#each choice has a branch that takes us on a fun trip

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 12 ✨🚀

[2.9k words, 10min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure Jisung x Fem. Reader - SFW/Smut in Other Chapters - Navigating Feelings, Platonic(?) Intimacy, Surprisingly Sweet, Time to be Mad at Jisung, First Experiences, Emotional Vulnerability is Hard, Gutting Betrayal, Ominous Plot Hints, Testing Alliances, Crumbs of Backstory, Loyalty Crisis, We’re Still on the Ocean Planet, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

Your finger twitched where it rested at the pocket of your shorts, where the plastic keycard you’d never returned to Chan was really tempting you. After the captain had left you in the workshop, you’d dropped into your cabin to finally take off your waist pack. You propped your new sunglasses that Felix bought you on your windowsill, as well as the little boat you’d purchased. 

So now you were left with the question of what to do. If you couldn’t leave the ship but you had free time before launch, you wanted something to distract you from how you couldn’t visit the beach. It absolutely made sense to try out the keycard on Minho’s new cabin and ask him what went down with Jisung.

Or, you realized, there was nothing stopping you from going straight to the source.

Besides, if you riled up Minho right now, who knew what sordid, impassioned garbage that would start. If you weren’t supposed to fool around now that you were partners, you decidedly did not feel like teasing him.

So now that left Jisung. You grabbed a couple magnet clips to hold your souvenirs down before they got flung during takeoff. Below, the waves lapped at the slipdock, making you more than a little sore that you wouldn’t be able to even touch the water. Instead of lingering on it, though, you instead slipped back out of your cabin and into the maintenance access between the workshop and the galley where Jisung’s cabin was located. You were thrilled to find it was locked. There was an opportunity to try the keycard after all. You beeped it against the knob’s keypad, just as you had with the brig to retrieve Minho earlier, and held your breath.

The door unlocked. You practically jumped, giddy to learn this when you poked your head in the door, fully expecting to find Jisung brooding at his desk. Instead, it was empty. The cabin was empty, devoid of the pilot entirely. You did a double take, now fully stepping inside and locking the door behind you. Jisung’s cabin was even more quaint during a proper day cycle, with his little knick-knacks and photos illuminated in the warm light of the setting sun. His parents, apparently, were working as private tour guides, at least according to their pictures.

A shiver ran up your spine and you realized there was a faint breeze in the empty cabin. You searched for the source of it, noting that the exhaust vent was closed, when you caught sight of the culprit.

Of course.

The access hatch was barely open, so much so that you nearly missed it.

You opened the small door and hopped down onto the metal walkway, searching up and down the passage to figure out where Jisung may have snuck off to. A faint light tinted the end of the passage, and you walked down to the hatch that led to the cargo hold. You peeked through first, looking to see if you were walking in on anything you shouldn’t be before you climbed down. The cargo hold was undisturbed, but it was oddly loud in here, considering the doors should be sealed.

You surveyed the cargo hold, looking for what could be causing the outside noise of the port to be streaming in, when the obvious answer revealed itself.

No shit, the sub-hatch door Jeongin had snuck through earlier was propped open, one measly pry bar guarding the door. Curiosity bit at you. You gently pushed the door open and set it ajar on the pry bar again before you looked around the Ambler, when you spied a pair of legs swinging over the edge of the slipdock under the nose of the ship. These clearly belonged to Jisung, you noticed, when you quietly crept closer. The pilot was sitting on the lip of the slipdock, a fishing pole in his hands and a charge clip smoking on his lip.

You were tempted to surprise him, but you were a little distracted. This looked very relaxing after a long day. Rather, you decided to plainly walk up behind him, letting him feel your presence. He raised an eyebrow when he heard your footfalls before he turned to confirm it was you sitting down next to him. You were both silent while Jisung fished and smoked, but it was clear there was a conversation that needed to happen. Minho was furious when he arrived with Jisung back at the ship. You needed to know why.

“So,” you sighed, “I hear I’m supposed to be mad at you.” The waves sounded calming against the concrete of the dock.

Jisung gave a miniscule nod. Reaching the end of his clip, he pocketed it. “You’re gonna be,” he confirmed. “You ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “How was jail?”

The pilot shrugged. “It was jail. Pleasant, all things considered. I got you something.”

You looked on curiously when Jisung dug something out of the pocket of his linen shirt, now unbuttoned and relaxed open. He held out a closed hand to you and you extended your upturned palm to him, where he dropped a Phaborian mating pendant, the touristy kind that Hyunjin had mentioned. The paint didn’t feel as delicately ridged as the one you’d spent all day resolving. Looking at this one more closely, it depicted the port city of the Hatchery, with the market in plain view. 

But, of course, this caught you off guard. This was a mating pendant. 

It took a solid moment or two for Jisung to notice you ogling the pendant, as well as him. He took a beat to decipher your expression before it dawned on him. His eyes widened with a laugh.

“It’s not romantic or anything!” he immediately reassured you. “I mean, I like you, but it’s only been, like, a few days? A week? I just didn’t know if you had a chance to grab a souvenir.”

Your tense shoulders relaxed. “That’s so sweet, Jisung,” you acknowledged, fully genuine. “It was cool that this was my first port of call. I only wish I could’ve stopped by the beach.”

Jisung gawked at you. “This whole day and you didn’t go to the beach?!”

“Well, yeah!” you defended. “I was busy!”

“Fuck busy,” Jisung shook his head. “Come on, we still have plenty of time.” He scrambled up to his feet while he wound up his reel and pulled you up alongside him, already dragging you in the direction of one of the little patches of shore between each slipdock. You maybe had a second to tuck the pendant into the pocket of your shorts. The pilot paused to pop open the sub-hatch cargo door and toss in his fishing rod before resuming his mission, grinning while he rushed you.

“Jisung!” you laughed, “it’s really fine!”

It wasn’t, but it was a little ridiculous to consider he’d go to this much effort. Any effort, really, felt like a bit much. 

And Jisung ignored this, obviously, pulling you along and leading you down to the sand. It was approaching golden hour, and Jisung easily yanked you down beside him on the sand where he began to pull at your boot laces. You screamed out another laugh and tried to shove him off. 

“Jisung!” you repeated. “What’s the hurry?!”

“If you’re gonna take a moment, you gotta have time,” explained Jisung, as if it were clear already. 

Fair enough, you figured. You bowled over Jisung and got his shoes off as well, before you noticed he already got your socks off. The top layer of sand was hot between your toes, but underneath that was cool. You observed the sensation of the fine granules, glittering in the sun, how they felt under your fingertips and how it was just a little different from under your legs or feet. Needless to say, you’d never been to a beach. You’d never felt “real” sand. But now you needed to feel ocean water.

Jisung watched you jump up to your feet and sprint to the shore, barely taking the time to register how freezing it was now that the day was ending. And you didn’t stop at just submerging your ankles. You ran in until you started meeting the traction of the water on top of the sand. This felt amazing. 

From the sand, Jisung was caught between being supportive and worrying. “You’ll catch a cold if you’re not careful!” he whined.

“That’s too bad!” you teased back, yelling over the surf. You waded further in, eager to see if you could get straight to paddling. This was exciting to a point that you didn’t even catch Jisung running out to where you were already up to your waist, until you were already being hauled back to shallower waters. You flailed in Jisung’s grip around your midsection, despite his struggling laughs.

“You’re gonna drown, you lunatic,” Jisung wheezed, before tossing you into the ankle-deep waves. 

You landed on your ass with a splash, only somewhat buoyed by the sparse inches of water below you.

“Let me!” you gleefully challenged him, “then the guys will have even more reason to be pissed at you!”

Jisung didn’t have time to be offended before you grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him down, too.

The pilot smirked and shook his head. “You’re insane,” he affectionately remarked.

“You like that about me,” you refuted, shrugging and catching your breath.

“What if I do?” he chuckled.

That familiar silence slid in between you again, watching the water pool up to your hips as the waves lazily rolled in. Your knee was brushing against his where you sat together.

“The guys like you, too,” Jisung added.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “even Chan?”

“Especially Chan,” Jisung doubled down. “He’s just a dick, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” you deadpanned, clearly doubtful. “He better wise up, then. I’m not a huge fan of dicks.”

You caught Jisung’s eye and flashed him a knowing look. He’d been a little bit of a dick, too, lately, but it’s not like he nearly got you killed like Chan did. Jisung quickly averted his gaze, maybe a bit guilty. Maybe he knew. Maybe he was just as bad at expressing himself as Chan, just without the personal risk that apparently involved.

Minho came to mind in that moment. Did he actually like you? Or were you just a plaything that he turned into a sidekick? 

“Seungmin likes you, too,” Jisung added. He almost sounded annoyed about it. 

You attempted a cool scoff. “What if he does?” you asked. “What about it?”

“It’s just that he’s an all or nothing type of guy,” he explained. “That’s all.”

“What about you?” you teased. “Are you an all or nothing type of guy?”

“Uh,” Jisung awkwardly laughed, eyes downcast. “I’m more of an or nothing guy these days.”

“But you like me,” you determined, saying it less like the question it should’ve been and more like a fact.

Jisung looked at you again, but this time like he was really looking at you. “I mean,” he began, “obviously? You’re the coolest person I’ve met in a long time. I like how you dropped everything and came along with our band of traveling idiots.”

It was your turn to look away, attempting to stave off any fluttering butterflies in your stomach. “I dunno,” you humbly replied, “I think I’m just lucky I chose your ship.”

“I think we’re lucky,” Jisung gently refuted. Cheesy. Acceptable. He swooped in, chastely kissing your cheek.

When you returned the gesture, you found that his ears had turned bright red.

This felt different from fooling around. 

Jisung turned to face you more then, lingering until you did the same before he tentatively kissed you. 

This felt very different from fooling around.

You and Jisung were just friends, but it was surprising to feel this close with someone, let alone in the span of a handful of days. Maybe you’d just never let anyone in before. Jisung’s eyes peeked open in surprise when he felt you lean in, meeting his push. He was delicate with you for a second, savoring this kiss on the beach with you for a couple breaths.

He almost looked as though you’d awoken a sleepwalker when you backed up an inch, easing your lips off his.

“Aren’t I supposed to be mad at you?” you asked, more than a little lightheaded. You were dizzy by now.

“I’m not ready yet,” Jisung shook his head. “I have one more thing to tell you; it’s what got me locked up for a minute today. I have a lead on a gig.”

You backed up even more now. “You do?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. You’re the first person I wanted to pitch it to.”

“What is it?” you warily asked. Just knowing what it was meant that you were at risk of telling Minho, honestly.

The way the pilot sighed made you think that he might have known that, too. “Sunrise Casino at Sentury Station,” he began to explain, “it’s under new management, and they apparently stowed some goods somewhere inside. I’ve been hearing word about it but I wanted to find my guy and get the details direct. His sources say it’s a security deposit box full of royal heirlooms from Victory Meridian, including an entire tiara from Clessoria.”

A giant pit formed in your stomach, and even more with the last detail, but you didn't have a chance to act on it right away. Jisung looked at the timer he apparently had on his communicator. 

“We gotta get heading back,” he lamented. “Was this still a good time?”

“Yeah,” you mustered, and regretfully earnest. The bittersweetness of leaving this behind, the beach and the moment, ached in your chest. You had a feeling he and Minho were right. It was sounding like you were going to be very mad at Jisung. 

Your friend got up to his feet and grabbed his shoes before you followed and did the same with your boots and jogged after him. It was a wordless, short journey. 

Only once you reached the pry bar in the sub-hatch door back at the ship did you stop Jisung. He wasn’t looking at you again. 

“Jisung,” you gently, nervously implored, “what exactly did you trade for that lead?”

His initial response was a defeated scoff. “I didn't trade anything. But I made it look like I would and pissed off my contact in the process, ergo my ass ending up in jail. Are you ready to be mad at me?”

An exhausted sigh fell out of you. Feelings were the worst. “Yes,” you meagerly nodded.

He winced reluctantly. “We’re friends, right?”

“Jisung!” you all but shouted, trying to get it over with. 

Finally, predictably, Jisung pulled your ring out of the pocket of his shorts. 

You gasped.

He sighed.

Yeah, that would definitely get him a good lead on Clessorian Ore. 

You didn't yell, you didn't cuss, but Jisung flinched regardless when you silently snatched the ring out of his palm and threw open the sub-hatch door. 

Thankfully, Jisung didn't run after you. He didn't call after you. He simply let you storm off, just like you needed. 

And it would've been great, walking off that instant detonation of anger and emotions, except Chan was at the top of the stairs. 

“Where the fuck have you been?!” he shouted, crazed and concerned. Both of you were still dripping wet.

Especially Chan, Jisung had said. 

And you had to give Jisung some credit, because Chan let you storm past him and up the stairs, giving you a clear shot all the way to your cabin where you yanked the door shut behind you. You made peace with not watching the launch, instead opting to sort yourself out for a little bit. There was far too much on your mind. You were agitated, grabbing another magnetic clip for your windowsill and stubbornly determined to be pissed off while you displayed the pendant Jisung got you. The ring, however, was thrown into your bedside drawer and slammed shut with gusto.

This was fucking garbage. Jisung stole from you and very well could’ve lost your loot. This was reprehensible on multiple fronts. No honor among thieves was a well known myth, and besides, Jisung was more than a thief. 

He was your friend.

Asshole.

That nagging, penetrating urge to tell someone was eating at you, maybe have a sounding board or a crumb of comfort, but you weren’t sure who to lean on. You could always vent to Felix, you figured. He was an easy option, and he was obviously close with Jisung, based on how the pilot had been the one able to calm him down the other day when everything went down with Changbin. Of course, there was always a chance he was too busy recuperating after his misadventures. 

Or, you realized, there was Hyunjin. Hyunjin knew everything, you’d already been told. He could tell you if Jisung was more shady than he let on, or even if there was any credence to Jisung’s tip he’d won back at the market.

And then there was Minho. He was obvious, too. He'd want to know about the lead at Sentury. And he was the one to shake Jisung down in the first place. He’d be a great option, honestly. You even knew your keycard would work already. You just had to pick.

[neecxle]

Not So Berry Extended

I finished the Not So Berry Challenge but wanted to continue for a few more generations because I adore my family. So I’ve written up my own version of things I want to do and accomplish per generation. Now this is a small extension most likely 3 generations that will be updated as I play. Rules may be subject to change whether that be adding or removing things, bc I am playtesting all of this currently.

If you want to follow and watch my playthrough of my Not So Berry Extended, you can do so HERE. ♥

Hope you enjoy and have fun with it! 

Generation 11: White 

From a young age you grew a fascination with acting, the idea of being able to step away from reality and take on a role of someone else excited you. So with the supportive parents you had, they enrolled you in drama club for the entirety of your school life. You begin to strive for something more, becoming a global superstar actor! With focusing so much on your career, keeping serious romantic relationships is difficult because you always prioritize work over love. You eat, breathe, sleep acting and you were happy keeping it that way. But with a one night stand gone wrong... you find out you are now left with an unplanned child. 

Traits: Self-Absorbed // Music Lover // Non-Committal

Aspiration: Master Actor

Career: Actor

Goals:

enroll in drama club as a child and teen + get promoted to junior artiste (lvl.4)

master acting skill

reach level 5 in singing, dancing and an instrument of your choice

master the actor career and master actor aspiration

become a 5 star celebrity

have at least 1 celebrity best friend

never get married

have a one night stand and “accidentally” get pregnant/impregnate the sim* - this will be your only child

* if you choose to impregnate a sim, once the sim gives birth they give you the child to take care of 

side note: if you don’t have access to custom content feel free to use silver hair in replacement for white and dress them in white if you please

Generation 12: Brown

Growing up in the shadows of your parents spotlight was a little hard on you. Although you knew how much they loved you and tried their best to spend every free moment with you, you still felt...alone. Thankfully being a part of the scouts club gave you a sense of family, which you deeply cherished. Scouts club also made you truly fall in love with the outdoors. Being out in nature didn’t make you feel like you were so alone anymore, which is why camping became something you loved to do. There were tales that in the Deep Woods of Granite Falls a hermit resides away from everyone, so naturally the curious bean you were you had to find out for yourself. Forever alone felt like a motto you started to live by and thought you’d never get married like your parent, but someone finally came along and you were really happy with the way life was heading. Unfortunately down the road things didn’t end up working out. You’ve always secretly had this crazy idea of making a robot best friend since you were a kid. The thought of having a robot who was there for you every waking moment felt like something you needed in your life, so it was time to make a crazy idea… a reality!

Traits:  Loves the Outdoors // Loner // Erratic

Aspiration:  Outdoor Enthusiast

Career:  Gardener

Goals:

join scouts club as a child and teen + get promoted to llamacorn scout (lvl.5)

master outdoor enthusiast aspiration (i give you permission to cheat sleep 5 nights in a tent - it’s quite annoying)

master gardening career (floral designer branch)

master gardening and flower arranging skill

complete the insect collection

have a pet cowplant

master herbalism skill (craft each recipe at least once - 13 recipes total)

master robotics skill and create your robot best friend

have 1 failed marriage and have at least 1 child w/ them

go into the deep woods > meet and befriend the hermit

Generation 13: Black

Ahh books… you love em! You always enjoyed a good read that could take you on a journey in a whole new fantasy world. So naturally starting a book club at school to share your love for reading was the thing to do. Thanks to the club it brought you your best friend, who you later fall in love with and get engaged to. Instead of going off to university like everyone else you got convinced to join the military, but that didn’t last long so you quit and went off to study psychology. Whilst away at uni you discovered the Encyclopedia Vampirica, and got extremely curious about vampires to the point you took a trip over to Forgotten Hollow to find out if they were real. You end up meeting a vampire who you become completely mesmerized with and fall in love so quick as if you were put under a spell. This is where you decide to ask “could I be turned into one?” Without hesitation their teeth sink into your neck and the process of you turning has begun. You decide to drop out of university and call off the engagement because you have fallen for another and want to live out your new vampire life. Becoming a Simlish online teacher was your only option after dropping out of uni, and with working from home you had more time to yourself so you started writing your own books. Unfortunately your job started to feel mundane, so you have the bright idea of running your own business! Not being able to have children has always upset you, but with your new powers creating your own vampire family is only one step away...

Traits:  Bookworm // Cheerful // Insider

Aspiration:  Master Vampire

Career:  Military/ Education/ Business Owner

Goals:

start a book club as a child and meet with them at least once a week

get engaged to your best friend shortly after aging up into a young adult

join the military career reach lvl 5, then quit

go off to university and study psychology - drop out after first semester

fall in love with a vampire and ask them to turn you

break off the engagement after you drop out of university

master bowling, vampire lore, and pipe organ skill

join the education career reach lvl 4, then quit (only work from home)

write and publish at least 5 books

complete the master vampire aspiration

don’t have kids or adopt - instead create a vampire family of sims you turn (at least 2)

run your own business

(optional if you want to end the legacy) burn to death from being exposed to sunlight

If you have decided to end your legacy here, congratulations on completing my not so berry extended! I hope you enjoyed the challenge, if you did, thank you for taking the time to give this a go! 

- Much love, Nicole ♥

[bnhaisliterallymylife]

Creatures of the Forest

I haven’t written anything on here in months, and to be honest I should be working on my novel rather than this. But, I’m a whore for EraserMic and can’t resist the temptation. Plus, I have a weakness for Monster AU’s, so I’m going to have fun with this.

Also heads up, I did not proofread, and story details might be a little muddy. I am tired and horny, and I will now go to bed.

Word Count: 5,242 (Kill me.)

Pairing(s): Jinn!Shouta x Female Reader x Siren!Hizashi

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, fingering, double-penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, and probably more filth.

Premise: You just wanted to have some time yourself, and considering how cheap the cabin was you couldn’t pass up the chance at a countryside getaway. And they couldn’t pass up a chance of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cabin is not what you expected, but nonetheless you just felt glad at the chance to get away from the city for awhile. Your job has been stressing you out for months, and your family is no better. You booked out this one bedroom wood cabin from the 1970s for the next two weeks, a vacation away from technology and far, far away from the thoughts that kept you from yourself.

When you first arrived you checked out the whole cabin only to find cobwebs and dust covering nearly every surface, and the appliances were horrifically outdated. So, you decided to spend your time cleaning it up a little so you didn’t feel like a spider was going to crawl into your mouth in the middle of the night. Good thing, too, because you managed to find a fiddleback in its nest just under the bed. Now, you might hate spiders, but you’re by no means a killer.

“Work with me here, otherwise one of us is gonna get hurt.” You carefully manage to put a plastic cup over the agitated spider, and using a piece of paper you’re able to carefully take it outside. You don’t want to leave it near the cabin, and you don’t want to leave it out in the open field - what if a bird got to it? You have no choice but to trek out past the lovely field of wildflowers to the dark forest that lay just beyond it.

The trees tower over you as the sun begins to set in the distance. You’re not that far away from the cabin, but hearing the branches rustle against each other as the wind blows a warm summer breeze across your skin sends goosebumps over your body. It would be best to quickly release the spider and get out of there.

You go over to the nearest tree at the very edge of the forest and take the cup away from the paper. There the spider sits, rearing back as a threat, but its dramatics do nothing to you.

“You’re not so scary out in the open, are you?”

“He could probably say the same to you.”

You drop the paper and cup, whipping your head around to find the source of the melodic voice that had spoken to you, but no one is there.

“Over here, little bird.”

Your gaze falls back towards the forest, and just a few feet in front of you is a man with long, golden blonde hair that cascades down to his waist. He’s tall, probably six feet if you had to guess, and he’s wearing a tank top and jean shorts that show off his toned body almost too well. Then there’s his eyes, a green so bright that it contrasts the darkness of the forest.

“What are you doing here?” This land is supposed to be private, or at least that’s what the listing said.

“Sorry! I forget my manners sometimes. I’m one of the owners, you’re Y/N right?” Oh, one of the owners! You remember now, the listing mentioned that the owners of the property lived elsewhere on the land and might come by to check in on things.

“Yeah. You know, the cabin could have used a cleaning. When’s the last time you had anyone else here?”

“Somethin’ like five or so years. You like it though?”

“It’s... Cozy.” The sun seems to be disappearing much faster now. “Minus the spider.”

“Unfortunately we can’t do much about nature, little bird.” You want to ask him not to call you that, but you don’t want to be rude. The cabin is pretty cheap and you’d hate to cut this trip short because of a nickname. “But, if ya want my husband can come spray the cabin for pests tomorrow. I could bring by some food, too.”

“Oh, no thanks. I think it was just the one anyways.” The point of this whole trip is for you to get some alone time, and inviting this admittedly alluring man and his husband over would go against that.

“If you’re sure...” He trails off, glancing towards the spider that is now climbing quickly up the side of the tree. “If you do change your mind though, let us know! We don’t like pests around here, either.” You chuckle a little at that, but by now you’re already starting to back away from the forest to head back towards the cabin.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir!” You call back, now intent on getting across this field as quickly as possible. But, his next words feel like they’re a whisper in your ear, making you jerk your head back towards the forest. My name is Hizashi, little bird.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After unpacking that night you found yourself exhausted from the long travel to the cabin. After checking that all of the windows and doors were locked securely, you went to bed thinking about the blonde in the woods and the plans that you had for the next day. Your eyes closed with those thoughts mingling together as you fell into a seemingly deep sleep, unaware of the eyes that watched you from just outside of the bedroom window.

“She’s even better than I imagined...”

“You shouldn’t have gone to her today, it’s too soon.”

“If we wait too long then we’ll lose our chance! Let’s take her now, she wants to be far away, so we’ll take her far away.”

“We need time, and permission.”

“Well, I know how to get one of those things.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun peeks through the bedroom window you attempt, and fail to stifle a groan. It might have been a good idea to bring curtains with you, but you suppose that it’s part of the woodsy experience. You sit up and stretch your arms high above your head, unaware of the creature slithering across the floor until you put your feet down and hear a hiss. Immediately you pull your feet back onto the bed with a high-pitched scream. The rattlesnake coils itself up and sets its eyes directly on you, only a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You mutter to yourself as you reach for your cellphone on the side table. Unfortunately for you, the snake leaps forward and takes a snap towards your arm, eliciting another screech from you and making you back yourself against the far corner of the bed. “Go to the woods, you thought, it’ll be a great experience!” You mock yourself, now looking for anything nearby that you could use as a weapon. You could toss the blanket over it and try to make a run for it, but what you miss or what if it still managed to get you?

“Y/N!” You hear Hizashi just outside the cabin.

“We heard a scream, is everything alright!?” Another voice joins him, likely his husband.

“N-No! There’s a snake in here!” You glance towards the window to see it cracked open. Didn’t you lock it last night? “I can’t get past it!” You hear some banging at the front door, but shouldn’t they have a key? Or maybe they didn’t want to just walk in? “The window to the room is open! Hurry!” How close is the nearest hospital if you get bit? How long would it take you to die?

When you see two figures come around to the bedroom window you feel like you could weep in relief, but they hesitate.

“Is it okay for us to come in? How close is the snake?” The dark-haired man asks, and in your panic you don’t even question the absurdity of the first question.

“I-It’s close to me, you can come in. Be careful though.” You’re much quieter now, thinking that maybe your yelling only made the creature on your floor angrier. Hizashi’s husband only then pushes the window further open, sticking one leg inside to stabilize himself before coming all the way in. The snake is too focused on you to notice the new intruder.

“Y/N, my name is Shouta, and I need you to follow my instructions. Can you do that for me?” His voice is low and smooth, it calms you instantly.

“O-Okay.”

“Good girl. Pick up the blanket from your bed very slowly, try not to make any sudden movements - he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” You highly doubt that, but nonetheless you lean down very slowly while Shouta sneaks around the back of the snake to grab the blanket. “Very good girl.” Your face flushes at the almost sensual compliment. “Now, throw it onto the snake. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” His reassurance calls you to action, tossing the thin blanket onto the snake. It hisses and wildly whips around under the blanket until Shouta manages to scoop up the blanket like a bag and tie it off. Just like that, your ordeal is over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now Y/N, Shou’s got the big bad snake.” Hizashi is suddenly by your side in an instant. When did he come through the window? His hand is on yours as he gently guides your shaky body off of the bed.

“I don’t even know how that thing got in, I-I locked every door and window last night! I double checked everything, I cleaned yesterday, I just don’t...” Why was the window open? Did she maybe get up last night and open it? It did get pretty hot last night... Quite suddenly, you’re extremely aware of how bare you feel in your cute light blue cotton shorts and black sports bra. You hadn’t even thought of it during your state of panic.

