the belated welcome party/birthday party.

When its time to leave Solomon would probably also stick behind to wait for MC to go home. Each of the brothers would most likely say the same thing as they do in the game but add in something about their job. Like “if you piss any demons off make sure to call one of us.” Or something.

I already talked about how their show would slowly turn into more of a informational show.

SO THE RETURN. Solomon would 100% drag MC to a portal to hell with a handheld camera. He vlogs saying that they are going to go back to hell for a while to there wont be any videos. THEN PUTS THE CAMERA ON THE FLOOR WHILE MC IS JUST LKE “WHAT? EXCUSE ME? I DIDNT SIGN UP FOR THIS!” And disappear on camera.

Solomon before hand had one of their editors (who is likely a demon he has a pact with) upload that and their fans just FREAK OUT. Like I imagine magic messes with human tech so the camera just fizz out and they hear the spell and like that they are both gone.

God this is turning into a full fanfic idea... I should probably write it at this point with how detailed its becoming. ;;;;;

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 21- Professional Rivals (Very, very late)

...yeah. I am. Very behind. But I’m trying to work on it

I wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret this prompt. I ended up going with something a bit superhero-esque again, but a lot more lighthearted than the last one, sort of inspired by Dr. Doofenschmirtz and Perry the Playpus. Nothing too dark or serious, just kind of dumb.

Sin let the weight of his body more than anything else push the door open to his apartment as soon as he felt the lock click. He managed to avoid stumbling over and hitting the carpet face-first, but only barely. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him in the state he was in. Though he did notice a pair of slip-ons by the door, which made his shoulders sag further with an emotion he didn’t have a word for.

“Hey, Mattie.” He called into the empty space, slumping against the door behind him. “I’m back.”

Soft footsteps echoed somewhere in the bathroom. “Sin? You’re home already?”

He managed to stand himself up again and take a few tentative steps, clinging onto the gash on his arm that had just barely begun to clot. “Yeah, ran out of tasks to do so they let me out early. Bridget on the night shift again?”

“No, he should be home in a few minutes, hence why I was so surprised it was you and not him.” Sin sat down on his bed and watched as the silhouette in the bathroom moved towards the doorframe. “He’s bringing pizza with him, though, so at least we have that to look forward-

The two of them paused in place, completely halted by the sight of each other’s state.

“...Wow.” They said, in perfect unison. “You look terrible.”

Sin ran a hand through his hair, immediately regretting it when he realized he was staining it with blood. “Hehe. Yeah, rough day at work today.”

“That looks remarkably painful.” Bedman limped over, a hand hovering over Sin’s cut arm. “You’re all scraped up...what happened?

++++++

Sin soared over the cityscape in a ball of lightning, sparks crackling off his skin in iridescent arcs. He wiped the blood running from his nose and tried to focus on the dark cloud hovering up ahead.

“You’re gonna have to hit harder than that to do me in, big guy!” He shouted over the rush of wind. With a few more sharp bursts, he was at eye-level with the peculiar contraption. “Brought a new toy today? Hope it’s sturdier than the one I trashed last week!”

His taunting was interrupted by a series of metallic clicks. A dozen or so little objects were ejected from the hovercraft, which unfolded into hovering metal discs that immediately began chasing after him.

“W-whoa- !” Sin shouted, barely managing to dodge their sharp blades.

“Don’t be getting cocky, dear Mr. Raiden!” A warped, mechanical voice resounded from the main machine. “You look so cute scared out of your mind!”

Sin grinned back at him. “Y’think I’m scared, Oneiroi?” He fired off another bolt, making one of them explode. “I’m just hoping these ones are an actual challenge this time!”

Heroics weren’t quite where he’d seen himself ending up, but he couldn’t have been happier. Saving the day, stopping the bad guy, and getting out a bit of extra energy. It wasn’t the most high-stakes hero town, he was the only one there, after all (and he couldn’t remember the last time Oneiroi had made a fully serious plan as far as he knew) but Sin was perfectly happy where he was.

Well, most of the time. In his distraction, a blade whizzed by, drawing blood and leaving a mark Sin didn’t even feel until a few moments later.

The remote drones immediately freezed in the air, bobbing harmlessly. “Oh- oh shit.” The electronic voice’s tone suddenly shifted, from aggrandizing and pompous to concerned. “That wasn’t supposed to do that. You okay?”

“Nggh- I’m fine.” He wasn’t done for the day, and he certainly wasn’t going to throw in the towel as soon as he’d gotten nicked! That was just pathetic, for both of them.

“Are you sure? I can give you a minute to sit down-”

Grinning under his mask, Sin grabbed the nearest drone and spun before hurling it right back at where it had come from, wreathed in electricity.

“Sit on this!”

++++++

“Bit of a funny story.” Replied Sin, grinning with a bit of cheek. “Was helping deliver another truckload of slate across the 4 & 15, and I guess they did a shitty job blowing up the tires or something, whole thing toppled right into some poor old lady’s backyard!”

His roommate seemed to find it much less funny, mouth opening in quiet shock before he uneasily sat down on the nearest bed.

“A car accident?? And you didn’t think to tell Bridget or I about this? Not even a text?!”

Sin threw up his hands, immediately wincing and going back to grabbing his arm. “Easy, man! I was fine, It wasn’t a big deal! Besides, you didn’t mention whatever happened to you.” He gestured to the other, a lot more carefully. “What’s with that ding on the back of your head? And why’s your wrist bandaged up?”

++++++

“DANGER. DANGER. SHIELD TAKING DAMAGE.”

