#and you and your beta are crackheads

[phantomskeep]

Happy WIP Wednesday!

This first bits are from chapter three of my slowburn Dead on Main DPxDC fic, "Putting the 'Fun' Back in 'Funeral'", and the second is from a little crackfic I'm writing because oh god I made C3 very depressing and it made me sad. The first part of PFBF is from Danny's POV and the second from Jason's.

Just an FYI none of this has been beta'ed yet, so please pardon any errors!

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While the local ghost hero was waiting for a response, he was lazily heading south from Fentonworks. Easily drifting on his back above the cloud layer currently overhanging Amity, Danny couldn’t help but rest his heavy gaze upon the millions of twinkling stars before him. It was only twenty-four hours ago that he had fought his last ghost as a semi-normal person. His entire world had shifted, changing completely. Danny now had the ultimate power of the Ghost Zone. It was a startling realization that hit him quickly and he couldn’t help but grieve his childhood. While he hadn’t really had much of one in the first place, Danny still wished things could have been different. That he was in university with his friends, studying astrophysics, trying to be an astronaut.

But no. He had to step into a portal to a different dimension and have it open up on top of him. He had to die before he even started highschool - and he couldn’t even do that correctly.

A loud groan of annoyance left cold lips, gloved hands coming up to grasp at white hair. The ghost boy flipped around to float on his belly, facing the dark clouds rumbling below him. Grasping on the tingling feeling of intangibility, Danny summoned his power to the forefront of his being before letting gravity take hold of his form. He dropped quickly towards the ground, eyes closed. It was from years of practice that he knew when to allowed such a pesky notion of gravity peel away from him, his monochrome shape hovering just above the down-trodden apartment complex he called home.

A bright flash lit the sky behind Danny’s still form, the clap of thunder chasing behind not even a second later. Bright green eyes tracked his shadow as the late-spring lightning storm passed through Amity. He hovered there, for a moment. Allowing the wild winds whip around him and such a storm’s power picked up, shaking the leaves of blossomed trees. Distantly, Danny registered that rain began drizzling from the cloudbed he was just so far above. It was with a mournful shake that Danny finally moved to enter his barren apartment.

When his boots lightly tapped his threadbare carpet floors, Danny let the rings of his transformation wash over him. Gone was the royal outfit he had still yet to inspect, and in its place was the slightly dirty clothes the young man had pulled from his floor earlier that very day. Black hair flopped to cover his eyes, no longer snow-white and being kept out of view by his powers. It was with a quiet sigh that Danny moved to push the strands back, pulling his beat-up phone out from his pocket.

With practiced movements, Danny allowed himself to fall back onto the worn couch shoved in the middle of his living room. The halfa didn’t move to turn on the lights around him - there would be no point in it, after all. He could see better than an average human. Just another of the many side-effects of half-dying.

A quick entering of his password had Danny’s cracked phone unlocked, icy blue eyes skimming the two messages of confirmation from Sam and Tucker. Quickly tapping out “jazz?” and smacking the send button allowed Danny to let the device fall onto his lap. He threw his arms back dramatically, face tipping back to eye the water damage on his ceiling critically.

He really should put in a maintenance notice.

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It was there that Jason could see the form of Dick, back turned towards Jason as the elder fiddled with something on his light-stained butcher block countertops. As much as Jason wanted to annoy his brother by sneaking up on the distracted Nightwing, exhaustion still pulled heavily on his limbs.

“Didn’t I say that any bannings in Alfred’s kitchen extended to my own?”

The question clearly startled Dick, but he didn’t show it besides turning around with a bright grin.

“That’s only for cooking, Little Wing!” The older winked at his brother, gesturing him closer with his hand. “I ordered some delivery, I got your favorite from that one Thai place.”

Jason couldn’t help the creeping excitement in his voice as he fully stepped into the kitchen space. “Moo Yai?”

“Of course.”

Clapping a hand on Dick’s shoulder, Jason easily reached up to start grabbing the dishware the two of them would need. He passed Dick whatever he grabbed with a practiced ease.

Having various Bats and Birds hide away from the rest of the family at Jason’s apartment had become something the young man had come to expect. Often, he was told it was due to the coziness of his loft or his cooking prowess. He knew it wasn’t only because of those two things. The theme of finding one of his siblings breaking into his home had only begun after a particularly bad incident at the manor which caused Dick and Tim to recruit the others into making sure Jason was okay. It was information that he was not supposed to be privy to, but after the first time Tim had passed out at Jason’s place, he managed to snoop through the younger’s phone and put two and two together.

It wasn’t something Jason was… against, per se. But it was annoying when he was having a particularly bad day with the Pit Rage and he was surrounded by people he didn’t want to hurt again.

However, despite everything, moving around another person (or persons) in his kitchen had become a routine. One he never expected, but he was grateful for it all the same.

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This next bit is from a pure DP one-shot within the realms of "crack treated seriously". I'm hoping to get it posted in a few days!

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The last couple of weeks had been a chaotic stream of pandemonium. It all started with one Vlad Masters pulling an absolute Fruit Loop move which resulted in an ancient evil being awoken from his sleep. A sleep that, according to any ghost willing to talk to Danny, Pariah Dark was forced into because he was the Biggest Crazy Ever™. Of course, Danny did what any fourteen year-old superhero would do! He fought the bad guy, locked him back up in his creepy sarcophagus in his creepy castle, and then passed the fuck out.

Worst of all, that wasn’t even the really chaotic part.

No, that had to come after Danny had woken up in his bed with Jazz fretting over him. A ghost Danny had never before met had begun haunting him whenever he went on patrols. The clock-themed ghost had started off with saying things like “You bested Pariah Dark in single combat, now it is your time to take the crown” and “Young Danny, you must come back into the Infinite Realms and take your place as the Crowned Head.”

And look, Danny wasn’t the smartest kid on the block. He didn’t have the best grades, was often oblivious, and tended to ignore things that he didn’t want to deal with.

So he just ignored the blue annoyance following him everywhere.

That is, until the dang ghost stopped time and made him listen. Clockwork, which was apparently the ghost’s name, all but dragged him into the Ghost Zone, set him in front of Pariah Dark’s spooky coffin, and made him eat part of the ghost?! Apparently a “core” is something that all ghosts have but it was still gross! Danny kept throwing up afterwards, but he couldn’t seem to upchuck the weird pearl thing he had been made to swallow like an angry cat that wouldn’t take their medicine.

And now he’s here. Sitting in Mr. Lancer’s English period, waiting for the clock to tick by and end his day.

Danny’s stomach started to feel a bit weird mid-way through the previous class (algebra one with one of the football coaches) and he was fully planning on heading to the Far Frozen once the day is done.

The Far Frozen was an area in the Ghost Zone that the ghostly blue annoyance had herded him to before forcing him to eat another person. The ghost yetis there were pretty cool and were basically ghostly doctors. One of the yetis, Frostbite, had made some awesome hot chocolate and Danny was absolutely craving it. He figured it was because his stomach was upset and he really didn’t want Jazz hovering over him.

So, therefore, a trip to the Zone for some hot chocolate with some ghost yetis.

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Hope you guys enjoyed the WIPs :) Chapter three should be posted within a couple of weeks, and I'm hoping to get the silly little fic posted before the end of March uwu

[literallyzooble]

The Amazing Digital Marching Band: Beta Designs

WHAT THE HEEEEELLLLLLL OH MY GAWD NO WAYAYAYAYAYAY

Hi hello hi!! I finally got around to designing some beta layouts for my Digital Circus AU! Please tell me what you think and reblog if you can! If I continue to expand upon this AU, I might just make its own blog for it! Just depends when and if I have time :)

Okay under the cut is me infodumping about each design so feel free to like skip allat if you don’t want to read it

Gangle: Color Guard -I wanted to still follow Gangle’s ribbon motif in her design, this is probably the most personalized outfit out of all of them. -The ribbon the makes up her body now continues down and spirals around her legs, sort of to make a “skeleton” of a dress. -I added a bit more flare to her arms, adding extra ribbons that don’t act as limbs, and more as sleeves or decoration. -The bow on her head kind of just ties it all together, again fitting with the ribbon motif that I was going for. -In terms of the first point, the reason why I say “personalized” is that I’m still not sure what I’m going for in terms of outfits. I don’t know if I want them all to be uniform and the same, like a true marching band (in this case, I would have to change Gangle’s outfit), or if I’d like each uniform to have more of a personal style to it (in this case I would keep Gangle’s outfit, and change uniforms to echo the original character’s designs (i.e. changing Ragatha’s uniform to be a bit more dress like).

Pomni: Drum Major -I’m still deciding on the hat, I wanted to try to make a shako with a jester hat motif, but I’ll have to work it out over time. -Her uniform borrows from modern marching uniforms (Stanbury for inspiration) and circus jester clothes (hence the fringe around the waist). -Gloves are the same size as her original gloves, except they’re white. -Pants are classic bibber pants, shoes are classic marching shoes (both black).

Zooble: Snare (Battery) -One of their antennae is a snare stick. I came up with this gimmick that Zooble basically pulls out sticks from everywhere: their head, their arm, their leg, they always have a spare. -I decided to give Zooble two wings for stability, since you don’t want to be tilted to one side while marching, especially for battery. -Their right (looking at the drawing it’s their left) arm has this mechanism where you can easily insert sticks, it’s sort of like one of those things that can extend your pencil when it’s short? It uses the same logic. -I kinda went the craziest on Zooble’s design because I am so normal about them (I am not) -I CHOSE ZOOBLE AS A SNARE BEFORE GOOSE SAID THAT THEY PLAY DRUMS MY BRAIN IS MASSIVE

Ragatha: Flute -Adding on from what I yapped about in Gangle’s tidbit, I had this idea to make the uniforms a bit more personalized to each character, for example giving Ragatha’s uniform a bit more of a “dress” look to math her original design. Of course, this conflicted with my knowledge of marching bands and why everyone has such similar uniforms, so to go with the dress-like design or not, as well as personalizing each of the character’s designs more, is still up in the air. -Woodwinds have gloves that have the fingertips cut off, so their fingers can be more technical. Ragatha’s gloves are black. -The woodwind and brass uniforms are mostly the same, the shakos (color wise) are the only things that differentiate the two. -Classic marching bibber and shoes. -Yes I am self projecting by making Ragatha a flute and BEFORE YOU GO SAYING “erm achchually Ragatha plays Cello-“ FIRSTLY there are no cellos in marching band and SECONDLY within this AU she plays flute for marching season and play cello in the orchestra for concert season :)

Jax: Trumpet -His ears go inside his shako, I’m just too lazy to edit/erase them. -Brass have gloves that have no alterations made to them. Jax’s gloves are also black. -Classic marching bibber and shoes. -Jax gives me “typical crackhead trumpet” energy and I don’t know why. Anyways there’s my reason for putting him on trumpet.

Kinger: Bass Drum And Gong (Pit/Auxiliary) -I want Kinger in this AU to give “How TF Did I Get Dragged Into This” Vibes -Pit percussion members don’t wear shakos, which is sort of cool so we can still recognize the chess piece form. -Since Kinger doesn’t have any legs, his “marching bibber” is more of just a black skirt that surrounds his body. -Pit percussion members don’t wear gloves. Which is a problem. Because Kinger is always wearing gloves. And I do not want to draw whatever is underneath those gloves. Scawy.

Stay tuned for more!! Maybe!! In the near future??? ALSO ALL SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! YOU MAY SHIP WHOEVER WITH WHOMEVER!!! AS LONG AS YOU’RE NOT A CREEP!!! YAHOO!!!

[dragynkeep]

Miles fucking Luna just admitted on Cameo bumbleby was made canon soley because of its popularity with shippers and "would have toned down the Black Sun moments" had they known beforehand! Ais, please bully this beta looking crackhead on Twitter for me because I don't have an account and I refuse to get one

i watched the video & 1. why does he look like that & 2. why is he so goddamn close to the camera. back tf up on this cameo you've owed someone for ages, maybe try & be a little professional & not look like you're recording this on your smoke break.

it's also interesting he doesn't mention why he had to turn cameo off for a bit when some of the last cameos he had included misusing the word genocide over a fictional character & then pimping out his own self insert as "bisexual" & having to walk it back when people, desperate for queer mlm representation in this homophobic ass show, were wondering if it was actually going to be canon when. nah. he just said it for money :))

"you asked if there was any behind the scenes info for bumblby, which is hard cause i don't think there's much to talk about" for a ship you've apparently had in the works for 10 years? since the beginning? kept so under wraps? whatever, miles.

ohhh my god miles bringing up that blake is the bisexual queen & "everyone wants to date her" as if he wasn't disgustingly biphobic & joked about getting off to women kissing in front of him as well as asking if bisexual women were "truly bisexual" or just "sipped from the fur cup" with his best friend who sexually harasses women.

it's also weird that this essentially confirms the reason she has the "blake harem" is because she's bisexual, as well as being "cute & pretty." which. fall into a hole, luna, you ugly fuck.

also positing sun & blake on their faunus relationship as the much smaller one while being deluded there was anything to yang & blake over the "much longer relationship" besides a shit ton of shared trauma & no in depth discussions, no romantic connection, nothing until the last two volumes where they were like "welp, better get this yuri train on the road" & invented moments for them out of nowhere that were out of character & did a disservice to their actual characters.

"they're finally in a place where they can admit their feelings to one another" but why? nothing has changed between them, they've actively ignored or pushed aside the so called "baggage & drama" that miles described them going through & in this volume they were essentially made by the environment to confess their feelings, not through any genuine connection. there was no reason that this confession couldn't have happened in all the life threatening situations last volume & i would've been spared yang fetishizing blake's racial features.

overall: this cameo just confirms the worst of what we knew about crwby in regards to sun / blake / yang. whatever was popular was going to be canon, they didn't care or understand their characters motivations & there is so much biphobia in their treatment of their main bisexual character in regards to both her love life & the confirmation of it only coming in a wlw relationship, downplaying all sides of her attraction.

they could've had blake be confirmed bisexual from day one. they could've done more with blake & yang in the early volumes instead of borderline pimping her out to the cast to have a harem because of said bisexuality & her "cuteness" when in what way does that fit the reserved & cautious blake we know?

this is five minutes of my time i'll never get back & i wish miles a very happy get [redacted] because your shitty voice sounds like razor blades in my ear, you unwashed biphobic fuck.

[zozo-01]

Where I'm from, Rehna means to stay.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all y'all glorious bastards and bitches!!! Is this a Christmas fic? No, it ain't even a winter themed fic. Butttt, it's a fic I promise to write for @sri-rachaa that I finallyyy decided to finish! So, Rae Rae!!! Here's your surprise (even for me) Christmas fic, featuring your favourite headcanon (that's basically canon), your Lovely OC and my Darlin' OC.

[Thank you soooo much to @daveyistheloml for being my beta reader, and tagging @gingerbreadmonsters and @haradasaya to prove that yes, this is fluff. ;-; I am capable of fluff. ;-;]

CW: Fem! Darlin' and Lovely, both characters have names and use she/her pronous, canon divergent (this takes place in Rae's 'Southern Sibling' AU), Sam is still a freelancer, mentions of Quinn and what he did to Darlin' + Momma Collins talking about asshole Papa Collins, my Darlin' OC is a Toronto girl and for once, I am not ashamed of that

--

The lack of… anything in the countryside always left her unnerved.

Where are the buildings? The people? The random squirrel trying to cross the street? All there was for the eye to see was farmland, farmland and the occasional horse.

Maybe part of the reason she was uncomfortable was that there wasn’t anything to distract her from her thoughts. Back home in Toronto (despite living in Dahlia for a decade, she still thinks of Toronto as home), there were a million things to pay attention to. 

The crowded streets and equally crowded sidewalks. The cars honking at each other. The trains running beneath her feet. The occasional crackhead that was spewing some wisdom to the people walking by. The guy hiding in the alleyway with something… whether it was a knife or gun, she wasn’t gonna stick around and watch.

Ah, the good old days.

The country didn’t have any of that. Unlike the dangerous city, there was nothing of note to focus on. And the fact she couldn’t focus on anything made her brain go haywire.

In her mind, there was nothing in this world that could make her give up her city ways and live in the middle of nowhere.

“You doing alright, darlin’?”

Or maybe there was someone who could.

Zohniyya looked over to the freelancer driving. She shook her head and said, “nah, I’m good, handsome.” Her gaze returned to the vast nothingness outside. She strained her ears to find signs of life, but all she could hear was the heartbeat of the man next to her.

That ain’t a bad thing to listen to.

Just for tonight, she’ll keep quiet about how much silence bothered her. Sam finds the cornfields and the flat lands comforting, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves was the sound of home.

But that wasn’t the only reason she was unnerved. She was meeting Sam’s mother for the first time. She is going to have to introduce herself, make a good impression and not fuck up everything like she usually does. It wasn’t like parents didn’t like her, aunties of her childhood adored the girl she was. Always perfectly in control of everything, whether it be of the children or of herself.

But that had been when she was the obedient, depleted girl. Now she was a little wiser, a little colder and knew that the opinions of others didn’t define who she was. 

…But holy fucking shit, Zohniyya will drown in her own tears if Sam’s mother showed any kind of disapproval towards her.

She reached into her bag and fiddled with her concealer. Occasionally, she’d look up into her mirror and eye the scars on her face and neck with disgust. The ones he left behind. 

‘Maybe I should hide the scars… maybe just the bites…?’

“Put the damn makeup away, Zohniyya.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying Sam, the bite marks? I don’t want your momma to think I’m some sorta chew toy.” That comment caused her a sharp pinch on her thigh.

“You’re not a chew toy, let alone that leech’s,” he snarled. It was his default tone of voice whenever her last relationship was brought up. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

She grabbed one of his hands, and placed a gentle kiss on it. It wasn’t much, but the simple kiss was enough to relax him, slightly. “I know, meri Chandh Raath. It’s just,” her voice trailed off and she turned back to look out the window. “I want your mom to like me, and the scars… ya know.” 

Sam took the concealer from Zohniyya’s hand and chucked it to the back seat, ignoring the complaint from the wolf to be careful with the bottle. “Darlin’, my momma’s gonna love ya. You’re her perfect woman, and she’d kill me if I broke your heart.”

“Ok, but like, wouldn’t you be concerned if our kid brought home a partner with a shit tonna scars?”

“I’d be concerned about our child’s partner rather than judge them.”

Neither of them noticed that they’d said ‘our’ and not ‘your’.

She let out a soft laugh. “You’re such a stubborn piece of shit. Let me loathe in peace you southern bastard.”

“No can do, my darlin’ princess. I made a promise to make you happy, safe and loved. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing, so get that pretty head back onto earth.”

She groaned, “I am not a princess, Sam. We’ve talked about this.”

“Well sure as hell gorgeous like one, Zo.” He barked out a laugh when his darlin’ tried to hit him from her seated position. “There’s that smile of yours.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Despite the harsh words, she was smiling and blushing and feeling light and airy and giddy and she just wants to kiss him and oh God Sam is the best and-

“REHNA!!! She’d be terrified of the scars!!”

Sam scoffed. “Please, Missy likes the weirdest shit, and you are far from weird.” He pulls up to the quaint but beautiful house in the middle of farmland. He stopped them from opening her door, and quickly came to her side of the car, opening it for her.

“Thank you, gentleman.” 

He held her hand and helped her out of the car, but before she could walk to the front door, he pulled her close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I know you’re nervous, and I get that.” He rubs her back in a soothing manner. “But I promise you nothing bad is gonna happen in there, I won’t let it.” He kissed her hairline to seal the promise.

She smiled at the reassuring words and let out a deep breath. “Ok, handsome.” She pecked his lips and dragged him to the front door. Was her heart pounding so loudly that a human like Sam can hear? Were they three seconds away from shifting and running back to Dahlia? 

‘Get your head in the fucking game! You’ve fought people way worse and you were a hockey player and figure skater. You so got this.’

Sam rang the doorbell and she heard someone rushing to the door.

‘Oh I so don’t got this, ami help!!!’

Sam placed both his hands on her shoulder to ground her. He didn’t have to be Avior or Gavin to feel the anxiety roll off her. “You are the Zohniyya Qadir. Toughest wolf from the north. And the only person crazy enough to call me your boyfriend.”

“Hey! If anything, you’re the crazy one for accepting me as your girlfriend!”

She tries to ignore the wolf within her, the one screaming at her to call Sam her mate.

Before Sam could rebuttal, the door opened and a golden blur bolted out the house towards Sam’s legs. “SAMMY’S HOME!” A young girl latched onto him with a death grip and nearly knocked over the healer. 

Sam chuckled and patted the little lightning bolt on her back. “Hey there ducklin', happy to see me again?” He didn’t get a verbal response, only a sniffle and a nod. He gave a small smile and lifted her up to carry the little girl. “I know I am, ducklin'. Missed you so much and it’s good to hold you again.” 

Little Rehna rested her head on his shoulder and clung onto his neck. “I don’t want you to leave again Sammy… Please don’t leave again…” She started tearing up and Zohniyya had to steel herself to stop herself from crying. She knew the pain of losing a sibling, and she would never wish that pain on anyone.

“Rennie, I’m never gonna leave ya. Sure, I’ll be leaving you once in a while, but I’ll always come back to you and momma, I promise.” He held out his pinky, waiting for Rehna to wrap her own smaller pinky around his. She does, sealing the promise and love between the two siblings. 

‘Awww, this is kind of cute… Oh fuck, bitch, do not get baby fever now-’ 

“Now, I want you to meet someone. Darlin’, this here is my baby sister Rehna, but you’re free to call her Rennie.”

‘Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, do not fuck this up Zo! Or you can start running, whichever works.’

Rehna turned her head to see the brunette and brown eyed shifter standing to the side. She watched as Rehna went wide eyed and her mouth fell open. The worst thoughts filled her brain. That his little sister didn’t approve of her. That she was right, the scars scared her and that the concealer was necessary.

That despite everything she tries to do, she’ll never be enough for Sam and his love.

“Are you a princess? You’re so pretty!”

Oh, so that wasn’t what she expected.

Zohniyya’s shocked expression dissipated when she saw the cocky smirk on her cowboy’s face. She opened her mouth to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but his eyes gestured to the child in the room. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she swore, it wasn’t like the people around her when she was a child kept it PG.

Right, she had to make a good impression.

“Aww, I’m no princess, kid. I’m just Zohniyya.” She smiled at Rehna, hoping to appear less scary. Her scared and expressionless face tends to terrify people, and little Rehna was the last person she was trying to push away.

The young girl let out a loud and exaggerated gasp. “You’re Sam’s lady! He talks about you all the time! Is it true that you can turn into a wolf? Can you do it now? Please, please, I wanna see!” Sam barely held onto her with all the thrashing and moving she was doing in his arms.

“Alright missy, no need to blindside her like that. She can show you her wolf form if she chooses to, ok?” Despite the pout and puppy dog eyes on Rehna’s face, she nodded in understanding. He put her down onto the ground and continued. “Run along ducklin’. Why don’t you head inside and tell ma we’re here.” Rehna yelled out an “okay” and ran into the house, leaving the wolf and her freelancer outside.

Sam pulled Zohniyya in by her shoulders and rested her head on his chest. “See? Now was that so bad? I told you everything will be ok.” He kissed her forehead and smiled reassuringly. 

She let out a shaky breath and whispered, “yea, it wasn’t bad.” She did what she always did when she was overwhelmed and buried herself in his chest. The warmth in her chest brought forth by his heartbeat and scent was enough to bring her down from her spiral. “I’m still worried about your mom.”

He chuckled, “don’t you be worried about ma. She’s been waitin’ to meet you since I told her about us.” Sam gently moved Zohniyya’s head from his chest, needing to look into her eyes. It was his way of telling her that everything will be ok. He kissed her on her lips, wanting to see and adoring the smile that came soon after. “Let’s get inside before the heat knocks ya out, you winter wolf.”

She gasped in offence and punched his shoulder, resting her hand there. “I ain’t ever gonna tell you my southern adventures ever again if you keep teasin’ me about that shit.” Her hand slowly trails down the length of his arms, holding his elbow. “Shall we head inside?”

The southern freelancer pulled her close and straightened his back. “We shall head inside,” he said, and the two walked inside Sam’s childhood home.

The first thing they noticed was the plethora of photos on the wall. Some were as recent as a few months ago. Others were as old as the ranch house. She assumed that every picture was of the Collins family. Sam had mentioned that the Oklahoma ranch and land had belonged to his family for generations, it only makes sense for so many memories to be captured in this space.

It also felt like the old generations of the Collins family were judging her.

“City Scum.”

“Whore.”

“Vampire fuckthing.”

‘No no, do not let those thoughts mess with you now. You’re about to fucking rock this shit and Sam’s mom is gonna love you… Just… don’t fuck it up.’

“See, I knew I was right callin’ you princess.” His smug smile brought her back to reality, if only to want to smack the cocky grin off his face.

“Meri pyaari, meri dunya aur meri akhirah. I love you deeply. But I swear if you don’t knock this shit off, I will smack the shit out of you.” The threat didn’t have its usual heat because of her beaming smile. He didn’t need to know that he’d be the only one who can call her princess. 

The couple stepped foot into the living room, where an old woman was fussing over the throw pillows on the couch. She turned to the sound of footsteps and cried out, “dear Lord, you made it!” She launched herself at Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. “Are you ok? How was the drive in? Are ya hungry? Thirsty?” Her lips couldn’t hold back the flood of questions that poured out of her.

The only thing that stopped her borderline interrogation was Zohniyya shyly standing behind Sam. The Collins’ mother shoved her son out of her way to approach the wolf. “Oh where are my manners, my name’s Delilah, Sam’s mother. And yours darlin’?”

“My name’s Zohniyya, ma’am and it’s an honour to meet you. Sam has told me incredible things about you.” She tried to keep her city accent from dripping on her words, something she knew Sam noticed, judging by his quirked eyebrow aimed at her.

Delilah laughed and wrapped her arm around Zohniyya’s shoulders. “No need to be so formal with sugar! Call me DeDe, that’s what all my friends call me.” 

Her bright smile made the white wolf relax. “Well in that case, you can call me Zozo, it’s been my nickname for a long a- long time.” 

‘Ok, ok this is good! We’re exchanging nicknames, so that means she must somewhat like me.’

Delilah pinched the wolf’s cheeks. “Aww, aren’t you a beautiful precious thing. Sam’s told me a ton about you as well but I wanna hear it from you! Where ya from?” Delilah turned her back to the couple and went back to organizing her living room.

Before Zohniyya could open her mouth and give an answer that bends the truth of her city status, Sam shot her a look that screamed one thing. 

“Don’t you dare hide anything about yourself darlin’. All of you is wonderful and I want my mom to understand that.”

She sighed. “I was born in Toronto, but I moved to Dahlia when I was 16. It’s where I live now and I’m in law school to be a lawyer.”

“Ohohoho, my son managed to snag a city slicker like you? And a pretty one at that!” Delilah chuckled at the embarrassed expression on Sam and Zohniyya’s faces. “I hope our humble home is to your liking. I know it ain’t compared to city houses.”

“No, no, your home is wonderful! It’s cozy and I like it!” She was honest when she said that. The Collins’ family home was warm and bright, unlike the harsh grays she’s used to. Every room and crevice had proof that there was love in this house. It was a foreign concept, but not an unwelcome one. “Besides, it reminds me of my uncle's ranch. He had one and we went there all the time as kids.”

Delilah’s eyes widened as her curiosity piqued. She asked, “you have family in the south?” 

Zohniyya’s eyes sparkled at that question. “Yea! My mom’s sister and my grandparents lives in Texas and my dad’s brother lives in Louisiana! We used to go down every summer to see’em! The only shit thing was the damn heat. I swear the amount of times I passed out was fucking insane!”

Sam smiled at the sight of his mom and girlfriend conversing as if they were old friends. The more and more Zo spoke, the stronger her accent, one that he loves very much, became. It made him feel giddy to see his wolf laughing with no care in the world, a stark contrast to when he first met her. And sure, part of her laughter was from the stories his mother was spilling, but he’d become a court jester if it means his princess will smile.

Especially if it means she saves that smile for him.

Delilah smacked her thighs and got up. “Gotta get the food ready for us to eat. Sam, come with me and we can let Zo relax for a bit,” she said while walking to the kitchen. 

Zohniyya let out a quick “wait” that made the two southerners stop and look back. She shifted her weight between her legs and stuttered, “it’s just- Sam’s been driving the whole way here, the least I could do is help out with dinner?” She said the last phrase hesitantly. She was acutely aware of how seriously ‘southern hospitality’ is taken (it’s no different than ‘Canadian niceness), but truly, she wanted to give the stubborn healer this one break. 

“Darlin’, it’s ok. I can set up a table-”

“Sam, why don’t you take Rennie and unpack your truck?” He tried to argue, but his momma gave him the look, the one where you don’t dare defy her orders. 

He sighed in defeat. “I swear, y’all are two of the most stubborn women ever.” Sam kissed Zohniyya’s forehead, mumbling, “I’ll see you later.” He called out to his baby sister and left the living room.

Delilah stared at the stubborn yet determined shifter and chuckled. “You remind me of when I was younger.” ‘Is that a good thing? That better be a good thing!’ The old woman started to walk to the kitchen, beckoning the winter wolf to follow her. 

The two women started to set up the table before Delilah spoke up.

“There is… Something I wanted to ask… Only if you want to answer.”

Zohniyya quirked her eyebrow and tilted her head. “Of course, ask away.”

“The scars… what happened?”

Her heart dropped to her chest and for a moment, she wanted to shift and run as far as she could. Away from her past that kept her from moving on. Instead, she used her words to try and make things right.

“I’m so sorry, I know the scars are intimidating, but I promise that I’d never let anything like that happen to him. God, I love him so much to ever hurt him like that. I’d burned myself from the inside out than let Sam go through any kind of pain. But if you want me to never speak with him again I totally understand and I’m sorry and-”

Her panicked blabbers were cut off by warm and loving arms wrapped around her. “Darlin’- No, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re perfect for my son, and if I’m being honest, even if I tried to keep him away from you, he’d rip heaven and earth apart to see you again.” She cupped Zohniyya’s face and wiped her tears, like a mother would do for her child. “I wanted to ask because I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Zohniyya choked back a sob that was rising from her throat at the tender words that Delilah was saying. How long has it been since the shifter felt the kindness of a mother? She’d argue that she’s never received that warmth. 

Holding the shifter steady, Delilah said, “and if Sam ever lays a hand on you, you come to me and I’ll set that boy straight.”

A pained but quiet laugh came from Zohniyya. “He would never do that, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, it means I raised that boy right.” Delilah went somber. “Sam and Rennie’s father, he… he was a bad man. And I couldn’t bear thinking about if my boy was like him too.” She scoffed, “I know it’s stupid, but there’s a part of me wondering if I left earlier… then maybe it be better for them.”

“Hey.” She held Delilah by her shoulders. “If there is anyone who gets not leaving earlier it’s me.” Zohniyya took a deep breath, preparing her to talk about that asshole. “It took my last boyfriend nearly killing my best friend for me to come to my senses, and the shit I let him do to me…”

Delilah grounded Zohniyya. “We didn’t let anything happen to us, it was their fault, not ours. We didn’t want to get hurt, just to be loved.” Delilah played with Zohniyya’s dark, curly hair. “And I’m glad you got out and that you’re happy.” 