“I’m going to take this guy outside and let him go. Hizashi brought a dish over for you to try, if you want the company.” The two of them don’t seem to mind your half-dressed state, but you do.

“Sure, um, do you mind stepping out for a few minutes though.” You release Hizashi’s hand and grab the sheet from the bed to cover yourself. They understand pretty quickly, but both men didn’t mind it. If anything they want to see more of your soft, beautiful skin.

“Sorry ‘bout that beautiful! We’ll give ya some space!” With that, both men are leaving your presence and you feel like you can breathe a sigh of relief. What just happened? It feels like it all happened at once, but you can’t say that you aren’t relieved by their excellent timing. You decide to slip on some normal jean shorts and a faded AC/DC tee-shirt you got a few years back.

When you step out of the bedroom you can see Hizashi already bustling around the kitchen, humming in a way that made you feel warm little fuzzies on the inside. Shouta is sitting at the dining room table with his dark eyes shut. You take a moment to silently admire Hizashi’s husband. He’s more filled out than the lithe blonde, and while his black wavy hair is long, it’s only a few inches past his shoulders. And then she notices the deep scar just under his right eye.

“See something you like?” Your face once again turns red when you realize his eyes have opened and he’s looking directly at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare-”

“It’s alright. It’s the scar, right?” When he says this, Hizashi stops his cooking momentarily to look back at you and his husband.

“Oh, no! I don’t mind scars, scars can be sexy!” Why did you have to say that? An amused smirk slides across Shouta’s lips when you say this. Hizashi, meanwhile, lets out a chuckle that makes the air around you feel too light.

“Well of course scars are sexy! Why don’t you tell little bird how you got that scar?” As he says this you come to sit at the table. You may as well indulge them, they did come to your rescue after all.

“It’s not that interesting.” Shouta waves it off, but he can tell that you’re interested. “Unless you want to hear about it?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You shrug, and with that you get to spend the rest of your morning with the two men.

Apparently, Shouta had a run in with a man trespassing on the land and got a knife pulled on him. He said it wasn’t that interesting, but the way he told it captivated your interest. The guy was probably a hunter, or a thief, but they never found out. The local deputy came to get the guy after the confrontation, and that was that. They continued to talk with you long after breakfast had finished and you all had eaten, asking you about your interests, your passions, the reason why you came out here. You don’t know why, but when they ask you these questions you answer without a second thought. You think that it’s because no one has ever bothered to listen to you for this long, and the couple makes you feel as if you belong here, like you’re a person who deserves to be cherished. Originally you came here to be alone, but when you’re with them you feel something that you never felt back home. You just can’t quite describe it. Hours pass, and it’s well past noon when the two men decide to take their leave.

“If you see anymore snakes-”

“-Or if you just want our company-”

“-just give us a call on the landline.” Shouta finishes for the two of them as they walk out the front door.

“Sure thing, thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if you two hadn’t come over.”

“Probably woulda sat there, desperately waiting for your prince charming to come save you. Good thing you already have two of us.” Hizashi’s joke manages to get a little giggle out of you.

“You’re cheesy.” Shouta grumbles, though you could see a small smile on his face as well. “Come on, let’s leave Y/N alone.” You watch the two of them walk not down the dirt road that you drove on to get here, but back through the forest that encircles the cabin.

Once the couple is gone, it’s like you snap back to reality. This morning was crazy, and you got lucky, but you swore that you locked that window shut last night. Deciding that perhaps it was better to enjoy the rest of your day than continue to obsess over the snake incident, you take a sketch book and go out back to draw the pretty flowers in the field.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night feels even hotter than the day, making it near impossible for you to cover up in any way. Long ago you stripped yourself bare, sprawling yourself on top of the covers with a sheen of sweat covering your body. If you didn’t feel the cool air struggling to reach you from the vents, then you would almost think the AC is broken. Currently, you’re half asleep in an almost dreamlike state. That’s when you hear a soft whisper.

“What is your wish?”

You turn on your side, letting out unintelligible mumbles. A more soothing, honeyed voice joins the first.

“What do you desire, little bird?”

That voice sends tingles all through your body, setting every nerve on fire. It compels you to answer.

“I want...” You mumbles, eyes half open and glazed over as you give your answer. “I want... Release...” You want to feel all of your stresses disappear as if they never existed.

“I’ll give you release, kitten.”

The voice no longer sounds far away, which snaps you out of that sleepy haze and once again makes you aware of your surroundings.Your eyes adjust to the darkness to find yourself no longer in the cabin, but surrounded by looming vertical objects... Trees?

“Shhh, don’t panic, we’re here.” There’s that voice again, the one that makes orgasmic waves pulse through your eardrums. It soothes any worries that you currently have as two hands come up to your shoulders and gently lay you onto the soft ground.

They prepared this place just for you. The cabin had been a front from the very beginning, a way to lure you away from bustling city life so they could give you what you wanted - release. You didn’t know it, but you had met Shouta months before this at a little bakery just down the street from your work. You had been complaining on the phone about your new boss and how stressed you were because of your obligations, and you wished that someone would take you away from your own life. Unknowingly, you had called upon the closest Jinn in the area, and he had already taken notice of you.

“Be gentle with her, it could be her first time.”

“It’s definitely not. But don’t worry, I took care of the ex months ago.”

You can vaguely hear the conversation of the two men looming over you, but you do not react. On the inside you feel fear, vulnerability, and confusion. You can’t quite make out the figures above you, but you recognize the voices; your hosts, Shouta and Hizashi. You just can’t comprehend why they are doing this. Earlier today they were fine, sure they were getting a little too close and asking too many questions, but you wouldn’t say they invaded your space... Or did they?

“Took care of?”

“Nothing like that, he wished for a job in France, so I got him the job in France... But, he might not like that job very much.” You can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “It was necessary.”

“Agreed.” The hands that had pushed you back onto the pillowy moss are now moving down your sides, just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. You barely register the sigh of pleasure that leaves your lips at the tantalizing contact.

“Zashi...”

“What? Isn’t this what we wanted?”

“We need permission.”

“We have permission! You heard the wish!”

“It was vague. I want details.” Suddenly, you can feel another set of hands gently massaging your bare feet, then moving up your smooth legs to part them at the thighs. The exposure makes you whimper, though there’s little you can do beyond that. “Release your influence, Hizashi.”

“But if we do that-”

“Release her. I want to hear her.” With what sounds like a huff of frustration from the blonde, that hazy feeling that had come over you suddenly dissipates. Your vision becomes more clear along with the two entities above you.

Hizashi has moves your arms so they’re now pinned above your head, preventing you from covering your bare breasts from their view. Shouta still has your legs spread on either side of you, but he doesn’t move any further. You meet his eyes, eyes that had been onyx earlier in the day but now glow an eerie shade of red.

“Months ago you wished to be taken away from your life. Do you remember that, Y/N?” You can’t focus on Shouta’s voice, all you can focus on is your current situation. Tings sting the edges of your eyes, and your throat starts to close up.

“P-Please...”

“She’s not going to respond like this, Shou.”

“She will, be patient. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” His voice is stern. Even though you want to look away, you once again meet his gaze. “What do you wish for now?”

“Let m-me go!” That’s your first thought, but then you feel one of Shouta’s hands creeping further up your thigh, his fingers just barely brushing over your outer lips.

“Do you mean that?” You nod your head frantically, and unbeknownst to you Shouta’s partner is giving him an incredulous look. “So, you want to go back to that stressful life in the city? You want your asshole boss to walk all over you, making you feel like you’re the scum of the earth? You want your parents to treat you like you mean nothing?” He emphasizes the final word with a hiss, and this seems to get to you. Your sniffling briefly ceases, though you’re still tugging against the tight hold of both of the men as if you could escape.

“What are you?”

“A Jinn, kitten. Do you know what a Jinn is?” You nod you head - you’re aware of the mythology behind beings like him, but how does he exist? They’re fictional! “Months ago I heard your desperate plea, and ever since then I’ve been eager to give you want you want... For a price.” His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, making your body stiffen.

“F-For sex?”

“For partnership. To be with me, to be with Hizashi, to be with both of us. It does get lonely out here.”

“And I can’t leave.” Hizashi pipes in with a sad smile. “I’m a Siren tied permanently to this forest. Remember the story about the man with a knife? He was going to hurt this place, so we had no choice. Once this place is gone, so am I.” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your skin.

“You don’t need me though, I don’t need your wishes or whatever! I want to...” You wish that you could say that you want to go home, but do you? Despite your current circumstances, you found yourself considering this deal.

“If you’re here, then Hizashi won’t be alone. I can go out for supplies without worrying about him.”

“And if you’re here, you won’t have to deal with those pesky worries you had before little bird. You get to have fun, be free, be loved by us.” But why you? Why did they want to take you?

“Because you’re special, Y/N. Because out of everyone in that city, you were the one who wanted to escape the most, who cared but wasn’t cared for. You deserve us.” Shouta drives his point home here, but he hopes that it will be enough. After all, he would prefer your consent, but it’s not entirely needed here.

“Okay.” You whisper. After all, what’s really waiting for you back home? Misery and paperwork, that’s what.

“Okay what?”

“You need to be more specific, Y/N.” You take a deep, shuddering breath before you speak again.

“I-I want release, I don’t want to go home anymore.”

“And in exchange?” Shouta pushes, his eyes glowing as he stares into yours.

“In e-exchange, I’ll stay here. I’ll be your... Partner.”

That seems to be all that they need from you, because in the next moment the two men above you are no longer clothed. You squeak and shut your eyes - it’s not the first time you’ve seen a naked man, but usually they don’t just pop out in front of you like that!

“You’re little noises are so cute.” Hizashi uses one of his knees to keep your wrists pinned above your head so his hands could get to work. While your eyes are still closed you feel his soft fingers run across your neck and past your collarbone, headed straight for your breasts. But just before they can get there, a pair of lips smash to yours. Shouta’s tongue flicks out at your bottom lip, beckoning you to allow him inside. Just at that moment, Hizashi’s fingers find your pert nipples, giving each of them a tiny pinch. This causes you to moan, and Shouta takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth to get a taste.

You can feel Shouta’s thick erection against your cunt, twitching in anticipation. It has been awhile since you’ve had another man, and you have to admit that the thought of being railed by these very good looking men wasn’t so bad. You start to becoming lightheaded from the kiss and constant ministrations of your sensitive nipples when Shouta finally pulls away from the kiss to let you breathe.

“Good girl.” He brings his thumb up to wipe away some of the saliva from around your lips. “We’ll put this to more use later. For now, I want to see you cum.” In what feels like two seconds Shouta is suddenly between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could get a good view of your waiting, wet pussy. He blows cool air over your sensitive little nub, making it quiver and throb in anticipation. Meanwhile, Hizashi finally leans down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the little bug while his fingers continue to tug and pinch the other. Your head sits in the blonde’s lap, his cock mere inches away from your face.

“Do you want to suck me, little bird?” As he says this in that low, melodic voice of his, Shouta flicks his tongue over your clit, making your writhe under them.

“Careful, she almost came.”

“Is my voice too much for you?” You can only pant in response, letting out a soft moan when Shouta flicks his tongue over your little nub again.

“Answer him, or we’ll make this last.”

“Y-Yes... It’s... I makes me feel good.” His voice makes you feel like you could orgasm in seconds.

“And do you want to suck daddy’s cock?” The way he words it makes you whine, but you nonetheless give him an answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes... Daddy.” The instant that you finish that sentence, Shouta’s mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it so harshly that you can feel your head spin. Hizashi repositions himself so he’s kneeling right over your face, running his fingers through your hair as he guides your lips to his tip. You take his tip into your mouth and suck it softly, eliciting a groan from the man that gets sent straight to your groin.

“Fuck, just her lips are almost enough... Come on honey, you can take me deeper.” And you do, you try to relax your throat so you can take Hizashi’s cock deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his base, all while Hizashi has his hands continually playing with your nipples, never letting up.

Shouta continues his work between your legs, nipping softly at your clit while bringing a finger to your entrance. He gently pushes it inside of you, giving it a few thrusts before adding a second. You adjust tremendously well. He can already feel your wet cavern clenching tightly around his fingers as he curls his digits upwards. To this you give him a sweet little cry, which only results in Shouta setting a relentless pace. He pounds those fingers into you, hitting your sensitive spot with such precision that you can hardly focus on the cock in your mouth all while sucking and swirling his expert tongue over your swollen clit until you finally clench tightly around his fingers and cry out with your first orgasm of the evening.

Hizashi slows down the thrusts into your mouth as Shouta pulls away from between your legs, slowly pulling himself out as well. For a moment you’re confused, wondering why they could pull away when they haven’t found relief yet, only to be suddenly pulled forward so you’re hovering right over Shouta’s thick length. Hizashi comes up behind you, pressing soft kisses and nipples to the soft spot on your neck - he’s going to leave plenty of marks here later.

“Do you think you can take both of us?” Shouta asks, momentarily confused you until you realize what he means.

“I’ve never done it, um, there before.”

“We can make it easy, if you let us. It’ll only feel good.” Hizashi assures you, rubbing comforting circles into your thighs.

“We want to make you feel good.” Shouta adds, both hesitating until they see you nod your head once again.

“Okay.” You still feel nervous, but you want to feel good, and so far it feels really good.

Shouta helps your ease yourself onto his dick, pressing gently into your waiting pussy while giving your already oversensitive clit little flicks from his thumb. Once he has settled deep within you, you feel Hizashi spread your ass cheeks and press a finger into you. Your face burns from slight embarrassment, but admittedly as he begins to move the saliva covered digit in and out of you, you find yourself enjoying it. You try to move whilst on top of Shouta, but he grabs your hips to keep you still.

“Wait.” He commands, smirking at your impatient whine. That whine then turns into a gasp as you feel a second finger being pressed into your rear hole, nibbling on your bottom lip as an uncomfortable burning sensation takes place of the previous pleasure.

“Relax for me, little bird.” Hizashi whispers, and like his words work magic you instantly relax and that burning sensation goes away. He pumps those a few times while your juices continue to drench Shouta’s cock, then they’re gone, replaced instead by Hizashi’s pulsating member. “Stay relaxed, and take a few breaths.” Hizashi murmurs, placing a few soft kisses to your neck as he pushes himself into you.

At first you feel that uncomfortable burning sensation once again, but then that changes to a fullness that gives you pleasure. You huff in lust as Hizashi pushes the full of his length into you, both men temporarily remaining still while you adjust. Your back is pressed flush against Hizashi’s chest, so you can feel his heartbeat rhythmically hammering against you while they both wait.

“Please...”

“Please what?” Shouta once again brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, making you whimper.

“Please, make me yours.”

As if you said the magic words, both men suddenly begin to move within you. Shouta keeps your hips stilled while rolling his own to thrust up into you, meanwhile Hizashi wraps one arm around your waist to grope your breast. You feel his teeth graze against your shoulder with enough pressure to bruise, but you don’t care, you’re in a euphoric state right now.

Shouta keeps your clit busy with his thumb while the both of them pick up their paces, the sound of sweaty skin slapping together resonating throughout the dense forest. You can feel your next orgasm already building as the two of them continue at their brutal pace, the feeling of your holes clenching around them driving them absolutely wild with lust - they’re not going to last much longer, either.

“Fuck - we love you, kitten.”

“Yesss, we love you so much little bird.” Hizashi grunts into your ear, and while you can’t say it yet, you’re sure that it won’t take but a few months before you’re saying the same words back.

All it takes is one well timed thrust against your g-spot and another flick to your clit before you’re clamping down on both men and letting out a long, strangled moan with your second orgasm. Shouta follows quickly behind you along with Hizashi, both men pressing deep within you before they spill their seeds. They stay inside of you even afterwards, letting you back in your afterglow as they both praise you, pressing kisses over your skin and telling you how great you did for them.

It’s too late for you to turn back now. You’ve made the deal, and you sealed it the second that you said yes.

[sg-marshall]

sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager. 

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill. 

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of  Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course. 

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the  Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

[underworldreaderinserts]

Hey, this is my first time doing a request and I don’t know if this is the right place to put it (I hope it is). But I was wondering if you do do multiple characters, if you could do (separate) headcannons for Zagreus, Thanatos, and Hypnos falling for someone completely mortal on the surface? Thank you so much and I’m really sorry if I didn’t input my request correctly!

Hello, love! No, you did absolutely fine, this is exactly where you’re supposed to submit your requests♡ Thank you so much for sending it in! I hope it’s to your liking♡ I’m so sorry it took so long to publish. The past few days have been hectic! But I’m back♡ Do these even count as headcanons? I’m so sorry-- I know you asked for them separate, but I thought of them all together, and I accidentally made a poly circle. Since this post is long enough already, I’ll leave them out, but please let me know if you’d want me to make a post with them! I had so much fun imagining and writing it that I couldn’t help myself♡  -- Ryan

Thanatos:

✧ Your modest, mortal life hadn’t been too grandiose; you worked as a humble physician, tending to your village in ways of medication and treatment, everything between minor procedures and check ups.

     ✧ In your line of work, death was no stranger. It wasn’t very frequent that patients died in your care, but when they did -- whether it was a life lost to infection, injury, or illness -- they were only in extreme cases. (Needless to say, Thanatos had made all those visits to your practice)

✧ In the beginning, he'd refrained from any involvement in your life -- only watching over the soul whose allotted time was running out before reaping them, then departing. 

✧ But one day, he’d watched you fighting to keep your patient alive. Tears streaming down your face as you did everything in your power to stabilize the boy. His parchment read, ‘name; Nicos, age; 10, cause of death; injury by stampede’. 

     ✧ He knew that he’d have no other choice but to take the boy’s soul -- living with those irreversible damages would be a worse outcome.

✧ After that, he began to notice things he never did before. 

     ✧ The care you put in to making your patients comfortable before they passed. How you went above and beyond caring for them, and giving preventative measures to prolong their life (though he’d still be there to take the soul regardless, he’d watched as you did your best to preserve their life). All of it showed how limitless your strength was.

✧ “He’s.. doing fine. The boy.” You heard a voice one day, an unfamiliar one. You turn around from the bookshelf you stand before, holding a journal and a vial of ointment. 

     ✧ “Excuse me?” You blink, asking the stranger softly, taking in his features. He wasn’t from the village, you were aware of that. The village rarely had travelers passing through, and given this man’s robes and garments, you weren’t quite sure he was an ordinary man.

          ✧ “Nicos. He’s doing well.” The man wields his scythe, gently shifting its weight from one hand to the other. Your eyes widen as it dawns on you. “Than..atos?” Correctly identifying him, he seems to give a small bow of his head.

               ✧ You do as any sane person would, in the presence of a god; you drop everything in your hands and take a step back. You had enough reason to believe him -- after all, you knew everyone in this village, and Nicos had passed months before his arrival. There was no way he’d have known.

               ✧ “Are you... Is it my time?” You ask, leaving Thanatos a bit puzzled. “Are you here to collect my soul?” You repeat, and the understanding visually clicks in Thanatos, and he chuckles, shaking his head. Of course, you’d believe he’d come for your soul, as he’d only ever appeared before humans who have met their time. “Then... What is it you’ve come for?”

               ✧ You’d asked the million dollar question. Why had he even appeared before you? What was it that drew him out like this? “I... Can’t tell you myself. I just came to tell you, he’s doing well.” And with a toll of a bell, he’d disappeared. No word of goodbye, no mention of ever coming back.

               ✧ Reflecting on what had just happened; The God of Death himself had come into your home, just to tell you that Nicos was alright. It warmed your heart to take comfort in that, knowing that he was no longer in pain.

               ✧ Sitting on the situation a little longer, and judging by that little bit of information, it finally dawned on you that he was there, personally, for that event, and that he’d thought of you enough to reassure you.

✧ Due to his work, Thanatos makes frequent trips to the surface. 

✧ Frequent trips to the surface, meant frequent visits (where he could, of course. Lord Hades would have his head if he didn’t prioritize his job).

✧ At first, he refrained from any sort of involvement in your life -- he’d come for his job, and nothing more. But now he seeks you out. He’ll stop by to check in, or even just to see your face. And one thing differs now, when he comes to reap the soul’s whose allotted time had run out.

     ✧ “Take good care of them, Thanatos.” You’d smile softly as you place a coin over your patient’s mouth, voicing your little prayer to him. You said this each time, too, and it made him think you could see him.

✧ He wasn’t sure when it began, but thoughts of seeing you as he carried out his job filled him with a warm, soft feeling.

Hypnos:

✧ In charge of the census of the dead, Hypnos was aware of how everyone dies; when they died, and where they end up in the Underworld.

     ✧ He found that his job became so ingrained in his being that, when he’d drift off at work, his dreams would take him to visions of the lives of some of the mortals he had met, or have yet the pleasure of meeting when they come to the underworld.

          ✧ Most of these dreams always tie back to a particular individual -- someone who seems to touch the lives of everyone they’ve ever met.

✧ At first, he’d just assumed that you’d met and knew everyone in the world, as the only common denominator throughout these dreams was you. But upon further evaluation of that statement, he had determined that was impossible.

     ✧ Next, he had to admit that perhaps he was drawn to you. Whether it was a connection the Fates mandated, or it was his subconscious actively seeking you out, he’d have these visions of your life, these interactions with the people in your life.

          ✧ An image of your smile, the depiction of an experience you had. You’d invaded his dreams, and eventually his thoughts.

✧ Being shackled to the House, and without the luxury that Thanatos or Zagreus have to go to the surface, Hypnos only has a very one-sided means of interacting with you; and though he doesn’t know you, he’s very drawn to you.

✧ It’s curious. As he’s seen all these snippets of your life, he feels he simultaneously knows everything about you, yet nothing about you at all. He could see these candid shots of your life, but he doesn’t know your dreams, your ambitions, or even the sound of your voice.

✧ With his thoughts always falling back to you, he’s a bit more spacey on the job, receiving reprimands from Hades more and more often, looks judgement from his brother, and looks of solemn understanding from his mother.

✧ Achilles teases him, recognizing traits of “a lovesick puppy”, but never really gets an answer on what that means (he might even observe Cerberus for a while to see if he can understand it a little more).

✧ He awaits enthusiastically, and a tad bittersweetly, for your eventual arrival to the Underworld, desiring nothing more than to meet you, and to hear your experiences of life on the surface.

⚠️Spoilers Ahead!! ⚠️

Zagreus:

✧ Most of your mortal life is spent in Persephone’s vibrant and luscious gardens.

     ✧ You lived not too far from her cottage, and you made frequent visits to her, bringing her goods and gifts from the market, and the words from all the gossipers of the town.

          ✧ As far as you knew, she was the only one who lived here, and she didn’t seem to have any family of her own. Taking care of her gardens seemed to be her passion, and to be honest you enjoyed her company. There was something about her, so lively and inviting, that made it hard to stay away for long.

✧ Trips to Persephone were always fragrant, delicious, and warm, despite the permanent snow in the region. Conversations over meals, fishing by the river, and of course time spent in the garden where you got to watch your toils bear great produce.

✧ One day, you return to the cottage, a basket of bass and trout resting on your hip as you walk. The plan was to make a profit selling them in town, and use the coin to get better tools for the garden and the kitchen.

     ✧ Though, on the way to the cottage, you notice scorched earth in the shape of a bare footprints. The trail leads up to the garden, where you find Persephone with a man you’ve never seen before. A man like you’ve never seen before.

          ✧ You watch on as Persephone embraces this ethereal form, whose skin is much like ash and moonstone. He looked beyond out of place, yet, something about him felt so familiar.

               ✧ Focused on the two before you, carelessly unaware of your surroundings, you snap a branch under your foot, alerting them of your presence. The stranger flinched, tensing as he pulls his guard up. He turns to meet your eyes, and whatever words you’d formed in your mind vanished.

               ✧ One red, one green -- his eyes bore into yours as you admire his. That electrifying moment of attraction ends in time with Persephone clearing her throat.

               ✧ No one needed to say anything for you to recognize he’d had the same energy as Persephone. You could deduct immediately that he was her son. But nonetheless, Persephone’s words broke the silence, “[Y/N], This is... my son. This is Zagreus.”

               ✧ “Zagreus..” You sit a moment, tasting his name as it falls from your tongue, and it was something about the way you said his name that drew a shiver up his spine.

               ✧ “[Y/N]... Have you been here the whole time? How much did you hear? Do the Olympians know of you, too?” His questions went miles a minute, but made no sense to you. “Why would the Olympians...? What, do you mean the Gods?” You ask, and Zagreus exchanged a look to his mother, recognizing his own mistake.

               ✧ However, he’d reached his limit in that moment, and Zagreus clutched his chest, stumbling. Immediately, you drop your basket in worry, and go over to help him maintain his balance. Persephone placed her hand on your shoulder, and you watched as his body faded away.

✧ It was then, between that day and the next visit Zagreus paid to the garden, that the whole truth was told to you. How Persephone was actually the daughter of Demeter, the cause of the perpetual snow, and Zagreus was her son with the God of the Underworld, Hades.

✧ Since the day he’d met you in his mother’s garden, his curiosity was piqued. 

     ✧ How long had you been visiting his mother? If you hadn’t known she was a Goddess of Olympus, what was it that drove you to help her? His heart beat faster with his recount of your eyes, your voice, your worry as he felt the tug of the Styx back to the Underworld.

✧ His mission remained escaping to see his mother again, and again, but he found himself hoping each time that you were there.

     ✧ To try the food that you’d make for him. To hear the newest rumor that was spreading around the town. To help around the garden, and see you glow with happiness as each of the plants met maturity. 

✧ You’d invaded his mind, tugging at the strings of his heart -- and on the days when you were away from the garden, his mother had no problems teasing him about his crush on you. Though, she admits, if she’d have to give her only son away to anyone, it would absolutely be you.

[shushiyuii]

Here is a writing request! I hope you have fun with it! You can put noms in if you want to! :D : Giant warden hybrid Wilbur lives very deep underground and is very lonely. He meets a lost avian hybrid named Phil and decides to help him out of the cave system. When they get out Wilbur is sad that Phil has to go. Phil then decides its time to adopt another child and brings Wil with him home to a surprised Techno and Tommy.

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! THANK YOU ANON! I DID HAVE A LOT OF FUN WITH IT and may also have gone a bit crazy with it? lol

(I didn't include Nom's in this story but if you ever wish for a part two with noms or anything i'd be more than happy too!)

Warnings: Injury, (Maybe some heavy subjects such as a child being lonely)

Words: 2.6K+

He doesn’t remember his younger days; he honestly couldn’t be sure who he was or how he even came into existence. One thing for sure was sounds, the tapping of a spider’s legs, creepers occasional hissing, skeleton’s bones rattling and a zombie’s growls.