“ -agh!” the projectile had managed to knock his ship’s gyroscope off a bit when it struck, throwing him into the far wall console. He winced at the sore, and not to mention wet spot on the back of his head when he went to touch it. He’d seen much worse, but it would definitely take a few days to heal.

He knew he was vulnerable, but a second hit didn’t come. “Uh, you okay in there?” A slightly muffled voice came through the speakers. “Too much?”

After making sure it hadn’t been damaged, Bedman patched through to the speaker system with his helmet. “Are you being facetious? That hardly scuffed my outer plating! You’re going to have to do better than that to damage- khh- ow-” He winced, immediately sitting back down as soon as he’d tried to prop himself up with his free hand. Had he twisted it? At least it wasn’t his writing arm…

“Seriously, need a breather?” The other said.

“N-no! I’m perfectly fine!” He managed to scrabble to his knees with one arm, clinging onto the control panel for support as he pulled himself up, panting with effort. He tried to grin wickedly. “But while you were distracted, Raiden, you have unwittingly lowered your guard! Take this!”

He slammed a fist down on one of the large, brightly-colored buttons (a bit cliche, but they were helpful for his astigmatism). The sound of rockets firing off was supposed to sound, but he found himself tilting his head at the silence.

“Uh...Oneiroi?” Raiden’s voice came through again. “Tech error?”

“No! No, I’m sure I just hit the wrong-” He smacked it again, but still nothing. “Um…”

A little sigh followed it. “Yeah, let’s- let’s take five, okay?”

++++++

“Well, erm, there was a bit of an incident down at the office.” He shrugged innocently. “Shiina asked me to refill the printer trays, and I thought it would be a good idea to bring the paper bundles up the stairs- you know, exercise and building muscle and all that- but I wasn’t as careful as I could have been, I suppose, and I...erm, fell down from the top step.”

Sin cringed. “Yikes. That’s gotta hurt. Definitely made a good call, wrapping it up.”

“And it looks like you should do the same.” Bedman walked off and came back with the first-aid kit and a wet washcloth, the latter of which he pressed against Sin’s arm. “Just sit still. So aside from that, was the rest of your day okay?”

“Yeah, totally, everything was fine. You?”

“I was having a bit of a rough patch, but I had a nice talk with one of the other coders, that was nice.”

“Oh, really?”

++++++

The front panel of the hovercraft had folded over into a neat little platform that now hosted a cooler and a foldout chair.

“You don’t drink, right? Lemon-Lime Fizz?” The villain asked, offering a can to his rival. Raiden continued to hover a few feet away, though in a perfectly comfortable lounge.

“Ooh, yeah, toss me that.” He cracked the can open as soon as it hit his fingers. “So what’s up? You seem out of it.”

Oneiroi tapped fingers on his helmet. “I guess I just feel a little off today. Didn’t expect you would notice.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, man! You’re my nemesis! I notice these things.”

He supposed that was true, and it was nice. He could remember nervously typing up a memo on Heroes4Villains.com (‘M25 evil engineer, coder and aspiring megalomaniac seeking monogamous hero rival, serious applicants only, please!) at a fellow villain’s behest. He’d never had a real nemesis, but he was happy having Raiden. A bit dense, but he was a skilled electromancer and he made for an excellent enemy to battle on a regular basis.

He thought a moment before speaking. “Am I not adequately menacing? I’m worried I’ve gotten...a bit out of practice, as it were.”

Raiden blinked in shock, before shaking his head and waving him down. “Nah, man! You’re totally menacing! Those new drones of yours were super scary!”

“You really thought so?”

“Yeah!”

“Maybe I should commit to the motif a bit more?” He pulled out a roll of blueprints and unfurled it. “I had a concept saved for an army of robotic sheep with laser eyes, but the outer casing was complicated and I wasn’t sure if it was too...what’s the word…’hokey?’ I’m no Terumi or anything but I’d like to avoid coming across as too silly, you know?”

“I get you, totally.” Raiden nodded. “I think a lot of villains aren’t into the whole ‘motif’ thing anymore, but I totally get wanting to have a theme. And those tend to be some of your most creative plots! Remember the time you flooded city hall with nightmare gas during the benefactor’s dinner? That was iconic!”

Oneiroi looked down at his blueprints again. “Perhaps I could give this model another go...I know I didn’t exactly have a whole plan thought out for next tuesday. Maybe I could use my laser sheep to kidnap the mayor…?"

The other man smiled in approval. “Sounds good to me! Mayor Whitefang sounded like he needed a break from desk work too, he could probably use another kidnapping-for-ransom. It’s been a while since you did that!”

As he went to say something, a light began to blink and beep on Oneiroi’s gauntlet. “I wasn’t expecting that to pop up so soon.”

“Got a call or something?”

“Promised I’d help another villain remodel their evil lair, I wanted to cancel but they couldn’t get anyone else to help out. Is it fine if I leave early?”

Raiden nodded again. “Sure, sure man, by all means. I get it. Uh, and this is why you never underestimate the power of the good guys?”

“Of course. Curse you, Raiden? I’ll beat you next time?”

++++++

“...Yeah. It was nice.”

“Well, guess it wasn’t that bad of a day after all!” Sin beamed, throwing his bandaged arm around his roommate’s shoulders as soon as he had finished. “And now, all we’ve gotta do is chillax and wait! Hopefully Bridget ‘ll be back soon with dinner.”

“I don’t suppose we would happen to be getting garlic knots, as well…?

“You know it!”

“Excellent.”