“I am, Sam’s to thank for that. I just… You must be such an incredible woman to raise a man like him and I am forever thankful for that.” Her eyes may have been watery, but her smile shone as bright as ever.

Delilah rolled her eyes at the praise. “That’s all him, I didn’t do anything.”

“Sam would call bullshit on that. He always goes on about how you’re responsible for the man he is today, I can see why.” 

It was more than the eyes and facial shape the mother and son shared. She could see where Sam got his compassion, his kindness, his stubborn nature and his capability to love from.

Despite his fears that he shared with her, Sam was nothing like his father and now she has the proof to back it up.

Delilah wiped her own tears from her eyes and sniffled, “we should set up the table before Samuel and Rehna get back.”

Zohniyya nodded and picked up where she left off, and for the first time since she got to the house, the weight on her chest was lifted and she could finally breathe again.

“Also another question, I heard that wolves had a thing… mates was it? So am I getting grandkids anytime soon?”

Zohniyya’s stuttered and embarrassed answer was all Delilah needed to let out a good laugh.

-- 

It was pitch dark and silent that night.

Way too silent than the shifter was used to. 

Once she untangled herself from Sam’s arms (she had to put a pillow in her place to make sure he didn't wake up), Zohniyya walked down to the kitchen for some water.

As she drank, she heard another set of footsteps coming up behind her, kicking her senses into overdrive. She damn near shifted at that moment, anything to make sure her man and his family is ok.

But she calmed down when her dark eyes met the watery eyes of Rennie.

She dropped to her knees and opened her arms for the little girl. Rehna ran into her arms and held onto her like Zohniyya was her lifeline. “Hey, hey, you’re alright meri jaan. Wanna tell me what happened?”

Rehna’s voice was muffled from her burying her face in Zohniyya’s chest, but she was able to make out that she said, “scary nightmare.” And that was all she needed to act.

Carefully, she tightened her arms around Rehna and stood up. She ran her hand through the young girl’s blonde hair. “Want me to take you back to bed?” She felt Rennie shake her buried head, a no. Zohniyya stopped for a bit and said, “what if I stay with you tonight?”

That made Rennie pause before nodding her head, prompting the wolf to carry her back to Rennie’s room. Once she got there, Zohniyya tried to put her down, but the blonde had a death grip on her. 

When Rennie said she wants Zohniyya to stay, she meant she wants her to hold her while she falls back asleep. She racked her brain for ideas on how to get Rennie to sleep again, until the perfect idea struck her.

“You know what my pack Alpha used to do whenever I couldn’t sleep?” She asked the question quietly, but it was enough to grab Rennie’s full attention. 

Her eyes sparkled. “What did he do?” Her voice dripped with childish curiosity, a sort of innocence that Zohniyya will die defending.

“He’d shift for us and let us cuddle his wolf form.” Her eyes went misty from remembering her old Alpha. “Gabe’s wolf form was huge, so even as teens, he’d cuddle us. Something about having wolf fur surrounding you made the nightmares… go away. Or maybe it’s a wolf thing.”

Rehna fiddled with her blanket and shyly asked, “can you give me wolf cuddles too?”

She smiled. “Pyaari, it be my honour. First I need you to close your eyes and no peeking, or else you’re gonna get it.” As with all of her threats from today, it was empty as hell.

Rehna giggled and covered eyes. 

Zohniyya got off the bed and removed her clothes. The tension left her body when she shifted, always a welcome feeling. Thankfully, Rehna’s bed was big enough to fit herself and the wolf. 

Gently, she climbed onto her bed and nudged the little girl with her snout. It was her cue to finally open her eyes and see the beautiful white wolf in front of her.

“You’re so pretty! You look like snow on a mountain top!” Rennie curled up beside the wolf and buried her face in her fur, her littles gripping the wolf for dear life. She rested her head against Zohniyya's fluffy stomach. “Thank you… for this… I’m gonna go to sleep now…” Rehna’s breathing went quiet and soft snores filled the room.

‘Sonay jao, chunni se munni. Khal, ap tumhari daraona khawab yaad nah rehna.’ 

-- 

“Samuel, go get the damn camera now!”

“I’m grabbing it ma, I can only move so fast! I ain’t a damn vamp.”

“Are you giving me attitude Samuel?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good.”

...

“You did well loving her and making her feel loved.”

“Momma, I think it’s my life's greatest achievement having the honour to call her mine.”

“Good, I want her in our lives for as long as possible. Besides, I need grandbabies Samuel!”

“Momma!!!”

[patronsaintofhomosandpain]

.·:*¨༺ What the fuck is a gentzelpretzel? ༻¨*:·.

Me! Hi! I am what the fuck a gentzelpretzel is!

My name's Izzy Gentz, I'm a writer, and this page is dedicated to my journey as such.

I figured it would be a hell of a thing to document, and hey, maybe I could help some others along the way, or you could, at the very least, get a good laugh.

🦇 Keep reading below 🦇

Well, what do you say we get to know each other a bit?

🦇 First things first! This is an official safe space for ANYone who might need one, and hate of any kind will not be tolerated.

🦇 I don't really care much about my pronouns, so you're welcome to use whatever for me at any time.

🦇 I'm based outta the PNW and bestie, between the latte infatuation and vitamin D deficiency, it shows!

🦇 I've been writing since I was thirteen, and I started my first novel at fifteen, which I am still currently working on.

🦇 It's called Holy Water Hurts: A Vampire's Guide To Vampire Hunting, and yes, it's as goth & gay as it sounds. (You can read the first few beta chapters right here)

🦇 My content is rated R. I swear like a sailor and have an affinity for gore, so viewers be advised! (but don't worry! Posts will have proper trigger warnings!)

🦇 I am made of all things gothic, witchy, and paranormal. I have way too much lore up under this purple hair dye.

🦇 I'm a comic book addict and video game-oholic.

🦇 I would sell my soul (the 309 year old one I keep in a jar on my dresser) to script a spider-person comic.

🦇 I keep a running list of good character names l, and am ready to offer them up at any given moment.

🦇 I am extremely dyslexic!! But c’est comme ça!

But, wait, Izzy! What are you going to post here?

I'm so glad you asked, friend! This blog will feature ALL the random bullshit, but here's what to expect!

🐈‍⬛️Advice, pointers, and how-tos. I'm far from an expert on anything, but if I can help, I'm always pleased to try! 🐈‍⬛️ Ask me anything! Need advice on writer's block? Want to know why my OCs are such crackheads? Dying to know what kind of pen I write with? I will answer all! Consider me your writing psychic! 🔮 🐈‍⬛️A look into what being a writer really looks like. 🐈‍⬛️ Some inspo, probably some lame-ass quotes, and possibly some prompts! 🐈‍⬛️ Lots and lots of sneak peeks into what I'm working on! 🐈‍⬛️ Way too many recs. (books, music, crystals... Others.)

And oh, so much more! I look forward to blabbering on with you some more.

Stay drop-dead gorgeous.

💜🦇💚

Psst! Let's be friends on Instagram, too!

[tsumtsumsthighs]

for free

paring - dazai × gender neutral!reader

word count - 443

warnings - sfw but still spicy i guess, dazai is annoying per usual, flirting, reader is in fact naked

a/n - this has been sitting in my drafts for a long ass time. i have a longer bsd smut on the way but in the meantime take this crumb of a drabble. these are the ideas i come up with during Tree's Crackhead Hours.

no beta just my dumbass brain, drabble below the cut

A firm knock on your door jolts you from your sleep.

"Y/n~” Dazai sings from the hallway, “it's ten in the morning why are you still in bed?" 

You yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Was it really that late already? 

"I'll be out in a sec." you mumble.

"You were supposed to be up two hours ago, I had to go talk to the client with Kunikida since you didn’t come in.” he whines. You can practically see his pouty expression in your mind. 

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, “Gimme just a minute Dazai.” 

“I'm afraid you don't get a minute any more y/n." he twists the doorknob, trying to get inside.

You don’t think much of it, it wouldn’t be the first time he breaks into your apartment. However, you abruptly sit up in bed as you remember your state of dress. 

Naked.

Curse your impractical sleeping habits.

"I, uh, really do need a minute here." you nervously call out, suddenly much more awake.

You frantically search for your clothes. Without even getting out of bed, you reach and grab a shirt off the floor and yank it on. You then reach to the foot of your bed where your pants lay discarded. In a sleepy stupor, you don't think to stand up before tugging the pants on. You simply lay back and lift your legs up when-

"Y/n. I'm gonna kick the door open if you don't get out of bed and unlock it." Dazai states. You again don’t need to look at him to know he’s standing with his hands on his hips pouting at the locked door.

"What are you, my mother?" you mutter as you curse your pants that have gotten stuck halfway up your leg. 

"One."

He's really gonna do it, huh? You think to yourself.

"Two."

I should never doubt that man’s capacity to be a nuisance.

"Three."

"W- wait!" You finally get the stupid pants up and over your ass right as the door slams open, revealing Dazai in all his smug glory. 

He looks at you, an amused glint in his eyes. You're panting and lying in bed wearing very disheveled clothes. He quirks up a brow, "What were you even doing in here?"

You chuckle, "If you'd walked in any sooner, I would've had to charge you for the view."

"Is that so? I disagree." 

You look at him quizzically, prompting him to elaborate. He delicately reaches a bandaged hand to your chin and tilts your head up to look him in the eye. He leans in, smirking.

"We both know you'd let me see it all for free."

[writerlyhabits]

Yaim'ol

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Yaim'ol [yai-MOHL]: mando’a for return or homecoming.

Final chapter of the Suum Ca’nara series | Ch. 4

Warnings: it’s really just a lot of fluff, i honestly can’t think of anything 😂

AN: It’s been so long since I’ve even touched this series and I am so sorry. I did have other plans I wanted to explore for these two most of it was just straight smut, but it got so hard to find the motivation to do what I wanted. Eventually, I just scraped everything and came up with this sweet little ending, giving them a sort of full-circle moment. This was mostly beta read by @deceiverofgodss but I’m a crackhead and just posted it as soon as I had decided it was done, so…. 🤷‍♀️😂 Thanks for sticking with me on this one, hope you guys enjoy! 💖

Gif from @ne8ula

You jolted in your seat when you heard the ramp of the Crest lower, signaling Mando’s return. He was back sooner than you’d thought. You looked at the child in his carrier beside you, fast asleep. You quietly climbed down from the cockpit into the hull to greet your bounty hunter, hearing the familiar hiss of the carbonite freezer as you descended down to the floor.

“How’d it go?” You asked, watching the Mandalorian deposit his things on the floor of the Crest. The familiar t-shaped visor rose to look over you, and you fidgeted a little as he looked you up and down, finding you in very little besides the oversized shirt he’d left for you the morning he left.

“I got him,” he shrugged, a smile evident in his voice. You rolled your eyes at him, resisting every urge to run into his arms as he continued unloading his supplies.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you mused, delighted by the chuckle that slipped past the modulator of his helmet. “How’d it go?”

“Surprisingly well. He stayed in one place, for the most part. Made it easier to find him,” he explained as he finished settling in. He strode over to you, gloved hands holding you gently at the waist as he held you close to his armored body. You placed your hands on either side of his neck under the cowl, happy to have him in your arms again.

“Did you get any rest?”

“Not without you,” he whispered, revealing that you weren’t the only one affected by his absence. It wasn’t practical, it wasn’t easy, but you’d found that after getting used to sleeping next to Mando’s large frame, it was hard to go without it.

“You haven’t been sleeping in the cockpit again, have you?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and you couldn’t help but smile as you let out a huff of exasperation.

“Well, it’s lonely in the cot… the only sleep I get is when I know I can hear you.”

“Why don’t we fix that?” You smiled bashfully under the gaze of his visor, leaning into his touch as a leather-clad hand came to brush your cheek.

“The kid is in the cockpit,” you informed him softly, debating whether or not he’d be okay left in his pod up there. Though you realized it would probably benefit you not to leave him by himself in the same room as the ship’s controls; there’s no worse way to wake up than scrambling to stop the baby from taking off. “Make yourself comfortable while I go get him?”

“I’ll be here.” You closed your eyes for a moment before parting ways, enjoying his presence after too many days away for your liking. Before you had a chance to open them, you heard the familiar hiss of his helmet and felt soft lips on your forehead, the scruff of the past few days evident on his chin. You felt the lip of his helmet touch the top of your head, having been lifted up just enough to share this moment with you before he gave you a pat to your rear to send you off.

Climbing up into the cockpit you found your little one sound asleep, clutching onto his favorite blanket with his small hands, and completely unaware that the last of your party was finally home. He’d be in for a treat in the morning, that was for sure; you could already hear his excited little noises as he reached for Mando, and it brought a smile to your face.

You reached into the cot to gently scoop the small child into your arms, wrapping him back up in his blanket as you tucked him into the crook of your neck, preparing to make the trip back down into the hull after getting the all-clear from your companion. When your bare feet hit the cool metal of the deck, Mando was already at the base waiting for you, his bare hand slotting to the small of your back as you descended the last rung of the ladder.

He lifted the kid gently from your shoulder and held him in one arm, turning to bring him to the hammock hanging above the small cot, his height giving him a better angle to assure your littlest crew member wouldn’t be woken up. You admired him as he worked quietly, the muscles of his back a welcome view as they moved under his golden skin. He released a soft chuckle as your hands began roaming the expanse of his backside, savoring the warmth as the smell of something so uniquely him filled your senses.

“He missed you,” you started softly as Mando finished settling the kid into his hammock.

“I missed him.” He turned in your arms to face you, his large hands cupping the sides of your face as yours slipped to his waist, looking back at your reflection in his helmet. “I missed you too, mesh’la.” You hummed happily in response to his words.

“You still have to tell me what that one means.” He laughed again under his helmet, shifting his hands to find yours, bringing them up around his neck. He gripped you tightly and hoisted you into his arms, one muscular arm splayed across your back to keep you clinging to him as he began crawling into the small space.

Mando settled you on top of him, your bare legs tangled with his as you rested your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat beneath you. He reached up to close the door, sealing the three of you in complete darkness, and allowing the beskar helmet to finally be placed on its shelf beside you. You felt his prominent nose brush the top of your head, a calloused hand lifting your chin to bring your face towards his.

“Beautiful…” he whispered reverently, and you took a second to enjoy the sound of his unfiltered voice before you had a chance to wonder what he was talking about. “Mesh’la is mando’a for beautiful.” You hummed a laugh as you felt his hot breath on your skin, and you were finally gifted the feeling of his lips on yours, deprived for far too long of something so sweet.

“Sweet talker,” you teased, earning a deep belly laugh from your Mandalorian as he tried to contain it, not wanting to wake the little one above him. You were quick to bring your lips back to his, smiles on both of your faces as teeth clashed and noses bumped. After a few moments, you settled into a rhythm as he kissed you languidly, breathing into you just how much he missed you, how much he cared for you.

You had been sleeping in the small compartment like this for months now, it shouldn’t have been anything so extraordinarily new. But as you settled into the tight space with your little mismatched family, you felt the space bursting with what had to be love and adoration, and you never felt more at peace as you slipped into a blissful sleep.

…

Join the Taglist!

Taglist: @deceiverofgodss @janebby @lam-ila @dmward13 @weinersolider @detectivecarisi-1 @michalkal @hypnoash

Din Djarin: @spideysimpossiblegirl @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @gracesmusings @stardust-galaxies @torchbearerkyle @mandalorian-dindjarin

[oftenderweapons]

Lavender Honey | KNJ | Part 2

A SONS OF MIDAS STORY

Pairing: Chaebol!Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Honey)

Wordcount: 22.8k

Genre: angst, smut, fluff. Childhood friends turned fwb turned enemies turned (eventually, potentially, hopefully) lovers. Also, everybody is pretty much filthy rich.

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Namjoon — man of many women, successful businessman is nothing but a rotten piece of soul living in memories and what-ifs. His life is nothing but completing his endless tasks fast enough to hide himself in a sweet scent from the past. What happens when the gentle perfume waltzes back into his present together with the only one he ever loved?

Trigger warnings: The biggest warnings for this are swearing and consuption/discussion of alcohol. Therapy is one of the main topics of this fic, and abuse of alcohol, anxiety, panicking and social anxiety are discussed. There is one very angsty mention of oral sex (female receiving). One crackhead joke about mommy kink and another crackhead joke about daddy kink (yes, only crack, nothing kinky). There are a couple cases of invasion of privacy (mostly paparazzi and the press). In terms of smut, we have some grinding and making out, masturbation (female receiving), protected sex, mild impregnation kink, borderline fetishism (perfume). Also, everyone except Taewan is a brokenhearted mess.

Acknowledgements: I'm starting from @joheunsaram who texted me at four am saying "I have an idea", resulting in me writing 42k words -- and her religiously beta-reading them. If this isn't love, then it's most definitely masochism. The other thank you's as usual go to Rid, @taegularities, for being a goddess among mortals, to Cherry, @honeyj00ns, who made me cry with her Yoombles, and Rose, @biaswreckme, who had to deal with me rewriting the same scene over and over, while dealing with the hardships of The Real World. You're a tough cookie, my darling. Last but not least, @hobiandsprite, my beloved dumb possum. Yes, YOU ARE BABY.

HERE IS PART 1 | Link to my masterlist

Enjoy 💜✨

Namjoon’s life had always been made of patterns. The graphs of a successful business plan. Excel sheets. The line at the end of a contract. Gingham. The logoed paper filling The Princess’ box, protecting the fine glass bottle. The way his boxes of cereals aligned perfectly in the cabinet.

He knew his patterns.

Getting tipsy enough not to jump from bed to bed. Getting too drunk to care. Eventually jumping from bed to bed when anger got the best of him.

If there was a border between anger and sadness, it was that one question: “Fuck or drink.”

Now he knew sleeping around was not an option anymore.

He didn’t know what had made him speak that awful stuff in public. He knew he was angry and he didn’t believe a word he said. Whenever he went back to that moment, he always found himself gripping bottles of alcohol like a baby bottle.

Sometimes he liked to hurt himself by thinking about that gentleman — what was his name even? — he indulged in thinking about the dude forgetting about what had happened. Taking you back. Making you happy. He liked thinking about him becoming The Prince in your father’s garden. He liked feeling that emotional knife twist in his guts, delve into his flesh, regret and pain and loneliness pouring out of him.

He had grown accustomed to basking in his own misery, so much that days became weeks, flowing one next to the other into an endless pool of time lost.

Sometimes he thought of how much pain he had caused you.

Sometimes he wanted to punch his own face, to melt into that lost time himself.

Sometimes he wished he could dissolve into nothingness, together with that dream of a husband, of a father you had buried with the memories of the boy he used to be.

In his sleep, it wasn’t your laugh tormenting him anymore. He could see wide, innocent eyes, the same as yours. He could hear children laughing, his vision bathed in green, tiny, white ruffled clothes billowing in the breeze. Your voice calling names he would never hear.

When those dreams visited him, there was no salvation; tears would stream down his face before he could even wake up, and once he did rouse, he would roam around his house, restless, too shocked to even drink — every sip took him farther away from that vision.

But once the mirage disappeared, he would drag himself to his cellar, order some food and use the meal as an excuse to get blurred enough to find sleep once more.

He pretended to work from home, he signed whatever Milla asked him to sign, he skimmed everything Milla asked him to read, he sent whatever Milla drafted and with a bunch of words he would order replies to be written. Even his private phone’s voicemail redirected the caller to Milla. His assistant had become an extension of him, way more operative than he could ever be. The only thing that hadn’t seen her approval was the raise he assigned her through HR.

And although the mechanism lasted for weeks, Namjoon knew it was destined to break. He just didn’t expect for his brother to be the breaking point.

The younger man came in silently, the only noise coming from the door unlocking. Namjoon was too dull to notice. He was watching a documentary about something or another — he was mostly staring at the screen, drifting in and out of consciousness as sleep came in waves, in and out… in and…

“Namjoon,” his brother called. “Hyung?”

He groaned in reply, sticking his arm out of the blanket, Taehyung following the destructive path around the living room before finding the dormant beast lounging in his brother’s sofa.

He knew something had broken in him a long time ago, and from seeing you at the party, Taehyung could reckon you had both been hurting and the situation had somehow worsened. “Oh god, I’m fucked up too, but you went completely M.I.A. I thought you were dead,” he spoke without hiding worry in his voice. He couldn’t stop observing the chaos in the room, grimacing at the stain of red wine on the cream coloured carpet. “How do you think that stain of wine will get cleaned?” That would not come clean.

Namjoon checked his wrist watch, before remembering he wasn’t wearing one, acting nonchalant — Taehyung noticed his brother’s gesture anyway. “I’m not M.I.A., I’ve been answering emails and calls from my assistant.” It was only partly a lie, no matter how small the truth was.

Taehyung eyed him suspiciously. “Have you, though? I got a call just this morning, telling me that you haven’t been working at all. How do you explain that?” He puckered his lips in disapproval.

By now extremely disturbed and upset, Namjoon checked his phone. It had been left in night mode, so he wouldn’t notice how lonely he was behind all those ‘where u at?’ and ‘I’m free this saturday. we could have some fun’, and other poorly worded, grammatically incorrect alternatives. You used to never fuck up grammar — no matter how dirty and flirtlyly you spoke. He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands before noticing a few missed calls, a bunch of emails. Once more he allowed himself to lie. “I have been working. Maybe they didn’t talk to my assistant. You know there’s a procedure about requests and interdepartmental communication.”

Looking around the room in discomfort and frustration, Tae tried to find a place to sit, until he spotted a chair and dragged it all the way where Namjoon was lying, his lower body clad in a thick, furred blanket. When he spoke, he sounded upset and slightly hurt. “I’m your brother. You can’t lie to me like this, I’m not stupid. And you look like shit, Joon.”

Namjoon scoffed and tried to find a way to outsmart him. “Don’t come in here, thinking you’re fresh like a rose, Tae. You got black circles under your eyes. And from the looks of you, you haven’t washed your hair in days either.”

“I’ve been accepting calls at least. We’ve worked so hard to get there, and I’m not risking my job or reputation just like that.” Taehyung sighed, again, before rubbing at his face. He’d never seen his brother so dishevelled. Trying to comfort him, Taehyung put his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Look, I admit that I’m probably not the right person to tell you this, because you’re right. I’ve been a mess. But don’t neglect what you’ve built.”

“It doesn’t matter, Tae.You know why I got here. How I got here.” Namjoon felt his throat close as tears started to form in his eyes. He wanted to scream.

Taehyung frowned as he saw his brother’s worry escalate into panic. “But you are here. And it’s too late to throw it all out. Namjoon, what the hell happened anyway?”

The man inhaled deeply, gathering all his strength to recount what had slashed through his life like a shooting star before abandoning him in the dark. “Honey and I had a thing. Summer after high school. Then she left without telling me. I started spiralling out of control. You know that. And then she came back. And we got back into old habits. But I was a dick, Tae. I was disgusting. I did horrible things to her. And then at the party she told me she loved me.” Namjoon clenched his jaw and tugged at his hair, wanting to hide, to run, to stop the emptiness in his gut. “And now I’ve lost it all, Tae. Everything. I could have had a home with her. I could have had a _family_ with her. Marriage, kids. The whole deal.”

Namjoon wasn’t indifferent to the way Taehyung got emotional. No matter how much of a hermit he was, he knew about his brother’s little arrangement. He also knew he’d been unhappy for the last few months, though he hadn’t followed his hyung’s wretched example.

“Maybe it’s not too late. She told you she loves you. This is something that doesn’t fade this easily, Joon. And if she’s truly in love with you, she would see your effort if you made one. I might not know Honey as well as you do, but I know her well enough to promise you that she’d take you back if you tried hard enough,” Taehyung spoke with hope in his voice, both for his older brother and himself. Hope, but also so much sorrow.

For once in his life, Namjoon felt like he could be understood. “She made clear that I’m just a memory to her.”

Taehyung shook his head and touched his brother’s shoulder in sympathy. “I can neither confirm nor deny that, but if you’re right, you have to at least get back on track for yourself.”

Namjoon nodded, exhaling and sitting up, rolling his shoulders as he tried to get rid of the soreness of being still for too long. “Yeah, my situation with Honey might be over—” he needed to be hopeful for his little brother, give him all the hope he needed to have for himself, too. For once in his life, he needed to be the actual older brother. “But you still have a girl that loves you to the end of the world and back. She’s really in love with you.”

Taehyung smirked, looking away, his jaw clenched. He looked hurt. Lost. _That must be the look I have when Mother says I’m brooding,_ Namjoon thought. “How do you know? How can you be so sure about that?” Taehyung’s voice was strained.

“Because I—” It hurt to say. “I know the way Honey looked at me. And I know how it feels to be looked at like that. Don’t throw it away. I’ve never seen her unhappy at your side, only seen full adoration, understanding and so much pride. And the way you look at her? You’re into her, head to toe. Might as well buy a ring and propose, dude.”

Letting out a deep exhale, Taehyung chuckled and Namjoon felt like joining. He feared he had forgotten how to. Taehyung stared at a spot on Namjoon’s blanket. He hoped he hadn’t stained it with food or alcohol. It looked like a great blanket. “I am, man. I am into her… and it hurts so fucking much that she’s so far away from me. I don’t even know whether she still loves me or not.”

Namjoon smiled painfully, sadly. “You said it first. That kind of feeling doesn’t disappear in a day.”

Whatever the words had meant to Taehyung, the younger let himself spill a single tear. And as he sniffled, he looked enlightened by a holy light, like grace had finally dawned over him.

“I- I think I truly love her, Joon,” his voice sounded angelic, broken like a saint praising his God through torture and agony.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be here right now,” he forced himself to smile, trying to be reassuring, comforting and reliable. His snowbear counted on him.

Taehyung nodded, his mop of hair shaking with the movement. “I guess it’s time I see her face again.” He studied Namjoon’s face. “Are you okay, though?”

The man felt his voice cave. He needed to be strong, and strength requires for one to admit being weak. He could feel the tang of blood as he tugged at the skin of his lip, with his teeth, accidentally splitting it . “I… I think I need some help. Like, fixing some stuff in my life.” He looked at the room. “I don’t know where to start.” He looked at the rain outside his window. He was glad the sky matched his mood. “I really want to be the man she wanted me to be; the man she would want by her side.” He had to clear his voice before he asked what he hadn’t asked in years. “Can I count on you?”

Taehyung smiled, his lip wobbly. “You know that I’ll always be here to guide you through whatever. You don’t even have to ask.”

Namjoon found it difficult but so good to stand up, legs unsteady before he pulled his brother in an embrace, wrapping him into a hug. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d last been held. “Sorry, I stink.” Namjoon said, sniffling.

“Don’t worry. I do, too.” Taehyung cackled and Namjoon let go, patting the younger’s back as he found himself embarrassed.

Namjoon’s eyes shone in pride at the determined look on his brother’s face. “Now go to her, knight in shining armour.” With a final pat on his back, he watched Taehyung quickly make his way across the living room and down the hall.

“Love you!” he murmured at the younger before he heard the door shut.

Staring at the wreck that his house was, he rubbed his forehead and picked up his phone. He put the sound back on. He needed to start moving.

So he called his hyung.

⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸

Yoongi looked almost ridiculous with the yellow gloves reaching his elbows, washing away the stains from the floor with a sponge while balled up on his knees. “I mean, you have a cleaning lady for this… Aish, Namjoonah, what are you doing with your life?” Yoongi shook his head. “You know what? I know exactly what you're doing. You know you can't keep tearing at your skin hoping you'll manage to get rid of her in the process.” Yoongi was stern but also warm in his scolding. “How long has it been since we last saw you alive and well, Namjoon?”

“I'm starting therapy,” he announced coldly. “Milla found a good psychologist. I'll be treated for my alcoholism and my self-destructive tendencies.” Namjoon felt proud, but also scared at admitting his issues.

Yoongi stopped scrubbing, looking up at his young friend. “I didn't… I thought it was—”

“You thought I didn't drink that much?” Namjoon cackled and rattled the black trash bag in his hand, causing a disturbing clinking to echo across the room. “This hasn't been the first time, hyung. I—” Namjoon inhaled and closed his eyes, biting his lip. “There were weekends I don't even remember. Girls I don't even remember.”

Yoongi inhaled. “What of Peach. What do you remember of her.” His tone was lapidary. An order, not a question.

“I only remember that I hoped it would hurt her. Honey, I mean. That it would get her angry enough to fly back home and slap me across the face.” Namjoon placed the bag down, sitting and rubbing his hands against his face. “I'm sorry. I knew she liked you. She always has. She told me she was with me only because she was tired of feeling unwanted.”

Yoongi bit his lower lip. “Apparently being a business genius doesn't keep you from being a dumb fucker.”

Namjoon simply nodded.

“Do you need someplace to stay? Someone to keep you in check?” Yoongi asked. “At the beginning it will feel like hell and your self control might be weak.”

Namjoon didn't know. “I actually needed you for another reason too.”

⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸

Jungkook entered the apartment shortly after Yoongi called him, the three men sitting in a now tidy and clean living room — well, except for the stain Taehyung had foreseen wouldn't come clean.

“Hyung?” Jungkook looked a little confused, tired, but so apparently calm on the surface. Namjoon could tell there was much going on under his active facade. “Are you okay?”

Namjoon smiled and hugged him, Jungkook melting against his chest. He felt like he was holding on to him, claws out. How long had it been since he'd been held like this by Namjoon? Or even better, how long had it been since Namjoon had let anyone hold him?

“I saw her at the party, hyung. She looked beautiful. Will you go back to her?”

Namjoon smiled and looked at his feet.

If there was love on Earth, Jungkook knew it was the thing that kept Namjoon and you together. He didn't know if he still believed in the tie around his pinkie anymore, but he knew that Namjoon hyung and his best friend, the Princess, would be tied together, forever.

“I've done many wrong things, Jungkook. Right now I need to cleanse myself from those. Once I manage to stop being ashamed of myself, we'll see if I still want her and if she wants me too.”

Jungkook pouted. Apparently he wasn't the only one trying to run from the thread around his finger.

Namjoon looked at Yoongi and nodded. 'Help me', he seemed to call. The older answered.

“Jungkook, Namjoon has decided to face his fears. He will be starting therapy soon. He will face his problems with alcohol and with his inner self and he could use a friend around him.” Yoongi caressed Namjoon's back before placing an arm around his shoulders.

“That's very brave of you, hyung.” Jungkook's arm crossed with that of Yoongi as he also touched Namjoon's shoulder.

He felt protected. Like he had a safety net of angels, ready to catch him whenever he started falling. “Would you like to move here? Or maybe stay in your apartment and have a roommate for a while? I'll be working at the firm and going to therapy. I won't be a nuisance and… I mean, I—” Namjoon thought about the last few years. Did he deserve the kind of effort he was asking from them? “I know I was very absent and I was overall a shitty friend. Missing Honey was… it was the start of something I didn't know I had in me.”

“Hyung. We love you.” Jungkook's eyes were lined with silver. “We were worried about you, and we never truly intervened because we were scared we would lose you.” Namjoon wrapped his arms around Jungkook as he saw the younger starting to tear up. “We were scared that you would push us away. We were good with anything you would give us.”

Namjoon patted Jungkook's head. He could feel how the younger was absolutely overwhelmed by the circumstances. He held him tighter for that.

Jungkook closed his eyes. Nothing wrong would happen there. His hyungs would never leave him, not truly. They would always watch over him from a distance, cheer for him, protect him, guide him. But now his most fragile of friends needed his help. “Come live with me, hyung.”