It was always so dark, he’d seen the light of lava, sometimes even the light of day but the sky was always so high, so out of reach. And he couldn’t quite fit into the cave systems to find a way, so he was stuck.

He’s alone, he hates it. It’s too dark.

…

Phil flew high above the clouds in laughter, it’d been a while since he’d gone out on an adventure. Well, if you counted a much-needed mining trip of coal, iron, and such. But it was nice to be out of the house for once, especially with the kids out of the way.

Not in a bad sense though, he loved his kids but sometimes things were so busy he couldn’t keep track of things. Raising a toddler and a somewhat crazy child is well chaotic.

His two kids, Techno and Tommy. Techno had been adopted by Phil a bit early on, when Phil first met his now-wife, Kristin. He found Techno on the streets of a village, trying to fend off bandits. Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a thing he’d always had and couldn’t help but take the boy in. Much to his reluctance.

Techno grew up with Phil and is now a very healthy and happy 11-year-old, and then there’s Tommy. The most recent member of the family, his little bundle of joy of about 3 years old, Techno found it odd being an older brother, he still does but he copes.

The feeling of his feathers swaying, his hair blowing, him having to attempt to keep his hat on every second, he missed this feeling. He was glad he just managed to find a babysitter since their mother was currently out on ‘business terms’.

…

The vibrant blue sky, below the loving shades of green passing with every flap of his wings. He wondered if his wife was watching over him, with her being a god and all.

He was happy how life was currently going as of late, he only hoped that fate had a good future ahead of him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as he finally arrived at the destination. He had been well prepared for this trip; it was a mine that he’d been wanting to adventure for ever so long. He could tell there was something about it, something special.

And judging by the vibrant minerals just shining from the sunlight of the entrance, something told him there was more than just iron and coal in this cave, perhaps something more valuable, diamonds.

…

He wasn’t sure how long it’d been, but it had been a long time, he had quite a bit of iron, coal. But not only that gold and emeralds, a valuable currency. He wouldn’t have to worry about mining with the number of minerals he now had. Not only that but diamonds could be used to create powerful weapons.

He knew Techno would be happy, he’d always loved shiny things. Probably due to his Piglin features. And he could make Kristin some beautiful jewellery. It made him happy to say that his family was going to be good for a good while.

…

He picked up different noises, it was odd to hear such things. He could hear strange padding noises, perhaps some creature moving? Not only that but he heard the breaking of stone, which was a rare sound in his caves.

It was somewhat crazy to think something else could be coming closer to him, to hurt him. He knew he was strong not he didn’t even know If he was as strong as the outside monsters.

He wasn’t sure how he came to be in this world, he was always so alone. But sometimes the vines would speak to him, telling him of things like a place called the surface, which was colourful and bright.

…

The breaking of stone could be heard again, it only got louder and louder every minute. Whatever was making those sounds had found him and was coming for him. His antennae twitched anxiously; he was scared he didn’t want to die.

His claws bared as he readied his sharp teeth, he scanned for wherever the sound was coming from and waited to attack.

…

He panted as he broke at the stone, it’d been a while since he’d done so much mining, he was much out of shape. He had no idea where he currently was, he was long lost in this cave with no way of finding his way back. Despite the torches, he had no lead to where he came.

He was now trying to mine into the walls, hoping to find another branch of the cave that would finally lead him to a way to the surface. After the struggles of breaking through the wall for however long, he finally found another branch of the cave.

Big mistake as the first step he took into this cave, there was a loud crashing sound. Something had tried to hurt him, and he barely dodged it, the ceiling of the cave barely supported the impact, rubble falling from the ceiling.

He readied his sword for battle as he ran to behind a rock for cover. Something that caused that impact was definitely big, like strangely big. Not only that but the cave was one of the darkest caves he’d ever seen, the only light being from his torch.

He had no idea of where if he was honest, he couldn’t even tell if he was hiding properly. Anything could creep upon him at the current moment, it was oddly quiet, the only sound being his heartbeat.

…

He heard a strange growl behind him, it scared him with how deep and shallow it sounded, definitely a monster. Hesitantly he turned to the right, and right there was the monster staring right at him. But the monster flinched back when Phil turned around, the bright light in the monster’s face.

It seemed to hurt its eyes as he held his eyes and stumbled back in pain, from what he saw he saw about four eyes, antennae, and dark greenish-blue skin, with some light green bioluminescence that reacted to light. It appeared to be a Warden, a creature Phil had read about.

A creature of great mystery, one that mostly relied on sound, one that could communicate with plants. It was an odd creature, but the thing is about this Warden. It had a set of hair, not only that but it looked a lot more humanoid than what he’d seen drawn of the creatures.

It looked rather young too… No! No fatherly instincts! Monster?...

…

He winced in pain and stepped back from the strange being, he hadn’t seen light in quite some time. This thing was nothing like he’d ever before. He had never seen such a strange light. It hurt. This thing was strong if the creature had that then it could definitely kill him.

It came prepared.

“Hello?” it spoke. His eyes dilated as he scanned for the light, he saw it move around. He could see the creature’s confused features. It seemed almost scared itself, not only that but concerned. Something he wasn’t quite familiar with.

He was surprised by the fact that he could understand the creature, it was an oddly familiar language. “Hello?”, he replied with hesitance. He was scared that the monster’s features would change, and the creature would attack him.

“Oh! You talk? Good, because I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding!”. The creature made a strange sound, but seemed relieved and happy? Laughter?

“Sorry about the light, I didn’t realise it’d hurt you, my name is Phil. How about you?”

“What’s a name?”

“Oh? You don’t have one, well I guess a way to describe it would be a sort of title, something people can call you to identify you from others!”.

“… I don’t have one?”.

…

The creature- Phil had come closer, more friendly than before. No weapons, a smile. The once bright light is now dim, more adjustable.

“Well, if you don’t have a name. How about we give you one?”.

“Okay…”.

“Hmm… You look like a.. A Wilbur!”.

“Wilbur?”.

“That’s your name! Wilbur! Do you like it”.

“It sounds nice. I like it!”.

A name? It sounded nice, it made him feel unique, different from others…

…

“Well, Wilbur. Do you think you could help me?”, “How?”. “Well, you see I’m kind of stuck here. I don’t know my way out.”.

“Where do you want to go?”, “The surface.”.

…

“The surface?”, “Yeah! I need to get home!”. “Home?”, “Yeah, it’s where I live with my family!”, “Family?”, “A group of people who are very important to me, I have to get home or my sons, I don’t know what will happen.”, “Okay. I’ll help.”.

Wilbur lent his hand, confused Phil just stared at it. But Wilbur just ended up scooping up Phil and standing up, wandering through the caves.

“So, you live in these caves?”, “Mhm”, “Aren’t you lonely?”, “… Yeah…”.

“How old are you?”, “I don’t know, they say I’m a youngling…”.

…

Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a kid on his own in a fucking cave system? No fucking way. He had no choice; his mind was already made up. This kid was now his, he now wanted nothing more than to smother this boy in the love he never had, care for Wilbur. Like how he met Techno.

The two ventured the caves for a while, surprisingly no mobs. The two at this point had spoken for a while and gotten to know each other a small bit, Wilbur seemed fairly interested in his family too! So, it made him happy to think that he’d achieved a new son!

But he spoke a little too soon, a loud bang frightened Wilbur. Wilbur jumped back and dropped Phil from a height. Phil landed with an oof and looked back at Wilbur who was now crouching in fear, immediately he ran over to comfort the boy despite his aching leg.

“Hey, hey. Wil, it’s alright, it was just a creeper.”. He ran his hand over the boy’s own hand, “I-I, it was loud...”, “I know, I know. But it’s okay! It’s not gonna hurt you anymore mate! I’ll protect you!”.

…

He released his hold on his eyes and looked down to Phil… Protect? As in guard him? Phil’s eyes were enough to reassure him, it brought him comfort despite the small time of knowing him, he’d never known such a kind person before.

He picked up on a sound, the tugging of string. Phil didn’t seem to hear it as he was concentrating on him. He looked back to see a skeleton aiming an arrow at Phil. Scared, he quickly brought Phil to his chest as the skeleton shot the arrow.

Phil screamed but immediately calmed as he heard the arrow hit the ground, realizing that Wilbur had only been protecting him. He smiled and looked back furiously at the skeleton.

He reached for his sword and despite his aching leg, wiggled out of Wilbur’s hold and sliced the skeleton in half, its remains turning to dust and bones. He looked back to Wilbur, “You okay, mate?”.

“I’m fine! How about you? You’re walking differently.”. “Ah, I’m fine mate. My leg just hurts a bit!”. “Hurts? As in pain?”, “Yeah? Wh-“.

Phil was cut off when Wilbur brought him back to his chest, standing up and continuing their adventure to the surface. Being sure Phil was secure in his hold, not wanting to bring any more pain to this man.

…

A bright light could be seen in the distance, “Hey Wil! I think that’s the surface!”. Wilbur looked over in the direction of the light, he winced slightly but his eyes adjusted as he made way to the light.

Once they were outside, Phil took a good breath of fresh air. Wilbur copied, confused as to why and surprised with how fresh the air felt in his lungs. It was refreshing.

“Wil! We’re outside! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing but…”

“Hmm, what’s wrong?”.

“Where do I go now?...”

“We can go to my place if you want, you can meet Tommy and stuff.”.

“Really?”.

“Of course, Wilbur!”.

Phil then flew upwards and directed Wilbur to follow him, along the way Wilbur would get distracted by the views and greenery. Phil was more than happy to wait for the boy.

Now that he thought about it, he had a clearer view of Wilbur, who was definitely a lot more humanoid than he first thought, perhaps he was a hybrid of sorts? Only time could tell.

But at the break of dawn, Phil arrived home as was greeted by a worried Technoblade running towards him, a Tommy trying to follow behind him, wanting his father’s hold.

“Techno! Tommy! Are you guys okay?”. “Dad! Where have you been?”.

The worried words of his son and the rambling of his toddler were enough to make him scoop them up in his arms and cover them in kisses. Which seemed to cheer the two up.

But all hell broke loose when Techno stared up at Wilbur, he stood in front of Phil to protect him. “Who are you?!”, “Techno! Calm down! This is Wilbur! Your brother!”, “Brother?! Really Dad?!”, “Yes really”.

…

Despite the reluctance, Techno grew used to his new sibling, so did Tommy who seemed to really like Wilbur. Not only that but Kristin was more than happy to have Wilbur adopted into the family, and that’s how Wilbur joined the family.

… Bonus …

“Bitch!”

“Oi, don’t use those words, Tommy!”.

Tommy was now about 5 years old, a very clingy 5-year-old. One who never left Wilbur alone, not that Wilbur hated it, he loved his younger brother a lot. It was just sometimes he could be quite annoying.

“Wilby! I want cuddles!”. His antennae twitched as he closed his four eyes, pinching his nose to be as dramatic as possible and let out a long sigh, “Finee!” he dragged out. Tommy’s excitement as he ran to grab blankets was more than enough to make him smile.

Wilbur sat down against the wall as Tommy dragged pillows and blankets against the floor, the things being double his height and dragging behind him. Then made his way to throw the pillows at him and attempting to climb onto his lap.

He failed multiple times, “Wil! Help me!”. Finally with the help of Wilbur’s claw he adjusted and cuddled within Wilbur’s hold.

“Tell me that story again!”, “The one about the civilization and the brothers?”, “Yeah!”.

Wilbur laughed, “Okay!”.

Within 5 minutes of the story, Tommy had fallen asleep, so Wilbur changed to a simple lullaby whilst playing with his baby brothers’ hair. Something precious, something he’d always protect.

“Got room for one more?”, Techno stood there in his crowned PJs, who seemed barely functioning, his blanket and pillow dragging behind him. Usually, he’d never do such a day but today seemed to be an exception. “Of course Tech!”.

The three then fell asleep together.

…

“Awwhh! Look at them Phil!”, Kristin whispered as she peered into the room of her son’s bedroom. Phil giggled, “I know! I’m glad I have such a good family”.

Within the palm of her hand, he laid. Thankfully for them, Kristin was a giant, so the house was already pretty adaptable for Wilbur. She placed a kiss on his forehead. “Love you, hun!”, “Love you too!”.

[hisoknen]

kinktober day 3: predatory prey pairing: shindou x fem!reader warnings: noncon, vampire au, blood, gore? (you get bitten) wc: 2.1k

a/n: i was imagining of kol from vampire diaries while writing this oop. thank you @tomurasprincess and @10millionyearsdungeon for both beta reading and feeding me your thoughts. i am so fortunate to be in your webs. the running scene was fun and challenging as heck to write i hope you enjoy reading friends!!

You stumble against a bed of rocks at the forests entrance, quickly twisting your neck around to make sure you still have distance between you and your assailant. The crunch of leaves under your feet and shallow breathing is filling the air, hand pressed against the leaking wound spilling out at your neck. 

You were out walking, the time had escaped you and the weather was beautiful. The fall air was chilly, and leaves were scattered about. Taking a deep breath, you could smell the earth heavy in the air, the breeze crisp and flooding your senses. 

There was a feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach the second you saw the man. His skin was pale and soft, eyes piercing and dark. The smile he gave you as he glided toward you made you feel weightless. His voice was deep and commanding, pulling you into him. 

You looked around and noticed that you’d gone too far out this time. There were no houses around you, no people in sight except for him. You were drawn in, and he inhaled softly against your neck, his nose trailing the sensitive flesh, licking a line to your pulse point before biting down. 

The searing pain that jolted through your body quickly melted into pleasure, your mind fluttering as you leaned into his touch. The sound of a crow cawing broke you out of your trance, and in your pained confusion, you pushed him away from you and began running. 

The blood was steadily dripping down your neck, covering your collarbones and soaking through your shirt. You didn’t believe in a god, but that didn’t stop you from frantically mumbling prayers under your breath in hopes that something, anything would save you. Your lips tremble, and adrenaline spiking through your body as you trip over roots and stumble across the uneven ground.

“You have fast legs, little thing,” his gravelly yet cheerful voice seemed to echo all around you. You stop cold in your tracks, turning your head to search for the direction he was coming from. 

Your throat burns and tastes like blood. Heart is pounding against your eardrums, beating so fast it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. 

Crouching down you try to take breaths, willing yourself to take air into your lungs. Blood seeping through your fingers, dripping everywhere. No matter how much pressure you applied, it just wouldn’t stop. There was a soft dripping against the leaves below you like raindrops lazily falling from the sky.

"Wow, you’re really quick. I might have to take this serious huh," shooting up from your spot, you begin sprinting blindly ahead, scrambling over large rocks and jumping over fallen trees. A branch catches your arm, tearing into it, legs cut from the tall grass and weeds you'd pass. Your clothes are tattered from the falls and catches on sharp edges around you. 

The further you go into the forest, the foggier it becomes—your anxiety spikes when you slip on mud. The crows scattering from the trees as if they, too, are trying to escape the presence that is following you. You can no longer feel the sting of the branches hitting your face, only the shaking of your numb limbs desperately trying to stay upright on the uneven landscape. 

"It's really too bad that you're leaking blood everywhere," his voice whips around you like the air rushing past your face. Your legs are jelly, only running on adrenaline to push you forward out of harm's way. Your vision was becoming spotty and tilted. Each breath you take threatens to send you to the ground. 

“You can’t run forever, little thing. Aren’t you getting tired?” A dark sadistic chuckle encases the space surrounding you. You lurch forward, your foot tangled in a tree root. You’re wheezing as you grab onto a tree to hold yourself up. 

Where were you running to? If anything, you were running even further into the forest, where no one would hear your pleas and screams. But what other choice did you have? You had to get away from that thing.

“I do have to say, you’re making this fun.” Your knees buckle below you, chest rising and falling quickly as you try to draw in ragged breaths. You had to take a break before you could keep going, but there wasn’t time. 

The moment you relaxed, your head swam with dizziness. You had to get out of here before he found you. The forest was silent, only the crow's sound cawing in the distance with the sun beginning to fall out of sight entirely.

“Hey, there, little thing.” You let out a shrill scream, throwing your body to the side. He was looming over you, crouched down where you once sat. He was right behind you, and you hadn’t even heard him coming.

“You smell amazing, you know that?” His attention is focused on the runny handprint on the tree, his fingers gathering up the blood as he brings it close to his face. He dips his tongue out to pull in his finger, closing his eyes and sighing as he tastes the crimson stain.

“So sweet, leaving a trail behind for me to follow,” the taste of copper begins to crawl up your throat, your hand losing its strength and falling to your side, blood spurting from the wound he left behind. A raged sob escaping from your trembling lips, you try with all your might to scoot away from him. 

He stares at you like an eagle watching its prey struggle in vain, studying its movements for the right time to attack. Elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, head cocked to the side. He smiles at you, sharp pointy fangs catching your eyes. There is no longer much in light, only the sun setting behind his form. 

“While hide and seek was fun, I think I’m done playing for now,” He reaches out, squeezing your leg and tugging your body toward his. With such little effort, he’d swiftly pulled you away from your safety. 

He climbs onto you, grabbing your hands as you try to slam weak fists against his chest. Pushing them over your head, he bends over, running his tongue across your jaw and inhaling deeply.

“Plea-” you sputter out, blood leaking from your lips.

“What’s the matter, little thing?” his hand reaches behind you to tug the shorts down to your knees. Your breath comes and goes in small whimpers as he traces your bundle of nerves through flimsy panties. Wincing when you hear the fabric tear and a cold breeze catch your skin. He stares deep into your eyes, gauging your reactions as he begins to probe your cunt, running his fingers over your slit. 

“It looks like you enjoyed the chase too.” He’s not asking you a question as he pulls his soaked fingers up for you to see. Warmth spreads across your belly as he picks up the speed, rubbing and tapping at your clit while you let out garbled gasps. His finger teases your hole, a vibration coursing through his fingertips snaps you out of the lust-driven trance.

“I didn’t,” You try to look at him through tear-filled eyes, chest rising and falling as you wait for his reply. 

"No?" You cry out as he thrusts a cold finger into your tight hole, curving his fingers up and rubbing lightly at your gooey insides. There was only gruff moaning above you as he coaxes your insides, searching for the places that will make your head spin. 

Your cunt opens wide for him, sucking the digits in. There seems to be something inside of you that pulls you against his fingers in rhythmic pulses like a desperate whore seeking her release.

He retracts his fingers moving down your body. You try to move, but your body is overcome with the chase's exhaustion, not a single muscle moving no matter how much you beg your body. He pulls your numb legs apart, running his fingers along your dribbling cunt absentmindedly. He sinks his fangs into your inner thigh. You let out a silent scream laced with a moan as his tears into your flesh. 

The bleeding at your neck has clotted, caked dried heavily against the skin. Each time he bit into you, it felt like your mind was being pumped full of aphrodisiacs. Unwilling to comprehend the fear you were feeling, turning hot and sensitive as he fed on your body. His tongue lapped at the skin in his mouth, sucking in your life force bit by bit while you writhed in pleasure underneath him.

He flips your limp body over with ease, you taste the dirt and leaves mixing with the lingering copper setting in your mouth. He rubs his cock against your glistening hole, gathering your arousal before plunging into you. His cock slowly sliding into your unwilling core, bottoming out impossibly deep. 

You try to buck against him to get him off of you, helplessly clawing at the dirt. With each struggle and bite, your energy is sucked away from you. Forcing you to only feel what he’s doing to you.

“You really hate this that much, little thing?” He holds your hips tight, pushing them against the damp ground as he grinds against you. The motion has your head spinning despite your desire to escape. In some twisted way, your body is responding to each of his movements. Bile rising in your throat at how strongly your cunt is tugging him in for more.

“So how about this? If you don’t cum I’ll let you go.” His hips grind against your clit, his tongue trailing across the back of your shoulder. “But If you do cum, I’ll go ahead and kill you since you hate this so much.” He purrs, trailing his fingers across your exposed skin.

“Fair enough?” He ruts against you, his ice-cold skin almost burning against you, a cold chill running up your spine. You were just a toy to him—a thing to play with. You shudder, taking a sharp inhale through your nose to slow your breathing. 

He was using you against your will. He was going to kill you either way, yet you couldn’t stop letting out pathetic mewls each time his hips snapped against you, cunt to be drooling onto his balls.

He tugs your hips off the ground forcing an arch in your back. Hands finding yours and pulling them behind your back. He uses them to drag you onto him with each thrust. His cock begins to shake inside of you, rattling against your walls uncontrollably. You bring your thighs together, trying not to focus on the pleasure riddling your veins. 

The coil inside of you begins to tighten. If you came from this, he would kill you. Thick tears run down your cheeks as you play his words on repeat in hopes that something in your body would obey you and stop responding. You start to feel cold, your vision spotty from the blood loss, arms numb being tugged relentlessly behind you. 

“You were such a good thing to play with,” His voice rings in your ears. “But I don’t think you’re going to last much longer.” He chuckles darkly, tugging on your arms and arching your back against his chest. 

You let out a whimper as his cock grazes your cervix. The intensity of the vibrations pick up as he latches onto the other side of your neck, the breath from his nose tickling your skin as he feeds from you.

There is a weight building up inside of you. The small pulses of your cunt on his cock turn into a wave of pulses as you pull him in further. The coil in the hollow of your belly snaps weak, whines rippling past your lips as he stills against you,  letting you swallow his cock.

“Fuck little thing,” he slowly thrusts in and out of your sopping pussy, your quivering walls hypersensitive to the veins on his cock. The agonizing pain you felt before begins to fade into numbness, your body growing cold.

This was it. This was how you died. Pathetically wrapped around a stranger's cock, begging him for more while he bled you dry. Your eyes feel heavy as the soft numb overtakes you.

Shindou looks down at your abused body. He pulls up his pants, scooping you into his arms. He pauses, looking down at your closed eyes, and sickly completion. Biting into his wrist he holds it over your mouth. The blood trickling in rapidly, his wound healing almost immediately. 

The color starts to return to your face. Your breathing not as shallow. Your bites begin to slowly close, only the crimson stains remaining caked on.

"I think I'll keep you around just a little longer, little thing." He quietly hums to himself as he carries you further into the forest.

—

kinktober masterlist

tags <3 @linestrider​ @pleasantanathema​ @idratherliveinbooks​ @mx-minxx​ @kenmasmyvibe​ @leeswritingworld​ @katsukis-sad-angel​ @trafalgar-temptress​ @dabis-kitten​ @stainedglass-wings​ @thirsthourdemon​ @zyrielwolf​

[lemon-trap]

The Main Six with a Adventurous MC

Now, if you don’t know, an adventurous person in this head canon is someone who will randomly go down a different path that isn’t the main one or finds more joy going somewhere that isn’t the main path. I am an adventurous person and I love finding new paths and doing new things outside. There was this one time-

I think I’m getting sidetracked. Anyway, this is my first head cannon! So if you would like, please like and reblog! Reblogs are important!

Also, a little WARNING: I kinda went overboard on Nadia’s so if you get creeped out easily then don’t read that one.