[lightskinrry]

Dance.

the one where the date sucks and dancing is a good coping mechanism but you’re still a dumbass (part two of Pivot)

A/N: Part two of Pivot!!! Thanks for the love!! I hope you enjoy this shit!!!

Word Count: 4.1k

TW: fluff….. like if you thought Pivot was cute…. This is going to kill you

thank you Sierra @belladonna-styles for supporting my shit and making my english decent!!!

Read Part One!

London grew fast on you. Bexley didn’t seem like such a hellhole after a few months and your apartment didn’t feel like the worst decision you’ve ever made anymore. You finally got enough money to furnish the place and even had a little extra for a new book. Of course by furniture, you meant; an Ikea table, a second hand sofa, Harry’s mattress, two shelves that you filled with books and records and a green plant that was going to die by the end of the month if you didn’t give her the attention she deserved. She was quite like you actually; about to die if she didn’t get attention. You called her Bob, it seemed to fit her quite well.

You started working in a fancy restaurant in Kensington. It was hard work for not such a good pay but the neighborhood was lovely and on your tube ride back home, old little ladies would give you candies and sex advise you definitely didn’t need but also didn’t refuse. Working in Kensington did teach you something; rich people are skinflint. You probably never saw a good tip-bill ratio. They would pay hundreds of pounds for their meals and leave a £5 tip… Ridiculous. But you had to go with it, and try not to murder anybody that would treat you like crap despite your kindness and helpfulness.

The only good things that came out from working there, other than the candies was the free meals and the cute waiter at the bar. You plucked up enough courage to ask him out last night and he accepted. Proposing you a date on Friday night. You were so looking forward to this date; not only because he had beautiful brown eyes, large hands and smelled good but because it’s been ages since you had an actual date. You broke up with your girlfriend two months before you moved to London. You were together for so long you thought she would be the one. Your one and only. But it turned out that she had another one in mind and you were never her only. Part of you hated her and the other part hated yourself. It was her fault everything went wrong, but also perhaps you were never good enough for her?

If you always had good self-esteem and sometimes you were overly confident, getting cheated on by your partner of 2 years did shatter your ego like crazy. So dating was more of putting on a performance for you than actually trying to know someone. But you felt different about this one, who knows what it could bring? You were eager to find out.

Regarding your weird craving to kiss Harry the night of your moving in, you realized you just needed to show him more affection and you didn’t know how. You spent days together after he helped you move in and the ‘i want to kiss him’ thing didn’t surface again. You brushed it off and didn’t overthink it. He left a month later your move in and got back in London last night. You couldn’t wait to get caught up on what happened in LA and even if he wanted the album to be a surprise, you knew he was throwing hints in every conversation. So you’d spend hours listening to him talk about it, hanging on every word he’d say, bathing in his stories, just giving him your full attention because that’s what he deserved. And you just loved listening to him.

Friday night came sooner than you expected. You spent your afternoon pampering yourself, trying on clothes and watching Buzzfeed Unsolved because your upcoming date (and what you hoped would be your upcoming boyfriend) mentioned once that he liked the show. You knew you didn’t have to go all the way but you wanted the date to be perfect. Harry told you that being yourself was the best way to go and he was right, there was nothing not to love about yourself. But a little extra wouldn’t hurt.

You hesitated between pants and dress for hours. But finally set your mind on a mid-thigh golden silk dress that complimented your figure just right. After all, he invited you to a lovely restaurant in Soho, you had to put on something worth the ride. Harry texted you a good luck text filled with compliments and his usual “All the love.” You were ready for your date now and was just as nervous as excited.

You rode the tube all the way to Soho and walked to the restaurant. He told you he’d be there by 8pm and you were a little ahead so you went inside and sat at the bar. You ordered grenadine, not wanting to consume alcohol before his arrival. Your phone vibrated in your purse and you checked it to find a message from Harry telling you to call him if the guy’s a creep. You smiled at the sight of his protective behaviour. It was still good to know that he had your back, in case.

After your second grenadine, you started feeling anxious. It was already 8:30 and no one showed up. You didn’t even receive a “sorry I’ll be late” text.

It was now the third waiter you sent away after he asked you if you were to get a table. It was past 9 now and you had no hope anyone would show up. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to cry for something as stupid as being stood up. But it hurt. It just did. Why would he stand you up? You thought he was interested? He didn’t even text you to cancel or postpone. What a dick. You grabbed your purse and went out of the restaurant in a hurry. You stood outside for a minute, taking long breaths; trying not to let the tears fall out on your face. It would ruin your makeup.

You started walking fast to the subway, not wanting to spend another minute out. You ran into someone and apologized when your phone vibrated inside of your hand. You inhaled deeply before looking at it, expecting a message from the jerk who stood you up tonight. You opened your phone and found a text from Harry.

Bambi sent a message

How’s it going?

You felt the tears grow inside of your eyes at the sight of the message and you didn’t want to alarm Harry. You just typed in that everything was okay. Next thing you knew another text popped in.

Really? Why you’re on your phone, then?

You could almost hear his cheeky tone through text. He knew you well. You didn’t want to lie to him, and what else would you do anyway? So you just answered quickly before putting your phone away.

Got stood up.

You walked a few more minutes before you heard your phone ring inside of your purse. You picked it up and answered but before you could say anything, the person at the other end spoke.

“Where are you? I’m picking you up.”

“Harry… There’s really no need to…”

He cut you off. “It’s cool, I’m already in my car. I’m picking you up.”

You sighed through the phone. “You really don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. That’s why I’m calling you.”

You smiled at his answer. “I’m in Soho. Next to Oxford Circus station.”

“I’ll be there in ten. You can walk up to Piccadilly so we meet up there?”