Namjoon nodded. “I'd love to. I promise I won't bother you. I'll behave.”

Jungkook nodded. “Let's get your stuff ready.”

From the side, Yoongi had watched the scene with an aching heart, hoping that this was just a first step to a longer, healing journey.

You hated doing this. You hated it with your entire being.

Still, after seeing the announcement on the news, there was little you could do. You and Candy debated over keeping quiet or intervening for several minutes, until you realised you couldn’t handle it any longer.

But with tired bones and a weary soul, you said goodbye to Candy and forced yourself to find some strength. The sound of you walking down the corridor was ominous, as if the very ground you were stepping on was charging you with power. You needed it.

The receptionist told you Jimin was in his office and you were lucky since he was free. They didn’t know your luck was his disgrace as they addressed you to his office, the wait on the lift excruciating before the doors opened and you resumed your angry sprint.

You didn’t bother knocking, literally intruding in Jimin’s office, startling him. “Hello, Princess.” He said, blinking.

You grit your teeth and rolled your shoulders. “Cut the bullshit and stand up, you stupid boy.”

Jimin stood immediately and discreetly closed the door, hoping your scolding didn’t reach the other rooms.

“I’ve been told you’re getting married,” you started. “And I’ll ignore how pathetic it is I had to find out through a stupid tabloid.” You made Jimin sit, spinning the chair in your direction. “It’s a shame the news was spread so much, you’ll have plenty of trouble calling this farce off.”

“Wanna know what the wifey-to-be did to me? To Namjoon?” Jimin was still paralysed. You’d never been angry at him. He didn’t even know what to do, and at the mention of his friend’s name he grew twice as panicked. “She wanted him and she was ready to hurt me to get me out of the picture. So he lied about how he felt about me, to protect me. I heard their conversation. I saw her kiss him. And I left the country because I thought I was just a tool for him. Like he would never love me and respect me the way I did.” You took a deep breath, your tone suddenly blue. “But that’s on me. I was stupid not to talk to him that same night.” Jimin didn’t know what to do. He felt like hugging you because he could feel the way your voice strained, trying to hold back the tears. But then it got icy again. “Hold tight because now comes the funny part. After I left, I didn’t feel like answering his calls — because once again, that’s what dumb, self-absorbed assholes do — and then one night I decided to pick up the call. That’s when I heard his voice. And hers too because apparently she had gotten him drunk enough to convince him to fuck her.”

Jimin fliched.

“She sent me pictures to make sure I didn’t forget. That way I would know it was real,” you hissed. “To make sure I would see the face of the man I love right between her legs, everytime I close my eyes.”

At that, Jimin felt his heart clench, realising just how bad his situation was. “I’m so sorry, Princess.”

You were heartbroken when you looked at him, your gentle, loyal friend. He would become her slave— you knew it already. She would ruin him, probably turn him into someone numb enough to survive at her side. “This is what she’ll do to you, Jimin. She’ll chew you up and spit you out, and she won’t care about you ever.”

The young man propped his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

“I’m your friend Jimin, and I know people can change, but she doesn’t sound like someone who would invest her energies in becoming a better person. I will always be your friend and I’ll always be there for you when you need me; still, do not expect me to respect her or be kind to her. She doesn’t deserve my compassion.”

Namjoon’s first appointment with Lee Eunho was difficult, words coming out in fits and starts. Anxiety during high school, the sound of anger boiling within him always a background noise to his existence. And you. Pacific, calm, patient you. The way you always grabbed him by the shoulder, holding him back from tumbling headfirst into danger. And then his coping mechanism had become investing all his energies into taking care of you. When he would stress and panic about school, he would call you, and he would meet you in your library at home, laying down on the plush carpet before the fireplace, reading comics instead of course books right next to you. And at some point, he would systematically fall asleep, your hand combing his messy hair or his fingers searching for yours.

He had managed to miss so many pieces of the puzzle, believing he saw a complete view while he was seeing but a relic of it. Eunho asked smart questions, sometimes prompting him when Namjoon didn't know how to fill the blanks, scribbling down those bits that seemed to perplex or confuse his patient. He also suggested more regular meetings in the early stages of detoxification, insisting on meeting Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi too0 as meaningful stakeholders who could help Namjoon through his complex journey.

A part of Namjoon wanted you to be there for him too, but with the following appointment he realised just how wrong it was to depend on someone so much. Slowly, he realised he had to eradicate you from parts of himself he should be capable of controlling autonomously. After two weeks of biweekly meetings, Namjoon was thankful for the path he had started — thankful for that fight on the boat, thankful for the man he was learning not to be. He also realised the road would be long, possibly endless.

Some days were difficult. Some days made him want to hide in the guestroom in Jungkook's house, dig himself a tomb of pillows and blankets and become one with the darkness. Some days eating was difficult and even the first cup of coffee of the day would make him throw up.

He found out chocolate milk helped him far better, Jungkook collecting a stash of sickeningly sweet cereals for whenever Namjoon didn't feel like eating and he had to find a way to get him fed.

What didn't change was Jungkook's proud smile every time he saw Namjoon dressed in a suit, with a relaxed look, ready to head to his office in town. Sure, he was worried about the way the clothes hung from his body, too large for the way his frame had shrunk.

After three weeks of therapy, Eunho helped Namjoon get ready to face some of his fears, easing his doubts and brainstorming about the possible reactions. He was ready for fear, but hope felt bigger. That afternoon, as he was returning from his appointment, he asked Milla to drive him to the hospital.

Jimin welcomed him at the reception, leading him upstairs, to that room Namjoon had somehow feared since he'd known the news.

“She's waiting,” he said. “Jungkook told me about your decision. We all are very proud of you.” Jimin smiled widely and opened his arms, Namjoon smiling back and hugging the smaller man. “We're waiting for you to come home to us.”

Namjoon realised his lip was wobbling as he looked at Jimin with the most thankful eyes. His gentle angel looked so tired. “What is gnawing at you?”

Jimin shook his head. “Not today.”

Namjoon watched the smile dim on his face. “I'll text you,” Namjoon promised before entering. He knocked against the door jamb, looking at the form on the bed slowly rising. “Do you have a bit of time for an old friend?”

The woman blinked and stared at Namjoon, her expression impassive. “I expected gifts.”

Namjoon fished a crossword magazine from his bag. “I believe this is a suitable form of entertainment.”

“You think you can make up for nine years of being a ghost with a few crosswords?” Candy's voice had a gleam Namjoon didn't know.

He pouted, looking down before he turned. This was not something he was ready for. “I— I think I made a mistake,” he said, walking to the door.

“Joonie?” Candy called, suddenly confused. “I was joking.”

Namjoon turned, looking like a scolded puppy, walking hesitantly to the bed. “I came here after therapy.”

Candy nodded and patted her bed, inviting him to sit. “Are you doing better?”

“Depends on the day. Most of the time, I am.” Namjoon found her hand and held it in his. “What about you, Candy? How are you doing?”

She smiled energetically but there was fatigue far below. “Healing is tiring, but I make it work.” Her chuckle helped Namjoon's spirit improve.

“Come on, you're surrounded by the people you love, you get all the attention, and everyone spoils you rotten.” Namjoon smirked. “If you haven't changed, I bet you're living your best life. If you'd known this earlier, you would have done it sooner.” He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

“I guess I'm more predictable than I'd like to admit.” Her feistiness seemed vaguely tamed. “Still it’s hard to see everyone coming in here with long faces and being incapable of doing something about it.”

“You mean the engagements?” Namjoon asked, gesturing at the comb on the bedside table, asking permission to fix his friend’s hair. Candy acquiesced with a nod, her face slightly more relaxed as he started combing, his technique far from the clumsiness she had expected.

“Yes. And the break-ups. And the divorces. The only people who bring some positive energy in here are your brother and Swan.” She smiled so brightly Namjoon could only mirror the expression.

“I’m so happy for them,” he murmured, dreamy-eyed. “Mom burst into tears when Swan told her. She also started planning the wedding, but that’s another story.”

“I’m sure she was also happy to see you so peaceful.” Candy smiled and paused, watching Namjoon put down the comb. “You know, I think I have a plan.”

He picked up a small bottle of nail polish before he smirked and shook his head. “You're not allowed to use your temporary disability to call an intervention.”

“Why the fuck not? And also, no, I’m not letting you put nail polish on me, you clumsy fucker”. Candy’s tone was practical, if slightly incredulous.

Namjoon used his strongest weapon, showing his dimple matched with a large boyish grin. “Come on, I need to practice, I'll have a niece soon.”

“What if it’s a boy?” Candy spat back, with a bit of playful bantering in her tone.

“He might want nail polish too. But I know it'll be a girl. I know it.” Namjoon paused meditatively before whispering, “if it's a boy I'll riot.”

You hadn’t expected for Taehyung’s face to hurt so much once you saw him at the door. It was a prelude to what you expected to feel like in front of his brother, the only difference being the radiant grin on his face, the beatific expression of a man who had found his everything within one person and had decided to celebrate life by creating another.

Seeing Swan hurt even more, the look on her face so happy with newfound bliss that it only reminded you of what could have been. Suddenly six appointments with your psychologist flew out of the window, regrets and guilt clawing at your throat.

Swan seemed to be extremely understanding as she placed a hand on your arm. “We’re really glad you’re here. Thank you for coming sweetheart.”

You nodded and bit your lip, forcing your spine to be straighter. You felt like all your willpower was set on your vertebrae, sticking them together, one after the other as you walked into the house. The house was devastatingly familiar, the hardwood floors so welcome underneath your sock-clad feet. “Congratulations to you guys,” you said, looking at Swan’s baby bump with a little bit of envy balled up like a snake in your stomach. “I’m very happy that you’ve refound each other.” You tried to smile your greatest smile, and still it felt dull on your face.

Swan placed an arm around your waist and led you to the small kitchenette where the two of you could speak calmly before venturing into the small crowd in the living room. “He’s already here. I thought I should tell you that,” Swan warned you calmly. “He’s very different, babe. I think you should see it with your own eyes. He’s changing. He’s working hard and I think you’d be happy to see him today, as he is now.”

You nodded. “Is he sober?”

Swan nodded back. “One hundred percent for six weeks now. He’s started therapy, you know. But I think you two should have this conversation by yourselves.”

You sucked your lips and bobbed your head. “I think so too.”

“Listen, I don’t know what happened between the two of you last summer. I’m not telling you you should give him a second chance either. Just solve it like adults. Tae and I don’t want to pick between the two of you.” Swan looked at you with the deepest worry and apologies in her eyes.

“I think I’ll talk to him if it comes natural. I’m not…” you considered how to phrase your thoughts. “I don’t want to force either of us into a confrontation we might not be ready for.”

Swan rubbed your arm before you rolled your shoulders back and entered the living room. She grabbed your sleeve and held you in her arms. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

You felt tears ignite your eyes. You inhaled and held them back. “And I of you, Swan.” And with that, both of you entered the room.

The moment you saw him, you felt the need to avert your gaze. He looked like the panther kit you had always imagined him as. He was smiling at Jungkook, holding a soft, white puppy in his arms. He seemed miles away from the ghost you’d seen ages ago. He seemed… alive. You had no other word but that.

And then you realised you couldn’t keep your eyes away from him. It felt like such a relief to see him like that. It was only a matter of time until your gaze met his, expecting him to freeze while he did the exact opposite.

He seemed to melt, a smile so big you felt your eyes watering and your feet carrying you to the veranda, away from everyone. In a corner of the room, Yoongi seemed to notice your upset state in a second, Namjoon placing a hand on his shoulder before he quickly followed your path, his heart feeling like a frame hanging slightly askew on the wall. He placed the heavy, overgrown puppy down on the ground, and the dog followed him anyway, almost getting stuck in the door as Namjoon carelessly closed it behind him. “Honey?”

You kept sobbing in a corner of the balcony, Namjoon’s face crumbling like an autumn leaf. The white pawed cloud immediately stood on his back legs and placed his front ones on your thighs, studying you, sniffing at you and jumping as he tried to catch your attention.

“Gureum, come,” Namjoon called, the puppy reluctantly trotting back to his owner. “Are you okay, Honey?”

You shook your head, still looking at the lake in the distance.

“Would you like to be by yourself?” Namjoon murmured gently.

You nodded, the man ready to leave the balcony when you spoke again. “Are you really doing better?”

He turned towards you once more, tutting at his pet once the clingy thing almost tripped him. He leaned his forearms against the railing. “On most days, yes. It wasn’t all that difficult to do better than before,” he admitted. “I feel cleaner now. I don’t know if that’s better. And some days still hit a bit too hard, but I have my friends. The right ones, this time.”

You nodded, quickly remembering the unfamiliar faces you had spotted around him during a few parties. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“Did I upset you?” he asked worriedly. “It wasn’t my intention. I knew you were coming but I thought we should both be here for Tae and Swan. They deserve it.”

You agreed. “I know you didn’t mean to. I was— It—” Glueing words together felt too complicated.

Namjoon waited patiently. If there was one thing Eunho had taught him was that there was a certain pace for sensations to become feelings to become words, eventually. And Namjoon knew the wait was worth it.

“I just… Didn’t expect the smile,” you confessed.

Namjoon smiled even bigger. “Sorry I confused you. I was just very happy to see you,” he admitted. “Last time I saw you, I thought it would be the last one for real, forever. I thought you’d leave all your friends and run again. I didn’t want to feel guilty for that again— Sorry, I worded that strangely. I feel guilty about you running the first time, and you having to leave behind your friends because I was a nasty fucker. I didn’t want you to do that again because I hurt you — again.” Namjoon looked at the lake, then at Gureum.

“It’s just that,” you needed a pause to gather your thoughts. “I don’t know how I’m feeling right now,” you admitted, shaking your head. “Ara would be so disappointed in me.”

“May I ask who’s Ara? A new friend?” Namjoon was genuinely interested. He hoped she was somebody who could help you recover from how he’d hurt you.

“My therapist.”

He nodded. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be disappointed. Healing takes time and sometimes it’s not even true healing. It’s just becoming aware of a scar and knowing how to move around it carefully. And also learning to avoid hurting yourself again. That’s what Eunho — my doctor — says.”

You looked at him, daring to face him for the first time in a month. “Swan told me you started therapy.”

Namjoon smiled, your heart clenching again as his lovely dimple appeared. “Yeah. I’m really trying. Our fight really showed me that the life I was living before wasn’t worth it.” He paused and crouched, petting Gureum, still faithfully sitting at his side, studying his owner’s every movement. “The life I’m living now is way more difficult, but also more fun. The numbness I felt before returns every now and then, but the boys are keeping me grounded and caring for Gureum is really making me rethink my priorities. It keeps me busy and it makes me feel happy.”

He was happy. That made you feel elated. Lifted. You still punished yourself daily for breaking him, nine years ago the first time, last September for the umpteenth time — God only knows how much your absence had broken him, a small chip day after day.

“When did you start seeing Ara?” he asked calmly.

“A few weeks ago. I still haven’t learnt much.”

“All progress is slow and subjective. Maybe you’re just accumulating notion after notion, conversation after conversation until you have the full picture and you can put it into action. You’re a smart girl, you just work a bit different from the rest of us,” he pondered, thinking out loud.

“You sure believe in me a lot.” You started toying with your fingers out of nerves.

“Why shouldn’t I?” He looked up at you, his expression a little dumbstruck and insulted. “You’ve been my friend for a long time. I wouldn’t have stuck by if I didn’t believe in you.”

You sniffled and bent down, stretching your hand to Gureum’s nose, letting him sniff at you before he gave permission to be petted. “So, Gureum.”

“He's a Samoyed. He’ll turn into a cloud of fluff by the time he’s an adult,” Namjoon explained. “They’re very clumsy, funny, very energetic dogs. A bit hard to train, but very loyal. A tad stubborn, but I’m used to that,” he said, looking at you.

Your smile made your cheeks feel warm. “You mean because of Yoongi.”

Namjoon snickered and pursed his lips. “Of course,” he replied sarcastically.

You let the tiny accusation slip. A part of you wanted to get to know this new Namjoon, while another part of you remained skeptical. The second part won. “We should go back inside. I’m getting cold.”

“Sure. You can keep Gureum while you’re here.” Namjoon looked at his dog’s face, squishing his cheeks, the large pup licking his owner’s face. “It’s almost like he can feel those who need him the most.”

Your smile got even bigger. “Then I’ll be glad to have a cuddle companion.”

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Namjoon and Eunho discussed in detail what had happened on the balcony, Namjoon feeling extremely anxious about slipping into old patterns of clinging to you whenever he felt unsafe or he spotted you sad and vulnerable. He wanted to make sure he didn’t throw away weeks of hard work and throw himself in your arms. At the same time, he felt like checking in on you every now and then, making sure that your meetings with Ara were progressing, that the damage he had done to you wasn’t permanent.

In the end he felt like Eunho’s solution could be a good compromise; that’s how Namjoon found his feet leading to your parents’ home in the city, the long walk reinvigorating him before he stopped right in front of the door. He took a deep breath, checking his phone to make sure he had some time before heading back to work. He rang the doorbell, your mother's voice resonating shortly after from the intercom. “Who's that?”

“It's Kim Namjoon, auntie.”

Her reply was enthusiastic, opening the gate quickly and letting him in, leaving the entry door ajar as she went to call you.

Namjoon walked down the small lane quickly, rubbing his hands together in the cold autumn afternoon. “She's getting ready,” your mother said as soon as he entered the house. “Won't you take your shoes off? May I offer you some tea? We were about to have some! Are you staying?”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “I'm heading back to work in a minute, I have a few appointments at the office, unfortunately. Thank you for your kind offer, auntie.” He stopped as he watched you appear at the foot of the staircase, smiling a confused smile as you looked at him. “Hey! What brought you here?”

He smiled back. He felt calm in a way he hadn't felt in years at the thought of you. You felt almost like any other person.

Namjoon thought it would scare him; he felt relieved instead. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute. It won't take long since I'm on schedule.”

You nodded and turned to your mom, watching her as she picked up Lola and Lars and brought the two small dogs in the other room with her.

“I wanted to ask for your phone number.” Namjoon stared at his shoes, his cheeks reddening. “I won't bother you, I just thought that I’d like to talk to you every now and then. I mean, I discussed it with Eunho, my therapist—” you nodded at the mention of the man, remembering precisely who he was “— and he said this could work as long as I keep healthy boundaries so I thought we could schedule sometime to talk, once a week, when you want— if you want, that is.” Namjoon’s shy chuckle had you blinking rapidly. This man had fucked one fourth of the female population of Seoul in the twenty to forty age range and he still managed to blush and shy away in front of you.

You reminded yourself he was trying to leave all of that behind. “I agree. On one condition.”

Namjoon paid even more attention at that point.

“I need to feel free to step away if it threatens my own good.” You stated your condition clearly, Namjoon nodding at that. “I promise I won’t push you away out of the blue. I’ll give reasons and I’ll try to explain as clearly as I can, but I need to put myself first.”

“Same here,” he agreed. “I’d like to call that condition too.”

You nodded, thankful that he too was setting his boundaries clearly. You also hoped he would be able not to cross them, nor yours.

“So, deal?” he asked, stretching his hand to yours.

You grabbed it and gave it an energetic, small shake. “Deal.”

Namjoon grinned, ready to leave, already placing his hand on the handle.

“The number, Joonie!” you reminded him, his euphoric state influencing you.

He stopped mid-step and turned to you, shrinking his neck, hiding his head between his shoulders. “Right.”

And like that, a small bridge was built across the deep, dark waters.

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Calling Namjoon on Saturday afternoon became a comfortable tradition. In a couple weeks you got used to sending small texts when you found a funny meme, interesting business news, books you knew he would like. In exchange he would return pictures of Gureum, artistic shots from the lakehouse or from one of his almost daily treks.

Ara approved of the way you were rebuilding your friendship with Namjoon, approving of how comfortable you were with telling him you were busy, or too caught up in your own life to talk to him on that day. On the other side, Namjoon and Eunho discussed how he didn’t feel the suffocating need to talk to you, how he was happy he could choose to talk to you, or not talk to you at all. Some days were just too complicated for words to come out of his mouth — or even simply form in his brain.

Those days were engulfed in silence, as if his life were a snowball, but he didn’t isolate anymore. Gureum forced him to go on walks, Jungkook would understand his disinterest in talking and would suggest watching a film together, or playing video games. They would eat junk food on the sofa and nap. He would feel too drained to text you, sending a simple “ttyl”, and you would understand, replying with a gif tagged “comfort” and moving on with your day.

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And then one day hurt more than the others.

You didn’t know why, it was truly pointless, still, you felt like nothing could fix you. Nothing could help you.

‘Can you come over? I think I’d like to see you.’

Namjoon ignored the phone vibrating on top of the table, his focus all set on the meeting, Taehyung going on and on about the potential of wine auctions and wine selling, discussing carefully, if a bit too passionately, the figures coming from the Japanese and Chinese market.

Taehyung noticed his brother’s eyes leaving the presentation to read the notification on his phone; though Namjoon did it quickly and nonchalantly, the shift in his posture was not lost on his brother.

“Uhm, I… wait, I think there’s a problem with the next slide. Let me fix it quickly,” Taehyung lied, as smoothly as possible, winking at Namjoon as he made quick work of opening the text.

‘I’m in a meeting rn. I have another one after this. I could cut my five pm short, but I won’t be free before 5.30. You at the town house?’

‘Sorry. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I want to see you too. No pressure. 5.30 town house?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Later, hon.’

As Namjoon placed down his phone, Taehyung picked up the presentation again, flawlessly, but going three times faster this time, patting his brother’s shoulder once the meeting was dismissed.

“Was that someone important?” Taehyung asked.

“Honey.”

The younger raised his eyebrows. “Are the two of you back on?”

Namjoon shook his head in disappointment. “We’re getting to know each other again, just more cautiously. More maturely.”

Taehyung mulled over his brother’s words. “Are you safe with her?”

The older looked down. “I think the important part is that I’m learning to be safe with myself.”

“That’s a good answer. I’m happy for you.” Taehyung paused. “How is she?”

“She’s doing better. She’s also doing therapy. She’s been very emotionally drained lately. And she’s working with her father now. She’s part of a creative team. It’s really helping her.”

Taehyung nodded. “Good for her… So, are you seeing her?”

“I have an appointment in ten.” Namjoon exhaled, checking his watch.

“You think I can cover that?”

“What about Swan? Isn’t she waiting on you at home?”

Taehyung grinned at the mention of his fiancée. “She doesn’t expect me back for a while still.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulder and gripped it tightly. “You told me to go to my girl once. I’m telling you to do that now.”

Namjoon didn’t even reply. He simply took long steps to the door and made his way to you.

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The moment he rang the doorbell, your mother opened almost straight away. “She’s in the library. Today it’s very bad, Namjoon.”

He nodded.

“She’s barely spoken.”

He took off his shoes quickly, thankful for dressing up casually that morning, with a comfortable turtleneck and a pair of looser slacks. He knocked at the wooden frame of the entrance to the library. “May I?”

You turned lazily since Lars was balled up on your belly, sleeping — you didn’t want to disturb him. You nodded and Namjoon entered the room, spotting the thick pile of books beside you. Those were your comfort novels, their thick spines cracked for you to open them comfortably.

The Pomeranian woke and barked at Namjoon, making you flinch and frown. The tall man approached nonetheless, kneeling on the thick carpet, stealing a pillow to lay his head on it as he laid beside you. “Wanna talk?”

You shook your head, Lars calming down once Namjoon gave him belly scratches, the small dog rolling on his back, his leg stretching out as the cuddles hit the perfect spot.

Namjoon smiled and heard the sound of other small paws approaching, Lola coming in to check that her partner was doing okay, only to insistently ask to receive those attentions Lars was so generously being given.

“Want me to read something for you?” he asked before you nodded eagerly, turning to face him fully. “Persuasion? Jane Eyre? Wuthering Heights? Call Me By Your Name? Wait. I’ll pick my favourite.”

He chose a rather thin book, by now so abused and scribbled and run down he reminded himself he should have it scanned and reprinted in a way you could have it with you forever. Half those annotations were in his own penmanship, too.

He could remember that afternoon as if it were yesterday. Summer skies. The breeze making the hem of your sundress billow. The smell of your sunscreen. And the places that book brought you. He opened it and started reading.

“Kublai Khan does not necessarily believe everything Marco Polo says when he describes the cities he visited on his expeditions, but the emperor of the Tartans does continue listening to the young Venetian with greater attention and curiosity than he shows any of other messenger or explorer of his...”

Before he had read through all the “Cities and Memory” section, you were already sleeping, your hand resting on Lola’s soft fur, right beside his own, your pinkies laced together. When your mother entered the room to announce dinner time, she noticed both of you were deeply asleep in front of the fireplace, Namjoon’s other hand resting on your hair.

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Things got a lot easier after that. You started going on walks with Namjoon and Gureum — once you even brought Lars and Lola with you, the tabloids going on and on about how it was one of your first public appearances in months, and one of Namjoon’s too, some even speculating that the two of you were dating and that your undying love for him had forced him back from the dark side; which was of course absolute bullshit, but you weren’t too bothered by that. You didn’t want to meddle with them and you preferred letting them stew in their own juice made of “the sweetheart saving the fuckboy” and all of that.

All you cared about was that hanging out with Namjoon felt relaxing, soothing, healing even. You were two people walking along similar paths, with similar destinations, and the growing certainty of Namjoon still being in your life no matter if your paths diverged gave you a sort of peace you weren’t sure could exist on this Earth.

And then one day he asked you to go visit Candy. Together.

It felt like a delicate moment between the two of you, your pinkie searching for his before entering the room. A part of you still felt guilty about not visiting her half as much as you should have, mostly due to barely exiting your house except for your job. Your social anxiety — now you had a name for it, thanks to Ara — had worsened and having to face your best friend meant facing all your shortcomings in terms of friend duties.

Candy’s hair being uncharacteristically tidy was the first thing you noticed, your steps faltering when you noticed she had fresh flowers in her room, together with a basket full of fruit and a picture of Cookie.

You’d brought her nothing.

Namjoon engulfed your hand in his as he noticed your hesitation. “It doesn’t matter, Honey,” he whispered on the threshold, placing his other hand on your cheek, making your panicked glance meet his. “She doesn’t care. She’ll be happy to see you.” You nodded, Namjoon sweetly stroking the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone. “You’ll be fine.”

You nodded again and smiled at him, making him grin back at you.

From her bed, Candy watched the scene, perfectly silent as she watched how much Namjoon had changed and how fragile you looked in his hands. As the moment seemed to fade, comfort seeping from his hand to your skin, Candy cleared her throat, making you turn your head quickly. “The prodigal daughter has returned.”

“Sorry mommy, I’ve been naughty,” you teased with light glee in your voice.

“Come here, you shy cat,” Candy called, opening her arms and inviting you in her embrace. “I missed you, baby,” she whispered once you were hugging her, her hair smelling of disinfectant. It unsettled you a little.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back. “I’m so sorry I was a coward.”

“You were healing too, darling. I know you stopped by a couple times while I was sleeping. And you’ve been very busy, haven’t you? Joonie told me you’re working now.”

You nodded, holding her hand and sitting down on a chair, Namjoon standing behind you. “I’m on a creative team. We’re working on a new line and it’s been challenging.”

“She’s been working hard. I’m very proud of her,” Namjoon admitted, so tempted to put his hand on your shoulder, but deciding to wait for you to initiate contact. After all, he had just stopped holding your hand.

Candy watched your cheeks redden, your small smile telling her something had changed, and from the way Namjoon had helped you calm down, it had to be a good something. “So, have the two of you come here to obtain my blessing?”

Namjoon chuckled. “No, Candy. We’re hanging out. We’re healing.” This time it was you looking for Namjoon’s hand, trying to reassure him. “If we find out this benefits both of us, then I wouldn’t mind asking Honey out. Doing things the old way. But personally, I need to walk before I run.” You turned to look at him. You’d never discussed this topic with him, both of you too focused on finding your roots to go figure out the branches yet, still you were glad he told you, no matter he did so in front of Candy. You didn’t mind, at all; however, you did appreciate the thing he said about doing things the old way. You realised you could enjoy going on a date with him. Kissing him. And though those lips had kissed so many women, you wanted to call them yours, just as much you wanted to remind him yours had been the first.

“Good. I hoped you weren’t pulling a Seokjin on me.” Candy said before seeing the two of you stand very very still.

Namjoon’s hand froze against your own. What was happening to his friend was one of the things that had scared him the most since he was a boy, since he realised he had a crush on you. Having your parents choose the person who should love you forever, in sickness and in health, until death do us part, was a deeply wrong thing, something that irked the deepest, most idealistic part of his soul. And still, no matter how lowly he thought of Seokjin’s circumstances he could not deny he had considered them himself.

“You know our situation is very different,” Namjoon spoke, his voice so cold you knew his mood had dramatically shifted. He needed someplace quiet as his thoughts started getting out of control.

You understood his mood perfectly when you turned towards him, the frown on his face telling you that something was very, very wrong, his jaw locking as he searched for a packet of gummy bears in his pocket.

You knew he could deal with crises by himself, still you needed to make sure he was okay. “Joon, baby.”

His eyes met yours and he gave you a curt nod, putting a distance between the two of you.

“Would you like to get some fresh air?”

He nodded, Candy growing alarmed at his behaviour. He said goodbye, as always polite and warm, but she could tell something was nagging at him.

“Don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” you reassured her once he was out of the room. ”Verbalising his worries is still hard on him. He just needs some quiet place to think.” You took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll text you once he’s feeling better, okay?”

“Keep me updated, please,” Candy asked, patting your shoulder. “You know me and my conscience.”

You smiled and nodded. “Don’t torture yourself.”

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As soon as you and Namjoon exited the hospital, you took a taxi to his apartment, needing the privacy Jungkook's place couldn't offer.

Your hand stayed linked with his throughout the drive, and then until you reached his doorstep. He opened the door and pulled you in, blinking rapidly as he studied the entryway.

There were so many things he'd done in that place — even in that very room — that he wasn't proud of.

“Joonie,” you murmured, squeezing his hand.

“Could you please hold me?”

You wrapped your arms around him immediately as self loathing started rising, the waters so high he could barely breathe. “Joonie,” you whispered again as the first sob escaped his lips. “What is it, dear?”

He placed his forehead against your shoulder. “I was thinking how much I hate what’s happening to Jin hyung, and at the same time I am the same person who actually considered forcing your parents into giving me your hand in marriage?” His snicker was vitriolic. “I’m so disgusting.”

His words cut you like a knife. “You're not, baby. You're strong and beautiful and you're healing.” And I'm falling in love with you all over again and it scares me because it's different — it's better — than before. You held the confession in your heart, keeping it until it didn't feel scary and you could analyse your fears with Ara.

“Why are you still with me, Honey? Why are you by my side, ____?”

The answer came naturally. “Because it's where I choose to be. Because you deserve it, because you make my life lighter, and it feels so good to watch you heal and bloom and become so painstakingly beautiful day after day. You're a miracle, Joon.” You felt tears stream down your face, startling when you realised they were yours. “You're a miracle and I don't want to stop watching you happen.”

When Namjoon touched your face, there was nothing but reverence, devotion, and faith.

He kissed you like he never had. He kissed you like the statue of a saint, like he was pure and unashamed, and because he had known sin and lust, he didn't feel the need for either. He kissed your lips like raindrops touch magnolia petals, like honey bees land on lavender flowers.