Enjoy.

~~~

Asra 🔮💜✨

We know Asra and we know how chill he is

He loves to explore and is a bit of a wanderer himself

He’d smile at how you went down a small path without hesitation and he would be close behind you

You two probably wouldn’t say much but instead listen to the woods around you

You find a small lake with a huge tree next to it

Immediately, you want to climb the tree

Asra joins you, of course, and makes sure you don’t fall but this isn’t your first tree climb

You go as far up as you can and look around the area, amazed by how much you could see up there

Asra joins you but not on the same branch

You both marvel at the sight of the trees, far off mountains, and the beautiful lake underneath you

Your little banter up there is so cute

“You think a fall from this height would kill me?”

“Yes, please don’t do that.”

Eventually, because you can’t stay in one place for too long, you hop down and check out the lake

Asra drops a little flower onto the water and blows towards it, watching as it floats away

You pick up pretty rocks and place them in a pile because shiny rock pile

You two spent way too much time there and would have probably spent the night there if it wasn’t so cold that night

You make a promise to have a picnic out there one day and Asra happily agrees

Nadia 👑💖🍷

At first she wanted to stay on the main path but by the end of your adventure she was glad she went along

She’s usually the one leading so it’s odd for her to follow you down a path that she doesn’t know

She’d want to listen to what else you got yourself into the other times that you wandered off

You’d tell stories that would make the pretty lady laugh

Your adventure takes a darker turn when you approach a somewhat of a clearing

Nadia notices that the clearing has little buildings in a small circle

Surprisingly, Nadia walks to it first

Once closer, you realize that it’s a town that has been abandoned for a very long time based on the overgrowth and the types of buildings

You only go into a few buildings, making sure it’s safe and not touch anything

Everything seemed so untouched. Personal belongings were spread in the rooms. Tons of clothes still where they belonged

Nadia ponders on what happened there, telling you her thoughts at times

You reach the center and it’s a little statue of a strange creature that you can’t quite describe

Nadia then asks if you hear anything and that’s when you notice that it’s eerily quiet. No animal or wind noises at all

The town seemed so untouched

On your way out, no one says anything but you can tell that Nadia is thinking

It’s not until you’re out and back into the forest when you start talking again

You talk about strange things that happened to you before and she talks about this one time when her family was visiting another royal family

Nadia was very little but said that she remembered it vividly. There was a little boy who used to follow her around the castle wherever she went. He was dressed in royal clothing but on one in that royal family they were visiting had a son that young but they told her the story of a little prince that once lived in this castle but he died years and years ago. Visitors and servants would say they saw the boy follow them then weeks later those people would go mad and always drown themselves in the lake behind the castle.

Nadia’s curiosity was killing her so she went to the lake at night and didn’t tell her parents. When she was there, she saw the little boy just staring straight into the water and she watched for what seemed like hours before the boy smiled and walked into the lake. Nadia had waited but she never saw anyone come out. She was so scared that she’d be next that she ran back to her room but she didn’t tell her parents because she didn’t want to get in trouble.

You couldn’t believe your ears yet you knew that Nadia wouldn’t make up a story like that

Nadia just waves it off like it was nothing

Soon enough, you’ve reached the main path

Nadia thanks you for the adventure even if it was a little dark

Julian 🎻🖤☕️

As a wanderer myself, I think that Julian would be an excellent exploration partner

I’m sure he’d be right next to you or even ahead of you

With it all the way

If both of you wanted, you could spend hours just exploring new paths

He’d make suggestions for a new path, you’d see where that lead you then you would pick a path

You find an untouched clearing that’s just covered in flowers

They aren’t exactly roses or anything fancy but with all those different colors and types it looks so beautiful

Julian brings up the fabulous idea of making each other bouquets

You are excited for the idea and immediately you both go your separate ways to find the perfect flowers

Now, we know that Julian’s favorite flower is Wolfsbane but if you know anything about that flower then you definitely don’t want to put it in your bouquet

You find some pretty blue flowers that you’d think he’d like

Once you’re done, you go back to where you both were supposed to meet and you see that Julian is already there but with his back to you

You call his name and he almost drops what’s in his hand but he turns around with his hands behind his back

You show him the bouquet you made him and the look on his face is priceless

He looked so grateful and excited that you picked out these flowers, even though it was his idea

Julian brings his hands in front of him to show you the one he made for you

You gasp at how beautiful the array of colorful flowers were, they were so beautiful and thoughtful

You both switched bouquets and held on to them as you walked back into the forest

As Julian went on about having a picnic next to those flowers, you couldn’t help but stare at the flowers he gave you and smile

Muriel 🪨💚🪵

If your in the forest then he’d probably tell you to stay on the path but you really wanted to see what else there was in the forest besides the path you always went down

In the end he agreed and just went along with it

He’d follow right behind you, making sure you didn’t go somewhere dangerous

It would be mostly quiet. He wouldn’t start any conversation

You somehow find a temple of sorts

It’s built out of stone and despite how old it looks, it was pretty sturdy

Muriel was hesitant to go in but was kinda curious to what was inside too

It’s not a big or professional temple, just one that a little village would have

Neither of you say anything in the temple either out of thought or respect

You find the main shrine and put a small flower on top of it and Muriel does the same

After you leave, you look up at Muriel and grin then thank him for letting you go this way

He’d probably say that you left him no choice after you ran off

You know that he enjoyed this adventure even if he doesn’t talk about it often

Portia 🐈🧡💫

Doesn’t take much to convince her

“Hey, how about we go down there?”

“Really, (Y/N)? We were just heading back.”

“Yeah but-“

“Alright you’ve convinced me, let’s go!”

She’s so excited

She’d point out all the cool things she sees like a fat little bird

You both find a small abandoned castle that is so heavily overgrown with plants that you almost don’t see it

Portia basically drags you in there

It’s a really cool thing to see because both of you wonder what this castle held

You both make guesses that get crazier each time

Now, it isn’t a big castle but it is certainly beautiful

She finds the big room where the people who owned this castle would most likely have held parties

She convinces you to dance with her and of course you say yes

You dance formal then start just making up your own dances that just felt good

Something about dancing in a abandoned castle just hits different

By the end, you’re both laughing and you’re cheeks hurt when you leave

By then it’s dark so both of you decide to head back to the main path

Lucio 🍑🤍🔥

Honestly, he probably won’t like it.

He’ll complain that his feet hurt or that he was thirsty

But give him a minute and he’ll be excited

He’d swing around his sword at the overgrown plants like he was a professional explorer

He might even tell about a few of his own adventures

You’d listen and laugh and try to get a few of your own stories in but you took him on this trip so now you gotta deal with him

At first, you find a fountain that is almost in the ground and covered in moss

That fountain was connected to a small path that led to a huge mansion that was so engulfed by nature that you couldn’t tell where the house began or where the plants ended

Lucio was absolutely ecstatic

He kept going on about how amazing the mansion was while also gloating about how much better his castle was and he did this while basically running to the house

You could barely keep up with him but you were happy that he was having some fun

The front door was nailed shut with boards so Lucio decided that it would be a good idea to basically slam himself against the boards

Because the boards were so weak, he fell right through

The inside was magnificent with big staircases that led to the second floor

Lucio twirled in the middle of the big room then he smiled at you and asked for a little dance

You nodded, not having the power to say no to that offer, and danced with him while the sun from the many windows poured down on the both of you

You can’t help but laugh when he twirls you

The dance stops when you’re both out of breath

He still wants to explore the mansion and so do you

You find many rooms, some of the belongings of the people who used to live there still scattered around the rooms almost as if everyone left in a hurry

Lucio makes guesses as to what he would do if he lived in this mansion

You chime in with a few things you would do

The mansion definitely had led an interesting life in its prime but was now just an empty shell of what it used to be

Lucio reluctantly agrees when you say it’s time to go home

He’d definitely bring this adventure back up whenever he thought of it

~~~

Thank you for reading!

[arcane-apathy]

F Drider X F Reader

AN: Welcome to a new little mini-series of mine. I have been dying to write a drider story for the longest time now. This story is the first of my high fantasy genre, all my other stories have been modern fantasy or sci-fi. But this one is pure fantasy. I’m very slowly trying to make my content applicable for a wider audience as well. Anyways... Thank y’all for your support, and I hope you’ll enjoy! 

Warning(s): Swearing, Violence, Injuries, Mention of Sexual Assault, Death, Alcohol, Brief Mention of Nudity

  The Bloodroot Forest was the last place you expected to make camp in. When you first saw it on the map you tried everything to avoid it. But, the forest was massive and would take weeks for you to circumvent. Upon arrival you discovered the name of it is scarier than the actual forest. Simply named after the dark red sap that flowed from the otherwise normal trees. The forest was calm, the paths well worn and old, and the deer were brave. 

  Your camp was measly and made of the bare necessities, product of a rushed escape. War has ravaged your community, forcing everyone to seek refuge in new places. You have yet to find a suitable home, one far enough away so you wouldn’t need to flee again. For now you lived out of your bag, foraging for food, and with a stiff back. But, whenever you wanted to complain, you had to remind yourself of what your fate would’ve been if you hadn’t left home. 

  The forest was peaceful at night as you laid on your makeshift bed, tightly wrapped up in your cloak. The wind gently tosses the branches above you and the occasional noise of an animal. Just as you were about to sleep, the noises changed. The nocturnal birds stopped chirping and you could hear the animals running further away from you. And you didn’t dare to move. Animals only left when they were scared and if the deer that were brave enough to mosey into your camp earlier were scared, something big was coming. 

  Very slowly you sat up, straining your ears for any hint as to what was coming. The silence was bone chilling. Then there was a rustle. You couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, which didn’t put you at any ease. Slowly your hand landed on the blade at your waist, a gift from your uncle after coming of age. 

  “Well, what do I have here?” You quickly cover your mouth to keep from screaming, turning around to look behind you. Yet no one was there. “Look up.” Out of sheer curiosity you obeyed, your eyes quickly met with large pure black eyes and pincers. You try to scramble away from them, only to find yourself hitting the tree behind you. Driders were a force to be reckoned with, most of them being mercenaries or guards to those of importance. But, encountering one in their natural habitat was another story. Here they were territorial and followed no laws. 

  The Drider smirks as he hangs above you, his black and white legs twitch in anticipation as he watches you, “I knew I smelt something off earlier. Now I know what it is.” His pitch black hand reached out to touch you, “and you do smell divine.” Normally when a scent-sensitive person no matter what race they were compliments you on your scent, it would fill you with a sense of pride. But this just felt wrong on so many levels. “So girly, what are you doing in my territory?” 

  You shy away from his hand, glancing up and the red and black abdomen above you, “just passing through, I promise to be gone by morning.” 

  He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, his pincers rising as he frowns, “see I can't just let you through without any way to pay." You could now feel the heat of his breath fanning over you as he gets even closer. Sadly with his advantage of four arms he managed to grab a hold of your wrist. "But, I can easily think of a way for you to pay." 

  Now it was your turn to frown, "I don't think so." His grip tightened, promoting you to tighten your grip on your blade. Thankful it was hidden within your cloak. 

  "You don't have a choice", he hisses and tries to pull you off of the ground. You pull out your blade as fast as you could, using the momentum to slice his arm. The Drider hisses in pain as you scurry out from underneath him, bolting into the foliage not even bothering to look back. If you were lucky you'd be able to return for your things at a later time. But your safety was more important than your measly possessions. 

  You knew it was crazy to try and outrun a being with eight legs and the instincts of an apex predator. But it was all you had. It didn’t take long for the muscles in your leg to start to burn. The cool night air felt like freezing on your skin and like a fire in your lungs. And you could hear him gaining on you. 

  “Get back here you little bitch,” he hissed. Which only prompted you to run faster, despite how much it hurt. You could hear that he was taunting you, but you didn’t bother to actually listen to what he was saying. All you focused on was the ground in front of you, avoiding the tree roots at all costs. But what you didn’t account for was webbing. The silk was basically invisible in the dark, and thick enough to trip you. 

  You fall onto your shoulder with a cry, pain blossoming along your left-hand side like a spiteful flower. The branches and roots doing little to cushion your fall. Desperately you crawl to your hands and knees. Doing everything in your power to keep any semblance of distance between you and the Drider. But his laugh was already too close for comfort. Before you know it, you're grabbed by the hair and lifted off the ground. You couldn't help but scream as he pinned you to a nearby tree. His two pairs of arms being a natural advantage, "got you now."

  You kick at his chest, using every ounce of strength to push him away. But it just wasn't enough. You couldn't reach for your blade, and any attempt to wiggle out if his grasp was in vain. "Let me go!" 

  "Yeah right, after you've cut me with your blade. Nice try you little wench, but I'm going have fun with you until you take your last breath," his grip on your arms tightened to emphasize his point.  

  “Put her down brother,” a more effeminate voice calls out to him. Your breath catches in your throat as the source of the voice steps out of the shadows. The male Drider was large in comparison to you, but the female that entered the clearing made him look small. Much like the male, her skin, eyes, and hair were a pure black. Instead of a red and black abdomen, her arachnid body was pitch black. As she got closer the more the male dwarfed in comparison. 

  “The bitch was in my territory and she cut me.” 

  “And now you’re in my territory and I don’t care, let her go.” 

  The male looks at you, then back to the larger female with a frown, “fine.” Then he literally dropped you. You fall to the ground with a whimper, using your good arm to sit yourself back up. “Why even bother protecting her? She’d make a better meal than friend.” You struggle to get up, only realizing you were caged in by his legs and the tree. 

  “It doesn’t matter. My territory, my rules,” she slowly walks closer. “Step away from her.” Nobody moves, especially not the male Drider. All you heard was her sigh, heavy with disappointment, then all hell broke loose. The two Driders charge at each other, the male desperately trying to claw at her before she pushes him away. You watch in fear and awe, scrambling back into some bushes for safety. The male notices you moving and tries to lunge for you, but the female beats him to it as she stands over you. 

  “You really want to fight your own family over a pathetic human?” 

  “My morals mean more to me than you ever will.” She charges him again and picks him up before slamming him onto his back. Her pincers rise as she lets out a bone-chilling hiss of anger. With ease she climbs atop him, using her weight to hold him down. Her hands swiftly find their way around his throat. His legs flail and try to push her off, and he claws at her arms. But she did not let up. Instead you heard a sickening crunch, and his legs and arms fell to the ground. 

  Silence surrounded the two of you as she stood up and backed away from the lifeless Drider. Her chest heaving from the action and her hair in her face. You couldn’t help but stare at her in the moonlight. She sighs and looks at you, “I promise I won’t hurt you.” You watch her legs curiously as she steps closer to you. “You are hurt, please let me help you.” 

  You look back to the body and ask meekly, “he was your brother?”

  She nods, “one of thirty.” 

  Your eyes widen at the number, yet it made sense. Spiders lay a ridiculous amount of eggs, so Driders must do the same. You look back up to her as you try to stand up, “I think I dislocated my shoulder.”  

  “I have medical supplies back in my burrow, and light,” she smiles a little as she lowers herself down to look at you. “Can you walk?” 

  “I believe so, but it’s hard to stand up with one working arm.” She nods and grabs onto your good arm, gently pulling you to your feet. “Thank you.” 

  “Your welcome,” she smiles and gently holds your hand, “the forest will get darker the closer to my burrow we go. The trees are really thick over here.” You nod a little and let her guide you through the trees. Every time there was a log or boulder in your way she would pick you up and carry you over it. Her strength, agility, and endurance were nothing but impressive. No wonder why Driders are so sought after to be guards for nobility. Soon the opening of her burrow was in sight, a pair of bushes strategically planted alongside the opening to give it a little bit of cover. 

  The burrow was cozy to say the least, and was bigger than it looked on the outside. It was cool inside due to being underground, yet it was bright with the help of oil lamps and candles. The walls and ceiling were smoothed down and holding shape with the help of webbing. “Sadly I don’t have any furniture for you to sit on cause… well,”she motions to her abdomen before going to a large trunk. She pulls out a large blanket and leaves it folded up so it was like a pillow, “but this will be better than the floor.” 

  “I’m plenty used to sitting and sleeping on the ground by now. But thank you,” you sit down and wince as you bump your shoulder into the wall. You watch as she digs through a different trunk, reading the bottles and containers. 

  She walks over to you and sits on the ground in front of you, her legs sprawled out all over the place. Even without the added height of her legs she was still a few feet taller than you. If you had to guess, she looked to be around nine feet tall when she stood at her full height. “I don’t have many pain killers, but I do have a bottle of brandy if that will help.” 

  You chuckle as she hands you the bottle, “anything is helpful at this point.” 

  She motions to your cloak, “may I?” 

  You nod, “of course.” Her fingers were nimble as she undid the pin that held the garment closed. The cloak fell to the floor around you as she gently ran her hands along your shoulder. 

  “You’re right, it’s dislocated,” she offers a small smile, “but, I can easily put it back in.” 

  You sigh and take a swig of the brandy, “that would be greatly appreciated… After a few more sips.” 

  “Of course,” she chuckles and watches you drink. “I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Lalia.” You smile a little and introduce yourself as she watches you curiously. “So, what are you doing in the Bloodroot at night?” 

  “I was trying to sleep.” 

  “So you’re a traveler?” 

  “I’m trying to find refuge,” you wince as she lifts your arm straight. “I had to flee home because of war, and I’m just trying to get as far away as possible.” 

  “I’m sorry to hear of your loss.” 

  “It’s fine, I’m safe and that’s all that matters to me.” 

  She smiles a little and slowly lifts your arm, “this will hurt.” 

  “I fully expect it to,” you nod and close your eyes. The brandy only helps so much, even if you got wasted off of it. She notices your determination and nods. One of her hands gently resting on the back of your shoulder as she guides your bone back into the socket. You bite back a scream as you feel the bone pop back into place, then the pain immediately subsides. Simply an annoying buzz versus the piercing sensation that it was before. You let out a breath that you didn’t notice you were holding while Lalia tied something behind your neck. 

  She was using a scarf as a makeshift sling, “you should keep your arm like this for a couple days at least. So, it doesn’t pop out of place again.” 

  “Thank you Lalia, you truly are a lifesaver.” 

  She waves a slender hand dismissively, “it was nothing.” You glance at the claw marks that her brother had left along her forearms, the wounds already clotted. “Don’t worry about it, it’ll take a lot more than some claws to hurt me.” She gets up from sitting down and goes to put her supplies away. Now that your pain was gone, you finally got a chance to fully take in the woman in front of you. 

  Even in the lighting of the cave she was entirely black. Her skin, eyes, hair, and arachnid body were the color of ink. The light only reflecting off of her arachnid body made her look like she was made of velvet. Her face, just like her body, was slender and angular in nature. Then you also noticed she was completely bare, her lengthy hair being her only modesty. She was as beautiful as she was intimidating. And you couldn’t help but stare. 

  “Are you alright,” she tilts her head.

  “Uh yeah,” a little bit of heat rushes to your face, “just the brandy is starting to catch up with me.” 

  “Oh,” she looks around her living space before going to a shelf. She brings back a pitcher and a cup, “water from the nearby spring.” You smile as she hands you the cup, taking a large drink out of it. Not only was your pain dying down, so was your energy. Your exhaustion from traveling the woods all day and from running for your life. Lalia chuckles as you loudly yawn, her  legs making their way back to one of her many chests. She pulls out a bed roll and another large blanket from it, “I’ll make you a bed real quick.” 

  “I can make my own bed, it’s fine.” 

  “You have one working arm, I have four. I’ll make your bed.” Her tone left no room for arguing, so you simply sat and watched as she laid out the roll and the thick blanket atop of it to make it more plush. “Then you can use your cloak and the blanket you’re sitting on to cover up with.” 

  “Thank you, again… I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” 

  “There’s no need hun, I’m just doing what’s right.” You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by the pet name, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you got up from your spot and made your way to the bedroll. Using your good hand to pick up your cloak. You kick off your boots, something you usually didn’t do while on the road. Then made yourself comfortable on the makeshift bed. Lalia brought over the blanket you were sitting on and gently laid it down around your feet. “Do you think you’ll need anything else?” 

  You arrange the blanket and your cloak to your liking, “I don’t think so.” It took you a little bit, but you were finally able to lay your head on the bedroll’s built in pillow. Which was hard with only one working arm. While you try to get comfortable, Lalia is walking around the main area of her burrow. Turning off the oil lamps and blowing out the candles, leaving only one lit so you weren’t drowned in darkness. You silently yawn as she moves about the burrow with ease. Making you wonder if it was purely by memorization or if she had enhanced night vision. 

  “I can feel you watching me.” 

  You blush as you were caught red handed, “I’m merely curious… You’re only the second Drider I’ve ever talked to.” 

  “I hope my brother didn’t make too bad of an impression.” 

  “There have been worse.” 

  Lalia slowly makes her way closer to you, her voice slowly becoming quieter, “I will have to go back out soon… To hunt and to claim my new territory…” 

  “I see, are you nocturnal?” 

  “Not exactly, but it’s easier to hunt at night. I’ll be sure to find your things as well.” 

  “That would be greatly appreciated. It’s all I have.” Her smile falters a little at your words, “no pressure though.” 

  She scoffs a little, “that’s not what I’m sad about.” 

  “Please don’t be sad for me. Like I said earlier, I’m alive and that’s all that matters to me.”  

  She comes closer to your bed and crouches down. Her warm and slender fingers gently brushing your hair off your face. "That is quite the noble thing to say. I don't know many people who would say that." 

  You couldn't help the heat that rushed to your face, "I'm nothing special." 

  "I would say otherwise,” her kind smile illuminated by the distant candlelight. You return the smile before having a jaw splitting yawn. She chuckles and gently pets the top of your head before standing up again. “You should sleep hun, it’s been a long day.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” you sigh and you try to get comfortable. “Good luck hunting.” 

  “Thank you, I’ll be back before morning.” You nod and watch as she walks towards the mouth of her burrow. Your need for sleep makes your eyes too heavy to hold as soon as you lose sight of her. Despite being alone within the burrow of a Drider, all you felt was comfort.

[gukyi]

the courtship chronicles | ksj

summary: dating has never been anywhere near your list of priorities, but kim seokjin is nothing if not determined. and when he comes to the rescue and accompanies you to your friend’s wedding, he decides to request only one thing in return: for you to let him take you out on fake dates and shower you in fake affection, and show you how much fun dating can be. he just needs to remember to keep the part where he’s been in love with you under wraps.

{friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, and emotional hurt/comfort! word count: 20k a/n: big, big, big thanks to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me for this piece!! i honestly am so happy with this fic and even happier to give my main man kim seokjin the love and attention he deserves!!! this fic is pretty much slow burn from start to finish, so enjoy!

check out the post-script drabble here!

“You’re bringing a plus one, right?” Cynthia demands on the other end of the line, voice frazzled and breaths quick. “You better, because I already factored it into the wedding budget. There will be food meant for a plus one for you which I already paid for so you better bring one. I paid for it already.” She’s running in circles, trying to make her point. It’s clear she’s got an awful lot on her plate as it is. 

“Can’t I just eat their serving myself? You know I’m a growing woman,” you plead. Cynthia and the rest of her bridesmaids have been on your back about bringing a plus one ever since she got engaged. 

“No, you have to bring a plus one. Even if it’s your mom, Y/N, I don’t care,” Cynthia says. She makes to say something else, but then pauses. “Actually, I do care. Can it please be a date? Even like, someone you met off of Hinge. I don’t know. Not your mom. Don’t bring her. That would be only a little weird,” she corrects herself. 

“Weirder than some stranger I met off Hinge?” You ask pointedly. 

“No. At least they’re around your age. I want to see you applying yourself, Y/N!” Cynthia scolds. “Go out there and find a man! Pick him up off of the street if you have to! Anything!” She rallies. “Being single is cool and everything but being in love is just as fulfilling!”

“Of course you would think that, you’re getting married tomorrow,” you tell her, sighing. Can’t she just accept that you aren’t really looking for a relationship right now? And haven’t been looking for one since you graduated college three years ago?

“I love my future husband, thank you very much. We plan on leading a very full and extraordinary life with our fifteen dogs and eighteen geckos.”

“Okay, Miss We Bought A Zoo,” you tease. 

Cynthia laughs. “Pretty soon it’ll be Mrs. We Bought A Zoo, thank you very much!”

You hear a knock on the door, turning to check the kitschy cuckoo clock you had found at a flea market for five dollars for the time. It’s six on the dot.

“I have to go, Cynthia, Seokjin’s here,” you tell her, already making to hang up the phone as you head towards the door, using your shoulder and ear to hold it in place. “We’re making a family dinner for two, tonight.”

“Bring Seokjin! He’ll charm the shit out of my mom, I just know it,” Cynthia tells you. “Bring him! Tell him to clear his fucking calendar for tomorrow.”

“Bye, Cynthia,” you say as you reach out for the doorknob, twisting it to reveal your grinning best friend with a bag full of goodies on the other side. “I have to go.”

“Send Seokjin my love! I don’t even expect a wedding gift from him! His presence is enough!” Cynthia shouts, loud enough for Seokjin to hear everything despite the phone not even being on speaker. You hang up before Cynthia can say anything else to goad Seokjin into accompanying you to her wedding, sending an apologetic smile his way. 

“Sorry, that was—”

“Cynthia?” Seokjin finishes with a grin. You usher him into your apartment, letting him place his bag on your kitchen countertop as he pulls out two wine glasses to get the party started. You sigh, helpless. “Yeah, I figured. She’s getting married tomorrow, isn’t she?”

“She’s uber stressed, if that’s what you mean to say,” you correct, joining him in your kitchen as you start to unpack what he brought, countless tupperware containers filled with vegetables, meats, pastas. There’s even an entire bag of rice. Does Seokjin really think you have no rice in your apartment? Seriously? 

“I can imagine,” Seokjin agrees with a laugh. “Thank god you and I aren’t getting married anytime soon, right?” With a flourish, he produces a bottle of red wine you had been saving in your fridge for this very occasion, filling up half of each wine glass. 

“I’ll toast to that,” you say, smiling as you hold up your glass. Seokjin swirls the wine around in his own before holding it out. 

“Here’s to not being romantically involved whatsoever!” Seokjin hurrahs, and you laugh at his honesty as your glasses clink together, the sound echoing around your kitchen. “Who says you need to be married to prepare a kickass meal together.”

“You’re in charge of the meat,” you immediately tell him. You’ve never been the biggest fan of handling it. Vegetables are much more your speed. They also don’t get angry at you when you make a mistake cooking them. Besides, Seokjin’s always been the better food mediator between the two of you. 

“Like always,” he teases, giving you a nudge as he pulls the pots and pans from the cupboard beneath the counter and hands you one of the seventeen different cutting boards you have in random places in your kitchen. You don’t know what it is about them, but every single month you find yourself buying a brand new cutting board. They may as well be drugs. “You should really branch out and try cooking beef sometimes. I’ll teach you, hey? So you don’t have to be scared of it.”

“I am not scared of cooking beef,” you tell him sternly, flinching when Seokjin places the meat in the oil-slick pan and it begins to sizzle and pop. 

“If you say so, Y/N,” Seokjin singsongs. “You know, I’d make a pretty good teacher. I reckon I could show you a thing or two about cooking.”

“Okay, Mr. Cooking Is My Passion,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “Just because I can’t make a damn filet mignon does not make me a bad cook,” you tell him, “whose soup do you ask for when you’re sick and in bed with a cold? That’s right, mine!” You poke his chest for good measure, making him put his hands up in surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I concede,” he says with a laugh. “Your soup is delicious.”

“Thank you,” you say, proudly. “How about I make a couple of servings while you cook the meat?”

Seokjin blows a kiss your way. “Y/N, You know just the way to my heart.”

An hour later, you and Seokjin have whipped up an impressive set of dishes, from your homemade vegetable soup to his traditional bulgogi bibimbap, a small bowl of kimchi in the middle of the table accompanied by some sauteed vegetables and a serving of glass noodles. There’s enough to feed a family of four (one of whom could be a ravenous high-school football player) on your table, and yet, you and Seokjin never fail to finish it all. 

Seokjin takes one bite out of his bulgogi bibimbap and moans in delight, tossing his head back as he holds out two thumbs up, chopsticks clanging onto the side of the bowl as he drops them. “Wow,” he says loudly, patting himself on the back. “I’m amazing. Gordon Ramsey wants what I have.”

“There’s no way it’s that good,” you tease, even though it most definitely is that good. Seokjin is, without a doubt, the best chef you have ever met, the best chef whose food you have ever had the pleasure of eating. If he weren’t employed by a publicity company he would almost certainly be the owner of the best restaurant in the city. The New York Times would visit his restaurant and write a five-star review to be published in the paper the next morning. You take a bite of it yourself, chewing it slowly and pretending to ponder its flavor. It’s delicious. It’s never not delicious. “Hmm… it’s alright.”

“‘Alright’?” Seokjin shouts, slandered. “Just ‘alright’?” He slams a fist onto the table in anger. “This is blasphemy! It’s amazing!” Grabbing the knife beside his plate, he holds it under your chin dramatically, glaring into your eyes. “You better retract that statement, or else!”

“Or else what, Mr. Kim?” You say, desperately resisting the urge not to burst into laughter. Seokjin’s not doing much better, lips pursed tight in an effort not to cackle aloud. 

“Or else I’ll have no choice but to eat all of your bulgogi bibimbap for you!” He cries, reaching over with grabby hands to take your plate away from you. 

Just as he suspected, you hold on tight to your plate, refusing to let such good food go into the mouth of someone who has his own plate. It’s then, as you’re playing tug-of-war with your food, that Seokjin finally breaks into chuckles, hiccuping out his laugh as he concedes and lets you eat your food in peace. 

“Just as I suspected, peasant!” He says proudly. “It’s delicious!”

You put a heaping chopstick-ful into your mouth. “It really is, Seokjin. You always do such a great job.”

“I’m honored,” he says, bowing slightly. “Food is what brings people together.” He holds out a piece of kimchi in front of your mouth, and you eat it obligingly. “Speaking of bringing people together, what was Cynthia shouting about on the phone?”