You took a look around, checking what way Piccadilly was. “Sure. Call me when you’re there.”

“See you in 10, Milkie.”

He hung up and you started walking. The other station was just a few miles away so you walked slowly, taking the time to clear your mind and get rid of the negative energy. You didn’t want to project negativity and especially not to Harry. You met him almost three years ago now and you grew so fond of him. He was always there for you and the last thing you wanted to do was to pressure him with unnecessary emotional labor.

You arrived at the station and within a few minutes Harry texted you. You saw his car down the road and walked fast to it. You opened the door and jumped in. He smiled at you and you went to kiss his cheek to greet him.

“Seatbelts on.”

You grinned and put on your seatbelt while he started driving. He stopped the car a few miles down where he could park easily.

“So… What do you want to do?”

You asked as you watched him squeeze in his seat to turn around and face you.

“How about I take you out to a nice place and we get pissed drunk?”

You chuckled at his proposition. It did sound appealing.

“That sounds good to me, Bambi.”

He smugly shrugged and started the car. “Then let’s go.”

He drove for a few minutes and in the meantime you took his phone to go through his spotify playlist and play some music. He parked in an underground parking before getting out of the car, he went to your side to open your door. He reached out his hand to help you get out of the car. You gently grabbed it and carefully stepped out. He closed the door and took a minute to look at you.

“Wow. You look incredible, Milkie.”

Your cheeks burned as his glistening gaze went all over you. You smiled shyly and whimpered. “Stop, Harry.”

He smirked down at you. “Alright, I’ll stop but this dress fits you wonderfully.”

You looked down at yourself and smiled. When your eyes met his, he just tilted his head to the side to make you understand he meant it. You rolled your eyes at him before smiling to yourself. Harry complimenting you was always a huge ego boost and you needed that tonight.

You walked next to him and he placed his arm around your shoulders.

“So Milkie, any idea where we going?”

Harry always knew about nice underground parties where there was good music, fun people and nobody to bother him. You shook your head no and kept walking. You just knew it was going to be good. And even if it sucked, Harry was there and it couldn’t be better than with him.

***

The party was going rather well. After a few shots, a lot of dancing and laughing, you went to sit next to Harry; who was sipping on a Gin Fizz and talking with a woman that you guessed was Alexa but you couldn’t quite tell in the dark.

You dropped your ass on the couch next to him and he placed his arm around your shoulder as an instinctive move. Alexa giggled at something Harry said, before addressing the two of you.

“I didn’t know it got serious between you two!”

You looked at her confused and then gazed at Harry. In the moment where you and him looked at each other, the realization of what she meant struck you, and you and Harry started laughing.

You shook your head at Alexa. “Oh no! No! We’re not…”

You looked at him and giggled a last time as he took a sip of his beverage. Alexa apologized for assuming you two were together. It wasn’t the first time someone made a comment about how cute you two would be. You were quite physically close because both of you were touchy-feely and affectionate. It was like the nicknames, just a way of showing affection. It was a tender friendship.

Alexa got up to get some drinks asking you if you wanted anything. You politely declined as you already had a Malibu waiting for you that Harry ordered. You grabbed your glass and tried finding the straw with your mouth. As Alexa left, another woman and what seemed to be her partner took her place. Harry greeted them and you did too.

You watched the conversation flow between the couple and Harry, and your head fell back on his shoulder as you were carefully listening to him, taking a sip of your drink from time to time. Harry’s arm was still around your shoulders and your hand was resting on his thigh. Just casual touch that still got you some side-eye by the couple. A strand of hair fell on your face but you were too lazy to pick it up. It’s when Harry took a look at you that his hand reached your face to brush the strand away, his fingertips gently stroking your skin in the moment.

“So how long have you been together? You two are a really cute couple!”

The woman’s voice resounded above the music and the other girl next to her added a word too.

“Looks fresh to me!”

Harry chuckled at the comments and placed his glass on the table before answering.

“We’re just friends.”

It didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable; he actually tightened his embrace. It didn’t make you uncomfortable either but it was fun to see that most people associate casual affection with romance. It was just a good form of intimacy between the two of you. Just like talking about your insecurities in the dark. Or singing I Will Survive at the top of your lungs in the car. You and Harry were just very comfortable together.

The two women brushed the conversation off and started talking about something else. You finally decided to get up, one of your favorite song was playing and even if you were tired, you were also tipsy enough. You pulled on Harry’s hand.

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head no and you pleaded before letting go. You walked to the dancefloor and started moving. Your eyes never leaving Harry, begging him to come dance with you from afar. He finally gave in and walked up to you. You started dancing together, shaking your hair, and throwing your hands in the air. Sometimes your hands would fall back on his chest or you would turn around and he’d place his hands on your waist. You were dancing eyes closed, moving against Harry, your back against his chest, not minding anything around you at all. The voice of the girl next to you brought you back to reality.

“You two look so hot together!”

You felt Harry laugh against you. “Yeah. We do. Thanks.”

His answer left you confused for a second but you chose to play with it. “I’m the one who makes it hot!”

The girl snickered at your comment before asking, “How long you’ve been together?”

The music was so loud you didn’t quite get her question but you heard Harry answer, “A few months!”

You turned to face him and met his usual smirk plastered on his face. The girl tapped on your arm. “I hope this is going to last!” She kept dancing and faded in the crowd.

“A few months?” You asked as you raised your eyebrows at Harry.

“Yeah. ‘Was going for years but then I figured out it wouldn’t be plausible.”

You chuckled and shook your head at him. “Glad to know we’re dating.”