You kissed him back, like the sea mirroring the night sky, like the fields of wheat dancing in the breeze, like water healing the cracks of a wasteland. If once it had been fire, now your kisses were water, like a drizzle, like a spring rain.

His face parted from yours. You stared at each other timidly, fondly.

And then the storm began. Your hands grabbed at his hair as you pulled him to you, his body caging you against the wall, one of his hands angling your head as the other one explored your body. He was breathless, excited, incapable of understanding what exactly was happening.

As he realised how unsteady he was in that moment, he slowed down, the kiss turning languid and slow, fond. His palms settled down around your waist while yours still crawled around feverishly.

“Honey, let's stop,” he breathed out, rubbing your spine as you hid your face into his chest.

“Sorry. I got carried away,” you said, words muffled against his chest.

You felt Namjoon's chest shake with a chuckle. “I appreciate it. But we need to go slow. I don't want to throw away all the hard work we did because we didn't take one step at a time.”

You nodded, running your hands down his back. “You're right.”

“Still, I want you to know that stopping right now is one of the most difficult choices I've ever made.” He held you to his chest, caressing your hair. “Let's go sit down.”

Once settled on the sofa, Namjoon turned to face you, holding your hands. “I meant it seriously when I said I wanted to take things easy, like we didn't do when we were kids.”

You shook your head yes, rubbing your thumbs across his knuckles. “Do you forgive me for leaving you?”

He nodded ceremoniously. “That night was an avalanche of mistakes, one after the other. And what happened with Hyuna was the peak of it all.” He brought his hands to his lips, too weak to hold himself back. “It was a complicated series of shared responsibilities. I lied to her, you didn't ask me, you left and I wasn't strong enough. I was dumb and angry and so, so immature because I had let you become my conscience and my peace of mind. Which was my mistake.”

“I didn't let you explain. And I didn't trust you.” You murmured. “And then last summer, I used you. I manipulated you and I brought chaos in your life—”

“Do you forgive yourself for that?” Namjoon asked. “I have forgiven you. I trust you now.” You felt his hands squeeze yours. “Do you forgive and trust yourself?”

It took you a second, taking a deep breath before admitting the hardest truth. “I'm still learning.”

Namjoon smiled. “That's why we'll go slow. And that's why I trust you and respect you, Honey. Hearing you admit that you're still a work in progress makes me so proud of you.”

“I'm proud of you too, Namjoon.” You kissed his wrists, his eyes closing as he basked in the perfection of the moment. “Do you forgive yourself?”

Namjoon nodded. “I'm getting there too. I feel close. I hope that in a few years it will be a distant memory, a very hard, very precious lesson.” He felt like a wall had been pulled down. “Aren't you angry that I didn't tell you about Jimin and Seokjin?”

You shook your head. “I understand why you did that, but I honestly hope you never do it again.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that. Honestly I did it because I was afraid of how you would take it.” He let go of one of your hands to scratch his nape. “All our friends are heartbroken.”

“I’m so sorry for Peach and Yoongi,” you said, pouting. “Fuck.” This time it was you taking your hands away and bringing them to your face, rubbing your palms against your eyes. “She loves him, Joon.”

Namjoon nodded, his expression mirroring your sad one. “I know…” And then he felt a lightning coursing through him. “I never apologised for Peach.”

You looked at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry about that. We were lonely and I thought you would get angry enough to come back and slap me across the face in person. And I hoped you did, because even if I had to see you angry and sad and disappointed, even if you had slapped me, at least I would have seen your face.” His mouth felt too dry.

“I was trying not to feel anything for you,” you confessed.

“Did you feel nothing?”

You shook your head, sucking your lips past your teeth, looking up as you hoped for tears not to fall. “I didn’t stop loving you. Even after that.”

Namjoon felt his heart shatter. “I’m so sorry.”

Once more you dismissed the apology with a wave of your hands. “When did you stop?”

“After the thing with Chris. I realised I never considered how I felt, and you didn’t either. And I never considered how bad I was to you. How unhealthy it was to snap like elastic bands all over the place when the other was around.” You inhaled. “That’s not a way to live.”

Namjoon acquiesced. “Would you feel like trying to be together for real? Me and you? Like two adult, balanced people walking side by side?”

You licked your lips and nodded. And smiled. And nodded. “We’ll take this easy.”

“So easy,” he murmured in return, his entire face alight with joy. “We’ll go on dates, I’ll kiss you goodbye at the door. I’ll buy you a real gift if we make it to one hundred days together.”

You chuckled and got on your knees on the sofa, crawling until you could sit in his lap, his arms welcoming you warmly. “And we’ll keep going to therapy.”

“Of course we will.”

“And sometimes I think we should go together,” you mentioned casually, seeing if he caught your cue.

“Absolutely.” He hugged you to his chest, inhaling your scent. It wasn’t yours. He let it go. “I wanted to ask you, but I was a bit afraid.”

You dragged the bridge of your nose against his jaw. “Of what?”

“Of you saying it was too fast, too soon.” He ran his hands over your arms.

“It’s the only way we can do this like smart people,” you considered, placing your hands on his.

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?” Namjoon asked, leaning his head against your shoulder and closing his eyes.

“Let’s take you to Jungkook’s. I don’t want him to worry.” With one hand reaching behind you, you combed his hair, his heartbeat relaxing against your back.

“You’re right, but it feels too good, right here, right now.”

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When Jungkook opened the door, he didn’t expect to see you next to Namjoon, especially considering that it was fairly late in the night. He marveled at Namjoon’s hand holding on tightly onto yours.

“Hi Guk,” you said, smiling gracefully, speaking gently.

“Hi,” he replied, still a bit confused.

“I’ve brought him back home,” you said, turning to Namjoon and giving him a grin that made his heart beat three times faster.

“Aren’t you coming in, staying for a bit?” Namjoon seemed to pout as he asked.

You turned to Jungkook. “May I?”

The younger man nodded silently as he decided to observe the situation. He felt a bit dumb as he spotted your new dynamics. The way Namjoon seemed to refuse to let go of your hand, the way the two of you seemed to stand closer, to smile brighter. It was like going back to high school, when the man would be found at your side whenever you had some spare time.

You chatted for a while with Jungkook, the three of you together, you venting about your job while Jungkook went on about his, rehearsing what he had so far for his speech to the board as the new CEO, until Namjoon’s yawns grew too blatant not to be noticed, Gureum already sleeping heavily on his owner’s lap, your hand and Namjoon’s meeting as you petted the dog.

As your conversation with Jungkook came to a natural stop, you turned to your best friend in the world. “Want me to go? You should sleep.”

Namjoon��s eyes lowered. “Would you keep me company until I fall asleep?”

You thought about it for a second. You couldn’t see anything bad in it, plus you truly wanted to be there for him. “Go get changed,” you murmured, Namjoon wishing Jungkook goodnight before he woke Gureum up, the dog following him to his room.

“He asked me to wait until he falls asleep,” you told Jungkook.

The man nodded. “I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but he needs steady people to lean on. And even though he’s learning to stand on his own, if you leave this time, I won’t forgive you.”

You bit your lip and stared at the floor as he warned you, nodding in understanding.

“I won’t let go of him this time. I promise. And even if life could bring me far from him, I won’t let the distance separate us.”

Jungkook couldn’t fully understand what you meant, and he was even more confused as you moved quietly to where Namjoon had disappeared. His bedroom was cozy, there were some plants, a very tiny tree, and some cacti by the window. He was brushing his teeth in the ensuite. “May I?” You asked from the entrance.

A muffled confirmation convinced you to step further into the small corridor that led to his bed. You stood there embarrassedly, too new to that space to know how to occupy it. Thankfully Namjoon appeared a few seconds later, finding his spot on the bed and curling up underneath the covers. He had thick flannel pyjamas on, his glasses abandoned on the bedside table.

You looked around, trying to decide what to do. You felt a slight bit of anxiety starting to rise from your stomach before he patted the bed. “You can sit here. I won’t move. One step at a time, Honey.” You didn’t know who was comforting who when you grabbed hold of his hand and laced your fingers together. Cross-legged on the bed, you started touching his hair, knowing how easy it was for him to fall asleep like that.

In twenty minutes, he was asleep.

A small corner of your brain was tempted to lay at his side and let his and Gureum’s heavy exhales lull you, however, you reminded yourself you still had something left to do. Untangling your hand from Namjoon’s you shut the bedside lamp and let the soft gleam of your phone screen help you out of the room, the lights in the living room still on.

You waited in the living room, fixing your dress over and over again, wondering if the woolen fabric and the woolen tights would keep you warm during your first date with Namjoon.

Your first date.

You felt your cheeks rise as a smile appeared on your face, touching them before fixing your hair self-consciously. Your mother was watching tv with the dogs, while you waited there, your toes wiggling as you could barely contain your excitement. And your worry.

Namjoon had never been late for appointments. He’d never kept you waiting. But today…

Fifteen minutes after the agreed time, your phone rang, a picture of him and Gureum appearing on your screen and making you blush like a schoolgirl. He must have ended up stuck in traffic. You picked up the call, your mother immediately looking at you as you murmured, “Namu?”

“Hello Honey.” His voice was hard, strange. You’d never heard it like that. “I must apologise to you.”

Your face dulled down with confusion. “What happened? Are you okay? Do you need time? We can postpone—”

“Hold on, hold on. Wait.” The sounds on his end of the phone were muffled briefly, a feminine voice causing your ears to tingle with suspicion, making your worry increase tenfold. Was he with someone else? Was he hiding you? Or was he hiding someone else? Maybe he was in a club— You scolded yourself for thinking the worst of him; maybe he was dealing with work stuff.

“Are you there, sweets?”

You nodded before humming, realising he couldn’t see you.

“It was Milla. I was meeting the board and I need to talk to you in private for a second.” You heard him huff out in frustration as he was newly interrupted, barking out something before he got back to you. “Sorry again.”

You could see him combing his hair back in frustration. “It’s okay. Do you need to talk about that?”

He tutted and exhaled. “It’s business stuff. I— I have to leave for Kyoto in a couple hours. An investor got cold feet and he’s going to withdraw his sponsorship. I have to fly there asap.”

You nodded as you understood what was going on. “It’s okay. We can wait— I can wait. Just don’t stress yourself, Joon. Okay?”

He hummed in a very unconvincing way. Namjoon looked around, making sure no one would interrupt him. “I really wanted to see you tonight. I… I missed you these last few days.” It had been only four days since he’d fallen asleep at your side, and since then you had both been too busy with your jobs to find some time to meet, even your walks becoming something too hard to arrange. “I’m so tired.”

Your heart clenched uncomfortably as he didn’t bother hiding the stress in his voice. “We’ll take a nap once you’re back. Can you sleep on the flight?”

He tutted. “I have to prepare the reviewed projections.”

You frowned. “Can’t you have Milla do that and take a nap?” You realised you wanted to hold him. You also realised you were sad you couldn’t.

“I need to know exactly how much I’m pushing the numbers.” He threw his head back against the headrest of his seat. “I wish I could hold you right now.”

“Do you need me to come over? You’re in the office, right?” You stood up abruptly, feeling the need to pace.

“It will rain soon, no need, sweets.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you first thing once I’m back.”

You smiled in return. “I’ll take that as a promise.”

“It is.” He allowed himself a few more seconds with you. “Are you upset?”

You shook your head, “uhm, no. I mean, no, really,” you tried to sound serious, to not give away the excitement fading into disappointment. “I was really excited about the…” you looked at your mom on the sofa, very — nonchalantly — interested in your conversation. “About the thing. But it’s okay. We’ll reschedule.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He realised he could book you one extra ticket and have you travel with him, but then again, your job was more important, and he reckoned the smart move would be seeing you once he came back, and make sure that your reunion was worth it. “Then I’m booking your Friday late afternoon. Be ready for six sharp, I’ll pick you up.”

You chuckled, quickly calming yourself right afterward. “Six sharp. Friday. Can’t wait.”

“Me either. I’ll text you before flight departure, later tonight.” I love you. “Take care of yourself, Honey.”

“You too, Joonie. Go get ready, big boy. You’ve got this. I believe in you!”

Before Namjoon could say things out of instinct, he said goodbye and closed the call.

“Namjoon?” your mom asked.

You nodded, your face crumbling with disappointment as you let the phone land on the sofa and went upstairs, wearing your pyjamas and getting ready for a chill facetime with Candy.

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The three days went by relatively quickly, though painfully. The temptations to drink were multiplied once he started getting into a series of business meetings that were way too informal for Namjoon not to notice how the investor was desperately trying to get on his good graces, even “accidentally” introducing his daughter to him.

He managed to get himself out of trouble by faking a disease which strictly forbade him to drink even the mildest of liquors, and he escaped the exceedingly touchy young woman by saying he already had arrangements on him pushed by his family and that any deal on those terms had to be discussed with his father.

The urge to drink that one night was especially disturbing, both to forget the beautiful woman, how he’d allowed himself to study her body with his eyes before he took a deep inhale and thought about you. About how that night in the glasshouse had felt. Sure, he didn’t need to end up with you; still, he felt confused once he picked up his phone and called you. Your voice sounded peaceful. “Joonie.”

“Honey? Are you someplace private? Can we talk?”

The sentence made you worry. “Yeah, I’m in my room.”

“I just— it’s been a long day and the itch to grab a glass is pretty strong right now and there was this girl who threw herself at me and I swear I did not touch her, I just accidentally looked at her chest because it was huge and she seemed to keep trying to get my attention—”

You breathed in, trying to process all the words he was spitting out at alarming speed. “Okay, slow down. Please don’t drink. Grab a pack of candies, some water, some tea, just no alcohol, okay. You’ve been working hard. Draw yourself a hot bath, have some lavender sent in, just focus on calming down, okay?”

His breathing became slower and deeper. He realised he missed The Princess, still he couldn’t rely on it to stay sane.

“Do you need me to call Eunho?” you asked, sitting down on the bed, rubbing your hand against your chest worriedly.

“No, it’s okay. I already called him. We made a plan on how to deal with this and I already calmed down a fair bit compared to earlier. I just needed to tell you about what happened with that woman because I was guilt tripping myself and I really needed to talk to you.” He stared at his legs as they were propped up against the headboard, his back to the mattress as he tried to get his heart rate to an acceptable level.

“Okay. What happened with her?”

“She was throwing herself at me and I really tried to be respectful because I’m committed to you, Honey. I know we’re not rushing but if we’re together in this thing — and I don’t know, what are the expectations? I—” He found himself breathing heavily, brow furrowed, eyes shut as he waited for your reply.

“I don’t care if you look at other women. You have eyes, you can look.” Your voice was steady as you gave him a basic ground rule. “I don’t care if they make a move. We all see people and might catch their attention. All I care about is choice. Intention. If you don’t mean to sleep with them, if you choose to be with me, then they don’t matter.”

“I was so worried, Honey.” Namjoon felt peace rushing through him. “It was— I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I mean, I was staring at the void and I didn’t realise she… her chest was right in the trajectory and I… I panicked and I kept thinking, would you be disappointed if you saw me like that?”

“Namjoon,” you said calmly, your voice soothing him. “I don’t care about you casually, unintentionally looking at someone's breasts.”

“Honey—” He tried to interrupt.

“No. Let me finish.” You licked your lips, trying to gather exactly your thoughts. “Some mechanisms are so deeply embedded in our minds that it’s hard to get rid of them. It’s not the first thought that matters, but the way you correct that first impression. You were doing it absentmindedly. Without intention. I don’t think an involuntary thought should be given much importance. The way you’ve come to me, panicked, worried, makes me understand that you choose to care about me.”

“I care about you, Honey,” he repeated, wishing with all of his heart he could be staring into your eyes, your calm, peaceful stare. “I wish you were here,” he breathed out. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“And I trust you when you say that. I believe you.” Your heart trembled slightly in fear. “Do you miss your life from before? All the… All the girls and…”

“No.” His reply was lightning fast. “It was all so meaningless and I don’t want it anymore. It never had the meaning it had between the two of us.” He longed to touch your cheek as he spoke. He paused as he tried to find the right words. “It was magical, when we… I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away. I must have made it more than it was, you know, memories are always a rose-tinted version of reality and all of that…”

“I felt it too.” You tried to bring some saliva to your dry mouth. “The… the magic.” You had no other words to define that.

Namjoon tiptoed around the topic very carefully. “That night in the greenhouse,” he paused. “You were so far away from me and—” you heard him inhale and exhale slowly. “I don’t want anything like that anymore. I don’t want to pretend to have you.”

You nodded. “I don’t know how to ask this question. It’s something dumb and superficial and—”

“Just ask, Honey. I won’t deny you, and you know it.” He sat up, ready to take anything you would throw at him.

“Do you need sex like… on the immediate? Is it something you can’t go without on an ordinary basis? Us taking things slow, physically… Is it having repercussions on you?” You brought your fingers to your mouth, biting a piece of loose skin.

“Nothing I cannot deal with.” He did have urges; still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty afterwards. He couldn’t allow himself to feel guilty about making love to you. “I mean, am I attracted to you? Yes. Do I want you, physically too? Yes. Do I want to wait until it’s something that I feel worthy of? Absolutely.”

It felt like a type of conversation that needed someone a bit more neutral than the two of you, someone who could translate Namjoon’s words into something you could understand. “Did you talk about it with Eunho?”

He hummed in confirmation.

“I think I need to understand this better,” you admitted. “Do you think we could talk about it together, with him?”

Namjoon mulled it over for a moment. “Okay… ”

“I mean, if you’re comfortable about it—”

“I am,” he reassured you immediately. “Just send me your schedule so I can arrange.”

You giggled. “Good.”

The conversation went on for another half hour or so, Namjoon yawning by the time you decided it was time to let him go to sleep. “Namu, go to bed,” you ordered him, your voice tender as you did so.

He finally agreed, his voice deep and sleepy. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”

You playfully smacked your lips. “There you go. Sleep tight.”

You were ready to close the call when you heard him. “Can I dream of you tonight? Of that time at the boathouse, at dawn?”

You knew exactly which dawn he was talking about, your body reminding you the exact feeling of his touch, reverent, worshipping on the feverish skin of your ribs. “I’ll be dreaming of that with you.”

You heard him smile through the phone. “Then, sweet dreams, my Honey.”

You smiled back, “Sweet dreams.”

Namjoon stood outside your window, the cold December night making his cheeks sting with the freezing weather, a thin layer of frozen mist laying on the ground. He threw one more pebble, hoping to have you open the window.

He was happy to have an excuse to head to the lakehouse, since you were staying in your vacation home with your parents for the weekend. It fit his plan perfectly. He was ready to aim at your window once more when he saw you appear, drawing the curtain and standing there, so happy. You lifted one finger, telling him to wait a second before you left the room in a rush. He rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting for you expectantly.

And then the door opened. It felt like a small glimpse of heaven, especially when you started walking across the garden. “Namjoon,” you whispered out loud.

“Honey.” His smile was breathtaking.

It was like starting to fall in love with him again, except this time it was a deliberate descent, every small choice a step further down into the staircase of his heart. “It’s cold out here, Joonie,” you cooed as you stood in front of him.

“I wanted to see you.” He stared at his shoes. His cheeks were red, like crisp winter apples, the tip of his nose matching the tint. He had a thick beanie on, matching with the scarf protecting his throat, and a fluffy jacket that made you want to hug him even harder. “Sorry I came here so late. I just wanted to let you know that I made it home safe. And I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. ”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, pressing your hands to his red cheeks. “Was the trip tiring?”

He nodded and placed his hands on your waist, tugging you into his embrace, opening his jacket and pulling you into its warmth. You nuzzled in gladly, the soft cashmere of his turtleneck meeting your cheek. “Would you like to come in? I could make you some tea, or—”

He shook his head, eyes crinkled in joy. “I should go home. My parents are waiting for me at the lakehouse.”

“You should have called. I wouldn’t have kept you waiting.” You noticed just how much the cold had bitten into him, taking a step back to look at his hands, red with the cold. You caught them between yours. “You’re freezing.”

He denied it with a tilt of his head. “It was worth it.” He was glowing with joy. You hadn’t seen him that happy in a long while. “Come back here,” he murmured, pulling you back inside his coat.

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him. He found himself giggling. He was happy. So, so happy. And he was okay with having you like this, there but from a distance, but he would also be okay with not having you at all as long as he could have a small chat like this, once a month. A few minutes where he could tell you about himself, and you would tell him about yourself, he would hug you and leave, mind at peace with the knowledge of you walking on a safe path.

“Are you leaving for the Christmas holidays?” he asked, still holding you.

“I think I’ll stay home. What about you?” You started rocking left to right as he waddled side to side, making you giggle.

“I’ll stay in town. I’ll go back to Seoul for a couple family events, or to see our friends.” He smiled. “Swan looks beautiful. And Taehyung is ecstatic. He’s glowing, all the time.”

“When’s the baby bear coming?” you asked, looking up at Namjoon. “End of March?”

He nodded. “The doctors said March 17th, but who knows.” He studied your face, your nose already runny. “You should go back in, you’re dressed too light.”

You couldn’t feel anything but Namjoon. You imagined how good it would be to fall asleep at his side before you could realise you still needed to fix what you had done to him for The Princess — and before that, for that wretched night. You may have forgiven him for that night, for those wretched words, for Chris, but you still had a long way to go before having him in your bed.

It was like he’d read your mind. “As I was coming here, I thought about that night at the gala, with your date,” he started. “I analysed my actions, and my feelings back then. I wanted to make sure no man would take the place I wanted, without realising I wasn’t even remotely suitable for it, for your needs. I didn’t respect you and I want to apologise for it. I’m really scared that I might have possessive and selfish behaviour in the future, and I know it would be unrealistic to promise you I will be a saint; however, now I know how my toxic behaviour works and I’ll make sure I listen to you more carefully in the future. I know we might hurt each other again, but I need to be sure we never go that far ever again.”

You felt your eyes water slightly, biting your lip. “I’m so proud of you, Namu,” you said before kissing his chest. “I don’t think promises such as ‘I’ll never hurt you again’ can actually work, but I’m so very proud of you for committing to avoiding negative behaviour and making up for it when it slips.” You arched your back so you could see his face.

Namjoon nodded. “I want to be a better man. Not the boy I used to be. I can learn from all that pain and cruelty and be a better person to myself. And maybe this thing between us will not work, but still, I’ll always be grateful to you and to the person who will make you happy someday. I used to think everything I did was to make myself better than you. It took me so long to understand that I should always aim at being better than myself.”

“That’s a very kind and smart thing to say, Joon.” You touched the hair at his nape, pulling his head down so you could kiss his lips chastely. “You might think of yourself as a flawed person, but I can only see a healing man. A miracle — and I told you that before. Merciful, kind, wise.” Your hands caressed him adoringly. “And if we’re not made for each other, I’ll support and help anyone who will be at your side.”

He kissed your head, cupping your cheeks and pulling you close. He felt so at home in your arms. “I need to go, Honey.” He bent down slightly to peck your lips with his. “Sleep tight, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He tried unlatching himself from you, but then stopped as you held on to him tightly, refusing to let go.

He felt so emotional at your tender, obstinate embrace. “Wear your pretty white dress tomorrow,” he said fondly.

You stared up at him, grinning brightly. “I will.” You let go of him gently, slowly, with a slight pout on your lips, the temptation of falling asleep in his arms too strong. “Good night, Joonie.” You started walking backwards through the garden, refusing to take your eyes off him. It was like looking at a baby bird slowly making his way out of his egg. He seemed like a man on his way to rebirth, with all the experience of understanding and growing out of his old mistakes.

“Sweet dreams, Honey.” Namjoon waved at you, turning only once he noticed you lingering at the doorstep, carefully studying his frame as he walked away.

As you walked in, you blinked at the field of flowers that was Namjoon’s living room. The entire room was filled with flowers, with vases everywhere, dried lavender and roses and baby’s breath and small plants — since he felt guilty about having too many dead flowers in the room. Right before the fireplace laid a chequered blanket, with a wooden basket, and an overwhelming amount of food.

And then balloons, covering the ceiling in light blue and white. It was a very artificial version of a picnic in the open air, the smell of crisp apples turning it into a late autumn rendezvous. “We didn’t celebrate your birthday for many years. I wanted to make up for that,” Namjoon murmured, helping you take off your coat, Gureum refusing to come indoors since the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow outside.

“Joonie. This is…” You were speechless, walking in the room very carefully, following the path made through the small forest on the floor. You felt tears well up in your eyes, refusing to count how many times he’d managed to make you cry with joy since the two of you had begun this new adventure together.

“It was the least I could do,” he said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck with embarrassment. “Please, come.”

He held your hand as he led you to the blanket, offering you a pillow to sit on, toying with the small pendant of your necklace — cherry shaped. The one he’d gifted you so long ago, when you were still teenagers. He talked with you for hours under the plastic sky on the ceiling, moving the leftovers back inside the basket and moving everything away, laying back on the blanket, Namjoon holding you in his arms. “It’s summer, isn’t it?” he asked, chuckling with that funny laugh of his, making you settle down on his chest.

And in your heart, it truly was summer, but this time you weren’t afraid of the winters ahead, knowing that Namjoon, as a friend or more, would always be at your side.

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Once December rolled around, Namjoon started the craziest quest of the year, trying to find the perfect birthday gift for his little brother, and for his beloved Seokjin hyung — especially now that he looked miserable with the marriage pending over his head like the sword of Damocles. And then Christmas gifts! For his most important friends — and sponsors — Yoongi hyung and the lovely Jungkook, for his parents, who seemed to love him twice as much now, his mother tearing up everytime she saw the two of you together, his smile so bright he could put the Seoul Tower to shame. And though your arrangement wasn’t official, sometimes it felt like it was, your parents having blessed any relationship between you and Namjoon a very long time ago.

Still, there was a person who was more special than anyone else.

On a Sunday morning, Namjoon literally dragged you out of your room, forcing you to get dressed and go out with him. “Come on, the shop is going to close.”

“It’s nine am, stop being a pain, I woke up literally ten minutes ago!” You opposed, from the passenger’s seat, Namjoon driving into town, parking his car at his old place and deciding to walk with you in the pale winter morning. You held tight onto his hand, his leather gloves against your wool-covered hands. A few underground stops later, you were in the beating heart of Gangnam, rivers of people streaming down the main boulevard, the crowd already making you anxious.

“Come on,” he called, placing a hand around your waist as he led you to a slightly quieter street. “It should be… here!” He grinned at you as he found his destination.

The shop could only be defined as a nursery boutique, the insides so attentively designed that you felt intimidated by the deco. “Good morning,” the shop assistant welcomed you as you entered. “How may I help you?”

“We’re looking for some special gifts for a special princess. Is there any chance you have something for us?” His face radiated pure joy.

“The assistant smiled. “Are we looking for clothes, toys, accessories like baby-bags, maybe room decor?”

Namjoon turned towards you, his eyes glittering as he waited for your reply. He was blatantly expecting you to direct him. “A blanket, maybe? And a plushie?” you suggested, looking back at him.

He nodded, smiling, his dimple making a glorious appearance and causing you to swoon. If this is what he’d dragged you out for, then you were ready to do that a thousand times more.

Ten minutes later, Namjoon was struggling to pick which baby shoes he liked best — blanket and plushie already in the cart, together with a lovely light green onesie, an oversized cream coloured teddy bear that could replicate the mother’s heartbeat for the baby to sleep peacefully. And then a richly illustrated fairytale book, an expensive baby monitor and a set of toiletries for bathtime, among which a few rubber duckies that had reminded you both of your childhood together.

“What an eager dad,” the shop assistant commented merrily as she started scanning the endless list of items.

Namjoon froze. Did she mean… him? “Actually uncle,” he corrected with a chuckle. “It’s our little niece,” he replied with a fond smile.

“Oh, sorry!” The cashier apologised, her cheeks slightly rosy.

“Don’t worry! I mean, maybe… Someday… Who knows!” He laughed his embarrassed laugh, looking at you with stars in his eyes.

You felt your knees grow weak. Yes. This was the enamoured, devoted man you could see as the father of your children — that hopefully hadn’t got anyone else pregnant in his womanizer streak, but you let the thought fade to nothing. You would face that too, together.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the shop assistant’s voice. “We usually keep this for our most special customers, but I think you could be interested. We have a very close collaboration with The Royal Garden.” You bit your lips, smiling and looking away, feeling your cheeks heat. “They will be releasing a new line of baby products called Lily, coming out next March,” the woman continued.

Namjoon turned to you, cocking his head to the side with amusement.

“Since it will be released exclusively, we want to make sure we book the products in advance for our clients, so you’ll be able to have the limited edition release,” she concluded.

“I think our lily will have her fill of that already,” you replied kindly, “but I’m happy to hear my family’s products are creating such great anticipation.”

The cashier’s gaze disappeared behind her hands with a second bout of embarrassment. “I am infinitely sorry,” she replied, fixing all your items in the bags, the teddy bear taking a bit too much space.

Namjoon smiled for the rest of the morning, the two of you stopping by his apartment only to put all the gifts in the back of his car, the bear taking the entirety of his backseat. “So, The Lily,” he mused.

“The Lily.”

“And when were you going to tell me?” he asked with a grin, side-eyeing you while he drove.

“At the baby shower, maybe” you mused.

He nodded. “Ah… Keeping it from me for so long?”

“I have my sweet secrets,” you replied cheekily, smiling at him mischievously.

He nodded some more with a cocked eyebrow. “Guess I’ll have to tickle them out of you.”

“They’re industry secrets. I can’t trust you with them, you business shark.” You looked out of the window, the landscape turning from suburban to rural as you reached his lakehouse.

You usually didn’t answer the phone while working, especially since it was your private phone and you rarely had it on you. However, fate wanted things to go differently that morning, especially since seeing Candy’s name, knowing her rigorous work ethic, let you know that the matter was urgent. “What happened? Jungkook? Peach?” you asked, your heart already beating loudly in your chest. “Joonie?”

Candy’s voice was very calm and chirpy when she replied, “hey, I just called to check in on you. Is everything okay, Princess?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if something happened since you called. You never call during work hours,” you replied lightheartedly, quite happy to hear your friend, but also still dubious about her motive. After all there had to be one.

She snorted before continuing, “yeah, I normally don’t, but working from home is a pain in my ass. I’m bored out of my mind, but that’s not why I called.” Her tone got lighter and more vague, which meant she was treading lightly over dangerous territory. “I was looking through Dispatch to check up on any publicity, both good and bad for my brand ambassadors and I saw an article about you and Namjoon shopping for baby stuff?”

You rolled your eyes. “Wait, can you send me the link? We were just shopping for Swan’s baby, but I guess they made it something it wasn’t, right?” You knew it already.

As she found her source, you heard some rustling on her behalf. “Yeah, one second. I thought that might’ve been the case, but I wanted to make sure. Can you believe baby Swan is arriving soon? Tete won’t shut up about it, but I can’t wait to meet her either. Okay, I sent you the link.”

You smiled at the memory of Namjoon’s expression, already enamoured of a baby he had yet to meet. “Joon is so happy about it. He’s gonna spoil that baby before it’s born. Let me check the damage”. On speaker mode, you commented the title as you read: ‘Kim heir: from daddy to dad’. “Well, the title is already something… I can’t believe this. I’m so fed up of these fucking tabloids.” You exhaled, stressed. “I hope this won’t make Joon spiral. Why do they pathologically need to shove their noses in other people’s business, for god’s sake. Why don’t they get on some bitch ass like Hyuna?”