“Oh, just her wedding, you know,” you tell him with a shrug. “The usual. She’s desperate for me to bring a plus one,” you say. Marriage is disillusioning her. She thinks everybody around her should have a love like her own. And while it is a wonderful, fairytale-esque thought, you just aren’t really on the same wavelength. You never have been. “She even factored it into the budget to guilt-trip me into doing it.”

“Why don’t you?” Seokjin asks, downing a spoonful of soup. “Going to a wedding alone can’t be too much fun.”

“I won’t be alone,” you protest. “I’m one of her closest friends. I’ll know a bunch of people there.”

“Yeah, but you won’t have brought someone who, by way of how plus-one’s work, will be obligated to be by your side the entire night. Who are you gonna dance with when Crazy in Love comes on, huh?” Seokjin points out. 

You frown. “I can dance by myself.”

“Yeah, but a plus-one would make it more fun! You guys can dougie, or whatever it is the cool kids do these days. Is dabbing still a thing?” He dabs, just to make a point. It’s cringey and awful and hilarious, all at once. 

“Stop, stop, you’re embarrassing yourself and I’m the only other person here,” you plead. “You and Cynthia are so on my ass about bringing a date, God. I just—I’m not really interested in anybody right now. Dating just isn’t my thing.”

“Has dating ever been your thing, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, even though he clearly knows the answer already. “I don’t think you’ve been on a date since sophomore year of college. Do you even know what dating is, anymore? Love?”

You roll your eyes. If there’s one person who’s a bigger hopeless romantic than Cynthia, it’s Seokjin. The man has an entire bookshelf of romance novels in his bedroom. He waxes poetic about falling in love every other day, about coming home to a significant other, a family, to cook for, to spend time with. He’s been on more Bumble dates in the past year than you can count on both hands and feet. 

“I know what it is,” you defend yourself, “I’m just—I don’t really believe in that, for me. I don’t ever see myself having it. I have friends. My family. That’s good enough. I don’t need romantic love.”

Seokjin scoffs. “What? You mean to tell me you don’t ever want to fall in love? Never ever? Come on, Y/N. Love is great! It makes you feel warm and happy, like one of those giant Costco teddy bears. Those are the material equivalent of love. Haven’t you always wanted a giant Costco teddy bear?”

“When I was five, yeah,” you tell him. “Listen, Seokjin, I get it. Love is great and amazing, I’m just not that interested. You and Cynthia have been trying to get me to go on a date for years and it doesn’t appeal to me whatsoever.”

“What about dating is unappealing?” Seokjin inquires. He’s determined. And you, the best friend, are weak. 

“I don’t know, having to meet new people, talk about yourself, try to see a future with them. It seems so tiring,” you say, sighing. Seokjin looks positively bewildered, because of course he enjoys dating—he’s so charismatic, charming, and outgoing. Even if a date goes poorly he still ends up with a new friend. “I’m just not that into doing that stuff.”

“Psh,” Seokjin says casually, skeptical. “I bet that if you just gave the whole dating thing a try, you might actually like it. You haven’t gone out on one in so long—maybe it’s different than what you remember. The last time you did it, we were all just college students.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “How exactly do you expect me to ‘give the whole dating thing a try’, then? Last time I checked, I wasn’t particularly interested in anybody.”

Seokjin pauses, pondering for a moment as he taps his chin with his pointer finger. Then, like a smack to the face, it hits him all at once, and in his excitement, he pounds his fist right onto the prongs of the fork by his plate. “Ow, holy shit!” He shouts, excited nonetheless.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” You ask, a little concerned and a lot amused.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assures you, rubbing the side of his palm. “But what I was about to say, is why don’t we go out?”

You sputter, choking on the soup you had just taken a sip of. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“Why don’t we date? It’ll be fun!” He says happily. 

“Seokjin, we’re friends,” you say. 

He shrugs, carefree. “Yeah, sure we are. But think about it: since we’re already so close, you won’t have to worry about introducing yourself to someone new. You won’t have to go through the whole tell me about yourself thing, we can just jump right into the dating part! It’ll be fun and you’ll get to see what dating is like past the introductions. How about it?” He asks. 

He thinks it’s brilliant. 

You think it’s ludicrous. 

“But, Seokjin, are we actually going to date? Like, be a couple? Because I don’t know if that’s what I was really aiming for with our friendship today,” you say hesitantly. You love Seokjin, sure, but you aren’t in love with Seokjin. You’ve been best friends since college. Won’t it be weird if you suddenly start dating? And doing other couple-y things?

Seokjin waves a hand around like a nonchalant businessman. “No, we won’t actually be boyfriend and girlfriend, or anything,” he promises. “It’ll just be fake. Make believe! Think of it as a dating test-run. What do you say?”

“You sound too enthusiastic for me not to be worried,” you tell him tentatively. He’s like an energetic salesman. It’s a little frightening. There must be some fine print you aren’t looking at. Something that you’re missing. “Are you sure about this? Like, do you want anything in return?”

“Anything in return to help my best friend find love?” He asks, scandalized. “Of course not!”

You frown. 

“Okay,” he gives in, “maybe some more soup. I’m about to visit my mom and she loves it.”

“Why don’t I just come with?” You suggest. Seokjin’s mom is the second-best chef you’ve ever met. Somewhere along the line, Seokjin took what he learned from her and improved it ten-fold. 

“Even better! Mom’s been begging me to bring you around sometime. How about it, do we have a deal?” He asks, holding his hand out. 

You sigh. He’s your best friend, and all he wants in return is for you to visit his mom with him. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

“Sure,” you say, conceding. “Why not?”

Seokjin’s first order of business as your self-appointed brand new not-real boyfriend, is to accompany you to Cynthia’s wedding as your plus-one. He does actually find a wedding gift on such short notice—a fairly new cookbook from which he had memorized the recipes already, so it was no longer of use to him. Because of course, Kim Seokjin is the only person on Earth who memorizes the one hundred recipes in a book just because he wants to. Where does he find the time?

[May 18th, 3:18PM]

Seokjin: Are we wearing matching colors? Seokjin: Or is that too senior prom?

You: As long as you don’t show up wearing white you should be fine

Seokjin: >_> Seokjin: You know that if I wore white the groom would drop everything and marry me instead ;-)

You: Only because of your charm You: I’m wearing pastel pink! I don’t suppose you have anything in your closet to go with that, do you?

[Seokjin is typing…]

[May 18th, 3:20PM]

Seokjin: Oh, Y/N, you don’t even need to ask twice

An hour later, Seokjin pulls up to the curb outside of your apartment complex in his Volkswagen, which is every bit as charismatic as he is, right as you’re scrambling to tug on your most comfortable heels (as if such a thing could exist!), running late, as per usual. The ceremony begins at 5:30 and you and Seokjin were meant to leave for the venue at four. 

It is 4:19. 

Frazzled, you rush around your apartment movie-montage style, tweaking strands of your hair in the mirror in the hallway and nabbing your bottomless bag on the coffee table. It’s not even really summer yet, but your apartment doesn’t have air conditioning and it’s becoming more and more of a curse as the globe slowly warms multiple degrees over the years. The true loser of climate change, rather than the polar bears, the bees, and coastal cities, is you, who thought renting a place with no air conditioning would be just fine. 

Desperate not to open the door to Seokjin with your forehead dripping, you dab off the beads of sweat gathered by your hairline with the skirt of your dress—whatever, you were going to sweat in it at some point—right as you hear the first knock. 

Seokjin’s fashion choices are usually rather conservative. He does work a somewhat menial half-office job, so he can’t roll up to his desk wearing the exceedingly stylish and exceedingly adventurous clothing that Namjoon and Taehyung wear, which, in turn, limits his closet. Lots of plain or argyle sweaters pulled over dress shirts with the collars peeking out, lots of navy jeans, lots of white sneakers and loafers. The only clothing item Seokjin does experiment with is socks, of which he has an impressive collection, ranging anywhere from corgi butts to Santa Claus. 

You didn’t really know what you were expecting when Seokjin said you didn’t need to ask twice after mentioning that you were wearing a pastel pink dress. He does own a couple of pink things, but as far as you’re aware (and you’re pretty aware, considering you’ve been best friends with him since the beginning of college), it amounts mostly to his sock stash and a couple of sweaters, which he most often wears under denim jackets or over dress shirts. 

What you most certainly aren’t expecting when you open the door is to see Seokjin standing on the other side in a full-on suit, a light grey color that complements the peach in his skin tone perfectly. More so, however, you hadn’t at all anticipated for him to be wearing a perfectly-matching pastel pink dress shirt underneath, complemented by a rather obnoxious bow tie with red hairs littered all over it. 

“Wow, okay,” you say, blinking just to make sure that your eyes are working perfectly. “It’s May, why do you look like Valentine’s Day threw up on you?”

Seokjin opens his mouth to send a witty response back to you, but the moment he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all of the words have fallen from his lips. He swallows, hands fumbling with the bouquet in his hand. “Don’t say that to me like you aren’t also wearing the most Valentine’s Day dress I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a pastel pink midi dress,” you tell him, frowning. “At least I’m not wearing something that has cartoon-y red hearts all over it,” you accuse, pointing to his bow tie. 

Seokjin gasps, offended. “Hey! This is my lucky bow tie. It’s never steered me wrong when it comes to love.”

You scoff. “I don’t think Cynthia and her fiancé need your bow tie’s help today. Have you ever seen someone more in love with another person than they are with each other?”

Seokjin pauses. He sighs a little bit, like there’s something weighing on his mind he refuses to divulge. You won’t press. You may be best friends, but you aren’t mind-readers, and sometimes, there are some secrets that have to be kept even from each other. Yours is that when you guys were juniors in college and Seokjin was running late for class because he was desperate to find the last Pop-Tart in his apartment, you had actually eaten it the night before when he was in the bathroom. 

You wonder what his is. 

“You never know,” he finally says, “we could always use the extra luck, don’t you think?”

You nod, “I suppose. What’s with the flowers? You know you aren’t supposed to bring them to a wedding. They probably have enough flowers as it is.”

As if caught off guard by the flowers held in his very own hand, Seokjin turns his gaze down to look at the bouquet, a collection of baby’s breath, tulips, and carnations. “Oh,” he says, speechless. “Well, I was dropping by the flower shop anyway to bother Hoseok, and he said that they had some leftover stock that nobody wanted because they were a little smaller than the other flowers, so he gave them to me at a discount. They’re for you, I guess.” Like a nervous high schooler going on his very first date, he shoves them towards you, making you step back to avoid getting punched in the chest. 

“Seriously? You didn’t have to do that, Seokjin,” you say happily, pleasantly surprised at the bouquet. Sure, some of them are a little wilted, a little dehydrated, but you get flowers so infrequently (in fact, you don’t think you’ve gotten any since Seokjin sent you one of those singular rose grams during your first Valentine’s Day at college), that the gesture is as good as gold. 

“Eh,” he says, shrugging casually. “I don’t really have anybody else I would want to give them to.”

Gleefully, you take them from his outstretched hand and immediately rush to put them in some sort of vase. You, like the piece of millennial trash that you are, end up using a random empty mason jar you find in one of your kitchen cabinets. 

“What time is it?” Seokjin asks, looking around for a clock. 

“Late, we have to go,” you instantly respond, shooing him out of the door and darting down the stairs because the elevator in your apartment building is about four hundred years old and doesn’t even have a light bulb inside of it. You cram into Seokjin’s tiny white Volkswagen, which just screams hipster-mom-in-her-forties, and he speeds off at a velocity that tiny Volkswagen beetles were not meant to go at. 

Surprisingly enough, you make it to the wedding venue with a few minutes to spare, which you largely attribute to the fact that Seokjin was driving faster than some of the SUVs on the highway on the way over. He isn’t a bad or reckless driver. He’s just a driver with certain priorities that rank higher than the act of driving itself. 

“Ah, the smell of nervousness and love,” Seokjin says as you step out of the car, inhaling dramatically. “Smells like a wedding.”

“Smells like the ceremony is about to begin,” you say, and you both rush over the pebbled path to the entrance, giggling like a bunch of high schoolers as you stumble through the front doors very ungracefully. 

“Wow,�� Seokjin says, impressed at the extent of decoration. Cynthia had been raving on and on about how she was aiming to have a sort of romantic, Impressionist art painting vibe to the wedding, lots of pastels, flowers, twinkling lights. “This is very impressive. One hundred out of ten.”

“Cynthia’s been planning this for months, so I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear it,” you say, ushering yourselves into the main wedding hall as the rest of the guests file in from chatting outside as the clock ticks down. There are two seats close to the front that Cynthia’s saved for you and your plus-one, which she most certainly will be very happy to see you have brought with you, in the form of your best friend, Seokjin, of course. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Seokjin whispers as everyone settles down. “Can’t you feel the love in the air?”

“It’s not in my genetics to feel that sort of thing,” you retort back, earning a pout from your best friend in return. 

“Well, it’s in mine, and let me tell you, Y/N, it feels like love!” He exclaims happily. “You should be basking in it.”

“Are you?” You round on him. No point in not practicing what you preach. 

“Always,” Seokjin says, gazing at you happily. He seems so content, in this very moment, about to watch a ceremony that will bond two people together for the rest of their lives, devote themselves to each other, wholly and completely. “I’m always basking in it.”

Then, the officiant steps up to the microphone at the front of the room. Seokjin reaches his hand over to grab yours, letting it rest in his palm on his lap, and the ceremony begins. 

Going to weddings as a child, even as an adult to a fairly distant coworker, they’ve always felt so detached from you as a guest. Sure, the ceremonies are wonderful and you’re happy for the newly-married couple, but it’s almost as if you’re watching a movie and instead of being another character, you’re part of the audience. When you leave the wedding venue, when all of the dancing and eating and celebrating is over, you forget all about it, and you move on with your life. 

But knowing the two people standing up at the altar as more than just coworkers, or a distant relative, knowing them as friends, as near family, tints everything in a rosy pink. It’s the most beautiful wedding ceremony you’ve ever had the pleasure of attending. It’s humbling and real and unrehearsed, romantic and funny and meaningful all at once. It makes you feel warm inside, truly, truly happy for your friend and for what is to come in the next chapter of her life. 

Crying was pretty much unavoidable. It was mostly on Seokjin’s end—he’s not as close with either of them as you are, but he certainly loves love much more than you do—but some tears were shed on your end, as well. This is the sort of thing you’d want to talk about for years to come, even after you walk out, in the hopes that a constant reminder will prevent it from ever fading from your memory. 

As weddings go, the next part is the best part: free food. You get to your tables and Cynthia’s fancy (and expensive) caterers come whooshing around with bottles of wine and pitchers of water, filling up the glasses on your tables as the wedding party prepares to enter. You’re seated next to some other old friends from college, ones you recognize and ones you don’t, and ones that Seokjin is very happy to start chatting up the moment you take your seats. 

“Are you here together?” One of the men—you think his name is Nathan(?)—asks, pointing to the two of you. 

“No,” you say. 

“Yes,” Seokjin says. 

You both turn to glare at each other as Nathan—no, maybe Noah—furrows his brows, clearly having not received the response he was aiming for. Seokjin makes a bunch of aggressive and dramatic facial gestures to remind you that you two are fucking dating, remember? Even though it’s not actually real, and that was the part you were focusing on. The not real part. 

“We are,” you correct awkwardly, even though Whatshisface seems to have moved on from the topic. “He’s my plus-one.”

“I’m not as tight with the bride as I am with one of her closest friends,” Seokjin says jokingly, even though you’re the only one who laughs. 

“Yeah,” one of the girls chimes in. “You guys were best friends in college.”

“Still are,” you say, grinning. At least you don’t have to lie about that. 

“So cute,” the same girl says romantically. “I wish I could fall in love with my best friend,” she turns to the man she’s with who clearly doesn’t want to be here whatsoever. “You guys must be so happy.”

“It’s not always a walk in the park,” Seokjin warns, and you don’t have time to smack him in the chest and ask him what the hell he means by that, as the officiant taps onto the microphone to begin to announce the entrance of the wedding party. 

As each couple, each bridesmaid and groomsman, walk through the door, you can’t help but wonder why Seokjin said it wasn’t always a walk in the park to be together. Are you that awful to fake date? 

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Cynthia’s father asks, tapping his teaspoon against the wine glass in his hand. “I’d just like to make a toast.” He turns to where Cynthia and her fiancé are seated, and he looks on the verge of tears. “For as long as I’ve lived, I’ve never seen two people love each other so selflessly. When they’re together, they make grey skies turn blue, turn night into day. All I can wish for you both is that you will forever be each other’s best friend, each other’s rock. There is no greater joy in life than to get to spend the entirety of it with your best friend. Congratulations, Cynthia and James. We are so lucky to know you both.”

Everybody begins to clap. 

Everybody, except Seokjin. 

You notice that his hands are resting in his lap, and when you turn to look at him, you see his eyes welling up, his smile soft and wistful. 

“You alright?” You ask quietly, giving him a nudge with your shoulder. 

Seokjin looks back at you like you’ve caught him off guard. “Me? Yeah.”

“You’re crying,” you point out. 

He shrugs, blinking to let the tears roll down his cheeks. “I just love that,” he explains. “Love knowing that some of us can be so lucky to spend the rest of our lives with our best friends by our sides.”

 According to the ancient law of weddings, the reception is where all guests are mandated to get out of their seats and boogie-oogie-oogie. At least, that’s what Seokjin says, when the food gets whisked away and the space morphs into a dance floor, tables in the center cleared as the bride goes to change in her mandated second dress, because one just isn’t expensive enough as it is. Seokjin just seems to know everything about weddings. It’s almost as if he’s planned one himself. 

“Just wait until all of the stuffy, traditional dances are over,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as Cynthia and her father share a dance. Seokjin looks like he’s about to jump out of his seat, desperate to get onto the dance floor. “You’ve never seen me dance at a wedding.”

“I’ve never seen you dance at all,” you correct, excluding all of the dabbing he did in 2016 when it was still a cool thing to dab. 

“Then you’re in for a real treat,” he says smugly. 

Sure enough, the moment the rest of the guests are invited onto the dance floor to drop it low, Seokjin is the first one out of his chair, and you, the second, begrudgingly dragged to the center by your over-enthusiastic best friend. He’s always been absolutely shameless in everything he does, which makes for high confidence and low embarrassment, two things you are certainly not the strongest in. Which is exactly why you end up side-stepping awkwardly like a geek at senior prom, while he uses every single one of his limbs to express his passion for whatever generic pop song is blasting through the speakers. 

Cynthia’s never been one for niche, hipster music.

“Come on, Y/N, have a little fun!” Seokjin encourages, grabbing onto your wrist and rapidly waving it up and down, making you shake. 

“You can have enough fun for the both of us,” you tell him, still just as aware of everybody else’s opinion of you as you were in high school. Some things really never change. 

“Impossible! Come on!” He says, and you have no idea what dance move he’s about to break into from his positioning, and then you suppose you’ll never know, because the song immediately switches to an acoustic one by Ed Sheeran, which is the most generic type of slow song you could possibly think of. 

“Grab your boys and girls, everyone,” the DJ says, a random white guy who definitely would prefer to make mixtapes in his basement than do this shit. “This one’s for love!”

You don’t even have time to take another step before Seokjin is grabbing your hand with his own and pulling you in close to him. He holds your one hand out and places his other on your waist, and instinctively, you rest your hand on his shoulder. 

When you went to senior prom in high school, your date was this terribly nervous friend of a friend, who asked you because you both didn’t have a real date to go with, and you figured it would be better to go with an acquaintance than nobody at all. And it was sort of fun, because you sat at a table with all of your friends and ate decent senior prom food, and it wasn’t in your stinky high school gymnasium but a fairly nice country club. But when the only slow song of the night came on, thus ensued the most awkward three minutes of your entire high school career. 

This is by no means an exact science, but you figure that the people you are closest to are the people you can slow dance with without it being terrible and awkward and awful. You did it with your parents when you were a little girl in the living room of your family home. You did it with Cynthia at two in the morning one night when she had just gotten dumped by this absolutely rotten boy. 

And now, you’re doing it with Seokjin. And it isn’t terrible or awkward or awful at all. You sway to the soft strums of the guitar and it feels just right. The feeling of his hand in yours, on your waist, of yours on his shoulder. There’s less than a six inches of distance and you feel as close as you have always been. Seokjin feels so natural. He always has, and you know that he always will. There’s no doubt when it comes to him, no regret. 

“Isn’t this nice?” Seokjin asks, grinning at you. 

“Only because it’s with you,” you say back with a smile. Seokjin beams. 

Later, when the slow dance is over and you make your way back to your table so you can watch your best friend make a fool of himself from a distance. Cynthia drops by, blissful. 

“I knew you’d bring Seokjin! He’s charming the pants off of my mom as we speak,” Cynthia says happily. You both crane your neck to see him teaching Cynthia’s mom the floss, outdated as per usual. 

“Yeah, I mean,” you say with a shrug, “who else was I going to bring?”

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Cynthia asks. She looks proud. She deserves it. 

You turn back to look at Seokjin, on the verge of tears of laughter as Cynthia’s mom successfully flosses for the first time. He’s so wonderful. The light of your damn life. “Yeah. He does.”

When the fair comes to town, you don’t find out from posters stapled to utility posts and taped to traffic lights. Nor do you find out from word of mouth, from the two strangers in your favorite (slightly overpriced) coffee shop ahead of you in line. It’s not even your coworkers who mention it to you in passing one day because their eight-year-old has been begging them to go but they can’t because they have a dentist appointment.

It is, because who else would it be, of course, Seokjin, who texts you at 4:18PM on that Saturday and says:

[May 27th, 4:18PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment to pick you up Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

And it is, in every possible way, the scariest thing you have ever received on your phone. Seokjin’s always been one for spontaneity, but ever since the two of you graduated and stopped feeling the urge to go out to McDonald’s at three in the morning, random activities have become less of a rule and more of an exception. But it’s a Saturday, which means you don’t have to go to work, and it’s near-evening, which means you’ve been sitting at home doing absolutely nothing all day as it is. And it’s May, which means that the sun only sets at seven at night and there is so much to be done in this wonderful weather. 

So, Seokjin’s on his way. 

You spend the next seven minutes (Seokjin lives approximately eight minutes by car from where you live, not that you’re counting, or anything) changing out of the yoga pants you’ve been wearing since you returned from work Friday evening and trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You don’t know where he’s taking you. He could be bringing you to an alley to murder you for your inheritance. He’s definitely on your will, that’s for sure. You want to look nice. 

Seven minutes later, you see his tiny white Volkswagen pull up outside your apartment complex as you’re slipping on some sandals. He hops out of the driver’s seat and scurries into the lobby, which signals to you that he is a man on a mission, and you are simply the best friend who gets roped along for the ride. He knocks on your door thirty seconds after that, and you linger for a few moments so as not to seem like you’ve been anxiously awaiting his arrival. 

“Let’s go,” Seokjin declares in lieu of a hello. He reaches out to grab onto your wrist, pulling you out of the door as you frantically make sure you have your bag with you, otherwise you’ll be phone-less, key-less, and lip-balm-less. Three equally terrible fates. 

“What? Now? No explanation, nothing?”

“I parked in the no parking fire lane with my blinkers on, which means we have to go right now. We also have to go because I am very excited about where we are going,” Seokjin elaborates, though it does nothing to clarify the situation at hand. Other than the fact that if you don’t get into his car right now, he’s got a ticket to pay. 

“But where are we going?” You ask again, as Seokjin and you scramble down the stairs to make it to his Volkswagen before the security guard in the lobby starts shouting at him for his illegal parking job. 

“The fair!” Seokjin says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you see it was in town?”

“No,” you say dumbly. 

“Oh,” Seokjin says awkwardly. “Well, it is, and I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while—”

“It’s been three days.”

“—and we haven’t gone out on a real date yet, you and me.” Seokjin explains as you get to his car. Luckily, there is no angry security guard nor a ticket underneath his windshield wiper, so you slide into the passenger seat and he drives off. 

“Yes, we have,” you object. “Cynthia’s wedding counts as a real date.” He was literally your plus-one. What more could define the word ‘date’?

Seokjin scrunches his nose up in clear disagreement. “No, it doesn’t,” he argues back. “Cynthia was going to tear your arm off if you didn’t bring me with. That was a date out of obligation.”

“Aren’t all of these dates out of obligation?”

You expect some sort of witty response, but instead, you’re met with silence as Seokjin opens the driver’s side door, the two of you looking over the top of his Volkswagen wordlessly, each waiting for something. 

What? It’s not like you’re wrong. Seokjin is taking you out on dates to get a feel for what a real, blossoming relationship is like. Except this isn’t real, and your relationship is far from blossoming. It’s bloomed, already. Into an irreplaceable friendship. 

“Yeah, well,” Seokjin sputters, for once in his life, speechless. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, sitting roughly in the driver’s seat as you get into the passenger side, watch as he fumbles to put the keys into the ignition. “Don’t you want to know what a first date is supposed to be like?”

“You don’t have to take me on a fake first date just to spend time with me,” you tell him, the two of you facing forward, staring at the road in front of you as he drives. The radio is playing, some generic alternative rock song that neither of you are familiar enough to warrant turning up the volume for. Seokjin’s always preferred listening to the radio over his own music. Something about ambience while he drives. “We can spend time together wherever. Even if we’re just in my apartment.”

Seokjin’s wonderful and the best and one of the (if not the) greatest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he doesn’t need to do all of this for you. It’s enough for him to text you in the morning to remind you to drink a glass of water before you eat anything to wake your body up. Enough for him to leave leftovers from your dinner nights in your fridge, so you can savor the taste of his food after he’s gone home. Enough for the two of you to be as you used to be, as you always have been and always will be. 

Seokjin scoffs, honking at a driver who sped through a red light. “Those aren’t dates, Y/N,” he explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “They’re just ways that we spend time with each other.”

“So then what makes this a date? What’s the difference?” You demand. Seokjin’s not making any sense. Sure, you aren’t nearly as well-versed in the dating scene as he is, certainly haven’t been on as many as he has, but from your limited knowledge, you’d always thought that what makes a date is not the setting, not the time or location, but the person you spend it with. 

Arguably, that would mean that all of the nights and days you’ve spent with Seokjin could, by that definition, be dates, but that’s obviously not the case. You’ve always just been friends. 

“It’s a date because I say it is,” Seokjin declares. “You wanna know what makes a date? It’s when the two people—or more, depending on how you swing—decide that it is a date. It’s just a label.”

“If it’s just a label, then why are you making such a big deal out of it?” You ask. You know you’re being a bit annoying with all of the questions at this point, but who’s to say you couldn’t have spent the evening curled up in your apartment and called that a date as well? 