“What kind of couple are we?” He laughed as he grabbed your hand to take you out of the dancefloor. You two taking your seats back.

“I think we’d be the annoying type.”

He pinched his lips in reflection and shrugged. “Most likely.”

“We’d be annoying and kinky.” You giggled as you faked a claw at him.

“Oh most definitely. The kinkiest, Milkie.” He winked at you before calling a waiter and ordering a few more drinks.

The joke lasted throughout the evening, whether it be some random person telling you, you were cute together or a douchebag trying to flirt with you; you were his girlfriend tonight. It left a weird impression on you. It felt nice. You’d even say, it felt right. It was just this natural feeling that the way he held you, the way he touched you made you feel like he was yours.

The party started fading away when you asked him to leave. You started feeling tired and sore and a little bit too tipsy. He agreed and you left the party. You walked in the dark for a moment, arm in arm, laughing. You were reminiscing about the first time you met, when you laughed so hard that milk went out of your nose. And that time he fell in the kitchen while trying to show you his best dance move. Just sharing memories of the past years you spent together.

You were starting to lose sight of the busy street in which the party was going on. It was darker and darker and you two were alone in a street you didn’t know.

“I think we’re lost.” You laughed as you tottered. And Harry snickered too, almost stumbling over you.

“I guess we are…”

You shook your head at him in a giggle and grabbed his arm under yours. You kept walking in the dark, talking and laughing. You walked for what seemed to be hours. He finally decided on calling a Uber, seeing you carrying your shoes in your hands and begging him to carry you on his back.

“The Uber will be here in ten.”

You sighed relieved and he picked you up to put you on his back. You walked to the side of the road where Harry told the driver to meet him. The Uber didn’t take long to arrive and both of you jumped inside of the car.

“Get the car from the parking tomorrow.”

Harry’s voice resonated in the car. He was talking to his phone, putting a reminder for him to get his car tomorrow as he was too inebriated now to drive. You laughed at his over-organized ass and let your head fall on his shoulder. After a quite long and silent car ride, the Uber dropped you both in front of your residence.

You opened the door and walked the stairs, holding on each other for some balance, laughing softly and shushing each other when one of you would make too much noise. You missed the last step again, making Harry fall with you. Hopefully nothing too bad but you two had a laughter in the stairs. Both of you sitting on your asses in weird positions, screeching softly, trying not to wake up the neighbors.

You finally got inside of the apartment and closed the door behind you. Harry let his body fall on the couch and grabbed your hand to pull you close to him; making you fall by his side. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his head in your hair.

“I had fun tonight.” He mumbled as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“Me too.” You beamed at him.

The moonlight was shining through the windows and the shadows of your furniture was dancing on the ground.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Bambi.” You looked up at Harry with a soft smile on your face.

“Always, Milkie.” He booped your nose tenderly and his eyes shifted to the ceiling.

“I’m such a mess, you know. I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt like you needed to let him know how good of a friend he was. But it seemed like it was gonna be one of your rambling about how being steady was hard for you.

“You’re a bit of a mess.” He giggled before turning his face over you. “But you’re truly one of a kind, Y/N.”

You chortled a little bit before letting your head fall down on his shoulder. You strangely remembered now that you’ve been stood up earlier. You felt a pinch in your heart. You truly hoped something good would come out from this date.

“I guess you’re the only one to see it, Bambi.” You giggled but it wasn’t genuine, it was a hurting laugh.

Harry looked at you in the eyes. “He’s a jerk.”

You looked over at him. “Maybe it’s something about me…”

He grabbed your chin firmly but with a gentle touch. “Listen, you have to be bloody dumb to stand someone like you up.” His gaze intensified, you could see his eyes get darker. “It’s nothing about you. If there’s one thing about you is that you’re bloody incredible.”

You felt your heart beat faster and your eyes were glistening. You reached your hands to his face and cupped his face tenderly.

“You are the most incredible.” You started tearing up; the alcohol, the fucked up date and Harry’s tenderness didn’t seem to be a good mix. It just made you emotional. “And I hope you’re right about me; otherwise I clearly don’t deserve a friend like you.”

He smiled and kissed your fingertips. He brought his face closer to yours and whispered, “Dance with me.”

You looked confused and tried wiping away the little tear at the corner of your eye.

“Dance with me.” He repeated himself, his gaze getting more bright.

“There’s no music, Harry.”

He larked about your comment. “I know. Do you remember that time I was upset about something about the album and you said you can always dance your worries away?”

You nodded, remembering the time he mentioned.

“And you made me dance to that Britney song so that I’d stop worrying?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, a smile glued on your lips. He got up and reached out his hand.

“I’m doing the same for you. Dance with me.”

You shook your head in a laugh and grabbed his hand. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around you. Your face was buried in his chest and his cheek was resting on the top of your head. You swayed in the middle of the apartment, a little less empty than the last time, no music on, the moonlight shining on you, your shadows dancing on the floor. The only sounds filling the space being your breaths, and sometimes a giggle as one of you would make a weird move.

You were glued to him, bathing in his embrace, feeding on his warmth. His cologne filling your lungs, his arms tightening around you, the softness of his silk shirt brushing against your cheek. He felt just like home. You loved him so much. He was your best friend. Sometimes you’d wish he’d stay there forever.

You looked up at him, catching his gaze upon you.

“Why are you so good to me?” Your voice was soft and when the whisper reached his ears, he smiled tenderly.

“You’re my best friend, Milkie.”

Instead of warming your heart the way it should have, his answer hurt. It was like a sting of reality. Like you were slapped back into the realm of existence where you were only his friend. And it hurt. You wished it didn’t. But it did. What even did that mean?