Candy’s growl already told you her opinion. “Ugh, don’t say her name around me. Just hearing it makes my blood boil. I hope she gets what’s coming. Jail, maybe?” The hopeful, playful lilt to her voice made you laugh at her joke — well, maybe not joke.

“The very bare minimum,” you commented. “Anyway, is the rest of the gang doing okay? I reckon I’ve been living in my bubble with Joon and missing out on everyone else. Is Hoseok still around? Is he behaving? Do you need someone to kick his ass?”

Candy cackled, Hoseok’s voice appearing at the other end of the line. You heard them chit chat before he spoke loud and clear, “is it about Daddy Joon?”

The woman’s laugh was hysterical as she went on, “yeah, Daddy Joon is expecting and looking super good in a white t-shirt and jeans!”

You shook your head, and still, you smiled at the glee in their voices. “Yeah, yeah, go on, keep teasing. We all know you’ll get the bun in the oven first. Anyway, I should check up on him, send him a quick head-up.”

Candy seemed to be slightly taken by surprise at your little jab. “Shut up, Princess, that’s not happening for a while. Let’s see how I am with baby Swan first, and then I’ll see about having kids of my own.” A loud clatter of pans and pots echoed from her side, the woman immediately panicking for her boyfriend, while you panicked for your still recovering friend as she mentioned standing up and helping.

“Candy! He’s the one supposed to help you, babe, don’t you dare move!” you almost screamed on the phone. “Jung Hoseok I swear to god, you incompetent chipmunk!”

“But Princess, my future husband! What if he’s hurt? Do you know how hard it is to not move? I used to be captain of the dance team!! I can’t not move!” you could almost see her imploring look matching her whiny tone.

You acquiesced, “we know it, babe, we know. Hold on, incoming call from Joonie, I really have to go. And we’ll have to explain this to our parents…”

“Good luck with that! Tell Daddy Joon Hobi and I say hi!” Candy said, sending you an avalanche of kisses as you spoke your final warnings.

“Of course. Have a nice day! And Hoseok, you’d better behave. Don’t stress my darling. Love you, bye!!!”

“Bye, sweetheart!”

Quickly you moved on to your awaiting call. “Joon,” you replied.

“I got a text from Yoongi. Are you okay?” he asked, “I’m driving there right now, I need to see you, I won’t take too long.”

You hummed in confirmation.

“It’s okay, we’ll handle this. I’m downstairs. Wait— Good morning, uncle.”

You blinked a couple times. “I’m with your dad,” he whispered. “I— Yes, I’m on the phone with her,” he spoke, not at you. “He said to meet in his office.”

You sucked your lips into your mouth. You knew his permission was not a problem, therefore… “See you there.”

Standing beside Namjoon, your dad at his desk, felt like a very difficult position to be in, especially since your dad looked like he wasn’t entirely pleased with the situation. “So, am I going to become a granddad?” he asked, straight off the bat, making your knees tremble slightly.

Joon made to start talking, but you interrupted him. “We were buying gifts for Namjoon’s niece. It is absolutely not the way they wrote it, of course.”

“Except the part where it says I look extremely happy with Honey— I mean, your daughter, uncle.” Namjoon was quick to clarify. “I am immensely happy with her. And I hope she returns the feeling.”

“Which I do,” you confirmed quickly.

“No kids out of marriage. That shall be clear. I want my daughter safe and my little flowers having two committed and loving parents.” Your father looked at Namjoon with a gaze that would have made you incinerate in shame and fear. “Don’t think you haven’t made a name for yourself in the city. I know my girl is smart — maybe way too smart for you — and she won’t be one more notch on your bedpost.”

Namjoon’s cheeks reddened significantly. “Dad!” you said in warning.

“I know, he’s not like that anymore. But I want it to be clear. If I hear of your hands on anyone but her, I’m going to cut them off, together with something else—”

“Dad!” you exclaimed once more.

“He’s right, Honey.” Namjoon looked at the polished floor. “I haven’t made the best name for myself—” he turned to your father. “And I know I don’t deserve your daughter. But I’m working hard to be worthy of walking at her side, possibly forever.”

Your father nodded. “I know you’re a good man. I was just going through fatherly duties.” He stood and walked toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Are you doing okay? I know the public eye is very hard on you.”

“I’m doing fine, yeah. I’m ready for it, this time.” You smiled reassuringly, Namjoon shyly reaching for your pinkie with his.

“Good. How do you guys want to handle this? Deny? Confirm relationship, deny pregnancy? Announce marriage?”

You smiled nervously. “I think we’d like to discuss this by ourselves first,” you commented.

“Fine, I’ll let you talk it out,” your dad said with an equally tight smile. Probably he’d already texted your mom and she was already filing the guestlist for your marriage. He exited the door, peeking from the great glass opening on the wall and giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “So, what do we do?”

Namjoon thought about it. There was a time he wanted to have your name tied to his with a double knot, but now he knew it wouldn’t be the best compliment to your reputation. “I don’t want the press breathing down our neck. I want to keep you safe, Honey, and safety means your name far away from the tabloids. But my choice is only one side of the coin. I’ll follow your lead in this, though I must admit I’d rather not put that kind of pressure on myself.”

“Let’s say we hang out with the same people and I’m the baby’s godmother and we thought it natural for two people so close to the child to be hanging out together.” You shrugged.

“It won’t explain the picture of us walking hand in hand or me with an arm around your waist. Or booping your nose,” he said, this time a tiny smile on his face.

“Fuck.” He opened his arms, your body fitting perfectly against his. “I fucked up so bad. Does it really, unequivocally show that it’s us?”

“Sort of…” he murmured, fixing your hair out of your face.

You fake sobbed — one of his habits that had stuck to you. “Then let’s keep it neutral. We’ve been hanging out but we prefer to enjoy our acquaintance without the pressure of the press.”

He nodded. “It’s pretty generic. They’ll think we’re together anyway, but yeah, acquaintance sounds like a nice word.”

“Good,” you conceded, feeling his index tapping against the tip of your nose.

“It feels good to see you during the day.” He smiled at you. “Sorry circumstances but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Neither will I,” you replied mischievously, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Candy and Hobi say hi, by the way.”

He shook his head, “those happy-go-lucky chipmunks.”

You grinned at him, shaking your head as you combed his hair back. “You look so handsome today.”

“Gotta keep myself pimped up for you,” he replied cheekily. “Unless your eyes stray from their rightful target.”

Again, you shook your head, incapable of holding back an abashed smile. “As if…” You linked your arms behind his neck and pulled him down, kissing his nose. “Careful about your hands, pretty boy. Dad will probably check the security cameras to know exactly what happened in his studio.”

He positioned them respectfully at your shoulder-blades, forcing himself to keep his hands in place. “I love my hands and I’d rather keep them, thank you very much.” He skimmed the upper half of your spine. He placed his lips close to your ear. “I believe you’d enjoy me keeping them, too.”

A shiver coursed through you, Namjoon’s hands holding you tighter. “This still works?” he mused, with a small chuckle. “Amazing.”

“You’d be amazed at how many things still work, Joonie.” You stood on your tiptoes, the hands around your waist propelling you even further up. “And be careful about your tongue too, boy, lest he cut that too. That would be a true loss,” you teased with a snicker, Namjoon shaking his head before smirking.

“I should really go, shouldn’t I?” he asked, caressing the back of your head. “I’ll draft a statement for the press along the lines we established. I’ll have it sent to you and your father for approval.”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

“I have an appointment in ten and I need to head back now, darling.” He kissed your forehead. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Again you bobbed your head.

“Honey, are we good?” he asked, taking a step back and cupping your face.

“We’re fine, Namu,” you confirmed, watching him get ready to leave.

“Goodbye sweetheart.”

“Goodbye Joon.”

“Merry Christmas!” You greeted everyone, walking in the room with Namjoon’s arm around your waist, his lips at your temple. “Look at that Christmas tree, Namu, you did a great job!”

“Mom helped,” he purred back-hugging you, by now shameless in his skinship with anyone around. There was nothing keeping him from holding you in his arms, not even small rumors still feeding old news and little updates, blowing them endlessly until they became so ridiculous you laughed them off. There had been a minor crisis when a minor tabloid suggested you were the reason for his whoring around. But then everything had been smooth, almost idyllic in its proceeding.

“And you got all those gifts,” you cooed, toning it down once your parents also entered the room.

“I did,” he purred, getting a slap on the back by your father.

“Decency, kid,” he reprimanded Namjoon playfully.

“Oh, come on, let them be. You were an octopus too back when our parents announced the engagement,” your mother said, snitching on him.

The parents chatted to themself while you and Joon sat by the fireplace, waiting for Taehyung and Swan to arrive. The woman’s belly was definitely swollen, her shirt fitting her barely. “Ah, look at you, you’re so pretty!” Your awed gaze explored the curve of her belly, almost touching it before you took a step back. “May I?” you asked, Swan nodding as she took in your wide eyes imploring her.

“Hi baby,” you cooed, placing your hands on her tenderly, almost reverently. “That’s so beautiful, Swan,” you spoke with wonder in your voice. “Are you feeling okay? Is the 17th confirmed or did the doctor change the expected date?”

“Confirmed for now. We’re doing okay, plus Taehyung keeps spoiling me.” She smiled brightly. “There couldn’t be a safer, more comforting environment to expect. The gang has been so supportive, and Candy loves hanging out with the baby.”

“Already working on that Best Auntie spot, uh?” You shook your head, Namjoon holding your hand, staring at Swan’s radiant face.

“Hello sister,” he called, making her smile.

“Hi Joon,” she greeted affectionately. “I want to thank you again for all the gifts for our daughter.”

He shrugged. “Bare minimum. May I?”

She nodded, Taehyung standing protectively at her side.

Namjoon patted the belly delicately, entirely fascinated. As Swan stared at your face, she noticed your eyes glitter with an emotion not yet spoken. “Shall we go sit at the table?” Taehyung asked, worriedly supporting his partner.

Dinner was a lengthy ordeal, styled perfectly to mix Korean tradition and the religious festivity. The table was filled with love, laughter, and true warmth. It was far from your Christmas with the American branch of the family, mostly because of the arm propped on the back of the chair after dinner, Namjoon barely holding himself back from peppering small kisses all over the side of your face. He was allowed to do so. To kiss you, to hold you, to take your hand in his. He was allowed to caress your hair and touch your waist and grip your hips and every time he did so, he felt like there was no better person he could wish at his side. He stared at Taehyung and Swan, exchanging a tell-tale wink with his brother.

“Shall we move to the sofa, my dear?” Taehyung spoke quietly, nuzzling his nose against Swan's hair.

“Let's go,” she replied, Taehyung helping her chair away from the table and her up on her feet thought it was absolutely unnecessary.

Namjoon felt sorry for only a second, reminding himself he had every right to snatch you away from the party. He excused himself for a moment, placing a hand on your father's back before he spoke something in his ear, your mother and Aeri’s loud talking keeping you from hearing what it was about.

“Trivial matters,” Namjoon explained briefly, a hand on your shoulder before he and your father left the room. He was back a few minutes later, your eyes meeting his as soon as he appeared.

He kissed his mother's cheek. “Merry Christmas, mom,” he spoke, before hugging his dad. You were confused. “We're heading out, say bye to our people, Honey.”

You blinked and did as he told you, your mom smiling at you, already misty eyed. You had a vague idea of the reason why Namjoon was taking you away. It wasn't that much of a mystery to either of you. You had been waiting for a long time and well, it was time to wait no more.

“Keep the fluffkin,” Namjoon told his brother, Gureum confused at the fact that his owner was temporarily leaving him to the dog-sitters. “Merry Christmas guys. Merry Christmas baby,” he said, sending a flying kiss to the belly. “Come on, let's go, the trip is kinda long,” Namjoon told you, leaving his keys by the door.

“The car?” you asked, pointing at his key chain while he helped you wear your coat.

“No need.”

“The trip is long?” you said, quoting him.

“Metaphorically,” he said before wearing his coat and picking you up bridal-style. “I'll have to carry you. Open the door?”

“Joon?!”

“Open the door, come on.”

You complied, him saying goodbye once more before taking a few steps out, making you close the door.

“What the hell, Joon? It's Christmas. You could have waited one more hour!” you scolded him, still holding him tighter.

“Not really. Timing is fundamental. Do you have your bag?” he checked, just as you pointed to your dad's car, thanking God that he'd left it open. Poor man was so excited to celebrate with his dearest friends. And maybe see his daughter become an engaged woman by the end of the night. After all, you were getting old, that's what he always told you. With your bag laying on your belly, Namjoon started making his way to the backyard, the lake glimmering in the distance. Still, the small house shone brighter.

“Joon? The boathouse?” You asked, staring at its renewed outside, the small building entirely renovated, its wooden axes outside beautifully restored, the roof still rustic but definitely more healthy and the small windows decorated with white lace curtains.

“Yes, the boathouse,” he said, bringing you closer to the building, lanterns elegantly placed on the window sill. It looked like a sweet cabin, one of those where you drink hot chocolate and eat marshmallows and nap with a soft quilt on an old leather sofa. Where you can read and rest and cook apple pies and smell the scent of pinewood from the furniture and the hardwood floor.

Namjoon opened the door very clumsily, the smell of wood immediately swallowing you before he even took the first step inside.

“You said your parents were demolishing it because of bugs?” You asked, staring at the small paradise that was inside.

Quilt: got it. Comfy leather sofa: got it. Library: got it. Small, functional kitchen: got it.

“We were just having it fixed. A couple rooms were added. There's running water. There's a fireplace. There's a bedroom.”

You turned to look at him.

“Actually there are two.” He looked away from you, his cheeks reddening. “We kept the front side the same, since you loved it. We have a patio on the side, towards the lake.”

“Joon.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, puppy eyed, placing you down in fear you rejected the small home he'd made for the two of you. “I mean, the inner decor is a bit lacking, but that's something you could handle, I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, I wanted you to have your things too, choose your style—”

“Joon,” you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“Oh, god, I fucked up, didn't I?” He hugged you to his chest, covering your face in kisses. “I'm so sorry, Honey. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'm sorry,”

“Joon, stop,” you said, Namjoon taking a step back immediately, hiding his face in his hands, feeling so awfully out of place. “I love it,” you told him, his expression transfixed. You looked around, feeling your heart tremble with confusion and excitement and emotions too deep to be better defined. “I love you.”

Namjoon stared at you, mouth agape. “You what?”

“I love our home. And I love you.”

He picked you up in his arms in seconds, spinning you around and covering your whole forehead with kisses. “You love me!” he cheered, incredulous and so, so elated as he squished your face between his hands. He quickly let go of you, jumping as high as he could as he spun in circles. “You love me!!!”

You cackled at him. “I do, you oversized puppy!”

Once more you found yourself catapulted in his arms as he lifted you to his face. “I love you too, Honey.” He stared deep into your eyes. “I love you so, so, so, so, so, so much!” he said before a meteor shower of kisses rained down on your face.

“I have a gift for you,” you said, looking at him as he smirked at you. “Nope. That one's for later,” you chirped, making him nuzzle his nose up with yours. You grabbed your bag and sat down on the thick carpet before the fire. It was so fluffy you already knew you would fall asleep on it sooner or later.

Namjoon sat in front of you, both of you cross-legged as you rummaged in your bag, finding a medium sized box that fit on your palm. The white ribbon confirmed it was exactly what you were looking for.

You handed it to him, urging him to open it. He shredded the thin paper in seconds. “Honey,” he murmured, confused and overjoyed. “Honey…” he called again, opening the box and studying the glass bottle inside.

“It's… I couldn't let go of it. It's part of us, of who we are. Cancelling it would be a mistake. So I simply updated it to something more balanced, stronger but also cooler. More composed. The difference is barely there, I don't think you're going to notice,” you explained.

“You're not wearing any, right?” he asked, sitting up, bringing the bottle close to your neck.

You tutted, confirming his assumption. “Go ahead.”

Namjoon spritzed the perfume against your neck, where his cherry pendant had been laying for days now, since your first date. He waited for the alcohol to drift away before he brought his nose to the underside of your ear, smelling you like a truffle dog. It was rather funny, if it weren't for the way his lips sent zings of electricity across your body.

“There's something…” he mused, taking another sniff. “Like… a good something. But… I can't put my finger on it.”

“Let's see if this can help.” You extracted another box, the blue ribbon calming you as you offered it to him. Once more, he tore the paper off, almost breaking the unnamed, plain box as he extracted the bottle inside.

“Honey, is it…?”

“Wear it,” you told him, giving him an encouraging pat on the leg.

As soon as he put it on, he recognised his own scent. “It's The Knight.”

“Incorrect.” You bit your lip nervously, trying to hold back the brightest smile of your entire life. “That is The Prince.”

Namjoon blinked in confusion. “It's my cologne.”

“It is, but it's called The Prince now,” you explained, grinning, feeling like a rubber ball ready to bounce all over the room with excitement. “Sniff it and then The Princess next.”

Namjoon followed your instruction, trying to understand what was happening. As he placed his nose close to your neck for the second time, he felt it. “Peppermint.”

You nodded. “It's always been an undertone in The Knight. I just reinforced it in The Prince. And added it to The Princess, which did a little name change too.”

Namjoon moved aside the carton wrapped around the base, unveiling the surprise, the label reading, 'The Princess — in Love'.

Namjoon placed the matching bottles out of the way, standing on his knees and placing a hand around the back of your hand, another around your waist, pushing you down with your back to the rug. “Fuck, Honey, you're gonna kill me like this, love,” he murmured before laying on top of you, your lips stretching to his mouth chastely, your kisses close-mouthed, childish like the very first one you had exchanged. “This is incredible. You’re incredible,” he spoke against your lips, feeling his body responding to yours. “Are we— Is this rushing? I mean… I don’t want you to come live here if you’re not— I mean, if you want to, then it’s okay, but we could, like— Stay here for the weekend, like a holiday getaway or something…”

You nodded, caressing his face. “It will be our getaway home.”

He mirrored your nod, kissing your forehead. “We’ve been dating for what, three weeks? A month? I’m… I’m dumb. I’m rushing, I’m sorry—”

You chuckled, cupping his cheeks with both your palms. “You’re greedy. And giddy. We’ll keep talking things through to make sure it’s not too fast too soon. But I’m okay with the idea of coming here for the weekend. Have some quality time. Me, you, Gureum. Having our friends over. Babysitting your niece when the guys go on dates. Spend rainy afternoons reading.”

He closed his eyes and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, feeling the lavender and mint mix fill his lungs, calm him down and at the same time make his blood sing in his veins. “Will I also be allowed to make out with you in front of the fireplace?”

You smirked and nodded, his dimple appearing on his face before you poked it.

“After three dates I’m already trying to get under your clothes. You must really think I’m such a womanizer.” He hid further into your neck, trying not to feel too embarrassed. He did feel sorry. He wanted to give you something better than stealing you from your families just so he could hoard you all to himself and kiss you and cuddle you and sleep next to you.

You wrapped your legs around him, trying to bring his hips closer to yours, humming when you managed to grind against his thigh. “If you wanting me after three dates makes you a womanizer, I don’t know how I should feel about how much I want you right now.” He felt amazing up against you, his shoulders definitely bulkier now compared to a few months ago, his legs more muscular after all the walks and treks.

“You want me?” he whispered. You nodded, kissing his head before he untucked himself from your neck. “You really do?”

You nodded again, smiling, combing his hair with your fingers. And the way you looked at him… He hadn’t seen that glance aimed at him in so long. He couldn’t believe you loved him again. He couldn’t believe you had chosen him: among all the people, you had chosen him. Flawed — no, healing. Trying. He was a work in progress, just like you are.

When he asked himself how could you believe in him, he always reminded himself of how much he believes in you. When he thought your feelings for him would falter, his own feelings for you reassured him and calmed him.

He kissed you slowly, melting into you, eyes rolling close, your hands rubbing up and down his back. His fingers traced your face reverently, drawing your lips, your cupid’s bow, the arch of your nose, your eyebrows, waiting for you to lower your eyelids to trace the cute curve of your lashes. “Honey,” he said, simply, fondly, skimming the side of your body, gripping your thigh before kissing you again. “Let me make love to you, please.”

You naturally brought your fingers to the zipper of his jumper, pulling it down. “Yes. Yes, please.”

And though with anyone else, in any other circumstance, it would have felt rushed, there was nothing else you wanted to do with him, after the most beautiful months of your lives together, in the house he’d imagined for the two of you. It was a wonderful night, it was the perfect moment and— you loved him.

“I love you,” he repeated again, feeling your hand on his nape. “It feels so good to say.” His smile was radiant as you explored his chest with your hands. It was way still broad, vaguely rounder, and smooth, and hot.

“I love you,” you breathed out, kissing his throat as he took off his jumper and laid on his side, touching your face, scared of taking off even a single piece of clothing.

You rose to your knees and did it for him, slipping your dress off from over your head, the stretchy wool making the operation almost effortless. Before him, you stayed, unafraid, looking right into his eyes as you removed the slip underneath, your body only covered in your underwear and a pair of tights.

He laid lazily with his back on the carpet, looking right into your eyes, feeling like there was nothing else he could stare at. He’d seen plenty of half naked bodies, but no one had a glance like yours. “Come,” he said, warm and loving, opening his arms and offering his body as your pillow. You straddled him, placing your lips against his and simply breathing in his breath. Your eyes closed as you touched your forehead with his, his hands around your waist,

“This is the only thing I’ve ever had any faith in,” he whispered. “Peace.” And he knew it wasn’t you, it wasn’t with you. It was within himself. He realised he wasn’t eager to have you, it wasn’t possession, it was rather the idea of gifting himself, of being so grateful. “I wanted you for so long that I lost sense of having myself.”

“It sounds strange but I want you to make love to yourself through me.” You caressed his hair, his hands joining yours as you cupped his cheeks. “For all those times you made love to me, that summer, while I was being foolish.”

He shook his head and rubbed his nose against you. “I forgive you.”

You bit your lip, feeling your eyes water. “I forgive you, Namu.”

He held you as tight as he could without smothering you, and after he kissed your cheek, he traced your ear with his lips. “Can I take this off?” His hand lingered on the clasp of your bra.

“Yes,” you breathed out, fingers dancing on the closure of his belt. “May I?”

“Yes.” And once more, ‘yes’, he repeated, when your finger accidentally grazed his crotch. “Yes” you whimpered, when he rolled you on your back and helped you get rid of the tights. ‘Yes’, he growled when you lifted your hips and slipped off your panties before sitting down on the clean blanket he had laid for you.

You shone in the delicate gleam of Christmas light and the flames from the fireplace. And he was bathed in the same light when he laid beside you, bringing you closer to him, holding you in his arms once more. “You’re even more magical than I remember,” he spoke, so fondly you felt nothing but adoration. He kissed you endlessly, covering your face in kisses. “I need to go grab protection,” he told you, needing to stay responsible for a second, though all he wanted was to slip inside you and stay there until he couldn’t hold still anymore. You didn’t stop him when he stood. Not when he walked to the other room. Not when he walked back, his body so beautiful in the mellow light, a blush creeping up your cheeks when your gaze tumbled down and met his hardening cock.

“Something to say, Honey?”

You shook your head and smiled mischievously at him as he made himself comfortable at your side. By the simple fact that he’d brought a whole box of condoms, you knew you would lay in front of the fire for a fairly long time. You couldn’t complain: the faux fur carpet was comfortable enough and you knew his chest would be your pillow for the night.

“Nothing to say,” you confessed with a grin. “Except I love you.”

He hummed teasingly and smiled, “yeah, so I’ve heard.” He cupped your breast, kissing when he could feel your heartbeat. “Wanna stretch you out. And then I wanna die inside you.” He kissed your chest, again, and again, his fingers tiptoeing at your waistline. “May I?”

You joined his hand with yours and led him down. He swallowed your gasp once he entered you with his middle finger, praising you, kissing your furrowed brow, shushing you until you allowed him to move, his thumb rubbing small, fleeting circles on your clitoris. “Does it feel good?”

“You’re still so damn good at this,” you said, elated, breathless.

He smiled and drew your jaw with the tip of his nose. “You taught me,” he said before inhaling your scent. You smelled like you and him, together, at last. “Light, slow circles.”

With one hand gripping his shoulder, the other nestled deep into his hair, you started grinding against him.

“Faster? Harder?” he asked, using his whole face to touch you since both his hands were busy — one holding himself up, the other showing you a pleasure you’d never needed from anyone else except him and yourself.

“Faster, I’m—” He pressed his lips to yours, tongue sliding in as he used your favourite method in muffling your moans, pleasure erupting from your core, back arching, arms wrapping around his neck as you tried to have him closer, nearer, where he could be your anchor and comfort you and hold you and tell you over and over, with the loud drumming of his heart that he loves you, he loves you, just you, with his delicate, healing, immense soul.

“It’s okay, Honey,” he told you, just like he did the first time he slid inside you, the burn barely there on that strange and scary and wonderful night. Almost as wonderful as that precise moment, when you watched him cover his cock with a condom and hover on top of you. “We can wait,” he reminded you for the tenth time.

“If you say that one more time, I swear I’m going to tie you up and fuck me by myself,” you hissed, scratching his back as he got in position.

He shook his head and snickered. “Here I was, thinking you wanted something romantic and soft for our first time as a couple. An officially taken, officially in love couple.”

A sudden attack of fondness kept you from a vitriolic remark, making you giggle before you widened your legs further for him, wrapping them around his waist right as he slid inside. “Fucking lovely,” he hissed, letting you suck on his thumb as you moaned, getting used to the stretch. “You’re so perfect,” he said, closing his eyes, trying to spare himself the vision that would inevitably, and quite shamefully, destroy his stamina and self control.

“You are, too,” you mewled, knowing exactly what to do to get what you wanted. “Just like that summer.” You kissed his neck before giving it a tentative lick, causing him to growl. “You got me so hooked I refused to have anyone else,” you said, trying to sound casual in the way you were provoking him. “You’ve always been the only one.”

Namjoon managed to give two more thrusts before his brain processed and his body stopped. “What? In nine years?”

“You left a lasting impression,” you said with a cute chuckle.

“Nine years?”

You nodded and gripped his ass, sinking your nails in his flesh. “Yes, now will you please ruin me?”

He emitted a sound similar to a roar, pushing inside with an animal force, using his arms to keep you still, though his thrusts pushed you slightly against the blanket, causing you to slide upwards slightly, the friction warming your skin. “Can’t wait to cum inside you, someday. Have you full of my cum,” he hissed and growled.

And with a condom on, your birth control in place, indulging in your little fantasy seemed way safer than usual. “You want to fill me with your babies?”

He whimpered, biting your shoulder, taking in your scent.

“I know you want to cum, Joonie. I wanna feel you cum,” you murmured temptingly.

“Not without you,” he said, so vulnerable bringing one hand down right as you stopped him.

“Hold me, I’ll handle that.” And with that, you started working to your climax, feeling it burn hotter and hotter until you couldn’t handle it anymore, letting go, your fingers faltering as pleasure defeated you. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

“Honey,” he cried out, “Honey, love, please. Say, say—“

“Namjoon,” you whimpered, his head nodding furiously against the crook of your neck. “Cum. Feel good for me. Don’t you wanna own me? Mh? You can, baby.”

He spoke your name through gritted teeth and let his hips snap roughly again and again, his abs tensing, his breath stopping in his lungs before he released it with a howl.

“Yes, love. Come here, baby,” you cooed, arms open as he crashed on top of you, nuzzling his face against your chest as his climax faded. Both your and his blood started calming down as you laid in front of the fireplace, your hand skimming his spine, up and down, until he found the strength to speak.

“You’re perfect, Honey. You’re so, so perfect darling.” And with feelings filling his heart, he said all the things he’d wanted to say the first time he found pleasure inside you, when he loved you so much already.

And now he’d learned to love you better. To love you right. And to love himself. Finally, his black night glittered with stars and he could soar at your side.

He borrowed wings no more.

⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸◯⫷⫸

Tagging: @blushingatyou @thejooncrew @ggukkieland @luvaffaire @bluesharksandfish (through DMs)

[redriotbaby]

finding out their s/o is pregnant ft. haikyuu

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x female! reader, Hinata Shouyo x female! Reader, Kozume Kenma x female! reader, Miya Atsumu x female! reader, Oikawa Tooru x female! reader, Sawamura Daichi x female! reader, Tendou Satori x female! reader

Rating: pg 13?

Genre: PURE FLUFF, established relationships, mood swing, a tiny fight with slight jealousy on Oikawa’s part, and some crackheadedness :) 

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and anxiety

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary/ Request: “hi hi hi !! i just found your page and i love it it's so cute uwu🤩

could i request hc/drabble (anything really) of finding out their s/o is pregnant with tendou, daichi, hinata, bokuto, atsumu, kenma, oikawa

just a crumb of something to itch my brain please 👉🏻👈🏻”

A/n: Hello, thank you so much for requesting this. I had such a lovely time writing this and being all mushy. Just like all my other works, I had to find a way to make it a teeny bit of crackheaded. I hope you enjoy this work and thank you again. Also thank you to @meowstea​ for helping me brainstorm this (I adore you). Thank you to @plutointhestars​ and @jeonsjiddies​ for beta reading this for me. Requests are open, just please read my rules before sending in an ask. Also, if there’s any other warnings that need to be added, please let me know. I’ll be happy to add them for y’all. Hope y’all enjoy, any feedback would be greatly appreciated :)

Bokuto Koutarou 

It was your five-year anniversary with Bokuto and instead of going out, Bokuto wanted to be your personal chef for the night.

Weeks prior to your anniversary date, Bokuto spent his free time watching cooking videos and memorizing recipes of foods that had your eyes glimmer. 

Seeing all his hard work and puppy eyes, how could you say no. 

So here you were, admiring the love of your life happily cook a meal for you.

The delightful aroma causes you to unconsciously rub your growing tummy, the aroma making your mouth water.

You were currently twelve weeks pregnant and you’ve thought of ways to tell Bokuto but all ideas that came through your head didn’t seem like enough.

“Hey, honey? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry Bo, what did you say?”

“I was thinking now that we are married, you know, we could maybe start trying for a baby?”His words had you freeze in your spot. 

You weren’t sure if you felt relieved or a bit terrified of being put on the spot.

Almost if he sensed your silence, he turned around with the frying pan in hand starting to mutter apologies for being blunt.

Before he could get any more words out, you interrupted him but didn’t meet his eyes.

“We are pregnant, Bo.” You whispered and closed your eyes as you waited for anything to ease you. 

Instead of being met with his words, you heard the frying pan clatter on the floor.

“What?”

You took a deep breath and prepared to meet his disappointed face but instead, you were met with a teary-eyed Bokuto. 

Quickly, you made your way to your husband and pulled him towards you. 

You sat him down on the chair you were in and you took his large hand in yours to place a kiss on his knuckles before directing his palm to rest on your growing tummy. 

Bokuto’s eyes fluttered shut as he started to fully process it, his large hand on your tummy making you feel happy. 

Once his eyes opened, Bokuto pulled you into his lap and covered your face with sweet kisses while whispering the sweetest words only for your ears.

“Baby, I love you so much! Thank you for making me so damn happy!”

Your heart was full of utter warmth and happiness that you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Hinata Shouyo 

Hinata treated you like a queen. He always wanted to take you to the most beautiful restaurants with a perfect scenery just to see you glow in happiness.