“Because,” Seokjin begins, sighing. His hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are turning white. “Because,” he repeats, “if someone really wants to impress you, then they will make a big deal out of it. Because you deserve it.”

Eventually, Seokjin pulls into the giant open field designated for parked cars, and expertly squeezes into this tiny space between two absolutely massive SUVs, likely once filled with five children and two very, very tired parents. Sure, you both only have about six inches of space to shimmy out of his car, but it was a good parking job nonetheless. 

“Get you a boyfriend who can park as well as I can,” Seokjin says, patting himself on the back as you head towards the entrance. 

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have you?” You tease back.

You wait for a cheeky response from Seokjin, turning to look at him when he delivers the blow, but it never arrives. Instead, Seokjin reaches a hand down to grab onto yours, and you walk hand in hand towards the entrance, wordless. He pays, which makes you angry, but he tells you that you can buy a funnel cake for you to share to make up for it, and that’s good enough. 

In movies and books, a fair is a very high-school event for people to attend. Lots of bright flashes of color, loud noises, and junk food, which are three things that society believes deters anyone over the age of nineteen from attending. You can’t name a single piece of pop culture that features two fully-grown adults eating cotton candy and sitting in a ferris wheel carriage. Because the moment you turn twenty, your back starts to permanently ache and noises louder than the sound of your refrigerator making ice give you a headache, of course. 

Seokjin, of course, has never been one to let the media define him. 

He lights up like New Year’s Eve the moment you walk through the gates. Like a child on Christmas day. 

There’s a difference between being immature and being youthful that people often fail to realize, confusing the two, or worse, thinking they’re the same thing. But there are sixteen-year-olds out there who are more mature than middle-aged adults, and there are middle-aged adults who still act like they’re going through puberty. Seokjin was immature when you first met him, the same way all college freshmen are, but over the years lost that mindset while still never parting with the youthful part of himself, the part filled with childlike wonder, with innocence and hopefulness. It has always been part of him. 

When Seokjin looks at the world, he sees it bathed in light, in color. He sees people in their most wonderful form. Sees every day, every moment, as something worth remembering. Sees the future as something worth looking forward to. 

You’ve always envied that about him. Perhaps it’s just in your nature, but you’ve always been jaded, a little cynical. 

A realist and a dreamer. 

And they always say that opposites don’t really attract. 

Here at the fair, Seokjin is more than prepared and willing to have enough fun for the both of you, even as you pull up to one of those impossible-to-win water-squirter games. He’s already pulling out his wallet to hand a couple of bills to the angsty-looking teenager behind the booth. 

“You know that these are totally rigged, right?” You ask, chuckling to yourself as Seokjin rubs his hands together with a wide-eyed excitement. 

“Just because they’re rigged doesn’t mean winning is impossible,” Seojin says confidently, taking a seat and gearing up to begin. You stand to the side, arms crossed, waiting to be sufficiently unimpressed. “What are you doing standing there? I paid for both of us.”

Before you know it, Seokjin is pulling you down into the seat next to him as the teen counts down, giving you a very monotonous three seconds before the bell rings and you have to aim weakly-pressurized water into the mouth of a faded plastic clown. 

You’ve never had the best hand-eye coordination. On multiple occasions, Seokjin has tossed you a fruit, a bag of rice, something non-dangerous and relatively large, and on multiple occasions, you fumble to grab it and it eventually ends up on your kitchen floor. It takes you about half of the minute you’re given to blow up the balloon to get your aim straight, and by then, Seokjin’s balloon could eat yours for lunch. 

“Pick up the pace, Y/N!” Seokjin teases, relishing in his lead. This is embarrassing, and you’re better than this. And yet.

“It’s working against me and you know it!” You defend yourself. Because their unfairness is the reason Seokjin’s about to win and you’re about to lose. 

“How can you say that when I’m doing so well?” Seokjin laughs, and his balloon pops the moment that the sixty-second countdown ends, an underwhelming blare of celebratory music playing through the speakers at the corners of the tent. 

A sad little “Better luck next time!” echoes from the clown in front of you, and you slam your water gun on the table as Seokjin gloats in your face, the teenager coming over to hand Seokjin his prize, looking dead on his feet. 

“What should I get, hmm?” Seokjin asks. 

The selection is pretty weak. A lot of Frozen merchandise, two-dollar stuffed Olafs and capes with Anna and Elsa’s faces on the back. A couple of nondescript stuffed animals, from glittery lizards to pastel teddy bears. What looks like a generic-brand Whoopee cushion. 

“You don’t want a stuffed Olaf?” You ask innocently. The design is a little off, so it looks like Olaf is staring into your soul, Mona Lisa-style. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin says, pretending to think about it. The poor kid looks like he’s about to faint from boredom, desperate for two fully-grown adults to stop acting like they don’t know what prize to pick from an amusement park booth. “How about the pink teddy bear?”

Very on-brand for him. The teen hands it to Seokjin and the two of you go on your merry way, Seokjin demanding the two of you go to stuff your faces with funnel cake before rounding out the night on the ferris wheel. 

“For you,” Seokjin says, holding the teddy bear out to you as the two of you stand in the surprisingly-long line for funnel cake. 

“Me?” You ask, eyebrows raised in disbelief as your fingers curl around the fluffy fabric. It’s softer than you thought it would be. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, certain. “To remind you of me.”

You grin, holding the bear close to you. Sure, it’s a little bit kindergarten, like the cute boy on the playground placing a quick kiss on your lips before the teacher calls everybody in after recess ends, but the gesture is more than enough. To know that Seokjin won something, even something as plain and inexpensive as a prize from a fair, and his first and only thought was to give it to you, well, that makes you happy. “I don’t need a bear to be reminded of you,” you muse. Not when there are pieces of your friendship lingering everywhere you walk, from your apartment to your old university to your mind. 

“Can’t hurt to know you’re always thinking about me,” Seokjin says, and it’s not greasy or smug or weird. It’s honest.

You laugh. “When am I not?”

Funnel cake starts with a black t-shirt and the two of you arguing over who’s going to foot the ten dollar bill, much to your dismay. Even though Seokjin had explicitly said that you could pay, since he covered your entrance ticket, he still makes a big deal about doing it himself in front of the poor funnel cake girl, who definitely doesn’t get paid nearly enough to watch two grown adults fight over a ten dollar funnel cake. Eventually, you get your way and successfully hand the girl a ten dollar bill and she hands you a paper plate piled high with funnel cake as you begin to search for an open place to sit. 

“Just because I said that you could pay for the funnel cake doesn’t mean I actually meant it,” Seokjin says with a frown as you scope out a place to sit. At evening’s peak, it’s nearly impossible, which leads the both of you to a curb next to a recycling bin piled high with plastic cups, stained with Coca Cola and Fanta, knees up to your chin as you crouch over a single plate of funnel cake.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Seokjin says with a grin as a burly middle-aged dad steps on Seokjin’s clean white sneakers to throw something away. 

“We’ve been in more cramped quarters before,” you say. One of the many instances that immediately comes to mind is when the two of you were trapped in a closet in a frat house for nearly two hours because two people on the other side were having sex, the entire time. It was a good bonding experience. The two of you got very acquainted with each other’s scents. 

Seokjin’s hasn’t changed. Still sweet, sugary and vanilla from all of the baking he does, and a little bit like raindrops.

You wonder if Seokjin thinks the same about yours. 

“You know I don’t mind where we are and what we’re doing when I’m with you,” Seokjin says, and it sounds like a line straight out of a Hallmark movie, cheesy and cliche and rehearsed. But it’s none of those things. Seokjin says it and it’s real. And it’s the sort of thing that makes you wonder if you’re ever as true with him as he is with you. 

“Even when we’re sitting on the ground and eating funnel cake next to a recycling bin in a fair filled with messy children and their deadbeat parents?” You ask. 

Seokjin nods, taking an enormous bite of funnel cake. “Yes, even then.”

“True love,” you muse. Very few people would you do this for. Seokjin is one of them. 

Seokjin coughs at the words, his whole body shaking, and the powdered sugar from the piece in his hands goes flying, like a tiny little blizzard, falling onto his skin, his shirt, his lips, and everywhere in between. Snowflakes. 

Funnel cake ends with Seokjin trying to wipe the white dust on the front of his pitch black t-shirt away with a napkin, and only smearing it further into the fabric, cotton turning sticky from the sugar. It looks like a cocaine bust gone wrong. It looks only slightly not-kid-friendly. 

“Am I addicted to cocaine or did I just spill powdered sugar on myself?” Seokjin jokes, much to the horror of a family passing by, the mom giving you and Seokjin an alarmed expression as she picks up the pace. “It was powdered sugar!” Seokjin calls after them, making the two of you laugh. “Or it was cocaine. Whatever you want to believe.”

“You’re too soft to do cocaine,” you tell Seokjin, a very strange sort of compliment. 

“Maybe powdered sugar, though,” Seokjin says with a laugh as you heave yourselves off of the curb, tossing out the paper plate and dusting off your hands, flakes of powdered sugar falling to the ground. “Ferris wheel?”

“Anything you want,” you tell him, letting him lead you towards the ride, lit up like a Christmas tree. 

It’s as if every possible holiday threw up on the damn thing, a jumble of rainbow flights flashing erratically as a generic carnival tune plays in the background, sluggishly moving on its axis. It couldn’t have been built before this century. 

You squeeze into the carriage, clearly built to fit a child and their father at most, let alone two adults who both don’t have a regular exercise schedule. In order to fit, you have to stretch a leg over Seokjin’s lap and lean so that part of your shoulder is against his chest. It’s… cozy. It’s most definitely not the most cramped either of you have ever felt. 

“This is the part where I pretend to yawn and then stretch my arm over you,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly, as if that particular action is a mandatory part of the date.

“Oh, is that proper first-date etiquette?” You tease. 

“Only for me,” Seokjin says, cheeky, and it’s the greasiest thing you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing. Even so, you let him fake yawn, melodramatic and totally contrived, feel as his arm comes to rest on your shoulder, hand swinging down over your side. Instinctively, you reach up to grab it with your arm, letting the two of you sit like this as the ferris wheel creaks, slowly moving you upwards. “Aren’t you having the best first date ever?”

“It’s the only one I can remember,” you admit, especially since it’s still in progress. 

“That means it’s the best.” Seokjin grins. 

“And the worst,” you add on, making Seokjin laugh. 

Finally, finally, finally, you reach the top, overlooking the entire fair, lit up in the night in a warm pink and yellow haze. At this hour, only the teenagers are left, families having gone home for the night, and you can hear the cheers even from up here, hear the laughter and jokes and chatter. it’s a sort of ambience you’ve never had the pleasure of listening to before. One of an active night, filled with people, and you, far away enough to be out of the action but close enough to enjoy it nonetheless. 

“Isn’t this nice, Y/N?” Seokjin asks, the two of you looking out into the distance, wishing you could stay like this forever. “When we’re up here, it feels like I can forget about everything and just think about now.” If only you could stay like this forever.

“And what are you thinking about, right now?” You ask, head resting on his shoulders. 

Instinctively, his arm moves from your shoulder to your waist, tugging you into his side, letting you rest your legs on top of his own. Seokjin’s never needed to be more honest than he already is. He says what he means, and he means what he says.

It’s always been so easy when it comes to him. 

He lets out a breath, and you can feel his chest rising beneath your hand on his torso, feel the subtle beat of his heart beneath your fingers. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He rests his head atop yours. “You,” he says.

Seokjin, a man of his word, holds up his end of the deal like he does everything else: honestly and fully. Little has really changed about your relationship dynamic—he still sends you good morning texts and reminds you that you need to drink your eight glasses of water (which you never do, and he consistently does because he’s an organized man with perfect skin). Still randomly comes to your apartment with two brown bags filled with groceries to last you the next two weeks. Still makes time for you.

But now, it’s all being done under the guise of courtship. Of what it’s like to have someone romantically interested in you. 

Of course, Seokjin’s not actually romantically interested in you, but he does a damn good job of pretending to be. For the sake of this whole thing. Seokjin still has one objective in mind: get you to believe in love again, and that all of these things he’s been doing, from taking you to the fair to dancing with you at Cynthia’s wedding, are means to accomplish an end. 

(The stuff in between, the texts, the calls, the visits, those are just part of your routine.)

It feels completely normal and totally unnatural, all at once. Like a new kind of relationship neither of you have really ever delved in before, toeing the line between friendship and this other feeling, one without a name. Seokjin will do something that you and he have always done, long before any of this was in motion, like ordering Indian takeout to your place unprompted, and then he will say that that’s what people are supposed to do when they’re courting someone. As if he is the end-all be-all of chivalry. 

Truth be told, you can’t wait for this to end, for things to go back to the way they were. You never did set an official fake breakup date (if that’s what it’s even called), but you suppose that that means that you can just call it off whenever you’d like. You don’t feel as though anything he’s doing is working. He treats you just the same. What is there to fall in love with, other than familiarity?

But Seokjin’s diligence makes you diligent, too, which is why you’re standing in your kitchen, outnumbered by vegetables (ten to one, which means they could definitely kill you if given the chance—and opposable thumbs), a gigantic pot on your creaky gas stove, boiling soup swirling inside. Even though your kitchen is nowhere near the level of organized and systematic as the Chopped set, it certainly smells like it. Your cooking can hardly compare to Seokjin’s (you roughly chopped vegetables and put them in broth, he makes kimbap for fun), but, like all other aspects of your life, he rubs off on you, one way or another. 

Seokjin seems to think that this transference of his personality will apply to how he feels about love, too. But time can only work so much magic, and ever since freshman year of college, for the seven years you’ve known him, it’s always been like this. 

You let the soup simmer on your stove as you begin to pack up the food scattered on your counter, unsure when next you’re going to use it, especially since your daily meals usually consist of leftovers and, if you’re feeling exotic, stir-fry. It’s then that you hear the knock on your door, and you don’t even need to think before you’re scurrying over to pull it open, revealing Seokjin leaning over to peek happily into your peephole.  

“Look who it is, for a change,” you say sarcastically.

“You mean your favorite human being in the entire world who is about to take you to see his mom and enjoy a nice home-cooked mom meal?” Seokjin corrects obnoxiously, making you laugh as you let him inside. 

“You blackmailed me into this,” you remind him, pointing an accusing metal soup ladle his way. “You convinced me that you’re doing me a favor by treating me like someone you’d want to court, and tricked me into making an enormous pot of soup for your mother!” A lose-lose situation. 

“I am doing you a favor,” Seokjin defends. “Don’t you love having a doting, attractive young professional taking you out to fairs and ordering you take-out? This is what the beginning of a relationship is supposed to look like.” Emphasis on supposed to. “Also, I accompanied you to Cynthia’s wedding after she had been talking your ear off trying to get you to bring a plus-one, so…”

A dirty, dirty play. 

“Fine, you win,” you concede. You did really appreciate him coming, especially so last minute. “I better hear nothing but pure, unadulterated praise coming from your lips when you eat my soup, or else.”

“I would have showered compliments on your soup even if you hadn’t sent me a thinly-veiled threat,” Seokjin says proudly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Perhaps one that confused you a little less. 

You spend the entire car ride to Seokjin’s mom’s house (who lives forty-minutes out of the city) listening to him ramble on about how desperately his mother wants him to get married, settle down and have kids or a dog or two. The two of you still have half of your twenties to go, but the moment he graduated, Seokjin got a steady job and a nice apartment in the city, which immediately equates to marriage material. 

At least, that’s what his mom thinks. 

But those aren’t the sort of things that make Seokjin marriage material. You’ve known him for years. Ever since he first spoke to you, it was immediately obvious he was always the sort of perfect, dreamboat husband material that teenage girls fawn over, that characters in anime fantasize about. 

At the most basic level, Seokjin is goddamn attractive, and even if you’ve seen him in nothing but tighty-whities as a nervous eighteen-year-old, seen him with tomato sauce in his hair, seen him sick with a cold and strep throat, you can’t deny him that. He’d got the sort of looks that make people on the street take photos of him, thinking he’s a celebrity. 

But not only is Seokjin undoubtedly gorgeous, he’s an entire package. He’s an excellent cook, capable of impressing any and all parents, hilarious, charming and charismatic. Professional but never dull. He does his part in group projects, studies for his exams, listens to the music recommendations you give him even if they aren’t his style. The girls he dated in college knew exactly what they were doing when they went out with him. They were attempting to secure their future. It’s a shame none of them stuck, not like you, Elmer’s glue on his skin. 

Seokjin’s mom, the lovely woman she is, is under the impression that Seokjin became husband material when he graduated, got a job and moved to the city. But you know better than anyone—Seokjin’s always been husband material. Now, he’s just old enough that he knows he could be looking for himself. 

When you pull into Seokjin’s mom’s driveway, a little suburban home with a freshly-mowed font lawn and flowers by the mailbox, she’s already opening the front door and scurrying out, still wearing her slippers. 

“Eomma!” Seokjin says happily, getting out of the driver’s seat as she bounds towards him, the two of them wearing the same smiles on their faces. Like mother, like son. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long!” She chides, smacking him slightly. “You have to come and visit me more often. I don’t live that far away from you.”

“I’m busy, Ma,” Seokjin says with a roll of his eyes. “I have a job.”

“A job and no wife!” She exclaims, though her attitude immediately changes the moment you exit the car, pot of soup still warm in your hands. “Y/N!” 

She rushes over to give you a hug as well, albeit a much more careful one. She looks positively thrilled to see you. Seokjin’s mom has always liked you, even when you were an insufferable eighteen-year-old. They would invite you over for their Chuseok celebrations every year, and sometimes to their New Year’s Eve parties, if you were in the area over winter break. 

“No wife yet, Eomma,” Seokjin says. 

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” Seokjin’s mother tells you. She takes the pot from your hands wordlessly, refusing to listen to your protests as she shoos you both inside. 

The house smells of a home-cooked meal, savory and salty and sweet all at once, and you can see several dishes already laid out on the table. It’s both a familiar sight and scent, something you all too frequently experience whenever you barge into Seokjin’s apartment around mealtime. Seokjin immediately joins his mother in the kitchen, scrambling around to help her finish cooking, as you wait awkwardly by the table, easily the most inexperienced of the three of you. 

“Is this your soup?” His mother asks. 

“Yes, I thought to make some to bring tonight,” you say with a smile. Seokjin’s mother beams. 

“Delicious! Seokjinie always tells me how much he loves having it when he’s sick. You take care of him very well,” his mother grins. She places it on the stove, turning on the heat to warm it up. 

“Only because he does the same for me,” you say, sending a grin Seokjin’s way, one he returns instantly. 

The rest of the meal preparation (which doesn’t take long, especially with an extra pair of equally-gifted hands) goes by like this, Seokjin’s mother heaping compliments onto you as you stand there, helpless, watching as the two add the final dishes to the dining table. Seokjin dodges every question about his lack of engagement, always deflecting and shifting the topic to something you’ve done. Maybe this is why he wanted you around…

Finally, when dinner is ready, the three of you sit down, eager to pick up your chopsticks and dive in. 

“Seokjin’s father is away on business,” his mother explains after you note the empty place setting. “He sends his love!”

“I knew I was missing the dad jokes,” Seokjin says with a shake of his head. “Luckily, I can make up for them with my own.”

Seokjin’s mother laughs. “You must get a lot of this, don’t you?” She shoves an extra serving of fish onto your plate, letting it plop on top of the kimchi she had previously spooned onto the dish. “Eat, eat. I made it for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a smile. You’ll probably walk out of this house with a food baby the size of Jupiter. You always do. “And yes, but it’s nice. I like spending time with him.”

“Oh, thank God,” Seokjin says dramatically, a hand to his chest. “I was worried about that, for a second.”

“You two have always been inseparable,” his mother comments. “Don’t tell me this is why you haven’t married yet, Seokjin-ah.”

“What do you mean, Ma?” He asks over a mouthful of naengmyeon. “You know that I’m waiting to get married.”

Seokjin’s mother scoffs, shocked. “What? But Y/N’s right here! You two make an excellent couple.”

“Eomma!” Seokjin admonishes, even a little taken aback himself. You had no idea this was the secret plan his mother’s been plotting, all this time. It seems both you and him were just operating under the assumption that she was doing what all mothers do when their children are adults—dreaming out loud for grandchildren. 

“I’m sorry, did I misread something? You two are a couple, aren’t you?” His mother asks, positively bewildered. No wonder she’s been grilling Seokjin so hard about getting married. She had thought he was halfway there, already. 

You open your mouth to correct her, but your mind gets the best of you. Isn’t this what Seokjin wants? For people to think you’re a couple? For the true dating experience—are they, aren’t they? 

“No, Eomma,” Seokjin says, interrupting your thoughts. You turn to him, brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re just friends.”

Nobody mentions marriage, dating, or love for the rest of the meal. 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom once everyone is finished, Seokjin’s mother shooing you away from the kitchen sink, refusing to let you partake in any sort of clean up as the honorary guest. You’re glad to get away, the tension palpable and thick, looming over your heads, a reminder to all three of you that friends is all you have been, and friends is all you will ever be. Strangely enough, Seokjin had seemed the most disappointed out of all of you, even more so than his mother, whose dreams of grandchildren were crushed before her eyes. 

You wonder why. 

If Seokjin had been so adamant about the two of you calling yourselves a couple at the wedding, then why did he backtrack here? Was it his mother? Was it you? What could have made him change his mind?

As you walk back to the kitchen, you can hear the two of them having a conversation, hushed voices so as not to alert you. You take a step back from the entryway, hiding behind the wall to eavesdrop. 

“You must see the way she looks at you, Seokjin-ah,” his mother says. 

“No, Ma, that doesn’t mean anything,” Seokjin says, voice cold. 

“Yes it does, my boy,” she says. “Can’t you see it? The way she cares for you.”

“That’s just how it’s always been.”

“Seokjin-ah, please. You’re being stubborn.”

“Eomma, believe me, I know better than anyone else that we’re only ever going to be friends.”

“You don’t see it, then?” His mother’s voice is sad, helpless. “The way she loves you.”

You hear Seokjin suck in a breath, a deep, heavy inhale, weighed down by his thoughts. At that moment, you decide to round the corner, pretending like you haven’t hear a thing. 

“Y/N!” Seokjin’s mother exclaims happily. “Your soup was delicious. You’ll have to come over more often so I can keep having it.”

“I’ll have Seokjin send home a thermos with it,” you joke, lightening the tension you can still feel lingering in the air. 

“Ah, you’re too kind!” She says, sending you a warm smile. Seokjin hasn’t turned around from where he’s facing the sink, yellow rubber gloves up to his elbows as he scrubs the dishes clean. “Seokjin-ah, you must remember to bring Y/N more often. I love seeing her.”

“Yes, Eomma,” Seokjin says dutifully. When he finishes, he packs up the leftovers his mother is sending him home with, placing tupperware after tupperware into a plain brown bag. “Y/N, ready to go?”

“Yes, it’s getting late,” you say, the words stiff on your tongue. Seokjin seems closed off, bottled up. There’s something he’s not saying, and you can feel it weighing on his tongue. “it was lovely to see you again.”

“Of course!” Seokjin’s mother grins. “You must visit me again soon. I’ll be waiting!”

“Bye, Eomma,” Seokjin says as you head to the front door, pulling on your shoes as he opens the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Remember what I said, alright, Seokjin-ah?” His mother says, pulling him in for a hug. “You mustn't ignore what’s right in front of you.” You can’t help but wonder if maybe, you had overheard something you weren’t supposed to. 

In the car, you ask, “What was your mom talking about? When we were saying goodbye?”

Seokjin shrugs, nonchalant and calm. It’s so plain that it’s uncharacteristic of him. “Oh, nothing.” You hate not knowing what really lingers in his thoughts, rests deep in the pit of his heart. You want nothing more than to reach over and promise him that, no matter what, you’ll always be by his side. “She just wants me to look out for myself.”

Even on this clear night, the moon and stars visible above your heads, your mind (and heart) couldn’t be foggier. 

In your freshman year of college, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 had just been released on DVD, digital, and Blu-ray. Seokjin, the eighteen-year-old genius he was, had brought a projector to school that year, and so, one chilly November weekend, you and him set up in an empty lounge with a perfectly white wall and watched (spoiler alert) Voldemort get Avada Kedavra-ed at one in the morning. 

Ever since, monthly movie nights have been ingrained into your routine, even when Seokjin was in London for a semester in your junior year and you used a shady website so you could stream Netflix movies together. You think, that semester, you watched every Certified Rotten movie on Netflix possible, relishing in being able to joke about how terrible the films you were watching with your best friend. You almost thought you would break your tradition, just because of how difficult it was to organize. 

But still, you persisted. 

Of course, now, in the age of platform subscriptions and renting on YouTube, it’s a lot easier. Seokjin has a subscription to every movie-streaming platform under the sun, which means that by default, so do you. One of the many perks of having Seokjin as your best friend. 

As two mostly-functioning adults in the real world, this is how your movie nights typically go: you will alternate apartments as the designated living room of the weekend, the host is in charge of arranging a pre-show dinner, and the guest is in charge of bringing a bottle of wine as a gift. You eat dinner, drink wine, and watch a movie together, either on the couch, or, in emergencies, in bed. The host always chooses. Three years out of college and running, neither of you have been able to come up with a system more foolproof than this. 

Tonight, it is Seokjin’s turn to host, which you always prefer because he cooks dinner on his own instead of giving up and ordering takeout like you always do, and because his couch and bed are much more comfortable than your own. Not that you frequent his bed. Because you don’t. You just know that from your limited experience, it’s much more comfortable than your own bed. It’s probably his mattress. 

When you arrive at his apartment, his door is already cracked open, resting on the door frame as you can hear him whistling a tune you don’t recognize. Almost like he’s been expecting you, or something. 

“If you leave your door open like this, you’re gonna get robbed,” you announce, forgoing a hello as you barge inside, the apartment smelling of smokiness. “Whoa, what the hell are you cooking? Lava?”

“I accidentally set off the fire alarm,” Seokjin explains, back turned towards you as he bends down to pull something out of the oven. “That’s why the door’s open.”

“Oh, not because you were expecting a guest?” You tease, placing the bottle of wine on the counter as you join him in the kitchen. 

Seokjin turns around to reveal a baking dish with four chicken legs, drenched in a sauce that smells of spice and flavor, charred on the skin. Gourmet restaurants couldn’t even compare. 

“No,” he jokes. “I was gonna eat all of this food and drink this wine by myself.”

“Hey, that is my wine!” You shout, making grabby hands towards the neck of the bottle. Seokjin raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed, as he dishes up the food, two chicken legs a piece on some luxurious paper plates. “Fine, I guess we can share.”