He was your friend. Your best friend. It was only the truth. You should not feel this way about his words. Maybe it was the alcohol… Or perhaps, you needed more than a best friend right now.

When your eyes met his, his tender smile faded away. He looked worried.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

You sniffed before bringing your hands to your face to cover it. You didn’t realized that a few tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Yes, everything’s okay.” You cleaned your face with the back of your hand and got out of his embrace. You offered him a big smile.

“See... That’s the reason, I shouldn’t be drinking, Bambi.”

A nervous laugh fell from your lips as you watched Harry’s worry turn into confusion. He saw you way more drunk than that and still he never saw you cry because of it.

“I’m just emotional, tonight, Bambi. It’s okay, I swear.”

He stepped closer to you and cupped your face with his hands. “Sure?”

You nodded and he kissed your forehead. “Let’s put you to bed, then. You need some rest, Milkie.”

You definitely needed some rest because tonight felt like a revelation to you, and you truly hated it. If it wasn’t for the dance, you wouldn’t be asking yourself why being Harry’s friend wasn’t enough.

[sappphfic-blog]

gal pals - lucy boynton x reader

a/n: it’s here!!!!! my first fic i’ve written since i was like 14, and i think this might also be the first x reader fic i’ve written ever. i kinda wanted to kick things off with some nice casual dating stuff to get ease us all into this - if john mulaney has taught me anything, it’s not to go too big too soon. there’s also a huge chance that this is completely ooc (can real people be ooc?) because i’m still getting back into the swing of writing about real people rather than my own characters. thanks again to @rogersben for being the only reason this fic and blog exists, i really hope you all enjoy it!!

summary/warnings: vv casual relationship stuff, coming out, i mention scissoring once or twice as a joke.

word count: 1.4k (???? how did i manage that)

You would think that after eight months of dating, people would start to catch on to the fact that you were in a relationship. You couldn’t lie, you didn’t hate that there was hardly any speculation about the two of you – you weren’t exactly famous enough for people to care about your sexuality, and Lucy had never felt the need to address her own publicly. It did mean, however, that when you both decided to be a little more open about your relationship, nobody took the fucking hint.

Your first move was to try holding hands in public – sounds easy enough, but your hearts were pounding in your chests the entire time. It’s not like the two of you had never held hands before, but it’s what it symbolised that kept them thumping. This was it for you two. No going back.

The next morning, you saw the photos of your outing making the rounds on social media: Actress Lucy Boynton spotted out shopping with best friend. You rolled your eyes as you turned your phone around to show her the Instagram caption.

“Hey, looks like I’ve been upgraded from friend to best friend,” you joked as she groaned.

“Are they idiots? Like, are they actually idiots?” she replied from across the dining table. You laughed as you turned the screen back to yourself and continued scrolling.

“Oh, you’re joking. This one calls us gal pals. They actually called us gal pals!”

“You’re not serious?”

“Look for yourself!” You handed her your phone and turned your attention back to your cereal as she scrolled, scoffing at the captions.

“Bloody hell…”

--

You hadn’t exactly planned it, but when you saw the flash of cameras as you leaned over to plant a kiss on Lucy’s cheek, you thought you might have actually done it this time. Much to your dismay, it had about as much of an effect as an ice cube in the ocean.

“A friendly kiss?” If Lucy had rolled her eyes any harder, you were sure they would’ve fallen right out of her head.

“What’s that, babe?”

She read the caption aloud for you: Lucy Boynton and close friend Y/N share a friendly kiss while out in London.

“Close friend?” You raise your eyebrows in mock offence. “That’s a demotion from best friend, isn’t it? When did this happen, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s unbelievable,” she flopped down on the sofa beside you, unwilling to partake in your joke like she normally would. “I mean, what’s it going to take? Do I have to go down to Oxford Street and scissor you in front of the MacDonald’s for people to catch on?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be totally against it,” you joked. She slapped your arm playfully, but the tone quickly changed between the two of you. You sat in silence for a few moments, before you finally plucked up the courage to speak.

“I think we just need to outright say it, you know?” your hand reached out for hers, rubbing your thumb gently over her knuckles. “I don’t think dropping hints and hoping for the best is going to be enough.”

Lucy sighed. You knew it’s not what she wanted to hear, but she also knew you were right. You hated being right sometimes.

“I know, I know,” she sighed again. “But people are… mean.”

She leaned into you, and you moved your hands from hers to pull her closer to you. You ran your fingers through her hair as she spoke, her fingers drawing small, delicate patterns on your thighs.

“It’s so scary, you know?” she continued. “There’s no coming back from this. When it’s out there, it’s out there.”

“I know, baby, but if you want people to know, I think this might be our only option. Not to sound dramatic, but I think even if we did resort to your MacDonald’s scissoring plant, people would still find a way to call us besties.”

She let out a small laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re not being dramatic at all. People are idiots.”

You smiled, continuing to run your fingers through her hair as you pressed your lips gently to the top of her head.

“You don’t have to do it just yet, love,” you muttered. “But until you do, I don’t think I’ll be getting upgraded from best friend any time soon.”

--

A few months passed before you finally did it – it was your one-year anniversary, to be exact. While you had expected the week leading up to the big day to be spent reminiscing about your first coffee date 365 days previously, they had instead been spent the days in a state of silent worry. Lucy had written and rewritten so many tweets, texts and Instagram captions that it was a wonder her thumbs still worked by the time the day came.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you stood in the kitchen, a glass of buck’s fizz in each hand as Lucy whisked a bowl of pancake batter with all her might. She paused, almost in defeat, wiping one hand on her forehead and reaching out for her drink with the other.