Of course, you mentioned that you were happy with just being cuddled against his warm body at home but he always said that his queen deserves the best.

So that brings you to one of the fanciest restaurants that you have ever been to. 

You felt a bit uncomfortable because of how your fancy clothes clung to your growing belly. Your worried mind raced through different scenarios that you completely missed the waiter asking you what you would like to drink.

“We would like a bottle of wine. Tonight feels like a special night.”

Without thinking you answered, “No, I can’t drink alcohol for nine months. It’s bad for the baby.”

“Nine months? Baby?” Hinata muttered under his breath until it hit him. 

The waiter and Hinata looked at you with wide eyes and it took you a moment to realize what you had said.

“Surprise?” You shyly giggled at their reactions. 

Before you could say anything more, Hinata jumped out of his chair to pull you into his arms.

“Hey everyone, I’m going to be a dad!” The waiter and the people that were sitting near you congratulated the two of you.

Hinata’s hands cupped your face and placed a loving kiss on your lips and thanked you for making him the happiest person in the universe. 

Kozume Kenma

It was Kenma’s birthday and by his request, it was just a day at home. He wanted to spend his special day with the most important person to him in the comfort of your shared home. 

And of course, you could not deny his request.

You planned to make his favorite food while he played a few of his favorite games. 

While you waited for the food to simmer, you pulled out Kenma’s special gift and opened it to make sure everything was perfect for the thousandth time.

Today was the day you were finally going to tell him that you were carrying his child. You didn’t know how much longer you could continue to hide it since your belly was starting to show as each week passed.

You set up the dining table and called Kenma to come to eat with you.

Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw your boyfriend walk into the dining room with a smile on his face.

“Happy Birthday, baby! Before we eat, I do have a really special gift for you.”

With shaky hands, you handed Kenma the gift. You carefully watched his every move as he opened the box in his hands. 

“Player three is coming in 2022?”

He read out loud, clearly confused as he looked up at you.“We are having another person in our relationship?”

Kenma looked like a puppy that’s been kicked as his eyes watered and you panicked.

“Baby, no! Look at the rest of the box.” Your hand caressed his cheek as he pulled out an ultrasound picture from the box. 

Once it hit him, Kenma giggled and pulled you to sit on his lap. He nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck and sighed happily.

“So that’s why you have been wearing my clothes lately. Thank you, baby. I love you so much.” Kenma whispered contently against your neck.

Miya Atsumu 

It was the last set of the game. One more point and your boyfriend’s team would win the team.

It was the last game of the season and Atsumu asked you to come to see him play. 

He wanted to go to the game with you by his side but you had other plans for him. 

Of course, there was no way he didn’t leave the house with a huge pout on his face. So you had to bribe him with cooking his favorite meal when you came home together. 

Almost immediately when he left, your best friend, Osamu’s girlfriend, pulled up to your parking lot, waiting for you to head to Atsumu's big game.

“The poster’s in the back seat, I wrote what you sent in the last text and before you ask, the ultrasound is there too.”

Your nerves grew as you saw your boyfriend prepare to set the last point. You closed your eyes as you tried to calm your nerves.

Once you opened your eyes, you saw that Atsumu was looking right at you and smiled when your eyes met. He immediately hit the ball and scored right away.

When Atsumu scored the winning point, his teammates rushed up to him to celebrate.

Osamu’s girlfriend nudged your side as you both made your way to your boyfriend on the court.

Osamu saw the two of you head closer to the court and he called his twin over, already knowing what was going to happen.

Your body shook with nerves as you turned the poster around to let Atsumu read it.

“Congratulations Dad?”

Shaking his head at his twin, Osamu smacked the back of Atsumu’s head as he pointed to the ultrasound. 

When it clicked in his head, Atsumu dropped himself onto his knees and nuzzled his face onto your baby bump.

“My beautiful prize, thank you.” 

Oikawa Tooru

You knew it wasn’t Oikawa’s fault but who would stay calm when the waiter wouldn’t stop flirting with your husband right in front of you. 

It surely didn’t help that your pregnancy heightened almost all of your emotions.

Oikawa knew you were no longer enjoying the meal when he saw you unintentionally playing with your food.

He tried to talk to you but all he would get was really short answers. He could no longer sit there when he saw you get teary-eyed so he held your hand and walked out of the restaurant after he paid for the meal.

The ride to your shared home was silent, you avoided your husband’s concerned eyes by looking outside the passenger window.

Once you got home, you kept on walking ahead of Oikawa and the feeling of his eyes burning the back of your head riled you so much more.

“Baby, let’s talk. What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“No, I don’t. Baby, you’re acting like a pregnant woman.”

“That’s because I am, you giant idiot.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened at your words as his mouth trembled.

“You what?” 

“You know what I said, you big dummy.”

His arm reached out to you and pulled you into his chest. He placed one of his hands on the nape of your neck while the other rested on your lower back.

“I know, baby. Just wanted to hear you say it again just to make sure that I’m not dreaming.”

“I am carrying your child, Tooru.”

His hold on your body became tighter as you said it again. 

“My dream has become true, thank you.” 

Sawamura Daichi

Nothing about today seemed out of the ordinary, just another casual day where you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand with Daichi.

Every step you took had you feeling sudden happiness that made your eyes tear up.

There were days where you would feel like this but those days were starting to feel like they were happening very often. 

You took the time to not only admire the beautiful park but your boyfriend. 

He seemed very distracted by whatever he was looking at so you followed his gaze and it led you to a playground full of toddlers. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of Daichi unconsciously smiling.

The endearing moment came to an end when a little boy ran up to you with a woman running right behind him.

“Congrats, you have a child in there!” The little boy pointed at your tummy before turning back to the woman who was a few steps away.

Daichi’s eyes were stuck on your stomach while you started recalling the tiniest of things. 

Your hold on Daichi’s hand tightened when you remembered that your period hasn’t come.

Your eyes met your boyfriend’s and it’s as if you both had the same thought.

That’s what led you to this moment, Daichi sitting along with you on the bathroom floor as you wait for the results of three pregnancy tests.

The timer on your phone went off and your heart pounded violently against your chest as you turned the timer off. 

Your boyfriend’s hand reached for yours as if telling you that he’d be by your side regardless of the situation.

His free hand reached for the pregnancy tests sitting beside you and counted to three to see the final results

One…

Two…

And three positive tests that had Daichi’s eyes and yours simultaneously tear up.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours as he cupped your face in the palm of his hands.

“I’ll be here for the two of you, always and forever.”

Tendou Satori

Your husband, Tendou, went out to go buy a couple of things needed at home and medicine since you were feeling a bit under the weather. 

But the thing you didn’t tell him was that you were late. 

One of your friends had come over minutes after Tendou left to give you a few pregnancy tests because you wanted to make sure before you told him anything. 

You couldn’t bear to spend every minute sitting down by the tests so you paced around the bed until your alarm went off. 

Without peeking at the pregnancy tests, you sat down on Tendou’s side of the bed and held his pillow in your arms, his scent instantly calming you.

When you felt ready, you flipped each test around to be met with a bold “Pregnant” on the screen.

You stayed frozen on the bed as you continued to stare at the tests in slight disbelief.

You couldn’t tell how long you stayed frozen but you knew it was a while when your husband walked through the door, rambling.

“Hey, Princess. I found these really cute shoes that couldn’t wait for the future.”

“Princess, what are you- Oh!”

His eyes landed on the positive pregnancy tests and he softly cooed at you. Tendou sat right in front of you and caressed the apple of your cheeks as he whispered sweet words to comfort you.

He gently laid on the bed with you right against him and peppered tiny kisses on your forehead.

“I knew those baby shoes were calling to me for some reason.”

[viridiave]

Daylight Prairie- Creatures of the Light (lore dump)

I've had a couple of theories and headcanons stirring around my head regarding Prairie for a while now- so right here we're gonna tie some of them together cuz I haven't lored in a good long while XD

Note- btw I'm not part of beta so this is purely just me- a crackhead- putting together a crackpot narrative. SOME spoilers for Eden are present.

<THE CEREMONIAL WORSHIPPERS>

okay these guys drive me fucking nuts

We barely know anything about these guys- and what little we do know is derived purely from their closed off uh... Worshipping space. Look at this freaking thing.

In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by clouds for miles. Fairly advanced diamond technology. Altars with graves decked out in gold and candles. The mechanism for the entrance to the elevator to begin with is fairly complex as well- activated by butterflies and the butterflies don't even die in the process. And to top everything off, this place has a portal that leads directly to the Prairie Temple.

If this isn't sus I don't know what is- but I think I have an explanation.

There are six spaces for six more people that we are not aware of. The only people we DO know of is one bald person in the short garb and another bald person in the long garb. I propose that these six missing people are the Whisperers.

Which is... pretty out there, I know. Counting the 'voices' that we get in game, (including the ones from previous Seasons like Lightseekers and Sanctuary) we have one for Birds, Whales, Mantas, Memories, Crabs, and Jellyfish. For now, we're not counting either Butterflies or Krill- and I'll explain why in a bit.

As for the initial proposition that these Whisperers are the missing six, first we need to ask ourselves what exactly it was that the Worshippers were... worshipping. There is a possible god of which we see in game, and the name of this god is the Megabird.

Megabird here was heavily present in concepts, and in the final product we only ever get to see traces of her and heck to this day we're not sure if she's a canon entity in the final game at all. Megabird as an entity in the concepts is basically the god overseeing the world of Sky and is comprised entirely of light. It's unclear whether or not the Ancestors were aware of her existence after or even before the King rose to power. The Elders themselves are likely privy to this information, but somehow I doubt that it's something anyone wanting to assert control over their people would encourage.

There's certainly the possibility that these Worshippers were a religious sect dedicated to the Elders themselves- but since I'm here trying to propose that they're worshipping something tangential to the possible actual god, we're going to assume this isn't the case. On that note-

<THE WORSHIPPERS WERE DEVOUT TO LIGHT ITSELF>

I propose that the Ceremonial Worshippers valued the Light above all else- and this worship was extended towards the light creatures themselves.

'Oi. Vir. Crabs are DARK Creatures.'

Not all of them. Heck, a dark crab might not have been the norm back then, but that's a stretch and besides- the fact is that these crabs on the far end of Sanctuary are docile.

Keep in mind that these followers were stationed in Prairie, of all places. You know what else is in Prairie? Sanctuary Isles- home to several kinds of manta, butterflies, jellyfish, and even the elusive Elder Manta (yes that's what the big chonky boi that looks like a light krill is called- it's not a whale.).  Daylight Prairie is in no shortage of light creatures- and at the center of it all is its Elder.

Prairie Elder is implied to have responsibilities toward the light creatures as presented in the SkyShop poem featuring them:

'Fields of harvest, prairies of joy.

Farmer and fauna as one.

The Elder protects the creatures of light,

For darkened days to come.

Fly up, fly away,

For the Children of Light in need.

We shall recall our days of wonder,

And feel its air once more.'

-SkyShop Poem (Prairie Elder Pin)

In the greater context of the story, Daylight Prairie is the primary source of light energy in the form of the light creatures- it makes sense that the Elder of that realm would oversee the flow of light creatures from one realm to the other, and that the Ancestors in their domain would have a greater respect for the creatures than others. They're the ones working with them, and they're the ones that know them best.

Enter the Worshippers- who were likely serving directly under the Prairie Elder. I'm not confident that the Prairie Elder could have shared information about the Megabird- or if they even know the god existed. 'The Light itself' is pretty vague for something to be worshipped, and it's possible that the Prairie Elder instead encouraged people that the Light manifested itself into the various light creatures that we see.

In this world however- industrialization marches on, and eventually these light creatures became things to be harvested rather than worshipped. It's speculated that light creatures were used in the production of diamonds- we see signs of this scattered throughout Forest, and Wasteland by proxy. The mural under the bridge in Forest and the doors to the Temple seem to suggest as much at least. Eventually, this industrialization will grow out of hand. I have a few theories on what the Prairie Elder might have done to passively rebel against this.

<PRAIRIE ELDER AND THE BUTTERFLIES>

We learn in the Prairie Elder's cutscene that they are able to form- not summon- butterflies from fire. I'm not proposing that the Prairie Elder is single-handedly responsible for the existence of butterflies- rather I'm proposing through the Prairie Elder's abilities that light is able to be manipulated in such a way that one can create light creatures, should they know how.

It could just be the butterflies, honestly. And really it could just be the Prairie Elder that's capable of such a feat- and because of these holes in this theory it's the first to go.

And yes this is the reason why the Butterflies don't count. I think. That has holes too and I can make a case for the Butterfly Charmer technically being part of this... But I digress.

<SANCTUARY ISLES>

Sanctuary Islands could be a literal Sanctuary for the light creatures- there is an impressive variety of them present. It's also very out of the way, tucked away in a corner of Bird's Nest. The theory I'm proposing here is that the Prairie Elder and the Sanctuary Guide worked together to keep this place hidden from the rest of the Kingdom- and that it was the Sanctuary Guide that broke the bells that would have granted the Ancestors access to the light creatures.

<THE WORSHIPPERS DISBANDED>

This is... probably improbable, but my whole post was leading up to this so we're doing this. The missing six Worshippers are the Whisperers that we've encountered throughout the game- leaving in order to either develop their relationship with or protect their creatures of choice.

The Bird Whisperer stayed close and remained in Prairie- and is probably the reason why Bird's Nest exists at all. The Jellyfish Whisperer remained as well, opting to stay in Sanctuary- the natural habitat of the jellyfish.

The Whale Whisperer ventured to Forest- where there probably once was a small population of Whales, given the corpse we see in the Bridge Area and the live Whale in the Underground Cavern.

The Manta Whisperer went to Valley- I'm guessing to see how mantas were being used for labor and competitions? And Valley is right next to Wasteland so I might be reaching but they could have been monitoring that too.

The Crab Whisperer is a tricky one because we see them travelling with the Lightseekers, and yes I am proposing that this lady was formerly a Worshipper. But because we're dealing with a creature that we now know is more dark than light, maybe the Crab Whisperer joined the Lightseekers in order to observe that phenomenon more closely? Because she does refer to the crabs as friends in her SkyShop poem. Wasteland wasn't always a... wasteland, after all. Things could have been different, and the crabs could have been adapting in a time where they would be relatively dangerous but not so much that an Ancestor couldn't approach them.

And then there's the Memory Whisperer. For this one, I don't think a spirit manta actually exists- at least, not as an organic creature and moreso just an interactive holograph courtesy of the machinations of Vault. I'm actually not too sure on what this person could have been doing, but they have a call- and my best guess is that the Memory Whisperer is one who listens to the last vestiges of light leftover by a creature- because we do see skeletons in Vault, and one is of a creature that looks like an amalgamation of several spirit mantas.

<WHY DON'T THE KRILL COUNT?>

As far back as Prophecy, Krill don't appear to be aligned with the light. They aren't depicted as former light creatures, nor a corrupted variant of an elder manta or whale- they are presented as thenselves in that Prophecy mural. Though I'm sure we'll get a Krill call later on, I'm not going to count them until then.

<CONCLUSION...?>

This huge post is... full of holes and heavy speculation, I'm aware. Mostly I just wanted to dump a bunch of shower thoughts and leftover lore I came up in the Discord lore chat. Go check it out sometime, I've derived a few points in this from interacting with people there. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this matter, by the way- it's fun theorizing! I haven't done this seriously in a long while.

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Asahi Azumane || Steeped in Love ☕

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | series m.list (pending) | hq tag | m.lists | main blog ||

His love is like the warmth that seeps into your hands as you cradle a steaming mug, his kiss that very first sip of your favorite blend…

↠ Inspired by my all-consuming love for Asahi, ya know how it be. Prompts taken from this list.

↠ Requested By: No one, technically. ((but my girl @screamin-abt-haikyuu mentioned that Asahi’s tag was looking a bit bony these days so here I am answering the call lol)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluffy-fluff ((but this is still an 18+ blog, my dudes, so minors need to keep away)) ↠ Chronology: Post time skip. ↠ CW for my alluding to Asahi’s dad being a traditionalist prick. I don’t go super into detail here, but suffice it to say he wasn’t exactly thrilled over his son’s ‘softer’ hobbies. It’s a v. brief mention tho, but I thought I’d give y’all a head’s up just in case. ↠ Also no betas—we die like grammatically incorrect men here. ↠ Total WC: ~11.6k ((…I need help…))

Lemon Tea || What are mornings like with them?

↠ As we’ve seen in the anime (i.e. that one scene where Noya’s rude, crackhead early bird ass blinds everyone by throwing open the curtains), Asahi isn’t exactly a morning person.

↠ Absolutely the type to set four alarms, all staggered by five minutes, and starting ten minutes before he actually needs to be up. Dude may hate waking up, but the last lingering vestiges of his social anxiety means that he actually really hates being late for stuff as the potential for being stared at because of it is a big ol’ nope for him.

↠ Luckily for him he can do a fair bit of his work from home if he so chooses.

↠ …personal HC time? Personal HC time.

So we know he becomes a fashion designer, yeah? Well I like to think that he was able to get a fairly decent job straight out of school, but like obvi it was entry level. The fashion house he worked for mostly dealt in eveningwear, specifically gowns, with their sister house focusing more on suits and the like.

Personally he always preferred designing women’s clothing over men’s as there’s just more variety there, but gowns in particular have always held a special place in his heart thanks to his grandmother. She was an opera singer, and while she never received a level of international acclaim, she was p. famous in her home country. As a result of her profession she had a sizable collection of gowns.

Whenever they spent time together—which wasn’t nearly as often as either of them would have liked because she lived in Tokyo—they’d always end up in her massive closet, sat on the cushy chaste lounge with tea and cookies, while she showed him her gowns and told him about the memories connected to each one. He found the intricate stitching, elaborate bead work, fine materials, and flattering cuts to be just as interesting as the stories themselves, a thing that tickled the woman to no end.

Eventually he tried his hand at drawing some mock-ups (because I am 100% convinced that homie can draw, you can try prying this HC from my cold, dead hands but you won’t get far). Sometimes he’d make exact replicas other times original pieces, with his efforts getting better as he got older and more versed in drawing/designing.

And his grandma, god bless her, kept every last one of the sketches that he gave her. Had a special binder with the little plastic sleeves and everything to preserve them. She was one of the kinder, more gentle people in his life, always encouraging his artistic abilities and just generally nurturing him/cheering him on.

She was definitely the first person to encourage him to take up sewing and clothing design as a legitimate hobby in hopes that it would potentially lead to a career. She even went so far as to get him a sewing machine for his birthday one year.

To say his dad was… less than amused by this would be an extreme practice in understatement. Without getting too into the darker aspects of the way I personally canon his childhood, suffice it to say he was forced into sports shortly thereafter. Luckily he actually liked volleyball and had a natural affinity so it wasn’t too traumatic a thing for him.

Looping back around to my original point—he has always loved designing gowns, but everything reaches a point of stagnation. A few years in he starts to get burnt out and restless, but he’s doing well (both monetarily and position-wise) and honestly has no real reason to complain outside of a lack of inspiration—a thing, that for creative types, is akin to torture.

So to make a long story even longer, he starts drawing up designs for menswear on his own time. Not only is it a complete change of pace, but he can be a potential solution instead of complaining about the lack of options. Designs range from formal pieces to streetwear, the latter of which he never paid too much attention to once he graduated.

He’s always been more of button-down, peacoat, Chelsea boot kinda guy, so while he did appreciate the expression of vibrant colors, bold patterns, and baggy cuts it was never his personal aesthetic, yanno? Once he started designing it, however, he kinda fell in love?

This eventually leads to him changing tracks, and that eventually leads to him starting up his own company which leads us to present day.

↠ Why yes that was indeed just my really convoluted way of saying he’s a self-employed designer, thanks for noticing lmfao…

↠ Because of this he can work from home p. much whenever he wants, but he finds that he’s more productive when he’s in a dedicated space. He does have a home office, but… it’s still at home lol. Some days he’s disciplined enough to pull it off, but most days he’d rather just bite the bullet and go in. Plus he thinks it’s better for his employees to have him on site just in case they need him for whatever reason.

↠ On days when he’s going in to work he’s simultaneously draggy and efficient in his movements. He does everything damn near in slow motion, but he somehow manages to get done in a timely manner, like??

Umm, sir, how???

If you don’t have to be awake yet he’ll take care not to disturb you as he goes about his morning routine. Result vary as his coordination is kinda shot for like the first ten or so minutes after waking lol.

If he does wake you he’ll try to lull you back to sleep with gentle hands and shushes, sheepishly promising to make it up to you somehow should you fail to drift back off.

If you never wake in the first place he’ll press a sweet lil kiss to whatever part of you he can reach easily, telling you that he loves you and misses you already and that he’s looking forward to seeing you again when you both get home. He’ll give you one more peck, and after telling you that he hopes you’ll have a good day, he finally takes his leave.

((Uggggh. He’s so precious, somebody stop this man ;n;))

If you have to be up at a similar time he’ll greet you with a quick “Hey sweetie” and a kiss, but don’t expect to get too much conversation out of him until he’s dressed, aka at the end of his routine. It takes his brain that long to boot up enough to offer up a more substantial response than a grunt of acknowledgement lol.

Ofc this doesn’t mean that he’s not listening, and if you have something important to say he’ll do his best to focus and respond, but honestly he’s so out of it when he first wakes up you might as well just wait a bit if you can (or better yet talk to him about it the night before if at all possible).

Definitely has one of those fancy coffee makers with a timer so that he always has a fresh pot hot and at the ready. If you don’t drink coffee he’ll make sure to have your beverage of choice ready for you as well, perfectly made to your preferred specs because he’s thoughtful like that.

Will also make sure that you have a thermos of water to take with you because if his former years of being an athlete has taught him anything it’s that hydration is hella important. He’ll legit scold you if he thinks you’re not drinking enough water or just not taking care of yourself as well as you should be in general, but that’s a HC for another day…

In a similar vein he’s v. much into food prep so he’s usually able to whip  up something simple for breakfast. He prefers to have warm stuff in the morning, regardless of the season, so miso and rice is his go-to, tho if he wants something a bit more refreshing/lighter he’s not opposed to a parfait or maybe a bit of fruit and toast.

Really likes western style breakfast foods too, but can’t be bothered to cook them most mornings. In fact breakfast food are kinda his overall favorite. Because of this you have breakfast for dinner at least a couple of times a month; the style of said breakfast varies based on what you’re both in the mood for.

↠ If he’s working from home the process is p. much the same, just done slower because he’s not as tightly bound to a schedule as he otherwise would be. His day still has structure, naturally, but he’s a bit freer to take it at his own pace.

↠ On days when you can both sleep in tho? Oh. Boy.

Hope you like having 6+ feet and like 200 pounds of man curled around and-or on top of you lmao.

I personally canon him as capping out at 6’3” because I am a giant ~heaux~ for tall, beefy men, but that’s beside the point. Asahi’s a big boy that can dwarf most people, at least in height (and really everything else too, like have you seen him?? He’s so broad I wanna climb him ;n;)—that’s it, that’s the point I’m trying to make here.

He’s also p. clingy when sleepy. In fact I see him as being v. touchy with his s/o in general. Not exactly clingy in his waking hours per se, but rather just very physically affectionate. It’s one of the main ways he expresses his love, but like only with those extremely close to him.

It’ll probably surprise you how touchy he gets once you get deeper into your relationship, as he was always v. careful to be respectful when it came to touch at the start of things. Back then he was always so worried about making you uncomfortable—blame the phantom whispers of ‘He’s so intimidating!’ and the like that still curled around in his head—but if you’re at the point where you’re sharing a bed he’s obviously over that bit.

He’s what we in the business like to call a ‘strong cuddler’, meaning that once he’s got your ass in his kung-fu action grip you’re gonna be hard pressed to get out. If you do manage to escape he’s gonna try to pull you back in, so uhh, you might want to move fast lmao. If he can’t find you he’s gonna whine until you either give in and join him or he knocks back out.

He’s one of those people that can sleep for like twelve hours straight if given the opportunity, so sleeping in until noon isn’t unheard of. The thing is tho, he has no real reason for it. Like yeah, occasionally his work’ll keep him awake well past his bedtime, but for the most part he keeps decent hours.

He’s just one of those people that can sleep a lot ig, but at the same time doesn’t actually need to?? So long as he gets at least six hours he’s good. It’s weird, he’s weird, but he cute so we’ll let it ride.

↠ He loves to cook with you just as much as he loves to cook for you, so whenever y’all get up he’ll insist on making breakfast.

He’ll rarely if ever leave the task up to you alone, not because he thinks you’re incompetent, but because cooking’s one of those things that he equates with a really gentle and caring form of love.

His mom was a housewife, and as such she always made sure that her family was well fed. She always told Asahi that every dish was made with love, and he believed her; he could almost swear that he could feel all of the care and adoration that she had for them in each bite.

And so now he sees food as yet another way to share his feelings with you. It’s a v. subtle a thing, one that you probably won’t even know the full depth of unless you ask him about it (which I really have to insist on because seeing him with his cheeks glowing as he explains it to you is a sight that you need in your life, trust me).

Basically it allows for him to express his care in a way that doesn’t come off as being ‘too much’ or smothering—impressions that he still worries about giving off from time to time.

If you’re really insistent on being the sole chef that day just turn it on him. Tell him that you want to be the one to look after him today and he’ll fold like a gd accordion lol. Just be prepared to have him watching your every move like some love-sick thing. He’ll give you the gooiest look from where he has his head propped up against his palm, mouth set in a sweet lil smile and his cheeks lightly flushed and ahhhh~

((I am S A W F T for this man, do you hear me??))

However breakfast shakes out, you’ll end up eating it in bed. Is this a good idea? Eh… I mean, there has been a spill or two, but who’s counting? Asahi certainly thinks that the comfort and excellent company make up for any messes that may occur.

You’ll be talking about everything and nothing, with the conversation flowing easy thanks to how well you’ve come to know each other. Seeing him so comfortable and carefree is just so lovely, like yes bby, thrive, if anyone deserves it, it���s you!! ((I’m just really out here flashing my simp card hard tonight, huh?))

If you don’t have any plans for the day he’ll totally advocate for spending a bit more time in bed…

…What you do or do not get up to will be left up to your imagination/discretion lol.

If you’re just chilling he’ll be up for chatting more or you can pull up a show on your laptop or even browse through your socials on your phone; he’s not too picky so long as he gets to cuddle you. This’ll go on until you’re either both out again or the day demands its due.

↠ Overall mornings with Asahi are simple affairs filled with a quiet affection that will linger throughout the day, regardless of if he’s around to actively share it with you or not.

Peppermint Tea || What do they get excited about?

↠ Personally I don’t see Asahi as being an overly excitable person. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t get hyped over stuff, but rather that it’s rarely a super overt showing. Naturally there are things that can pull a super visceral reaction for him, but if were talking just like regular-degular excitement he’s more on the low-key side.

↠ Usually the easiest way to tell that he’s super into something is the fact that he won’t stop talking about it. It’s a subconscious thing, and if he actually realizes that he’s doing it he’ll stop immediately as he doesn’t want to bore and-or annoy people. ((As if his rambling isn’t one of the cutest things ever, smh…))

↠ Unsurprisingly he talks about you a fair bit lol. That’s the one topic that he’ll go on about at length with no real qualms. After all, you are one of the most interesting people he knows, and others should have the pleasure of knowing you, even if it’s just through his words.

↠ Aside from your relationship he’s still got a love for volleyball so that’s a thing that’ll get him going.

Definitely has season passes, and is an ardent supporter of MSBY as well as the Adlers. He refuses to pick a side as each team hosts his former teammates and friends and are thusly both deserving of his love and support lol.

Tho he would love to see every game live that obviously isn’t a realistic possibility so he settles for recording them instead. Will avoid all forms of social media until he watches said recordings so as not to have anything spoiled for him.

Regardless of if it’s live or not, he’d love it for you to watch it with him. If you’re just not interested he gets that, it’s not everyone’s thing, but if you are prepare to get a crash course in Volleyball 101 from Asahi Azumane, former Ace lol.

If you’re watching a recording he’ll be pause it as often as he needs to, to explain things or answer any questions you may have. Same goes for a live game, sans pausing, ofc. You would think that this would cut into his enjoyment, but it actually adds to it. He’s so happy that you’re willing to share one of his greatest passions with him, and more than a little proud to be the one to teach you about it.

But if you’re already and avid and well-learned fan? Bruh. He’ll legit spend hours talking about the intricacies of the sport as well as debating you on various topics concerning the game/players.

…may or may not get a little weak in the knees if he hears you talking volleyball with your friends because wow, my baby’s so into this, and so knowledgeable too! It’s so cute, you’re so cute, and he’s so cute too, I honestly cannot…

↠ Other than that he’s more people focused, so he gets really excited for the things that those closest to him are excited about.

The new season from that series you love about to drop? Hells yeah, go on a tangent about the thing and take him with you, pls lol.

Suga’s class all passed their latest test and he’s all smiles because of it which means Asahi is likewise beaming when he tells you about it. He’s so damn proud that you’d swear they were his students.

Hinata just posted a pic on his Insta about something that’s got him hype and Best Boy’s among the first to comment, matching his fervor with a flurry of emojis and an abundance of exclamation points.

I’ve said it before, but dude’s hella in tune with the emotions of those around him, and if said emotions are positive he has a habit of parroting them. With most that would have the potential of seeming disingenuous/annoying, but with him it’s so apparent that he’s genuinely happy that it doesn’t come off that way at all.

↠ Now as far as fashion goes, while he is passionate about it, it isn’t really something he talks about too often unless something really strikes his fancy. By his estimation that’s a hair too close to shoptalk, and he’d rather leave that type of stuff for work hours. Ofc if you want to gab about it he’s more than willing; talking about it doesn’t bother him or stress him out or anything like that, it’s just not something that he’ll go on about on his own, yanno?

Chamomile Tea || What is their sleep schedule like? Does it change around their s/o?

↠ I kinda touched on this in my first answer, but for the sake of the prompt…

↠ Aside from his ability to sleep for disturbingly long times, it’s pretty standard. This is due in large part to his work hours being set. Providing a project doesn’t require him to work through the night, he’ll be in bed no later than midnight; as he doesn’t usually wake until eight am that gives him a full night’s rest.

↠ He may not be an early bird, but he’s not really a night owl either. He’s not super big on late nights as they tend to throw off his sleep schedule which only makes mornings harder on him.

↠ Your sleep schedule doesn’t affect his too much as he goes to sleep late-ish anyway. That said, he hates the thought of leaving you awake all alone, so if you’re pulling an all-nighter for whatever reason he’s gonna stay up with you. The occasional late night doesn’t bother him, but if this becomes a regular thing you’ll start to see the wear-n-tear fairly quickly.

↠ If you are prone to staying up all night, he’s gonna look into helping with that regardless of the reason. Sleep’s super important to your health, so if something’s messing with that—be it an asshole boss and-or co-workers piling more on you than what’s fair or insomnia or whatever else—he’s gonna try to find a way to lessen the strain.

Earl Grey Tea || How did they court their s/o?

↠ He kinda doesn’t??

↠ If you’ve read my Love You Like I Do series, you’re well aware of the fact that in my… lore? I guess we’ll call it?? But yeah, in that things between the two of you start off rough. You just unnerve him so much, casting away all of his hard earned calm with even the most innocuous of actions. This leads to him avoiding you when he can, tripping over his words (and actual objects) when he can’t lmao.