“You know you can’t resist me,” Seokjin tells you, and you hate it, because it’s true. 

 As you finish up, washing the pots and pans as Seokjin puts away the various bottles of seasoning on his counter, some of which you can’t even name, he asks, “Couch or bed?”

You turn, scandalized, swatting him with a fork lathered with soap, “So forward!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Ugh, you know what I mean. You know I don’t mind where we watch our movie.”

(So long as he’s with you.)

You give the two options not another second worth of thought. You’re in the mood to lounge around on Seokjin’s terribly comfortable mattress tonight. You’ve had a rough past week at work, and sometimes, if you complain enough, Seokjin will massage your shoulders as you watch the movie. 

“Hmm… bed, please!” You say like a child, wrapping up the dishwashing as Seokjin grabs his laptop from the coffee table by the couch. You skip into his bedroom, giddy and only the tiniest bit wine-drunk, Seokjin following like the heavyweight best friend he is. 

Seokjin’s bedroom space has always felt so familiar to you. Plants along the windowsill, shelves with photos of his family, an enormous full-length mirror for gratuitous outfit-of-the-day pictures. Even in college, it felt this warm, this cozy. When you knocked on the wooden door of his dormitory at midnight to go out and get McDonald’s, coming back and gorging out on your McNuggets, it felt like this. 

People always say that your bedroom should be your little sanctuary, a home within a house. But instead of your own bedroom giving you that comfort, it’s Seokjin’s. Here, more so than anywhere else, you feel safe. Warm. Loved. There’s something magical to it. 

“What are we watching?” You ask happily, jumping onto his bed and grabbing the nearest plushie to hold onto. Seokjin plugs his laptop charger into the nearest outlet and sets it up on a couple of pillows for optimal viewing pleasure, the two of you leaning against a mountain of pillows as he pulls up Netflix. 

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, have you heard of it?” Seokjin asks, clicking play on the movie. 

You furrow your brows as you curl into him, letting your head rest on his chest. “Really? I thought you were gonna pick something cool, like Interstellar, or something. Not something my fifteen-year-old cousin loves.”

“First of all, your fifteen-year-old cousin has great taste,” Seokjin tells you, offended. “Secondly, just because this is a teenage romantic comedy doesn’t mean it’s any less cool than Matthew McConaughey in a spacesuit, okay?”

You’re still skeptical. The New York Times gave To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before a pretty decent review, but you have long outgrown your teenage coming-of-age romantic-comedy movie phase, even if you still quote Clueless regularly. As you’ve gotten older, your movie nights have transitioned away from young adult books turned into movies and more towards films that people like Lupita Nyong’o star in, movies with sad endings on purpose. So this is very out of character, especially for a movie junkie like Seokjin, who sends you weekly movie reviews of the latest indie divorce drama.

You snuggle in closer, accepting defeat. It is Seokjin’s turn to choose, after all. And you suppose, that after a long week of unforgiving work, you could use this time to unwind, mindlessly watch a movie geared towards high-schoolers instead of analyzing some unknown French historical drama. “Alright then,” you tell him. “I trust you.”

Famous last words. 

You always have a habit of putting your trust into your best friend at the absolute worst times. Example One: In junior year, when he swore that the new salad place on campus was delicious until you got food poisoning from their chicken. Example Two: The summer after you graduated, when he promised you that roller skating was “easy” and “fun”. Example Three: Two months ago, when he blackmailed you into letting him take you out on dates after promising to go with you to Cynthia’s wedding. 

Example Four: Right now, as you’re snuggled up together like two birds of a feather, watching two sixteen-year-olds agree to fake date for personal gain. And even though they’re high schoolers, and even though he’s going through with it to get back at an ex-girlfriend and she’s trying to recover from her disastrously-mailed love letters, it feels too similar to be something that Seokjin just happened to stumble upon. 

You turn to look up at Seokjin, the movie a distant hum in the background, hardly at the forefront of your mind, but he doesn’t spare you a second glance. Instead, he pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your torso as his fingers dance across your own, mindless. He doesn’t have a damn thing to say, a rarity in your relationship, letting the movie do the talking. 

I think it’s funny, the boy says as the two main characters sit in this absolutely ancient diner, you say that you’re scared of commitment and relationships, but you don’t seem to be afraid to be with me. 

Well, there’s no reason to be, the girl responds casually. Unbothered. 

Why’s that? He asks. 

She shrugs, nonchalant. Because we’re just pretending. 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tighten, feel his skin pressing against your own, the exposed part of your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. It’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you. The mere sensation, one you have felt hundreds, if not thousands of times before, sends shivers down your spine. 

“You cold?” He asks softly, pulling up the blanket that’s crumpled up by your feet, placing it gently over your bodies. 

You couldn’t care less about the movie playing in front of you. Not when Seokjin’s this close, not when he’s got his arms wrapped around you, not as you feel his soft breaths against your forehead, as he tucks you underneath a blanket. You’re frozen still next to him. You think that even your heart has stopped. 

Dozens of movie nights, but never one like this. Dozens of cuddle sessions, dozens of nights in. But this one feels brand new. 

Seokjin adjusts himself, turning in towards you. You can’t even feel yourself breathing. 

When did this start happening? You ask yourself. Why do your palms feel clammy? Why does his touch leave little embers along your skin? 

Traitorously, your mind responds, a question to a question. 

Hasn’t it always been like this?

Tuesdays have always been your least favorite day, because they’re Monday’s shitty cousin. They’re far enough into the week to have you not complain about it being the beginning of the week, but they’re too soon into the week to warrant any excitement about it ending. At least, when you wake up to go to work on a Monday, you know it’s a Monday. When you wake up to go to work on a Tuesday, you think it’s a Wednesday. Tuesday is the day of the week that wears a mask and tries to make you think it’s something else. 

After the printer jamming, salad dressing getting spilled on your pants, and your coworker losing his cool in the break room and breaking a cabinet door off of its hinges, you think that, when you get called into your boss’s office in the middle of the afternoon, there could be nothing worse for him to tell you. 

Instead, you walk out of his office with a brand new job title and a salary increase to match, positively ecstatic as you bounce all the way to your desk, whipping out your phone to text, well, who else?

[June 16, 2:43PM]

You: I GOT IT!!!

Seokjin: OMG SERIOUSLY?? Seokjin: CONGRATS YOU DESERVE IT !!!!

You: thank u jinie 8) now i can buy us more expensive wine for our movie nights

Seokjin: :D Seokjin: I’m so proud of you, you’re amazing!

And it’s the sort of text exchange that makes your heart soar, even more so than the promotion itself, because there is truly nothing more fulfilling than sharing your accomplishments with the people closest to you. 

You pack up later than usual that day, sitting at your desk for a little bit longer as you wrap up some emails and reorganize the space, determined to make it suitable for someone who just got a kick-ass raise. You’re leaning underneath your desk to gather your belongings, plopping your phone charger and a couple of nice blue pens into your bag, when you feel a sudden tap on your shoulder, scaring the absolute bejeezus out of you.

“Ow!” You shout as you bang the back of your head on the underside of your desk. Angry and in pain, you turn to face the asshole that’s just given you a bump on your scalp for the next week, only to find your expression lightening the moment you lay eyes on Seokjin, fresh from work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you say, “Oh.”

“Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Seokjin jokes, rolling his eyes as he reaches a hand out to help you up. “You alright? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Rubbing the nape of your neck, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m alright. You just caught me by surprise. What’s all this?” You ask as Seokjin reaches his hand towards you, the flowery scent permeating the air around you. The bouquet in his hand is a collection of various pastel-colored flowers, baby’s breath and lilies, carnations and hydrangeas. 

“A congratulations,” Seokjin says in lieu of any other sort of explanation. “You deserve it.”

“You make it sound like I’m pregnant,” you tell him, grabbing your bag as you double-check your desk, making sure you haven’t left anything behind. 

“Oh my God, are you?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. 

You laugh, shaking your head as you accept the flowers graciously, immediately holding them up to your nose. “No, I’m not, Seokjin. You’d be the first to know. But this is so sweet of you, you didn’t have to come to my work like this.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to pick you up for dinner?” 

Stopping in your tracks, you knit your brows together in confusion. “Dinner?”

“The reservation is at 5:45 so we’re already cutting it close,” Seokjin informs you, offering no explanation. “Come on. I had to pull a few strings to get this, so over my dead body will we arrive late.”

Seokjin reaches down to take your hand in his own, giving you no time to ask any more questions as he tugs you out of your office and into his little white Volkswagen, the scent of the flowers filling the air in between the two of you. 

When Seokjin somehow manages to get a parking spot a block away from the restaurant in question, your mouth practically drops open. 

It’s a cozy Lebanese place, complete with more plants you could ever dream of owning, and an outdoor patio decorated with warm fairy lights, lanterns hanging from strings above your head. It’s been ranked one of the best restaurants in the city for years now, and it is practically impossible to get a table (that is, unless you book a year in advance). 

“Seriously?” You ask, in awe, as Seokjin leads you towards the restaurant, the flowers resting safely on the passenger seat. 

“Of course,” Seokjin says like it’s nothing. “You deserve it.”

You aren’t a moment too late, the hostess happily seating the both of you at a corner table on the outside patio, the evening breeze sending flutters through your napkins as she hands you your menus and the wine list. 

“How did you swing this?” You ask, blown away as Seokjin grins. 

“Well, you know my friend, Yoongi?” He asks. You remember him, having met him a couple of times at Seokjin’s few-and-far-between house gatherings. He’s a dainty man with colorful hair who’s got the biggest alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen. “He’s a food critic, so I had him do me a favor…”

“You didn’t have to do all of that for me,” you say. Seokjin probably owes Yoongi his first-born child, now. 

“But I wanted to,” Seokjin says firmly. “What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t celebrate something like this with you?”

Seokjin must know, after all of these years, that you aren’t one to make a big deal out of things. That you vastly prefer staying inside, curled up with a good book or an even better best friend, over going out and getting wasted, over eating at a too-expensive restaurant with portions the size of your fingernail, because that’s who you are. And still, he insists, because that’s who he is. Someone who thinks that everybody deserves a little celebration in their lives, a little love from the people closest to them. 

“You’d be my best friend no matter what,” you tell him, because it’s true. Because Seokjin has always been and will always be that person: the one you’ll never second-guess. “Even if you had gone home after work and passed out on your couch, you’d still be my most favorite person.”

Seokjin grins. “I’m your favorite person?”

“Well, other than Yoongi,” you tease. “After all, he did get us this reservation.”

“Can’t believe that I’m second best to a friend you’ve met like, twice,” Seokjin says, mock-offended. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“You’ll find a way,” you muse. He always does. It’s incredible—ever since you met Seokjin, you don’t think anyone’s ever quite stacked up to him. Nobody has ever compared. 

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the two of you clinking your wine glasses together to celebrate your promotion, celebrate the night, celebrate being together. “You deserved that position more than anybody else.”

“You don’t even know half of my coworkers,” you joke. 

“But I know you,” Seokjin reminds you. “And I know that you’re the most hardworking, determined, focused person I’ve ever met. When you want something, you get it.”

“What?” You ask, a hand reaching out over the table to caress his own, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand. “You’re like that, too. You’re honest and real and certain.” They’re traits you’ve always admired about him, things that you wish you could be but know that you’ll never compare to him. 

“No,” Seokjin says, with a shake of his head. “I’m really not. I wish, though.”

Seokjin’s the truest person you know. What secret could he be keeping? Why hasn’t he told you? Doesn’t he know that you’d care for him, stay by his side no matter what? Not a damn thing in the world could ever make you leave him. 

Your waiter comes around to take your order, and you and Seokjin order a variety of appetizers that you fully intend on sharing with each other. You’ve never really been able to keep to your own plates. There is something so genuinely wonderful about sharing. Afterwards, Seokjin launches into this hilarious story about some old college friends that he had recently heard back from, ones that you’d met once or twice during university but never cemented a real friendship with, unlike Seokjin. 

Quite honestly, you couldn’t care less for them or what they’re doing, but Seokjin is so animated, so vivacious and excited to be telling you about them, that his words are music to your ears. Nothing makes you quite as happy as Seokjin when he smiles, when he laughs, when he’s fucking effervescent. His joy brings you joy, and you suppose that that’s really what it means to care for someone. To love them. When even something as simple as being in their presence makes your heart feel lighter. 

In the evening light, illuminated by the warm flame of the lanterns littering the sky above you, the fairy lights along the fence that encloses the patio, the house lights from the building next door, Seokjin glows. The way his body bounces as he speaks makes it look like a yellow halo surrounds him, his gold jewelry glinting when it catches the light, shimmering. He looks straight out of a movie, straight off of a red carpet, warm brown eyes and an honest smile to match, charismatic and golden and real. 

The craziest part is that he’s always looked like this. Always outshined everybody, no matter his surroundings. Every day, you wonder how on Earth you could have gotten so lucky to have been able to meet him. How blessed you are to be his best friend. How fortunate you are to love him. 

When your meal arrives, the two of you take a break from laughing aloud in this ambient, cozy restaurant, likely bothering all of the people within a twenty-feet radius of your table, and dig in, only emitting the occasional groan of pleasure. It’s no wonder this restaurant has been ranked the best in the city for years on end. Every bite explodes on your tongue, decorates your taste buds. You won’t be surprised if, next time you go over, Seokjin’s recreating every dish you have tonight. He’s always had a knack for it, anyway. 

“You know,” he says over a mouthful of zucchini, “you’re my favorite person, too.”

Normally you’d say something cheesy and dramatic, something along the lines of a sarcastic I’m touched or even a self-deprecating At least I’m number one at something, but instead, you smile softly to yourself. You always knew you and Seokjin were entwined with each other, but it makes your heart flutter to hear him say it for himself. 

“I know,” you murmur. “I’ll never forget that.”

“I don’t know, I just—” Seokjin begins, pausing. It’s not the sort of stop where he’s trying to figure out what words to say. He already knows. He’s just waiting to see if they’re the right ones. “You know, it’s always been you, Y/N. A lot of my life has always been uncertain, but you—you’re the only thing I’m always sure of.”

Afterwards, Seokjin walks you to the door of your apartment, the two of you lingering in the doorway, him refusing to leave and you refusing to say goodbye. 

“Don’t forget these,” Seokjin says, handing you the brown paper bag filled with your leftovers, various to-go boxes filled with treats. 

“What? I thought you wanted them,” you say, eyes wide. “Don’t you want them as reference for a recipe?”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin tells you with a shake of his head. “I’ll remember.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask. Seokjin nods, certain. He’s got a steely expression to him, one filled with determination. There’s something he’s not saying, and you’re almost positive it’ll come out tonight. Maybe he knows that you ate that Pop-Tart in junior year. Maybe he’s about to get his revenge. To protect yourself, you smile, telling him, “I had a really nice time tonight, Seokjin. You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Seokjin repeats. He need offer no other explanation. “Any excuse to spend time with you, I’ll take.”

You laugh. “I suppose that that’s what this whole pretend-dating thing is about, right?” 

Seokjin’s face goes blank.

“What?”

“Well,” you say, shrugging as you reach out to grab his hand. “Dinner tonight, isn’t that the sort of thing you’d do on a date? That’s why you took me out to celebrate instead of just bringing over some wine and takeout. I have to admit, you’re pretty good at this whole dating thing. Must be why you offered, right?”

“Y/N, I—”

“All of those romantic things you said, us playing footsie underneath the table, getting the reservation from Yoongi, I mean. You’ve always loved pulling out all of the stops. You’re giving me such unrealistic expectations for dating, you know?” You chide, grinning as you toy with Seokjin’s fingers amongst your own. Looking up at him, he looks frozen solid, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey, is everything alright?” Your hand trails up to his shoulder, forcing him to meet your eyes with his own. 

They’re swirling in ink. 

And then, he leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in, and presses his lips against your own. Shocked, you gasp into his mouth, feel the heat of his lips on yours as he kisses you, fervent and desperate, like he’s got something to prove. You feel your heart race, dropping the brown paper bag by your side on your hardwood floor as he presses in closer, insistent. It’s as if your entire body shuts down at his touch, at the feeling of him against you, on you, surrounding you. 

Eventually, your mind comes to, flickering back to life after being entirely short-circuited, and you pull out of his grasp, pushing him away with your palms against his chest, gasping for air. 

“Seokjin, what the—”

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” Seokjin tells you, and no longer does what he say sound like a line straight out of the Dating 101 Handbook. It sounds honest, and what once was something you treasured about him has morphed into fear, into words you dread coming from in between his lips. 

“No, that’s not—”

“What do you mean?” He asks, insistent. He takes a step towards you, and it makes you take a bigger step back. Being far away from him makes you ache, but being close to him is absolutely unbearable. It’s impossible to know which one your heart would prefer. “That’s how I feel. That’s how I’ve always felt.”

“I can’t—I need—” You stumble over your words, backing up into your living room, hand reaching out to the doorknob. You don’t know what you can’t do. You don’t know what you need. All you know is that your heart hasn’t stopped racing the moment his lips met yours, and that you aren’t sure what will happen if Seokjin stands outside your apartment any longer. “I just—”

“I know,” Seokjin says with a nod. His face is beet red and he looks just as breathless, sending your way a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know that you don’t feel the same. But I just—I wanted you to know.”

“I don’t know what I feel,” you whisper to yourself, eyes boring holes into your shoes. “How could I?”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching a hand out. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” you interrupt. “Don’t apologize. Just—please, just go. Please.”

Seokjin doesn’t protest. Not as you shoo him away, not as you begin to close the door in front of him. 

The door is nearly shut, barely inches away from the door frame, when you hear him call your name. “Y/N,” he says. If you were any more heartless, you’d shut the door, let the last thing you hear from him be your own name. But you aren’t, and not once have you ever closed the door on Seokjin. Not now. Not ever. 

“Yes?” You whisper, terrified of what he might say but too desperate to avoid it altogether. 

You hear him hiccup. You don’t want to see him cry. 

“You’re my best friend.”

(Kim Seokjin prides himself for being a man of few mistakes. He has good time-management skills, triple checks his entire apartment every time he leaves, and only illegally parks in the fire lane when he knows he won’t get a ticket. He’s got great foresight, makes educated decisions, and generally feels as though everything he does will benefit somebody, in the long run. 

You always tell him that you envy how put-together his life is, how picture perfect it seems—stable job, nice apartment, meals prepped and ready to go in his fridge. And even if you aren’t nearly as obsessed with falling in love as he is (and he’s willing to admit that, at least), you tell him that it’s admirable that he has all of this time to go on dates with women he’s met off of Bumble or through a friend of a friend, making an effort to go out into the world and do something with his love life. 

The truth is, Seokjin has been on more dates in the past year than to work events in the evenings and on weekends, but he’s never seen the same person twice. Sometimes, he ends up with a phone number punched into his contacts and a promise to meet again as friends, but most of the time they pat him on the back after it’s over and tell him that they hope he’ll get over his ex soon. 

Seokjin hasn’t had a real ex, a real breakup, since sophomore year of college, when his long-distance girlfriend from high school told him she couldn’t bear to listen to him how much he loves his new best friend any longer. 

It doesn’t take a genius to guess who that best friend is. 

Seokjin’s always been sort of foolish, a little too forward at the best of times and terribly obvious at the worst of times. Always holding out hope that maybe one day you’ll pick up on all of his slip-ups, and he’ll stop acting like a bumbling idiot around you. 

Admittedly, he had gotten pretty fed-up by the time he invited you to dinner to celebrate your promotion. He rolled up to your office in a silk button down and a bouquet of the nicest flowers Hoseok could find, brought you to a restaurant you had been dying to go to ever since you moved to the city, and told you that you were the one constant in his life. And he thought that maybe, just maybe, you would realize. And he wouldn’t have to do everything by himself. 

It’s a wonder that you hadn’t figured it out. 

At least, not until you said goodbye to him, standing underneath the wooden door frame to your apartment, and he leaned down and kissed you. 

Seokjin is a man of few mistakes, but he’s almost positive that that one was the most costly. He had been psyching himself up in his head the entire ride home, telling himself I can do it, I’m gonna tell her, what’s the worst you could do? 

As it turns out, the worst you could do is reject him. 

Seokjin knows you don’t feel the same way. He doesn’t need to go on any dates, doesn’t need to read any more novels or watch any more movies to know that. Maybe you had known all along, you just never knew how to let him down easy. Maybe you were just hoping that if you never acknowledged it, it would go away, age like fine wine, bottled up for an eternity. 

But when he was standing in the flower shop, lingering behind the counter as Hoseok insisted he knew the perfect bouquet to make, there was a little spark in his heart that thought, maybe. Just maybe. 

“Think she’ll like it?” Seokjin had asked hesitantly, fingers curling around one of the petals of the lilies in the bouquet as Hoseok rang him up. 

“What do mean, of course she will!” Hoseok says. He has long been witness to Seokjin’s fruitless efforts to get you to see how he feels. “She’d be a fool not to realize.”

Seokjin’s never been sure if you were the fool, or if he has been, all along. 

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” he had said with a sigh, handing over his credit card. “I feel like telling her might be the wrong move.”

“Why? From what it sounds like, you two are really close,” Hoseok had asked innocently. He even shimmied in a tulip, squeezing it into the middle of the bouquet with nimble fingers. “Are you afraid she’ll say no?”

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin everything,” Seokjin had told him. He’d rather keep you close as a best friend than lose you entirely in the hopes of confessing. That has always been his priority. It always will be. 

Hoseok had laughed, disbelieving. Seokjin had bitterly assumed that he’s never been in love with a best friend. It sucks hard, but Seokjin was in no position to ruin Hoseok’s day by telling him that. “You won’t ruin everything, Jin. You’re a wonderful guy with a great personality. I think it’s worth telling her, you know?” Seokjin did not know. “Like, if you don’t, you’ll never know what could have been.”

And perhaps that was the reason that he leaned down to press his lips against yours. On the off chance, the miniscule possibility that you might feel the same way. His mother had been absolutely insistent that you were in love with him, and while he trusts his mother’s instincts, Seokjin’s known you much longer and much closer than she ever will. And you were never in love with him. Friends is all you have ever known with him. It’s all that the two of you will ever be. 

You’re lucky, Seokjin thinks as he sulks around in his apartment, having decided to give your relationship some space after he completely annihilated it the Tuesday prior. Unrequited love isn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy. It’s a ray of sunshine surrounded by clouds. It’s the constant reminder that even though what you already have will never be enough, losing it entirely is a fate much worse. 

On the bright side, at least you still tag him in Facebook memes.

Seokjin gets a phone call from an unknown number that Saturday evening, as he cooks a meal for one and pretends that his apartment doesn’t feel bone-crushingly empty without you to fill up the space. He lets the phone ring all the way through the first time—he’s not in the mood to bait those scammy telemarketers tonight, and gets back to cooking. And then his phone rings a second time, same number, and suddenly Seokjin feels as though it might be something urgent. What if it’s a coworker whose number he doesn’t have? Oh God, what if it’s his boss?

“Hello?” Seokjin asks, picking up the call and holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. 

“Seokjin?”

It’s Cynthia.

“Cynthia?” Seokjin asks, just to make sure he’s not wrong. “How did you get my number?”

“I looked you up on the White Pages,” Cynthia tells him. Oh, yes. He forgot that that existed. “I would have asked Y/N, but she would have gotten suspicious.”

“Oh, uh…” Seokjin hesitates, chuckling nervously. “Y/N? Have you, uh, spoken to her recently?”

Cynthia lets out a deep sigh on the other end, what sounds like a billion thoughts weighing her down. “Yeah, she and I had a girls’ night last night. My husband’s away on business.”

“Oh, how are you both doing?” Seokjin asks. He has the decency to pretend that he hasn’t been positively miserable the past few days.

“Wonderful, thanks,” Cynthia said. “Seokjin, did you kiss Y/N?”

“It was a mistake,” Seokjin immediately says. He shouldn’t have done it and now he’s paying the price. He has no idea how long it will take to repair your relationship, or, even worse, if you’ll just go back to the way it was before and pretend it never happened in the first place. “I wanted to tell her that, but I haven’t seen her recently.”

“Don’t,” Cynthia says harshly, making Seokjin jump a bit, wincing as some hot steam hits his bare skin. “Don’t tell her it was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin frowns. Isn’t that what you want? It’s blatantly obvious that you don’t really want a relationship at all, let alone with him. Seokjin doesn’t know what he was thinking when he thought he could change your mind. He was just being selfish. The chance to get to date you under the guise of guidance, and he snatched it up at the first opportunity. 

Well, look at him now. 

“She’ll be heartbroken if you tell her that,” Cynthia tells him, and Seokjin nearly pours boiling hot water all over his arm at the words. “You can’t.”

“What do you mean, heartbroken? She doesn’t want to date me. I’m the one in love with her. I’m the one who should be suffering,” Seokjin says into the phone, his heart starting to race. He wills himself to calm down, to act like everything is normal, but he can’t stop thinking about you. About what Cynthia had said. 

“No, you’re wrong,” Cynthia says. “You couldn’t be more wrong even if you tried. You might be in love with her but she loves you back. She does, I swear.”

Seokjin’s brain nearly short-circuits, the power sparking. “What?” He asks, too hopeful for his own good. “She can’t. I’ve loved her for so long, but we’ve always just been friends. That’s what she wanted.”

“She wants you, Seokjin,” Cynthia says firmly, almost as if she’s reaching through the phone to knock some sense into him. “She didn’t realize that she loved you until you kissed her. And then everything fell into place.”

“You’re lying,” Seokjin says, even though he knows that Cynthia isn’t. 

“Want to know why she hasn’t really dated anyone since midway through college?”

Is it the same reason Seokjin hasn’t, either?

“She was waiting for you,” Cynthia tells you. “She just didn’t know it.”

Seokjin’s about to faint. 

He can hear Cynthia smiling through the phone. “She’s always been waiting for you.”)

[June 21st, 1:22PM]

Seokjin: I’m on my way over to your apartment Seokjin: Don’t ask questions

You’ve long learned by now to listen to Seokjin, to never question his methods. And for once, when you receive a suspicious text out of the blue that says Don’t ask questions, you aren’t scared. You’re thrilled. 

The last time you went this long without contacting each other was when you were just starting to become friends in college, during orientation week where you met five hundred people a day and forgot all of them by the next morning. You and Seokjin eventually caught up with each other when you started seeing each other in the halls of your dorm, living onto a few doors down from each other. 

You didn’t want to be the one to initiate contact. Seokjin had kissed you and then instantly looked like he regretted the entire thing. He had been sitting on his feelings long before you knew that yours even existed. He deserved the space. 