“You don’t have to do anything, Luce. I told you, I’m happy to wait as long as you need until you’re ready to tell people.” You said as she took a sip from her champagne flute, before handing it back to you and returning her attention to the bowl in front of her.

“But I want to!” She exclaimed. “I’ve gone a whole year keeping this a secret, and that’s just us! I can’t…” she stopped her work on the batter and turned to you, tears threatening to spill with every word that comes from her mouth. “I can’t keep hiding this from people. It’s such a big part of who I am. You’re such a big part of who I am. I just don’t know how to do it.”

You put the drinks down on the countertop and pulled her into a hug. She immediately melted into you, wrapping her arms around you in response and sighs as she buried her head in the crook of your neck. The two of you stayed like that for some time, swaying slightly in the middle of your kitchen. You pulled apart slightly, so you can look at her properly as you spoke, but your hands stayed wrapped loosely around her waist, her own arms wrapped around your neck.

“I’d say just go for it. Just type out the first thing that comes to your head and post it.”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow at you. “Balls to the wall?”

“Balls to the wall.”

--

That’s exactly what happened. You sat at the dining table once more, a plate of pancakes and a glass of prosecco in front of you both. (Lucy had told you to buy more orange juice when you had gone to the shops on the previous Saturday, but by the time you had seen her text reminding you, you were already on your way home and there was no way you were turning around and risking all that ice cream melting.) She spent a few minutes trying to decide on a photograph to post along with it – “You look so good in this one, Y/N!” “I do not! You’re not posting that one!”– but eventually settled on a candid that your friend had taken of you both. It was the first time you had ever introduced Lucy to somebody as your girlfriend, and seeing the picture still gave you butterflies remembering how happy you had been to introduce her with such a title. She was laughing at something you had said, a big, wide laugh that only you knew how to coax out of her, and you had the cheesiest grin on your face as you looked at her like she owned the moon and stars. That looking still hadn’t gone away, and neither had the feeling – she was your everything.

Her thumbs typed rapidly before hovering over the screen for a few seconds. You couldn’t see from where you were seated opposite her, but you knew it was resting tentatively over the post button. After a few moments of deliberation, she hit it, putting her phone face down on the table and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Done?” you raised an eyebrow at her, trying to hide the excited grin that had started creeping its way onto your face.

“Done.”

[monicaexol]

EXO Reactions

~ Live it Out ~

Minseok (Xiumin)

When Minseok had announced about your relationship with him last week, he had mentally prepared himself for the worst. Expecting nothing less than a series of possible insults and questions, he starts his V Live with a some what forced smile and a pounding heart.

Though mid sentence, his eyes flicker down to the comments, and sure enough, each one had your name imprinted on it. Minseok lets out the breath he unconsciously held, his face warm with nerves. Honestly, he couldn’t build the guts to actually read the comments, he had no intention of talking about your relationship... but seeing your name repetitively worried him. Did they hate you?

Minseok sucks in a breath, and allows himself to read one comment, “Y/N unnie is so pretty wahhh.” A smile curls at his lips, his thudding heart calms at the sound of your name. “Congratulations Minseok and Y/N.” He squirms in his seat, a blush replacing his previously fear struck features, perhaps, he shouldn’t need to worry about you. It’s evident that you are well loved by the fans.

Junmyeon (Suho)

“And as I was saying, everyone, the members dearly miss performing for you all too. We promise to be back soon, our comeback is just around the corner!” While ending his sentence, Junmyeon glances down to the comments section. However, instead of being hit with a flood of questions asking for spoilers, he was alternately catching your name in each little white box.

His eyebrows draw together in slight confusion, ‘do they care about my girlfriend more than our comeback?’ Awkwardly, he clears his throat and decides to read a random comment out, “Y/N and Suho would make beautiful babies.” Junmyeon rubs the back of his neck where a blush was creeping up, a small laugh escapes his lips.

He attempts to quickly change subjects by talking about the comeback, “Hey, would you guys like a spoiler?”, though the fans seem not to budge from using your name to draw his attention. Junmyeon lets his lips curl, he wouldn’t have cared if the fans disapproved of you. However it did warm his heart to know they have whole heartedly accepted you.

Yixing (Lay)

It was a lazy Wednesday night when Yixing decided to do a Live stream. A smile brushes onto his face automatically whenever he interacts with his fans, there was always something so magical to know that he could speak his heart to approximately thousands of ears who sat patiently just listening to him.

“Guys lets have a rapid question round okay? I’ll close my eyes and read the first comment I see when I open them? Cool? Okay, let’s do it.” Yixing lets his eyes fall shut, letting himself fall into a few seconds worth of trace where he could practically hear the furious types of thousands of hands. He lets his eyes open, and does as he said he would, “How is Y/N?”

He notices a trend, nearly every comment was only about you. “Everyone, I see you are all curious about my girlfriend more than me...” Yixing jokingly pouts, as if he’s jealous for attention, though he couldn’t quite ignore the warm smile that resurfaced his features each time someone complimented you, “She’s perfect.”

Baekhyun

Baekhyun loved going on V Live, it was one of the few ways he could gain real interactions with his international fans. A smile tugs at his lips when he sees the viewer count rising, it reassured him to know that his fans were willing enough to pause their day to watch this goofy singer talk to them about his. Usually, he would be asked to do aigyo or sing a melody.