↠ Eventually he gets ahold of himself enough to pursue a friendship with you, with things progressing from there until he’s finally blurting out a confession at you—and I do mean at you because this was in no way planned nor were either of you prepared for it.

The pair of you are just chilling out, yanno laughing and just sharing the space, when he looks over at you and thinks, They’re perfect. They’re prefect I can’t do this anymore.

The first half of that thought is common enough as he’s been down bad from jump, but not even he is entirely sure what his brain means by that second part—well not until his lips start moving without his permission that is lmao.

He word vomits months, possibly even years’ worth of repressed adoration at a speed that you can barely even comprehend. What you do manage to catch is that fact that he doesn’t think that he “–can be your friend anymore” and that leaves your heart dropping into your stomach.

Your dread and sorrow must be showing on your face because now he’s apologizing for burdening you with his feelings, and you’re trying to reassure him through your own pain that’s it’s okay and if he wants to part ways he shouldn’t feel bad about that, and then he’s all like–

? ? ?

!!!

On the one hand he’s relieved that you’re not rejecting him yet, but on the other you look like you’re on the verge of tears and this is not how he wanted this to go, at all, but he’s here now and he’s gotta make it right. And so he steels himself with a deep breath before gathering up your hands into his own and trying again.

The contact is unexpected as this is hardly a thing someone who’s trying to end a friendship would do, plus there’s the whole ‘he rarely if ever touches you casually let alone like this’ bit. But you’re too confused (and low-key shook) to do much besides go with it, so you just hold on to him as tightly as he’s holding you and listen.

By the time he’s laid out the whole of his feelings your eyes are glassy for another reason entirely. You’ve been feelin’ him for a long time now, maybe even as long as he’s been down for you, so to suddenly find that your feelings are not only reciprocated (a thing that you suspected but were never entirely sure of) but can now manifest themselves in the form of a relationship??

I think it’s fair to say at that point that you have ascended lol.

Asahi definitely sheds a few tears himself once you agree to be his, and if you cry as well it’s gonna turn into a full on feels-fest. But as I said in my other HC, if you want to reset him just give him a smooch. It doesn’t have to be anything too involved—hell, it doesn’t even have to be on the mouth. Just press your lips to his forehead or even just the back of his hand and watch him bluescreen lmao.

He’ll flush a vibrant shade of red from scalp to sole, all the while stuttering and trying to hide his face away in anything that’ll cover him lol. It’s cute af, but try to resist the urge to tease him too much or he might legit combust.

↠ So yeah, you guys never really have a traditional courting phase as you just kinda shifted your friendship over into something heavier.

↠ Still, friendship with this man is a very tender thing that’ll leave you fantasizing about a romantic relationship more often than not. So maybe the whole of your friendship was a courtship? Idk man. He’s just so attentive, always making sure that you’re well taken care of and looked after to the point that people would often mistake you for a couple, a thing that never failed to make him blush even as he (reluctantly) corrected them.

↠ Once you’re together he’ll curse himself for the first little bit over his own hesitation. Had he just bucked up he could’ve had you like this sooner, but ‘spilled milk’ and all that noise. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the past for too long, and why would he when he’s got a hundred thousand happy tomorrows ahead of him with you at his side?

Milk Tea || What are their kisses like?

↠ At the start of things they’re always sweet, short, and chaste.

He doesn’t want to come off too strong, doesn’t want to risk spooking you with all of the pent up passion he’s been harboring for so long. Even after finding that you’ve felt the same way for an extended period as well, he’s just… He’s still v. cautious.

Though he’s gone on more than a few dates, they rarely ever progressed beyond that. There were a few promising candidates, people that he could call his partner even, but it never lasted past the three month mark. Ofc he was sad over this, but never overly so. Even with as much as he liked those people they never endeared themselves to him in the way that you have. You’re the first person he’s been able to see a future with so he’ll be damned if he does something to scare you away now.

So yeah, be prepared to endure a lot of pecks that won’t really lead to much for the first little bit.

↠ Once he gets more comfortable, however…

Asahi’s got one of those kisses that’ll steal your breath away—not because it’s really hard or intense, but rather because it’s so reverent.

It’s like he trying to pour every ounce of his affection and adoration out of himself and into you with the meeting of your lips. He’s so purposeful in his movements, kissing you slow, deep, and so, so thoroughly that your mind won’t be able to comprehend anything outside of the little bubble that you’ve created for yourselves.

Given how tall he is things can get a bit awkward, but once he gets use to any height difference that may be there neither of you will really notice it at all.

But! One very good thing that is left over from that brief phase is his tendency to cradle your head while you kiss.

Big boy’s got big hands, but they’re always so gentle whenever they touch you. He holds you like you’re something infinitely precious and delicate, with one hand palming the back of your head and the other either pulling you in by your waist or cradling your cheek. It’s so soft and sweet, I swear you’ll never feel more loved than when he’s holding you like this 😭

Oh, oh!! Another thing he does is to tilt your head up towards him so that he can kiss you and it’s very sexy of him. Like he’ll just curl two fingers under your chin and urge your face upwards, a smirk tugging at his lips because he knows how this shit hits.

And don’t let his cinnamon roll persona fool you—dude can be a gd tease when he wants to be, so instead of kissing you right away he’ll just hover there for a bit, maybe grace you with a few feather-light brushes of his baby-soft lips before finally putting it on you proper.

Ugggggh. He’s a menace I tell you, an absolute menace that must be stopped.

↠ And once he reaches maximum comfort, well…

Dude’ll legit just pick you up and plop you in his lap for a makeout session lmao.

He will swear up and down it’s just for the good of his back—apparently all that slouching isn’t ‘good for his spine’—but we know better 😏

He’ll be blushing like mad like 70% of the time, but he’ll kiss you breathless before you can tease him about it.

Certainly gets a lot more hands-y at this stage, but this is a good, wholesome prompt list so I’ll just leave it at that for now lol…

↠ So in conclusion, Asahi’s a very methodical and purposeful kisser that will never fail to leave your lungs devoid of air and your tummy full up on butterflies.

Coffee || Do they get jealous easily? How do they show it?

↠ He’s not the jealous type at all. The way he sees it, if you’re together then you’re together. He respects you immensely and trusts you completely; he knows that neither of you will ever do anything to jeopardize your relationship so there’s really nothing to be jealous of.

↠ He’ll always assume the best about you, and while it may make his heart seize a bit if he sees something that looks sussy, he’ll always give you the benefit of the doubt.

↠ That said he doesn’t take too kindly to people flirting with you.

It’s one thing if they honestly don’t know that you’re together, but once that’s been made clear (or if the person already knew beforehand), whew chile. It, uhh… it’s not pretty lol.

He’s not possessive nor is he one to pick fights but he has no problems with finishing them if need be.

Luckily for all parties involved it never actually gets that far because, well, look at him. Imo he’s not an overly intimidating guy; like yeah, he runs a bit bigger than average, but his gentle and genial nature balances that out.

Still.

When he wants to turn it on he most certainly can, and it’s kinda terrifying, ngl. He knows how people perceive him, and while he usually does everything in his power to be as nonthreatening as possible this is one of the few occasions that will see him leaning into every stereotype and label he’s ever been saddled with.

He won’t do anything super overt straight off the bat, but rather he’ll shift his posture to be more pronounced, rolling his shoulders back as he straightens up into his (extremely impressive) full height. He’ll also wrap an arm around your shoulders or take your hand to further cement the point that you’re already happily taken, thank you; he may even pull you fully into his side if he thinks the other person to be too close.

Being a working adult has forced him to get somewhat comfortable with eye contact, and when he’s agitated he finds that he has no problems with staring a mf down; those pretty chocolate eyes will pin the offender in place with the irritation/displeasure that flickers around just below their surface. It is… not something that any sane person would want directed at them, is all I’m saying.

This has always been enough to get people to back off, which is good because he honestly isn’t sure if he’s got hands or not lmao. Even when he was a kid he was bigger than average so nobody ever wanted any smoke, and it’s not like he went around looking for trouble so he’s never actually had to fight. If pushed he’s fairly certain that he’d be able to hold his own, but tbh he hopes he never has to find out.

Rosehip Tea || How romantic are they? How do they show affection?

↠ Ah yes, the love language question—my favorite! And it’s under my favorite tea blend too? Clearly it’s providence lol.

↠ Anyways!

↠ How romantic is Asahi?

↠ So romantic.

Kind of a traditionalist in this way. Blame his grams and all the Old Hollywood movies she showed him when he was as a kid because he certainly does. There’s a certain quaintness to the way they portrayed romance, one that he’s always wanted to recreate after a fashion with his special someone. So now that he’s got you expect to be wooed like a starlet of old lmao.

Every inch the gentleman, he’ll open and hold doors, pull out chairs, will even legit lay his jacket over a puddle if the need arises lol. He also vibes hard with that whole ‘candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach’ beat. It should feel cheesy af, but he’s just so heart-achingly sincere that you don’t have it in you to be anything but charmed by his actions and utterly smitten with the man himself.

He really loves making memories with you, but even with as close as he holds each and every one, this cradling cannot stop the dulling touch of time. Memories will inevitably fade, that’s just a part of the curse of being, but there are ways to counter that. To that end expect to take tons of pictures to document your adventures.

He’s p. good at photography (a side effect of his work; before he could afford to hire a professional he had to take his own photos for his shop’s site), and he always manages to capture both you and your surroundings at the best angle and in the most flattering light. He’s able to strike a good balance with it too, taking enough pictures to fully capture everything, but not being so glued to his phone/camera that it ruins the vibes.

In a similar vein he likes having things that are specific to the pair of you as a couple; lots of inside jokes and matching items, etc. You guys are 100% the couple that unintentionally puts on complimentary outfits. Like you’re not even trying, you’re just so in tune with one another that it just happens sometimes. Whenever it does out comes the camera so that you can rub your cuteness in the internet’s face via some Couple’s Goals posts lmao.

He also never forgets an anniversary/your birthday/any other important dates, and if he cannot do something with you on the actual day trust and believe that he’ll make up for it as soon as your schedules will allow for it.

↠ Now as far as love languages go, quality time is probably chief-most among them for him.

This man will pamper and spoil you rotten if you let him. That said he’s more opt to shower you in time and affection than gifts. The latter low-key makes him feel like he’s trying to buy your love which ofc you both know isn’t true, but it still leaves him feeling some kind of way. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t still buy you things, but that it’s not his go-to.

For him it’s the time spent and memories made that are most precious, and they’re made all the more so due to the responsibilities that so often keep you apart. Being an adult is a real time-suck, but that which he has to share he gives to you freely. He wants you to monopolize his time in the same way he’s so greedy for yours.

But don’t think that any of this means that he’ll be under you 24/7. In an ideal world you could stay hugged up for all eternity, but sadly that’s not realistic. Even with as much as he adores spending time with you he knows that you both need space on occasion, and he’s more than willing to grant you that.

It’s not uncommon for you two to part ways after breakfast and not come back together until bedtime. On days like that he’s kinda gonna be all over you once you settle in for the night—if you’ll allow it, of course. He’s gonna pull you into his broad chest, hands following the line of your spine as he listens to you recount your day. Please take advantage of your extremely privileged position and play with this man’s glorious mane as he does this—it’s what you both deserve lol.

Regardless of your usual sleeping position, you’ll definitely drift off like this—breathing in tandem and wrapped up in each other’s arms—and if Asahi’s strong ass grip has anything to say about it you’ll stay that way until sunup lol.

What?? He’s gotta make up for all the time he spent not cuddling you that day, it’s only right, right? Lol…

↠ Aside from time spent he is, as I established earlier, very touchy-feely.

Again, he’s not clingy, just tactile.

He prefers to be in contact with you in some type of way, even if that’s just your shoulders and knees brushing up against each other while you chill out on the couch.

He’s not super big on grand showings of PDA, but he’s got no problems with holding hands, wrapping an arm around you, or even sharing a sweet little peck every now and again if it’s appropriate.

When you’re in the privacy and comfort of your own home, however, he’s a lot bolder. He’s a big fan of pulling you into a back hug and peppering you with kisses all over your shoulders, neck, and face until you’re reduced to a breathless mess—whether or not this is due to you giggling to the point where you’re out of air or him stealing it from your lungs with a searing kiss really just depends on the mood.

He isn’t above spinning you around or otherwise sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you around like the royal you are to him because he’s so wonderfully cliché like that lol.

Also—tickle wars. If you hate being tickled he’ll refrain, but if you’re down be ready for a tear soaked battle because dude is relentless. He’ll push his height advantage for all it’s worth, keeping you pinned with those long ass legs of his and holding you at arm’s length so you can’t get back at him as he absolutely lays into your sides, your tummy, the bends of your knees, hell even the palms of your hands. It’s all free real estate to him lmao.

On the opposite end of all of this, if you’re like me and get overwhelmed by too much touch he’s totally willing to tone it down. Your comfort is paramount, so if you need him to ease up or fall back completely he will. He’s more than content to just share the space with you if that’s what you want/need.

↠ And lastly he’s very reaffirming.

You never have to worry about where you stand with Asahi because he always makes sure to tell you just how much you mean to him and how much he cherishes what you’ve built together every day.

He’s always the first person to cheer you on, the biggest supporter of all your endeavors and dreams; he never fails to elevate your mood beyond what you thought to be possible before meeting him.

If you’re feeling down he’ll whisper sweet words of encouragement in your ear, reminding you of the wonderful person that you are and all that you’ve accomplished. He knows what it’s like to feel the icy coil of responsibility cinching itself around your neck; has shouldered the weight of others’ judgement; has fought wars within himself, against himself. No matter what it is you’re facing, he won’t let you go through it alone. The shadows will never win, not so long as you’ve got Asahi at your back.

Also compliments—lots and lots of compliments lol.

It’s p. much a compulsion for him, he physically cannot stop himself from telling you every little thing he loves about you. Like he’ll just look at you and think, Oh wow, my baby looks good today. Like really, really good. Gods, they’re so gorgeous… Except oops! He didn’t actually think that, he said it, and now you’re grinning and-or blushing, and you’re gonna tease him about this for the rest of the day, aren’t you?

And now he’s blushing because you’re saying that he looks just as good, better even—which, uhh, no, have you seen yourself?? You’re perfection incarnate in his eyes, and you’re gonna acknowledge it; meanwhile you’re on the other side saying the same thing.

You’re both very ‘fight me about it’ which leads to a compliment war that you’re probably gonna lose because he can think of well over a dozen things that you’ve done just in the last hour alone to rave over lmao.

It basically becomes a test of wills at that point as you both keep going at it until one of you breaks. If he starts to get too flustered, Asahi is not afraid to cheat—and by that I mean he’ll shut you up with a kiss lol. He refuses to be the only one reduced to a flushed, stammering mess and if they only way to put you into a similar state is an impromptu makeout session then so be it.

((p. sure it’s gotta be illegal for one man to be this cute, and if it’s not it should be because this shit is legit dangerous.))

Black Tea || What do they look for in a person?

↠ Kindness, above all else.

↠ Having experienced not nearly enough of it in his own life—while still showing it to others unconditionally, btw—he absolutely cannot stand to be around angry, mean-spirited people in any capacity. People like that make him equal parts nervous and irritated. Ofc being angry on occasion is fine/normal, but if that seems to be the person’s default state and-or they’re cruel then that’s a big no for him.

↠ He also likes people that are grounded in themselves, as it helps him to be more stable as well. This isn’t to say his partner has to be on top of things 24/7, but he really does prefer—need, really—for them to have a decent handle on things. He’s more than willing to help them get there, but if they’re too up and down and aren’t looking to get better that’ll end things quickly. Given his own nature, he can’t stand by and watch a person that he cares about willingly self-destruct, yanno?

↠ Authenticity is also a big thing for him. Working in the fashion world, he’s v. much accustomed to the masks that most people don for various reasons. It’s all a part of the game, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. That type of two-faced ish just does not fly with him in his personal life. He wants to see every aspect of his partner, from the lovely to the outright ugly; it may not always be the easiest thing to look at, but at least it’s real.

↠ Those are the only three musts that I can think of; everything else is a preference.

He really loves to travel, so he’d like someone who’s down for that.

He’s also pretty active, in fact he’s found that he actually values exercising more now that he’s no longer an athlete (sitting slouched over his designs all day is killer on his back) so having a gym buddy would be ideal, but again isn’t a deal breaker.

As a creative type himself, he oftentimes finds himself drawn to similarly inclined people. The medium doesn’t matter to him overmuch nor does skill level; hobbyists to professionals to just followers/enthusiasts, he likes it all.

Assertive people kinda do things to him lol. He’s not a fan of bullies or pushy people (he’s already got enough of the latter in his life, you know how his friends can be), but like… Driven people who not only know what they want, but don’t hesitate to do what they need to to make it happen? Hells yeah.

↠ Being as accepting and kind as he is, Asahi can find something to like in just about every personality type so don’t be afraid to shoot your shot! That said, you’re gonna fair better if you get to know him a bit before trying.

He’s not exactly opposed to being asked out by strangers, but it does unnerve him a bit because we don’t really know each other? What can you have possibly seen in me that made you want this?? It’s a confidence boost, sure, a nice stroke to his ego, but… Having no real footing in a situation makes him nervous.

Plus past experiences have taught him it’s better to be friends before considering something more, but we’ll get into that more later in the list.

Luckily at this point he’s better at speaking his mind, so if you propose a straight up date he’ll ask if you’re opposed to turning it into something more informal so that you can get to know each other. If you’re insistent on the date that’ll be an instant turn-off—again, he’s not a fan of pushy people, and you’re not respecting his boundaries besides which is a major red flag for him. If you can’t respect his wishes on this then he knows that not even a friendship would pan out well, let alone something more.

↠ As far as appearances go, I’m sure he has his preferences, but he’s not one to discount someone because of their looks. He knows that there’s so much more to a person than the physical and that appearances can be all too deceiving. He has functioning eyes, so yes there are some people that will catch said eyes easier than others, but that’s not his main drive, yanno?

He does like well-dressed people, as he tends to dress rather smartly himself and having someone that can complement that would be nice, but again that isn’t at all necessary. If y’all are vibing like that he’s definitely the type to take those really aesthetic OOTD couples pictures for the gram, you know the kind. They always leave his followers wondering how he got them to look so effortlessly good/natural. It’s either a nuanced combination of filters or straight up witchcraft—the jury’s still out on which it is lmao…

He also likes people that have a distinct sense of style, kind of like a signature. Doesn’t matter what said style is, he’ll appreciate it regardless—it’s the designer in him lol.

But at the same time he likes it when you switch it up on him; if you can rock some vampire goth shit on one day and then a pastel punk vibe the next or like idk, combine some hella random styles together and make ‘em work he’ll be so into it (he may also offer you a job lmao).

↠ So yeah, for him the biggest things are being kind, being grounded, and being yourself.

Pomegranate Tea || At what point did they know they loved their s/o?

↠ Asahi is the kinda person that falls in love by degrees. Lots of little moments shared and memories made and inside jokes cultivated just keep building up and up and up, and before he knows it his little crush has turned into something far deeper than he ever expected it to.

↠ The moment it hits him will probably be fairly innocuous.

You’ll just be doing something random together and your face will do the thing—that one really cute, really you-specific thing that never fails to leave his heart clenching before beating at a rabbit’s pace.

A small, fond smile will pull at his lips as he continues to watch you, while a feeling of something warm and content washes over the whole of him. This has been happening with increasing frequency these past few months, though as it hasn’t been negatively affecting him he never really gave it too much thought.

He likes this feeling—no, he loves it. He loves the way that it’s never too far behind when you’re around, loves that it colors virtually every interaction that you share–

He loves you.

He has no idea how or when this happened, but as he thinks back on things he realizes that it was inevitable. You’re just so… everything, how could he not fall?

You’ll probably notice the moment that he puts the pieces together, though you won’t know what it is that has him doing his peerless impersonation of a tomato. Luckily for him, random bouts of blushing are common enough that you don’t really pester him for an explanation, which really just makes him love you more tbh lol.

↠ Buuuut unfortunately for you both he won’t be doing anything about his newly realized love for you for a long while yet. So you’ll both be pining in silence because you don’t want to spook one another—fuckin’ dorks, lmao.

↠ But eventually it’s all gonna spill over into the scenario that I mentioned before—well, unless you decide to take the initiative and confess yourself. He won’t be put off by this at all, btw (remember what I said about his liking assertive people) tho he’ll still be flustered af, but that’s p. much a given, all things considered…

Matcha Tea || How and when do they propose to their s/o?

↠ Well first he’ll make sure that you actually want to get married.

↠ While he himself is definitely the marrying kind, it isn’t a deal breaker for him. At the end of the day that’s just a piece of paper that cannot add or take away from your love’s value, so if you’re not down for that, that’s fine by him.

↠ But if you are into it, then he’s more than willing to oblige.

↠ The ‘when’ aspect will be more so determined by you. Once he’s sure you’re ready, he’ll ask—doesn’t matter if that’s after only six months of dating or two years. Probably won’t come before the six month mark tho; gotta make sure you’re both compatible and in things for the long haul.

↠ As for the how, it’ll probably be p. cutesy.

He’ll pick an activity that’s very specific and significant to you as a couple and spring it on you at some point during it.

Not overly fond of public proposals as he doesn’t like the pressure aspect. He knows that he wouldn’t appreciate being put on the spot like that, so he’d never do it to you. Besides this is v. personal moment, one that should be shared by the pair of you alone, and he doesn’t want a bunch of randoms getting in on that.

Also not a fan of putting rings in food. Just—no. At best it’s unnecessarily messy, at worst you’re making a trip to the ER or dentist because the ring got swallowed or a tooth got chipped, and yeah, no. Those aren’t exactly the type of memories he wants associated with the event that’s meant to mark the start of the next chapter of your lives together lol…

Chai Tea || How do they spice up their relationship?

↠ I know I’m about to date myself here, and not in the fun ‘Take yourself out for lunch and a spa day, buy yourself a bouquet’ kinda way lol.

But anyways, the first thing I thought about when I read this was Zatarain’s old tag line: Jazz it up with Zatarain’s! which then made me think about that one commercial for their low sodium products. I know that’s (probably??) an American-specific reference from forever ago, but whatever lmao. Actually they may still use it? Idk, I haven’t seen one of their commercials in years.

((I would apologize for subjecting you all to my weird ass thought processes, but if I have to suffer through it, so do you. Think of it as the price of admission lmao))

↠ But anyways!

↠ When things start to feel stagnant, Asahi will opt to take you somewhere new.

Traveling abroad is preferred, but not always feasible, so when forced he’ll settle for something local. Tho it should be said that his definition of ‘local’ is broad af lol. If you’ve both got the time p. much anywhere in Japan’s fair game.

He loves finding little off-path spots—a little pop-up boutique, hidden ramen houses that only the regulars seem to know about, an antique shop that is a relic and in of itself, corners of parks that have been all but reclaimed by nature, etc. He doesn’t mind hitting up trendier places as well, but he usually finds that they rarely live up to the hype in most cases, even if they are v. nice.

Really his main thing is spending time with you; he wants to reconnect, to stoke your shared fire until it’s once again blistering with that white-hot heat that he loves to feel consuming all of him.

↠ If you don’t feel like painting the town or don’t really have the time to he’ll find little ways to bring back the spark right there at home.

This mostly involves him doing a lot of little things that’ll pull up those old, happy memories from your favorite trips. For most familiarity isn’t synonymous with spice, but with Asahi it’s those reminders of the love and care that you have for one another that leave him wanting more. Knowing someone that intimately is a special and rare thing, and he’s so happy, honored, and honestly humbled to have all of that with you.

He’ll special order a box of that one tea blend that you tried in India, some truffles from that overly friendly chocolatier you met in Paris (that looked oddly familiar, now that he thinks about it), a bottle of that Tuscan white you’d raved over last time you where there…

He wants to remind you of the good times you shared while also promising you that there will be plenty more to be had in the future as well.

Hibiscus Tea || What’s their favorite place to take their s/o?

↠ Probably the first place you ever traveled to together because he’s a giant sentimental floofball like that lol.

He’ll even go so far as to try to get you the same room every time, and he’ll also want to hit up some of the same restaurants and attractions if only to see if they’ve changed since last you been there.

But aside from the room thing (that he only insists on because he thinks it’s a super cute tradition) he’s not looking to recreate that trip step for step. He wants to experience everything this world has to offer with you, and he cannot do that if his mind’s constantly stuck in the past, yanno?

Green Tea || How do they comfort their s/o?

↠ This really depends on your personality. He doesn’t want to add to your stress by doing something you don’t like so if you’re the kind that needs space he’ll give it to you. If you want to be smothered in cuddles he’s down for that too. At the end of the day it’s your comfort that he’s most concerned with so he’ll go with your flow.

↠ That said, his go-to is to relax you by degrees.

↠ The first order of business will be to get you into the bath.

A nice soak can help to alleviate any physical discomfort you may be feeling as well as to relax your mind a bit. He’ll join you if you want, but he’s just as fine with sitting beside the tub and sharing the space or even leaving you be entirely.

If you do want him to stay he’ll be as hands on as you want. He’ll tend to your hair and even help you wash up if you need it. He’s also down to chat, but unless you bring up whatever it is that’s troubling you he’ll avoid the subject for now. The way he sees it, you’re still too close to the problem and poking at it now will only serve to upset you more. Once you’ve relaxed some you’ll be able to tackle the problem with a calm and clear head.

Once you’re done with that he’s gonna dry you off and then help you moisturize because dry skin is not fun lol. This may or may not turn into a massage, it really just depends on what it is that you want.

↠ Comfortable clothes are a must, obvi.

Whatever it is you’re most comfy in is what he’s gonna have laid out for you, and if that just so happens to be one of his shirts or any other piece of his wardrobe he’s more than willing to share. Like most guys he’s got a thing about seeing you in his clothes, but that’s neither here nor there.

↠ After that he’s either gonna tuck you into bed or burrito you on the couch while he gets some food together.

Even if you’re not in the mood to eat for whatever reason he’ll still insist that you at least nibble on something. Adding low blood sugar to the mix will only ever make things worse, trust him—he knows. (Hangry Asahi do be kinda terrifying, ngl lol.)

He’ll entice you with your favorites, be that something homemade or take-out. If it’s the latter he’ll have already placed the order, but if it’s something that he needs to make he’ll get on it as soon as you’re settled. If you’re not keen on being left alone he gets that; he’s more than willing to let you glomb on to him while he tends to the food, and is more than willing to let you help if you’re that way inclined.

He still won’t bring up what it is that’s eating at you yet, though you ofc are free to at any time. If you’re not ready to talk he’ll put something mindless on—be that something on the television or some music or whatever else—and just chill with you. Conversation will be provided if you’re up for it, but he’s more than willing to sit in the hush with you if that’s what you need.

↠ It’s only when you’re properly relaxed and fed that he’ll ask if you’re ready to talk.

He’ll let you vent all you need, though aside from the occasional hum he’ll be pretty quiet throughout. This is because he’s taking in what you’re saying in its entirety so that he can examine it from various angles; he wants to be able to provide a proper response as well as good advice should you ask for the latter.

But of course he knows that advice isn’t always wanted or needed, so if it’s just a sounding board that you’re looking for he’s happy to lend an ear.

↠ By the time Asahi’s done with you, you’ll be feeling much better, physically as well as mentally. Even if you’re not back at 100% by your sessions end, he’ll keep at it—being whatever you need, however you need it, for as long as you need it.

Russian Caravan Tea || How experienced are they with relationships?

↠ Not overly.

↠ Like I said before, he has been in a few relationships, but they never got too deep. Don’t get me wrong, he genuinely liked those people, but… It just never panned out. The romantic in him likes to think this is because the universe has shipped the pair of you from jump, but the realist in him knows that those breakups were rooted in some pretty heavy things.

Half of it was due to insecurity/a lack of confidence on his part, while the other half came from unhealthy expectations from his partners.

Thinking back on things now he sees that he wasn’t exactly ready to be dating at that point in his life. He was still growing, still had a lot of personal issues that needed working on and it wasn’t exactly fair to either of them for him to pull others into that.

But at the same time once that was made clear to his partners they could have given him a bit more grace. Some legitimately tried for a bit, while others were less understanding—in the end none of them could understand why he couldn’t ‘just get over it.’

And even that he kinda feels responsible for to a degree. He always glossed over his issues, quick to downplay the effect of his trauma—a habit he initially picked up for self-preservation reasons, tho it did him no good in the long run—so he could see why they would think that it would be easy to move past.

But honestly it wouldn’t take much more than a glance to see that there was far more to things than what he made them out to be; that they either couldn’t see that, or pointedly chose to look away says a lot and none of it is good.

This is why he never really mourned those relationships. Yes, the breakups hurt at the time, but subconsciously he knew that they weren’t what was best for him.

↠ Lessons learned taught him to be more… Not exactly cautious, but more selective about who he lets into his life in that capacity. This is why he’s so insistent on being friends first. This isn’t to say that you have to be super-ultra besties before he’ll consider dating you, but he does have to trust you to hold his hand before he’ll let you cradle his heart.

English Breakfast Tea || Would they want a family?

↠ As far as he’s concerned you’re already a family, but if you’re looking to bring kids into the mix… I can see him going either way on this. Children aren’t something that he’s dead set on having, but he’s also not at all against the idea.

↠ Expanding your family would be just one more expression of your shared love, and he’s all for that. So if you want kids, he’s very much down.

In fact I can see him getting way into the idea if you’re super jazzed about it. Like you really think he’s fit to be the father of your children? Him? As in Asahi Azumane? Really??

He gets way into his feelings over it, but like in a good way lol. Will definitely be an excellent dad; he’s kind and understanding and has so, so much love to give (plus his piggyback rides are god-tier lmao). No kid could ever ask for anything more.

↠ But like I said, this isn’t a must for him, so if you’re like me and kids aren’t your thing he’s more than understanding. Fur-babies are just as good, as are plant children, or no surrogates at all.

↠ Like I said before, you’re his family, his heart, his whole gd world—he doesn’t need anything else outside of that, but he’s always more than willing to add to the love.

Rooibos Tea || What’s their favorite thing to do with their s/o?

↠ Traveling, hands down.

↠ Between wistfully daydreaming about his grandmother’s travels and the few trips he’s taken with Noya, dude’s totally caught the bug.

↠ It doesn’t matter if you’re just going to that nice restaurant that recently opened up downtown or to the other end of the world—he wants to see everything this blue marble has to offer, and he wants to do it with you by his side.

↠ Domestic stuff is cool, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say that he prefers to go abroad.

Luckily for him his work allows for him to travel a fair bit. This is… less than ideal if you cannot accompany him as he doesn’t like to be away from you for long stretches of time. Still, he’s a big boy and understands that you have your own responsibilities to tend to, so he won’t make a big deal out of it.

…but he maaay offer you a job lmao. He won’t try and pressure you into it or anything like that, in fact the idea probably won’t leave the confines of his mind unless you’re currently in between jobs or if it’s obvious that things at your current gig aren’t working out. The offer will be casually made at first, with him only going into detail if you actually show some interest.

Ofc he’s heard the horror stories about couples having problems and even breaking up due to their working together, but he doubts that’ll be a thing with the pair of you. Besides he’s been in need of a PA for a long time, but he hasn’t been able to find one that he vibes with, a thing that obviously won’t be a problem with you. Tho if you have the skills and want to do something else he’s totally okay with that too! As much as he’d love to keep you close, working with him directly isn’t a must.