However it didn’t take him by much surprise to see your name appear so frequently in the comments section, “Everyone, you keep asking about Y/N. Don’t you want to see my cuteness?” Baekhyun tries to lure his fans by jutting out his bottom lip and quivering it to give that extra pouty effect. Normally it would take the comments section by a storm, but today, the fans were only intrigued to know more about you, “Alright, fine. I’ll tell you what she’s doing.”

Playfully he rolls his eyes and turns over on the bed, “She’s working, even though she should be here in my arms.” For a brief moment, he could feel your warm hand cup his cheek. But that warm feeling suddenly felt like a slap when he realised what he actually just said... “Guys, please pretend you didn’t hear that, or I won’t hear the end of it from both my manager and girlfriend!”

Jongdae (Chen)

Jongdae isn’t the type to seek attention, nor is he the type to ask for approval. When he announced about your relationship with him to his fans, he was looking for neither of those things. All he wanted, was a safe relationship with you. Though before Jongdae began his V Live, a part of him felt slightly intimidated, would they like you?

He honestly didn’t bother about anyone’s opinions about you, but it irked him to know that some people could potentially hurt you with their words, or perhaps even actions if it escalated. Jongdae was used to anti’s hate comments, his fans usually defended him. But how would he react if even his fans disliked you?

His stomach swirled with a bundle of nerves, all kicking in at once when he pressed the ‘Live’ button. Though before Jongdae could even let a word slip his tongue, the comments wildly began to load. He allowed a nervous smile on his lips, but his nervousness turned into fluttering butterflies when he actually read what the fans had been saying, “We love Y/N, she’s so pretty!”

Chanyeol

“EXO-L’s, what shall we do today? Hmm? Should we react to some videos?” Chanyeol always treated his V Lives as if he was just face timing one of the guys, he wanted to feel closer to his fans and what better way than to just be himself? He grabs a drink and twists it open, the fizz slightly trickles onto his hand and he laugh outrageously as if it was the most hilarious thing ever.

Thinking he would find a bunch of laughing emojis, he glances down to the comments section, but was pleasantly surprised to find your name printed with every little bubble. “You’re all wondering about Y/N, right?” A minute later he checks the comments to find a series of questions about you, his eyesbrows slightly raising at just how much the wanted to know.

“Well I’m not gonna tell you!” Opting to be childish, Chanyeol sticks out his tongue and playfully pulls some faces at the screen. After cackling about his actions, he lets a serene smile calm his features and lets out a long dreamy sigh, “Truthfully, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me...”

Kyungsoo (D.O)

It’s not that Kyungsoo is shy when it comes to interacting with his fans, not at all, he just wants to make sure that everyone has a nice time. This is one of the reasons that Kyungsoo and V Live are rarely ever mentioned in the same sentence. However, he decided to take his fans by surprise by starting a live stream of him cooking a recipe that his mother texted him earlier that morning.

“I know you all might be a little surprised at this unannounced V Live, but I thought I’d share a recipe my mum gave me with you, it’s quite healthy and delicious.” Kyungsoo licks his lips, albeit he is a strong performer, the man does become slightly nervous when it comes to just being himself. Before he begins, he checks the comments section and finds himself grinning at the mentionings of your name.

Somehow, Kyungsoo wasn’t worried upon seeing your name so frequently, he was positive the fans had already taken a liking to you. “Will Y/N be cooking too?” Kyungsoo pushes the frame of his glaces back with his index finger, a small blush covers his ears and he unintentionally lets out a chuckle, “Sadly, no. She’s at work right now. But I will surprise her with this meal. Good idea, right?”

Jongin (Kai)

“Guys, you have got to read this. It’s the best!” Jongin waves around a book in his left hand, right hand holding his phone at an angle to capture his face and book in the camera. It was a drizzling Friday night, originally, Jongin had decided to make this V Live a ‘day out’ sort of stream. However the resentful rain had drained that idea and now he sat in his pyjamas, recommending his favourite night time stories.

He places down the book and takes a sip of his hot chocolate, “You know, Minseok Hyung taught me how to make hot chocolate. He told me to use 1/4 of coconut milk and top it with whip cream.” Jongin checks his comments to see what his fans had to say, expecting to see something relating to Minseok, though the warmth of seeing your name was hotter than his drink.

But he almost spits out his drink upon reading one of the comments. After managing not to choke, he begins laughing so loudly that his ears burnt red. Jongin makes a blow fish, trying to force his muscles to relax from laughing so much, “I shouldn’t be answering this, but yes, my girlfriend does taste sweeter than hot chocolate!”

Sehun

“Aeries, I’m pulling a prank on Chanyeol Hyung. I glued the toilet seat down, and he’s desperate to go. Hahaha, lets see what happens!” The sudden notification had taken the fandom by a storm, but the fact that Sehun was actually showing his prank was hilarious. Sehun puts his finger on his lips, signing to tell the fans to stay quiet.

“Sehun-ah! What did you do?!” Sehun bursts out laughing after hearing Chanyeol’s agitated yelling and runs to hide in a studio room, he then glances down at the comments to find many laughing emojis and even memes with Chanyeol’s face, causing him to stir even more with laughter. But after his chuckling dies down, his eyes drift to find your name floating in some comments.

Sehun finds himself unintentionally reading one out loud, “Who is more important, ViVi or Y/N?” He lets the question soak in for a moment, both were very important to him, there’s no way he could actually choose. “ViVi is like my child, and Y/N is the love of my life. I’d pick them both over myself, but I can’t pick one over the other.”

A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you guys liked this! Lately, I’ve been busy. I’ll try to post more quickly but I can’t make promises! I love you guys tho. Thank you for being patient with me ♥️