((Personally I’d take the PA position as the job’s pretty low effort because Asahi likes to do most things himself, and what little you would actually have to do would be stuff that you’d do for him regardless. But it’s your life boo-boo, you do you.))

Working arrangements aside, if you can go with him then by all means do! You’ll both be happier for it, I assure you lol. He’ll spend whatever free time he has wandering around the city with you and finding cool things to do; lots of shopping, trying out the local cuisine, and just generally having a fun time. And thanks to his anxiety-induced preparedness you’ll never have to worry about getting lost as dude has like 5 apps and a literal paper map to aid you lmao.

He also always makes sure that you have enough coin that you’re able to enjoy yourselves without worry about curbing your spending. Travel is such an essential part of his life that he factors it into his budgeting accordingly.

↠ Ofc it isn’t just work trips that he’ll take you on. Whenever you both have the time off and the want, he’ll be all to ready to book it to wherever.

Totally the type to toss a dart at a map to pick your next destination, but that’s about as spontaneous as it gets lol. He’s gonna do his research to make sure the place is actually fit to visit/what to do should you really decide to go there/the best place to stay/etc.

It doesn’t matter where you end up, exploring’s always gonna be one of his most favorite things to do while traveling.

Like I said before, he really enjoys finding hidden spots, but when he’s abroad he’s a sucker for tourist traps (i.e. landmarks, monuments, notable restaurants, etc.)

He always makes sure to get something to memorialize your trips. Pictures are a given, naturally, but he also likes having other physical reminders. These can range from a little trinket like a keychain to a whole ass painting ((umm, where is your chill, sir? lmao)). He loves the way he can transport himself back to those precious moments by just looking at the items you’ve collected over the course of your travels.

↠ Also—stargazing.

This is one of his favorite things to do with you in general, and he always tries to squeeze it into your itinerary whenever possible.

With the night sky being so expansive and varied it’s always fun to try to spot the difference between what’s currently above you and the celestial landscape you’re more accustomed to back home.

He rarely brings along a star map so you’re probably not going to be able to make much out unless astronomy is your thing. Either way, the pair of you always end up making up your own constellations at some point, complete with the dramatic backstories that seem to come standard with the things lol.

He’s definitely drawn and framed a few of your favorites from these sessions, and they’re hanging in your home as well as his office.

((bury my soft ass with my own HCs lol))

↠ At the end of it all it doesn’t matter to him whether your dancing under the pale moonlight in your living room or basking under the night sky’s glow in a city far away from home—so long as he can hold you close enough to count the stars in those beautiful eyes of yours he’s content.

↠ Because his favorite place to be will always and forever be the space between your loving arms.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[refinedbuffoonery]

Broken Like Me (1)

masterlist.

THIS FIC IS NOT INTENDED FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Please see the masterlist for content warnings. 

Here it is, the long-awaited dark!MacRiley AU! First, I want to thank my lovely beta readers and my life-saving brainstorming/workshop buddy. You all know who you are. ❤

This fic adheres to canon through 5x05 and then goes off the fucking rails. Backstory and other important tidbits of information revealed in the latter half of season 5 may be used, but timeline-wise anything after 5x05 does not exist in this fic. Also, Jack is dead and is staying dead, so don’t get your hopes up for a happy ending. 

I will do my best to update this regularly, but hanging out in and writing such dark headspaces is HARD. I will definitely be taking breaks to write fluffier fic, because a big chunk of this story is all hurt and no comfort. 

Without further adieu, let’s get this party started. (It’s not a party. In fact, it’s like...the opposite of a party.) 

*****

They say he was a good man. 

A good soldier. 

A good father. 

A good friend. 

They say they are sorry for her loss, sorry he was taken from this world too soon. 

They say Jack would be proud of the legacy he left behind, would be proud to have gone out in a blaze of glory. 

Riley is sick of it. 

It’s like she’s a teenager, and Jack is leaving her all over again. Only this time it’s worse. This time there’s no coming back. 

The guests at the wake gaze at the folded up American flag on the fireplace mantle with deep respect, but Riley only feels anger every time she glimpses the piece of fabric the government sent back in his place. A flag and a life insurance claim feel like a mockery of the kind of man Jack Dalton was. 

Was. Past tense. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

*****

Mac has never been afraid of Riley before. 

He’s seen her angry and upset, but the rage-filled woman he stopped from killing Anya Vitez with her bare hands back in Croatia is someone he does not know. 

The frightening part is that Riley isn’t a hot-headed person. In work mode, she is cold and calculating, so for her to go after Vitez like that...something inside her snapped. 

Three weeks have passed since then, and every time he looks at Riley, Mac remembers holding her back, fingers digging sharply into her waist until she stopped fighting him. He sees the fury radiating off Riley’s body like heat waves off asphalt—sees the way she clings to it, finds purpose in it, letting it consume her so there’s no room for guilt or grief. Mac knows the feeling all too well. And he also knows there will be a very loud thud when she finally comes crashing back down. 

But he also knows that the woman is like a loaded gun, safety off and desperate to fire at something. 

Which is why he worries when Matty calls them in for an op and Riley isn’t there. She’s at Vitez’s trial, Matty informs them, but that doesn’t make Mac feel any better. Whenever there’s downtime during the mission, and Mac’s mind is free to wander, he can't stop thinking about her. This new Riley is becoming obsessively vengeful, and if someone doesn’t reel her back in soon, she might do something she can’t come back from.

The thought plagues Mac every second there aren’t bullets whizzing toward his head. 

After the op, Mac drives to Riley’s apartment. Upon arrival, his ears are assaulted by Riley’s upstairs neighbor blasting Macklemore’s greatest hits. Mac hears the lyrics clear as day, even though both his truck windows and the apartment windows are closed. 

Riley really shouldn’t have moved out of Mac’s house, not if this is her best option. He still doesn’t understand why she did. 

It doesn’t take long to notice the GTO is missing. Riley should be back from the trial by now, but Mac has a sneaking suspicion where she is. 

The drive to Jack’s apartment seems to take forever. The brick building is in an older neighborhood, one of few affordable ones with trees planted along the sidewalks—a luxury in LA. Sure enough, the GTO is parked on the curb, not far from the fire escape that connects to Jack’s living room.

Looking up, Mac spies a familiar body perched on the stairs. 

Riley sits on the fire escape, soaking in the last rays of sunlight. Her eyes are closed, head resting against the brick wall. Mac doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the narrow metal stairs, their hips and thighs just touching. 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug her? Hold her hand? Leave her alone? Riley isn’t a super touchy person. Mac decides on the latter, picking at his fingernails while his gaze drifts west to study the sunset. 

Several minutes pass before Riley says, “Hey.” Her voice is low and scratchy, like she’s been crying. 

“Hey,” Mac repeats. “How long have you been here?” 

Riley shifts beside him, sitting up. “I don’t know. A while.” 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, is it?” 

A sigh. “No, it’s not.” Mac figures as much. Aside from the constant clamor of the city, Jack’s apartment is relatively quiet. It’s not in the greatest neighborhood, but it’s safe enough for Riley to sit alone and think. Or not think. Whatever she feels like doing. 

Riley rests her head on Mac’s shoulder, and a wave of protectiveness floods his system. It’s new, this need to watch her back more than the others’. It came on so gradually that Mac doesn’t know when it started or what triggered it, only that he feels it all the time now. Especially after Jack’s…

He avoids examining the feeling too closely. 

Without warning, Riley says, “If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed her.” 

Knowing exactly who she was talking about, Mac glances down at Riley in surprise. He knows it’s true—thinks so himself—but hearing it come out of her mouth makes his stomach turn. The last, and only, time Riley killed someone...it took her months to piece herself back together afterward. And that death was in self-defense. 

This one would’ve been murder. Intentional and vindictive. 

Mac isn’t sure Riley could come back from that, at least not as herself. The woman who would emerge from that would be a total stranger inside his best friend’s body. Mac suppresses a shiver. “I know,” he says.

“Thank you for stopping me.” Riley’s voice is quiet. So, so quiet. 

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Gingerly, Mac wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulders, ready to let go at the first sign of her discomfort. When she doesn’t react, he relaxes and holds her more surely. 

The sky is painted in vibrant oranges and reds, fading into deep blue overhead. Subtle strokes of pink outline the scattered clouds hanging above the horizon. Out of all the sunsets Mac has seen, all over the world, nothing quite compares to the ones here at home. He wishes Jack was here to see it. 

Mac spends far too long debating whether to bring it up before asking, “Why did you go to the trial?” Agents, especially secret ones, don’t go to trials, mostly to keep their identities safe. Publicly tying oneself to a case is never a good idea, for more reasons that Mac can begin to name. 

“I swore I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” Mac tries not to bristle at the snarling, defensive edge to Riley’s tone. “Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, and I will be there when she does. And then I’m going to rip out her entire organization from the roots up.” 

Fear wraps its ugly hand around Mac’s heart. Until every single person associated with Tiberius Kovac is behind bars, there will be a target on Riley’s back, and Riley will have put it there herself. Losing one person to Kovac is more than enough; Mac refuses to lose Riley too. 

“How can I help you?” 

Riley looks up, eyes wide like she’s expecting him to try to talk her out of it, not offer to help. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And miss out on all the fun?” Mac almost smiles as he quotes her. Almost. 

She sits up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m going to hack Interpol first, to see which of her colleagues might also be dirty. So unless you secretly picked up hacking…” 

Mac huffs. “Sorry, I only hack hardware.” He expects some insane, crackhead plan, not something so…reasonable. Maybe Riley isn’t as off-the-rails as he thought. 

But only maybe. 

A seagull perches on the railing below them, honking and squawking for seemingly no reason at all. Gulls are just like that. It glares at Mac, pinning him to his spot with a beady yellow eye, challenging Mac to shoo it away. 

Go find some tourists to harass, Mac wants to snark at it. Leave us alone. 

The seagull cocks its head, as if to say, I know something you don’t. 

Mac narrows his eyes. I bet you do. 

He swears the seagull shrugs before taking off, flying low over the GTO before sailing over rooftops on its way back to the ocean. It passes a billboard advertising a new blockbuster spy thriller, the product of millions of dollars and Hollywood plot recycling. Mac saw the trailer. The movie is about a soldier who joined the CIA in a quest for retribution after his best friend came home in a box. Usually Mac likes watching spy movies—mostly to make fun of them—but this one hits a little too close to home. 

It takes a monumental effort to tear his gaze away. 

When his eyes finally meet Riley’s, Mac understands the silent ache in them—the ache that’s surely reflected in his own eyes. He and Riley are drowning, but at least they’re drowning together. 

Mac frowns. That must be the dimmest “on the bright side” thought he’s ever had. 

Riley doesn’t say anything more, so neither does Mac. They sit on the fire escape until long after the sun sets and the temperature drops, and the city's nightlife stretches its limbs as it wakes. Mac shivers, but Riley seems oddly unaffected by the cold. That or she’s too numb to notice. 

He threads his still semi-warm fingers through her icy ones, letting their joined hands rest on his knee. It seems like his last tether to the Riley he knows and loves, one who’s slowly slipping away from him and being replaced by a woman who might very well bring the world to its knees as payback for all that it’s done to her. 

Mac has no interest in ever meeting that woman. Mostly because he refuses to lose his Riley, but also because Mac knows he won’t be able to resist that other Riley. She will slash his restraint beyond repair, and Mac will follow her to the ends of the earth. 

He will find a way to keep them both afloat. He has to. 

Or else the Phoenix may very well be hunting him and Riley again, and this time, they’ll deserve it.

*****

Entering her apartment later that night, Riley realizes too late that it isn’t empty. Bozer is still there, and he’s making dinner. Locking the door behind her, she hears a rushed, “Got to go, Matty. She’s home.” 

Bozer crashed on her couch the night they got the news and never left. I don't want you to be alone, Bozer keeps saying, despite her insistence she doesn’t need a babysitter. Other than that, they don’t speak to each other much. In fact, Riley wouldn't have noticed he said anything at all if not for the way he stares at her, standing at the stove and twirling a wooden spoon between his fingers. 

"What?" she snaps. 

Carefully, Bozer asks, "How was the trial?" 

"Fine." Riley knows he cares, and that he’s hurting too, but nothing he says or does is going to help her. The sooner he figures that out the better. She drops her keys and jacket on a chair before heading for her bedroom. 

“You hungry?” he calls after her. 

Riley yanks off her boots, chucking them into the closet with too much force. “No.” 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

Her fuse is running short these days, and she’s just about had it with his incessant smothering and questioning. Riley marches into the kitchen, rolling her shoulders back and bracing her hands on the counter. “Last I checked, I still have a mother, so if you’re just going to keep nagging me, then I think it’s time you get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

Bozer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, but no sound comes out. 

“Get out,” Riley snarls. 

Still struggling to regain his ability to speak, Bozer stammers, “At least let me finish making you dinner first.” 

“Fine.” Cracking her knuckles, Riley retreats to her bedroom once more. “I’m taking a shower. You better be gone when I come out.” She doesn’t wait for a response. 

When Riley emerges, her dinner is cold, and Bozer is long gone. 

She doesn’t eat.

*****

On the second day of Vitez’s trial, Riley sits in the back of the room long after the trial adjourns for the day, thinking. She didn’t recognize the witnesses who testified today, and as the prosecutor called each one forward, Riley wished she had her laptop so she could look them up. Now, as she stares over the rows of empty wooden seats to the section where the jury sat, Riley can only hope that the witnesses’ testimonies are enough. 

Riley knows there’s more than enough evidence to convict Vitez—especially since she recorded the confession herself—but obsessing over the trial is easier than facing the reality waiting outside the courthouse doors. 

Her mom invited her to visit his grave today, after the trial, but Riley declined. Facing that slab of granite will make it real, make it…permanent. 

She knows what it says. Jack Dalton. Beloved. Gone too soon. Someone asked for her approval before it was made. It doesn’t say nearly enough to encapsulate all that he was, but at the time Riley couldn’t think about it—couldn’t look at it—long enough to suggest any changes. She still can’t. 

Chewing her lip, Riley anxiously toys with her rings, spinning them and moving them from finger to finger. 

At the wake, one of his old Delta buddies joked that the gravestone should read “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers,” but Riley didn’t laugh. 

Riley hasn’t laughed since Matty broke the news. It’s like the part of her that knows how to feel joy died in that explosion too. 

Instead, she wants to scream at the universe until her voice gives out, cursing it for taking her dad away too soon. Because that’s what he is. Her dad. Riley doesn’t even know when she started calling him that again, but if she has to guess, it was sometime between the first “I’m proud of you, honey” and him kicking her ass at skee-ball for the millionth time.

Tears leak from Riley’s eyes without her consent. 

It feels like she failed him, in a way. By not being there. By not keeping him alive. 

Now the best she can do is make sure his death means something. 

Vitez will go to prison for the rest of her life, that Riley is sure of. But the rest of her organization is still out there, and Riley intends on putting every single member behind bars. No amount of justice will even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart, but at least the world will be better for it. Safer. 

But she’d rather live in a more dangerous world with him still in it than a safer one without. That way they could save the world together, like they always did. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Anger rumbles through her body, like a Texas thunderstorm in her veins. It’s the only emotion Riley feels anymore, ever since the sadness gave way to numbness. 

A woman in a security uniform pokes her head in the room. “Excuse me, ma’am. I need to lock up for the night.” When Riley doesn’t respond, the woman adds, “Are you okay?” 

Are you okay? Riley hates that question more than all the others. How are you? Have you eaten today? What can I do to help? 

She feels like she’s dying. She can’t eat. Nothing will help. 

But that isn’t what people want to hear. Even Mac asked that last question, yesterday on the fire escape, although Riley didn’t automatically despise the question like she usually did. It’s different coming from him than anyone else; his offer was genuine, not coming from pity or obligation.

She isn’t surprised Mac recognized her need to do something. After all, he had been the same way after his dad was killed. 

Coldly, Riley finally says,“I will be.” The woman doesn’t deserve her abrupt answer, but Riley can’t quite bring herself to care. She lets the anger the questions bring up fuel her, lets it hold her together. 

The anger is all she has left. 

Riley stands, her heels clicking on the floor as she exits the courthouse. 

She’s coming for all the monsters who hurt him. She’s coming for the ones who rendered him nothing more than ashes on the wind, the ones who turned her life into a nightmare she can’t wake up from. 

Because she doesn’t need to wake up to become theirs.

~

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Send me an ask.

[drabbles-of-writing]

I'm approaching 28 hours late on my final assignment, a 4-5 page essay and I'm *this* close to tears. Please, I (Wheeze Anon) beg of you, dump a bunch of beta!au stuff for this hapless fool who thought the scam of university was worth time, effort, and emotions? --Wheezy

I TOLD you to get your beta fill BEFORE your assignments and now your DEYHYDRATED smh. that said

Luz would never call herself a sappy type but once she saw Amity genuinely laughing and having a fun time and MAN if she didn’t feel like a guy from those older movies taking off his hat and holding it shyly in front of him w a lovestruck staring look. That was the first time she realized Oh This Is Going To Be A Problem.

Only Luz would dare to be partners with Willow in science class. Willow often experiments w her plants, random shit, and blows something up. Luckily for her. Luz also blows things up often. Their science teacher hates them but fears these 2 crackheads as well so she can’t do much.

Amity, kicking in Willow’s door: okay your a plant person you would know. do love potions come from plants and can smelling them cause its effects Willow, without skipping a beat: yes and yes. though it depends on the species. why, is Boscha planning to use one? Amity: oh she tried that shit like 4 months ago. pretty sure she still has some of it in her garage. im asking bc I’m fairly certain Luz, the bitch, gave me one Willow: Willow: theres a LOT to unpack here

Gus is always babey and TERRIFIED of his friends but he eventually realized they would literally rather eat their fingers than fistfight him which basically means he can say n do whatever he wants bc Willow wouldn’t let anything touch him. he proceeds to grab Luz and tell her “hey you wanna beat up Matt” and she doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

Amity has a new nickname for King every week. Her most popular one is “a shaved squirrel on crack” and Luz. she loves the guy, but Amity do have a point

[angstyclowns]

Can I also request shoji, Denki, and Bakugou(all alphas and separate) comforting their very disturbed and angry and sad omega because their beta brother/sister got jealous and destroyed her nest? 🥺🥺

I got so excited for this ask I may have skipped a few- 

Alpha! Mezo Shoji, Denki Kaminari and Katsuki Bakugo x Sad! Omega! reader

Mezo Shoji

He, at first, would be so confused as why you were so... so angry.

It would almost scare him. 

Immediately would pull you into his arms- giving you your ‘cocoon’ of solitude.

Your whines were slowly quelled as he purred lowly into your ear, smiling softly as you pulled his mask down, nuzzling into his cheek.

He would wait until you’ve calmed down to ask, even if it seems he wouldn’t have to.

“Why don’t we go to your nest-”

He would nearly die when you started crying again.

“My nest- it was destroyed while I was in the bathroom! My stupid brother destroyed it. It’s gone!”

Shoji had to stop himself from growling and stalking off to kill your brother, that would only serve to make you more upset.  He did instead, place you on his bed before walking to his closet, pulling out the most blankets and pillows you’ve ever seen in your life.

He set them down on the ground, gesturing for you to do what you wanted. 

You squealed as you went to work, arranging and rearranging the pillows and blankets in whatever order you wanted. 

When you finally finished , you looked up at your alpha with puppy eyes and a pout on your lips. 

Shouji didn’t even need to be told once before he was already crawling into your nest with you, wrapping you in his arms and watching as you fell into a blissful sleep.

Denki Kaminari

 Denki was used to you in one of two moods.

Three A.M. crackhead 

OR

Your normal peachy self.

He didn’t like this suddenly angry omega he now had on his hands. 

He watched as you kicked anything in your path angrily, growling as your scent turned burnt.

“Hey, princess, what’s wrong?”

“My stupid older sister destroyed my nest! Just because I have an alpha and she doesn’t?! Where does she get off?!”

He rolled his eyes, pulling onto his lap as he purred loudly, listening intently as you ranted and raved

And whether you knew it or not, you slowly began to calm down, your own purrs soon escaping you, quiet and barely noticeable at first until they’re nearly as loud and boisterous as Denki’s 

“Now, how about you and I go rebuild that nest of yours and have a nice movie date?”

“Okay, but be noted I might kill my sister if she shows up.

Katsuki Bakugo

You didn’t find Katsuki, he found you.

You were curled up on his bed, whimpering all the while.

His alpha nearly killed him then and there.

Of course, he had no idea what he did wrong, but he knew he had to fix it somehow. 

So he went out to the nearest pharmacy bought out their chocolate supply and hurried back.

He plopped it all onto the bed and let out a loud purr to try and get your attention.

You looked up with tear filled eyes before letting out a pitiful giggle.

“’Suki, I’m not upset with you.’

That simple sentence was like music to his ears ,but the problem was still there. His omega was still upset.

“Then who made you upset? I’ll pummel the fucknut!” 

“It’s not that bad, Katsuki. My older brother destroyed my nest today because mom yelled at him.”

You slowly reached out to grab his hand, pulling him down to cuddle with you. 

“You can kill him later, but right now I need my alpha.”

[milkacchan]

Request for @bnhakaminari : Hi! How are you? May I please request Bakusquad x Omega!Reader headcanons? Maybe she's like their only omega? 🥺 It doesn't have to be female pronouns if you don't want! Also, I'm sorry if this request is weird! Thank you so so much and I hope you have a nice day/night!

Idk if you wanted poly so I did poly bc I physically can not resist poly

And it's not weird bc I really do love me some omegaverse.

Mayhaps I'll do a part 2 nsfw

• Baby GURL you're the only omega

• And thank god you are their omega

• Because all of them are Alphas

• Which can be hard to deal with

• Bevause while theyre friends, really good friends, they're still Alphas and that can get messy sometimes

• None of them are particularly aggressive with their instincts but if we have to list it it'd go

1. Bakugou

2. Mina

3. Kirishima

4. Denki

5. Sero

• In order for them to be genuinely aggressive it has to be deep rut or someone is trying to hurt their omega

• But tensions can get high since it's a bunch if alphas together all the time, they can but heads

• You're drawn to Sero and Mina first

• Sero's just really calm and down to earth and he's funny

• He's easy to be around and he smells /great/

• Its just strong enough to be calming but not overwhelming

• Mina kinda just started bothering you when you transferred in because you were pretty and you were a girl.

• Actually, Mina saw you when she was with Sero and she was like, 'that one. I want that one.'

• And Sero was immediately on board like yes we want thay one

• Your room is right next to hers

• This ends in her just being an annoying neighbor but you don't really mind because its mina and how could you not love her

• Then without really anything being said you're integrated into the Bakusquad and it's great

• Kirishima is bubbly and smiley

• Denki is just happy theres another girl

• and you're pretty so win

• Bakugou seems a little skeptic at first- unsure of where this is going but he's civil and quickly warms up to you

• Its unspoken that they take on a protective role

• Someone's giving you shit? At least one of them are there to back you up. Most of the time its Bakugou. It doesn't matter where in the room he is, he's by your side in seconds to ward off whatever BS the person in front of

• You're feeling sad? They're all there cuddling you so you feel better. They turn your ass into a burrito.

• Denki is already pulling out the memes

• You're super excited about something? They listen as you ramble warm smiles on their faces

• They'll play with your hair, massage your scalp until your purring against it

• They have a way with you and it's obvious to everyone around them

• They are MAGIC at calming you down

• If you're upset or frustrated at a training exercise, they each have their own ways to help.

• Kiri is a softer alpha in general. Along with Sero they were both raised in house holds where they were taught being an Alpha doesnt excuse being aggressive or wreckless.

• Seros mother was a beta

• Kirishimas mother was an Alpha who was raised with Betas.

• Kiri is often holding your hand in public if you get anxious

• Or letting you lean against him when you're tired or upset

• Most people think the two of you are established but you're not

• Sero absolutely gives you his jacket if you get cold

• Minas super cuddly and touchy all the time regardless of why so more often than not she's clinging to you

• That is if she's not busy making googoo eyes at you

• Need a laugh?

• Need a laugh so hard you're wheezing and struggling to breathe?

• Five minutes. That's all the time Denki needs.

• Crackheads tm

• What's even better is when yall get together when you're both sleep deprived

• It concerns the rest of the group

• and they're curious as to why you two are curled up on the floor laughing so hard you're crying over a picture of CHEESE

• But that's what happening

• Bakugous way of showing he diesnt hate you rn is

1. Buying you food occasionally

2. Helping you train

3. Offering to study with you

• But he can be really soft too

• Like that one time you just weren't having a good day and he carried you mid breakdown to your room

• You had your legs wrapped around his waist, face buried in the back of his neck as your arms were wrapped tightly around his chest

• Being the only omega in the group, they dote on you even before they ask to offically court you

• Oh you wanted that food? A few dollars short? Dont worry baby Bakugous got you

• You want to listen to a song? Kaminari "Everyone shut the FUCK up so she can hear," Denki

• You want attention? You genuinely dont even have to ask they know

• AS I SAID BEFORE THEY WILL PLAY WITH YOUR HAIR AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE

• ESPECIALLY UNTIL YOU'RE PURRING

• S c e n t i n g

• You realize they all pretty much smell the same as a result of scenting

• And the omega definitely comes out when they scent you (even before courtship)

• They take turns scenting you

• Each time your eyes flutter close and your grip their shirt as your cheeks burn

• But it's so nice

• And you've never really been scented

• And you're leaning into the touch, Keening at them, just completely content with your place

• And they're fawning over it

• They love it

• Thus enters this weird phase where yall might be a thing but theres no offical courting

• but theres hands and scenting and you're pretty sure Mina almost kissed you the other day

• Its a lil confusing but thays okay

• When I say you're unaware that the four Alphas are a thing

• I mean you're obliviously unaware

• You just thought they were affectionate friends

• Because some friendships are very affectionate

• And then, they ALL bring you small courting gifts and

• At the same time

• And it clicks

• Fuck they're all wearing necklaces

• THE SAME NECKLACE

• Oh

• Oh

• OH

• "You want me to be everyone's omega,"

"If you're okay with it, and you like all of us, then yes."

• and obviously you're okay with it

• who wouldn't be.

• Its 10/10 lemme tell you

• you help ease tension sometimes

• Using your own pheromones or gentle touches just like they do w you

• They have uncovered another way of calming you down

• Food.

• "She's mad again," Denki whines

"Give her an apple or sumn,"

"No, you dumb bitch. Chocolate,"

"Why don't we just take her out to eat??"

"BINGO."

• They steal kisses whenever they can

• and I mean

• WHENEVER

• Onviously if youre not okay w PDA they'll lean of that ut other than that your lips are not safe

• When you go through your first heat with them, it KILLS them.

• The top floor is used for omegas when they go into heats

• Which isnt super often because if suppressants (which most omegas take,) but sometimes the suppressants get salt

• Alpha ruts are contained to their own dorms, they don't have a separate floor

• But anyway, your suppressants wear off :)

• And they learn that your heats are particularly painful

• Because they can smell the distress and frustration in the fucking stairwell

• And they /cant/ help and it /sucks/ because they want to help /so bad/

• Expect lots of kisses and hugs and cuddles when your heat is over

• And Denki crying because he missed you

• And Eijirou holding your waist as you lean against his chest

• Listen just expect a lot of affection and love in general

• Lots of touches and kisses

• Lots of sharing scented clothes too

• They'll scent just about anything you ask them too, not questions asked

• And they melt when they see you using whatever it is

• They're best alphas tm

[spaced-out-imagines]

Finger Guns (Sero x reader)

Warnings: none!

If you like my stuff you can buy me a ko-fi here!

A/n: this idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while and I decided to finally sit down and write it. Thank you to @beatific-drabbles​ for being the beta reader for this oneshot. I hope you enjoy!

“So are we going to do anything or…?” you had asked Sero. You were currently sprawled on his bed, most of your body on the actual mattress while your head was dangling off the edge. You scrolled through social media on your phone as you gazed at him from your upside-down position.

Sero shrugged, sitting in his hammock as he also scrolled through his phone. “I don’t know, I’m pretty content with doing this,” he replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes. “This is why old people always say our generation needs to get off our screens,” you said. There was no malice behind your words though and Sero could easily tell you were joking.

“Yeah well, why should we listen to them in the first place when they call us a bunch of things with no proof to back it up.” 

You looked away from your phone, now gazing at him instead. You paused for a moment, processing his words. “Touché,” you said before going back to your phone, “That was actually a little wise, Sero.”

“You say that as if I don’t say intelligent stuff often!” he exclaimed. His voice raised in pitch dramatically and he put a hand over his heart.

“Hmmm I don’t know, most of the time you can be a bit of a crackhead.” You snickered, he sputtered a little. You knew he wasn’t actually offended, though. The two of you had this type of banter all the time, he was just playing up his reaction to make you laugh.

You both went back to scrolling through your phones. Content to just listening to the music he had put on in the background. It was just a peaceful, relaxing moment between the two of you. And you enjoyed every second of it.

After scrolling through your timeline for a little while longer you came across a photo that piqued your interest. It was a meme post, the first line of text read “my crush: what do you mean that person was flirting with me I think I would notice if someone was flirting with me”. Meanwhile, the second line said “my pining ass who’s been flirting with them for weeks:” and under that was the picture of the plush monkey giving the camera the side-eye. 

You chuckled in amusement, causing Sero to look at you with a raised brow. “Whatcha laughing at?” he asked.

“Just this meme I found randomly. Here I’ll send it to you,” you replied. You immediately clicked the share icon and selected his username. It sent and there was a second of silence before you heard Sero let out a snort when he opened the post. “That’s too relatable, man. I feel for this person.”

“Oh yeah? So does that mean you like someone and you’ve flirted with them?” Sero asked. His eyes twinkled slightly with amusement and you felt your heartbeat a little faster at the sight. If you weren’t so attracted to him you would punch him for being so oblivious. 

You had been subtly flirting with him for weeks, ever since you decided to try and make your feelings known. It had taken a lot of persuasion from Mina, since you didn’t want to mess up the friendship between you two. But ultimately you decided to take the plunge. Alas, it yielded nothing as Sero was too dense to put the pieces together and it made you want to bang your head into a wall.

You acted without thinking, too caught up in the joking mood, as you shifted your phone in your hand. This allowed you to send finger guns his way as you said, “Yeah I like you, dude.”

Sero shot some finger guns of his own at you, that playful grin still on his face. “Oh, sweet cause I like you too.”

“Awesome,” you replied. The two of you went back to your phones for a second before you fully processed what each other said. 

“Wait, what??” the two of you said in unison as you looked at each other with wide eyes. 

He put his phone down and got up from the hammock. “You like me?” he asked. Sero began to walk towards you and you matched his actions, the two of you meeting in the middle of the room.

“That’s my line Sero! I’ve been flirting with you for weeks and you didn’t even seem to notice.” You reached out and took one of his hands in your own. You intertwined your fingers, half expecting him to pull away, but instead he just gave you a small smile.

“Sorry I guess I’m more oblivious than I thought,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours.

You huffed, “You don’t say?”

This caused him to laugh a little and you grinned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. In return, he hugged you around your waist. The both of you stood there for a minute, just basking in the physical contact. “So what now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Now…” Sero replied, “I think I should take you out on a date.”

“I think I would like that Hanta.”