You, well. Cynthia, the wise, wedded woman she is, seems to think that communication is key. Perhaps that’s why she’s been so successful in her love life. 

There’s a knock on your door six minutes after you received the text, the fastest he’s ever gotten to your apartment. 

When you open it, you find a familiar sight: Seokjin, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and a nervous grin on his face, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like a teenager about to ask his crush to the school dance. 

“Long time no see,” you tell him. 

“I missed you,” Seokjin says honestly. “I really, really did.”

“I did, too,” you tell him. It’s impossible to be away from him. You figured that out briefly when he went abroad in junior year, but were brutally reminded this past week what life is like without him to light it up. And it’s dull. Empty. Missing something. 

“These are for you,” Seokjin says. It’s an entire bouquet of tulips, red and yellow and orange and pink. The scent immediately wafts through the air, brightening up your sullen apartment. 

“They’re beautiful, Seokjin,” you tell him, pressing your nose against the petals as you take in the aroma. The flowers are gorgeous, but Seokjin, as always, steals the show. 

“I was going to bring takeout, but then I thought that you might have already eaten lunch,” Seokjin tells you. 

“Then we can do takeout for dinner,” you suggest as an alternative, fishing through your kitchen cabinets for a vase to put out on your countertop, filled with the tulips and carnations and lilies and hydrangeas. The bouquet he had given you on Tuesday is sitting in your bedroom, and you’re giving it all the plant food you can get your hands on, determined to make them last. 

“You want me to stay for dinner?” Seokjin asks, an eyebrow raised. 

It’s high time you were honest, too. 

“I want you to stay forever,” you admit, and it feels as though the dam has broken, like the first droplet has been spilled and the rest is soon to follow. “I can’t tell you how much I hated being away from you like this. Everything in my life revolves around you.”

“I think about you, every day,” Seokjin says as he comes up to you, joining you in the kitchen as you fill an oversized mason jar with water. “Scratch that. Every hour. Every minute, every second. You’re always on my mind.”

“I thought that was just how you were best friends with someone,” you tell him, feeling the warmth of his body as he stands next to you. “I thought that all of the kind gestures, the traditions, the words, that was what being best friends was. And it is. But I never realized that that was what being in love was like, as well.”

“I thought you’d never figure it out,” Seokjin muses, and it sounds so sad but he looks so happy. “I was ready to never tell you. I was too nervous, every time I’m near you I get all sweaty.”

“You were just going to be in love with me forever?” You ask, turning to him. The thought devastates you, the idea that he was willing to never tell you, to love you silently, for the rest of time. He would have never known what could have been, would have never allowed himself that luxury. And he was okay with it.

“I would rather love you on my own than lose you,” Seokjin tells you firmly. “You’re my best friend. That will never change.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Seokjin interrupts. “I had made that decision. I was willing to live with it.”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” You ask, reaching out to hold his hand in your own, as you have done so many times before, and will do so many times more. The feeling never gets old. The spark never fades. “When they’re in love.”

“I don’t know how you never noticed,” Seokjin jokes, laughing more at himself than you. “I thought I was being so goddamn obvious. Any time I said or did anything that even slightly alluded to the fact that I was in love with you, I started panicking because I thought you’d figure me out. And you never did.”

“I think I just needed a bit of coaxing,” you tell him, hand reaching up to turn his face towards you, palms resting on your cheek. “I would have loved you, forever. I just needed you to tell me that you’d love me, forever, too.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Seokjin promises with a grin. “I’ll love you forever and a day.”

Seokjin leans down, big palms resting on your waist as he finally, fucking finally, presses his lips against yours. It’s soft and warm and cozy, the heat enveloping you as you hold his cheeks in your hands, let him push closer and closer, refusing to let you go. The feeling sends warmth through your veins, sparks a fire in your body that you wouldn’t will away even if you wanted to. Seokjin kisses you, and you kiss back, and it feels like a promise. With your lips against his, and his against yours, you tell each other, that you were meant to be together, and that you always will be. 

You had always wondered why you were never really interested in dating anyone. Never wanted to find someone new, a relationship filled with love and laughter and joy, never wanted to go out on fancy dates and tiptoe around each other, a nervous confession on the tips of your tongues. But now, as Seokjin giggles into another kiss he presses against your lips, you know: you already had exactly what you were looking for. 

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[ibijau]

here we go, last fic of the year! It’s Lan Sizhui/Jin Ling, a/b/o, set in the same universe as Petrichor, but can be read as a stand alone :)

Someday, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are going to get married.

It is not something that anybody really talks about, and more an accepted fact of life. They have been friends for as long as they can remember, they are both in good position for being sect leader after Lan Xichen, they work well as a team. At fifteen, Lan Sizhui presented as an alpha. Some months later, Lan Jingyi surprised everyone by presenting as an omega, and that settled things. People around them started talking about them as an established couple in spite of their youth, because they’d never have been so close if they were not somehow fated, right?

Neither of them minds. Not really. It’s convenient for everyone after all.

“It’s not like I’m what anyone wants in an omega,” Lan Jingyi points out when, one day, Lan Sizhui asks him if he’s really okay with that. “Aside from you, I’ve never met an alpha I didn’t want to punch in the face after five minutes. Even betas I can barely stand.”

“Hanguang-Jun too?”

“Hanguang-Jun is way above everyone else, beta or alpha or anything,” Lan Jingyi protests. “I guess I could marry him, if he wanted…”

Grimacing at the thought, Lan Sizhui elbows his friend in the ribs, but that only makes him laugh.

“I’d become your new dad,” Lan Jingyi insists with starry eyes. “Would you call me dad, daddy, or father?” 

Lan Sizhui rolls his eyes. He should have known that his friend wouldn’t take the conversation seriously. Still, he feels a little better about the situation. Lan Jingyi isn’t without his faults, but he isn’t one to bottle up his emotions. If he really minded that everyone assumes they’re an item, he would have jumped on the chance to say so.

That’s good enough for Lan Sizhui. He doesn’t want romance. He’s seen what he did to his father, to his uncle, leaving one branded by shame and the other broken for years. It just doesn’t feel worth the trouble. What Lan Jingyi and him have isn’t the stuff of great stories, sure, but it’s stable and it's safe. Security is far more important than something as ridiculous as love.

-

 When Lan Sizhui is nineteen, there starts being talk of making their engagement into something formal. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren ask them to give it serious consideration. They are both orphans, so there is no direct pressure put on them, but Lan Sizhui gets the impression that Lan Qiren at least is particularly in favour of the match. Neither of his nephews has had children, and they're unlikely to ever do, between Lan Wangji's character and Lan Xichen's delicate situation. Lan Sizhui isn't a Lan by blood, but he is well liked by juniors and elders alike. Lan Jingyi doesn't have that diplomacy, but he is a cousin to the Lan jades. If they get together, it would avoid the risk of disputes when the time comes to choose a new sect leader: they can just rule conjointly and leave it at that. Lan Xichen is less insistent than his uncle, and says it's important they choose carefully. It's clear, though, that he doesn't disagree with Lan Qiren's position.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji doesn’t like this.

He doesn’t say so, because he wants Lan Sizhui to make his own choices in life, and he will support his son through anything as long as it is not endangering his life. Still, he radiates disapproval when Lan Sizhui reports on that conversation with his uncle and great-uncle.

Most people wouldn’t guess, but Lan Wangji is a romantic at heart.

Lan Sizhui isn’t. 

Well. He tries hard not to be.

But now that this engagement business is turning into something serious, he’s a little less sure about it.

It is nice, of course, to know exactly what the future holds. There's comfort in that. Lan Sizhui likes knowing what to expect, he likes safety, he likes knowing that tomorrow will be very much like today.

And he loves Lan Jingyi of course. They’ve been friends for years, and they know each other better than anyone else. But it’s not the sort of love that makes them want to kiss and get in bed together. He’s sure of that, because they’ve tried kissing once or twice, to see how that’d feel, and it was just weird. Lan Jingyi's smell, like grass freshly cut and summer warmth, doesn't evoke any strong desire in him. That's a problem because if they get married, they’ll have to make love. And it’s not that Lan Jingyi is ugly or misshapen or anything, but the idea doesn’t sit right. All Lan Sizhui can hope for is that when they’re bonded, once his ruts and Lan Jingyi’s heats coincide, it’ll sort itself out.

(that still leaves the issue of that initial bonding, but if Lan Sizhui doesn’t think about it, then it’s not an issue)

It’s a comfort of sorts when the morning after they talked to Lan Qiren, Lan Jingyi looks as awkward about the situation as Lan Sizhui feels.

“Are we really doing this?” Lan Jingyi whispers to him, even though they’re in class and really shouldn’t be talking at all, least of all about something like that.

“If you want,” Lan Sizhui replies, his voice as low as possible to avoid attracting Lan Qiren’s attention. “We still have time to decide.”

“Yeah, right. I mean, it could be worse, right? We get along fine, we know that already.”

It is a blessing indeed. Most people in their position would just be dumped into an arranged marriage, and consider themselves lucky to not end up with someone they despise.

Still, Lan Sizhui is glad that they don’t have to give an answer right away.

-

When they meet Jin Ling on Dafan Mountain, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi immediately agree that he is a bit of a spoiled brat.

It’s no surprise of course. The only heir to a sect like Lanling Jin, with also some rights over Yunmeng Jiang? It would have taken the world’s best parents to prevent that boy from being a little rotten, and as everyone knows well, Jin Ling doesn’t have parents.

In truth, Lan Sizhui feels a little sorry for him, not least of all because that boy is related to Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Sizhui pities anyone who must deal with that man on a regular basis. Only a truly awful person could be so disliked by Lan Wangji.

It’s also quickly apparent that Jin Ling is, for lack of a better term, a little awkward. He reacts to Lan Jingyi’s light teasing as if he was being insulted (in fairness, Lan Jingyi sometimes walks a fine line between the two, and he’s a little on edge after that business in Mo village) and takes himself far too seriously. He is also impossibly stubborn, and surprisingly reckless for someone so aware of his own self-importance.

“What a brat that was,” Lan Jingyi complains on the way back to Cloud Recesses. “No need to question what he’ll present as, he’s got alpha written all over his face.”

“No gossiping,” Lan Sizhui reminds him, his eyes darting toward Lan Wangji who, thankfully, pays them no mind. All his attention is on that lunatic he has decided to protect from Jiang Wanyin. “And you can’t go guessing at people’s fate like that. Sect leader Lan doesn’t look like an omega, does he? You just never know until it’s there.”

Lan Jingyi takes a moment to consider that.

“He is spoiled and prissy enough that he could be an omega,” he concedes, as if that’s the point Lan Sizhui was trying to make. “Still, I’m betting on alpha, and a very annoying one at that. I hope we never have to see him again.”

“Sect Leader Jin has no child of his own, so Jin Rulan is his heir. Of course we’re going to see him again.”

The face Lan Jingyi makes at the news is such that Lan Sizhui can’t help laughing a little too loud. Lan Wangji turns to look at him, curious more than scolding. That odd man on the donkey, Mo Xuanyu, also looks at them as if he wants to join in the fun, but dares not because of Lan Wangji keeping a close eye on him.

It’s funny, Lan Sizhui thinks. His father doesn’t usually care much about people. He likes the juniors, especially all the ones whose education he had a part in, but people he meets when they’re already adults, or people close to his age… if at all possible, Lan Wangji just ignores them. Maybe he feels sorry for Mo Xuanyu, who seems to have had a rough life? Or maybe it’s something else. Mo Xuanyu has an eccentric personality, but Lan Sizhui too can’t help feeling a certain sympathy for this very odd omega.

-

They meet Jin Ling again far sooner than Lan Sizhui would have expected, and if betting weren't forbidden, Lan Jingyi would have won. In the short time since they saw him, Jin Ling has presented as an alpha. 

It's no surprise, of course. Although there are exceptions, people born within the main branch of a clan are almost always alphas, at least for the first few children. Aside from sect leader Lan who is an omega and sect leader Nie who is a beta, even within the smallest sects there's hardly any ruler that's not an alpha. 

It does make a complicated situation a little worse. Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi and a group of juniors were on a trip to a Night Hunt when they started being led astray by dead cats and mysteries. They then met juniors from other sects, as well as Jin Ling, travelling alone, who immediately tries to be in charge. Lan Sizhui calmly puts an end to that. It's not unusual for a young alpha, especially one still getting used to changes in their body. He can't even control his smell at all, sweet and flowery with a hint of spice which Lan Jingyi complains is making him nauseous.

It's all normal, of course. Lan Sizhui too had a brief phase where he tested everyone's patience. So for Jin Ling who is already hot-headed and proud… 

To make it worse, Lan Jingyi won't stop arguing with Jin Ling. They can't go five minutes without getting into a fight of some sort. They snap at each other about the road to take, the inn to stay at, how loud Jin Ling's dog barks, Mo Xuanyu's donkey, whether to warn their respective sects or not… If a disagreement can be had, they will have it. 

At first, Lan Sizhui tries to intervene. Someone has to make sure that these two don't throttle each other. He knows that Lan Jingyi is no delicate flower and can take anyone in a fight, but he still has a responsibility as the oldest alpha present, so he gently puts Jin Ling in his place when needed. Surprisingly, Jin Ling usually backs off pretty easily once Lan Sizhui gets involved in a dispute. Lan Sizhui really expected that they would come to blows at least once. That too would be normal, especially since Jin Ling is obviously aching for a chance to prove himself, but it never happens. 

After a few days, Lan Sizhui doesn't bother stopping the fights anymore. Jin Ling shouts a lot and plays tough, but he never displays any sign of real aggression towards anyone. If anything he seems to have fun when Lan Jingyi and him argue with each other, and the opposite is just as true. 

Maybe that's just how Jin Ling plays, Lan Sizhui figures. He really is a very awkward boy after all. Already back on Dafan Mountain he was so brash and haughty with everyone. He was also alone back then, with only his uncle and other adults around him. Now too, he is the only one who doesn't have anyone from his clan with him. He has his dog, sure, but that's not the same. 

"Be nice to him," Lan Sizhui tells Lan Jingyi after yet another dispute, one where he had to intervene for the first time in a while. "I don't think he has a lot of friends." 

"You bet he doesn't. He treated Ouyang Zizhen like dirt just because he's a beta! Who'd want to be friends with someone like that? He could be tolerable if he just stopped acting like such a little mistress, but I guess that's too much to ask. Between the two of us, you wouldn't think I'm the omega." 

It's a little unkind to both boys, but part of Sizhui almost agrees. Lan Jingyi has never really behaved the way people expect an omega to do, and as for Jin Ling… with his pretty, boyish face, his elegant flowery smell, and the way he always backs off the instant Lan Sizhui gets involved in a fight, he could somewhat feel like an omega. 

Except he only behaves like that with Lan Sizhui. With everyone else, he pushes for dominance as much as he can, and he's so stubborn, from a sect so powerful, that even older alphas in their group have started bowing to him. 

It's weird, really. Lan Sizhui doesn't know what to make of it. 

"He'll never learn to play nice if you don't show him how," Lan Sizhui says after some thought. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're the one starting half those fights. If you don't like him, just stay away. It's wrong to pick fights without reasons." 

Lan Jingyi shrugs, which is against the rules because it is insolent. 

“He likes it when I bother him,” Lan Jingyi boldly accuses. “Being half raised by someone like Jiang Cheng…”

“Jiang Wanyin.”

“Raised by someone like Jiang Wanyin in a place like Lotus Piers, that little mistress must think shouting at people is how you behave around others. Don’t you remember how his uncle was on Dafan mountain? Scolding him and telling him to succeed at his hunt or die trying, and then coming to save him at the first sign of trouble… no wonder the little mistress is so annoying, he learned from the best.”

That had struck Lan Sizhui as well, mostly because of the risks Jin Ling had been willing to take after being shouted at. As if he really feared that his uncle wouldn’t let him come home again if he couldn’t kill the monster. He can’t imagine being uncertain of his family’s love like that. Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, and even Lan Qiren would never, ever threaten Lan Sizhui in such a manner, and even if they did he would know better than to take the words literally.

He really feels sorry for that boy.

“Just try to be nicer,” he insists. “Teach by example. He’ll be sect leader someday, we really shouldn’t be antagonising him this way.”

The sect leader argument works. It usually does. Lan Jingyi promises to make an effort.

There’s no argument until early afternoon the next day and in fairness to Lan Jingyi, that does count as progress.

-

Yi-City is not a fun place, not by far. There’s thick billowing fog, there’s fierce corpses, half their group gets poisoned, Mo Xuanyu tricks them into eating the worst food they’ve ever tasted by calling it a cure… Lan Sizhui isn’t one to complain (it is against the rules) but he comes very, very close a few times. 

When it’s over, he tells himself that it’s a great learning experience. Mo Xuanyu is eccentric, but definitely not mad, and he knows far more about fighting evil than anyone Lan Sizhui has ever met, except maybe Lan Wangji. He is a little… brusque with them, pushing around the group of juniors and clearly delighting in scaring them a little if he feels it’s good for their education. But he is kind as well. He’s trying to hide it, but there’s a certain gentleness in the way Mo Xuanyu behaves around Jin Ling that he doesn’t really have with the rest of them.

To Lan Sizhui’s surprise, the reverse is equally true. Jin Ling grumbles and complains and stomps his foot, but he seems to like Mo Xuanyu and tries to help him whenever the chance arises. Seeing these two interact makes something go a little soft in Lan Sizhui’s chest. 

It’s nice when family can reconnect.

-

After everything that happened in Yi City, Lan Wangji allows them a little celebration. They get to burn colourful paper money and to organise a little party of sorts at an inn, without any adult supervision, too. Lan Wangji and Mo Xuanyu have retired for the night, presumably to discuss everything that has happened and decide on their next move. Lan Sizhui half wishes he could be involved in that conversation, but that’s mostly because he knows he’s supposed to want to be serious and grown up. In truth, being down here in the dining room with the others is a lot more fun.

While all the other juniors mingle together, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui find themselves at a table a little away from the rest, in the company of Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling.

“We’re all future Sect Leaders, so it makes sense to sit together, right?” Ouyang Zizhen explains, boldly glossing over the fact that his sect is nowhere near the size of theirs. “And from here, we’ve got a good view of the entire room, so we can make sure that nobody misbehaves.”

“I never realised you were so serious,” Lan Jingyi sneers. “Senior Mo complimented you once, so now you want to be praised by him again?”

“You’re just jealous,” Ouyang Zizhen retorts with a grin. “Who is that man, anyway? He’s not dressed like any sect I know, but for Hanguang-Jun to respect him like this…”

“He’s just some crazy loon,” Lan Jingyi claims. “We met him a while back.”

Then, since Ouyang Zizhen expresses interest, Lan Jingyi starts telling him the whole story of their encounter with Mo Xuanyu. Lan Sizhui, who was there, allows himself to check out from the conversation and eats a little. He is startled when after a few moments, someone drops mushrooms in his bowl. 

"Don't like those," Jin Ling huffs. "And you ate yours first." 

"They're my favourite," Lan Sizhui admits, a little embarrassed at being caught like that. Being a picky eater and indulging in preferences is frowned upon, but he is only human.

"Can't see why," Jin Ling mutters. "They're slimy and disgusting. Do you want the rest of mine as well?" 

It's a testament to how engrossed he is in his conversation with Ouyang Zizhen that Lan Jingyi doesn't pick up on that extremely rude offer. Lan Sizhui almost wants to remark on Jin Ling's manners, but decides against it and just nods. It's obvious the other boy is trying to be nice, and that must be encouraged. 

After the mushrooms are unceremoniously dumped in Lan Sizhui's bowl, Jin Ling insistently stares at him while he eats. He looks angry, but Lan Sizhui has figured by now that's just his normal face. 

“Earlier… you fought decently,” Jin Ling suddenly says, in a tone that makes it sound like it hurts him to say even that weak of a compliment.

“You did well yourself,” Lan Sizhui replies far more earnestly. Lan Wangji has taught him the importance of encouraging good behaviours rather than to just punish bad ones, and Jin Ling is definitely making an effort here. Besides, he did fight surprisingly well, considering his age. “I hope we can go on more Night Hunts together. Although perhaps next time, let’s go somewhere a little less dangerous, at least until we’re experienced enough.”

Jin Ling's face does something funny, like he's happy and angry at the same time. It's kind of cute, if Lan Sizhui is honest.

"Oh we should all four go Night Hunting together!" Ouyang Zizhen exclaims. "We're friends now, right?" 

"That sounds right," Lan Sizhui quickly agrees before Jin Ling has a chance to say something rude. "I know I'd love to spend more time with the two of you. Hopefully next time, we won't be put in mortal danger." 

Lan Jingyi laughs at that, but more importantly Jin Ling begrudgingly admits that he too wouldn't be against another inter-sect Night Hunt, even though he looked ready to protest when it was Ouyang Zizhen offering it. It seems he really respects Lan Sizhui's authority as an older alpha though, and that's extremely flattering. 

-

The next time they see each other they are, in fact, in mortal danger again. 

It bothers Lan Sizhui less than it should, but only because there's something odd about this cave they're trapped in. Some of the other juniors trapped with them say this is the Burial Mounds, but that's… There's such an air of familiarity to this place, and yet Lan Sizhui knows he's never come here before. Unlike some others in his generation, Lan Wangji has never been one to go on grimly triumphant pilgrimages to those places where the cultivation world rose as one against evil. Lan Sizhui has never seen Yiling, nor even Nightless City.

Still, this cave… it shouldn’t be so bare, nor so silent. There is a wrongness to that silence. Lan Sizhui cannot explain why, but he feels like this place should have more life to it.

He cannot explain either why it seems so right to see Mo Xuanyu… ah, no, Wei wuxian step inside, followed by his Ghost General and Lan Wangji. Something falls in place inside Lan Sizhui’s soul, a certain sensation that things are as they should be. Seeing these three together, in this place… Lan Sizhui half wants to cry, and he can’t explain why.

That unbidden and unexplained surge of emotions must be why he eventually snaps at one of Jin Ling’s cousins. Lan Sizhui feels a little guilty over it, although in fairness, that boy deserves his anger. He insulted Hanguang-Jun, which was unacceptable, and Wei Wuxian which… for some reason was equally unpleasant. And for the entire time they’d been there, Jin Chan had been irritating, somehow unable to say two words without finding a reason to be mean to everyone around him, especially to Jin Ling.

Of course Lan Sizhui lost patience. He doesn’t like when people are cruel to his friends.

-

That protectiveness becomes a problem a few hours later.

So much has happened in a short span of time, they’ve been rescued, they’ve been attacked, there have been accusations and betrayal, there’s been…

Lan Sizhui feels sick to his bones when the bloodied corpses of dead Wens emerge from a bloody pond to protect Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning, but not in the way he thinks he’s supposed to feel sick. His chest aches looking at those horrifying shapes, and if Lan Jingyi hadn’t stopped him, he would have walked to them because if he could just see their face, if he could take their hands… but he doesn’t get the chance, and they crumble into dust before he can figure out why those dead people felt like they were his, just like Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian do.

Lan Sizhui is still confused when they get down the mountain to climb onto some boats, and exhausted as well. So when Jin Ling starts acting up about Wen Ning, shouting and letting his flowery smell invade the space around him, Lan Sizhui doesn’t react as gracefully as he might have otherwise. 

He hates seeing anyone being cruel to Wen Ning who he knows, with the greatest certainty, is a kind soul who only ever means to care for those he loves. Lan Sizhui can’t help wanting to shield him from those who would harm him, because someone has to, and auntie isn’t here to do it anymore.

At the same time, Jin Ling’s pain hurts as well. There’s something unbearable about seeing him break into tears, about the betrayed looks he shoots at Lan Sizhui for daring to side with his father’s murderer.

They’d been getting along so well, they’d made such a great team fighting those fierce corpses earlier, but now it’s all gone. Lan Sizhui wonders if Jin Ling will ever forgive him for standing at the Ghost General’s side, and nearly wants to cry as well when he realises the answer is probably going to be no. He wants to reach out to Jin Ling and explain he doesn’t mean to hurt him, that they can still be friends, that he just can’t let Wen Ning be hurt again.

Before Lan Sizhui can move, Jiang Cheng calls his nephew from another boat, and demands Jin Ling join him. The order is promptly obeyed, Jin Ling turning away without so much as a last look at Lan Sizhui.

Lan Sizhui sits down, and tells himself if his heart and head hurt so bad, it’s only out of exhaustion.

-

When everything is over, when Jin Guangyao is dead, Lan Sizhui gets to hug the man he once thought of as his father when he was really little, and to see him stand happy at the side of the other man who raised him. Things have been an awful mess, but Lan Sizhui is so happy for both of them.

Nobody deserves happiness more than Lan Wangji, and even though they don’t know each other too well, Lan Sizhui really likes Wei Wuxian a lot.

Leaving those two to explore what the future can bring them, Lan Sizhui instead takes a trip to the past as he decides to accompany Wen Ning.

First of all, they go to the Burial Mounds once again, this time to gather the ashes of their family. Their people, who paid the price of being on the wrong side of a war they didn’t even want. Lan Sizhui still doesn’t really remember much, but he likes hearing Wen Ning telling him stories about them. It makes him feel a little more complete, even though he never particularly felt like anything was missing from his life until that day in Mo manor.

After giving their relatives a proper burial, they head toward Nightless City, or what’s left of it anyway. Here too, Wen Ning has stories to tell, some of which are happier than Lan Sizhui would have expected. It feels wrong to hear that Wen Ruohan wasn’t always a monster, that he was also a man who loved his sons and played with them when they were children. Lan Sizhui was never taught to fear and hate the Yiling Patriarch as much as others of his generation, but he’s heard plenty about the horror committed by Wen Ruohan and struggles to accept that he, too, was only a man after all.

He wonders if that is how Jin Ling feels about Wen Ning.

In fact, Lan Sizhui thinks a lot about Jin Ling as the weeks pass. Whatever judgement he ever felt for the younger alpha regarding his attitude to Wen Ning has melted away now, replaced by deep sympathy. Jin Ling is only fourteen, and Wen Ning did kill his father, so it’s normal that he would feel so angry. Some things cannot be forgiven. And now that Lan Sizhui is a Wen too, he figures that there’s no friendship possible between them, not after how much sorry his family has caused Jin Ling’s.

For some reason, Lan Sizhui realises he is truly upset about this. He had really been looking forward to knowing Jin Ling better, because while Lan Jingyi is an amazing friend, he’s still not an alpha, and there are things he doesn’t understand. Lan Jingyi now has Ouyang Zizhen to chat with, who as a beta is in a good position to lend an ear, but Lan Sizhui doesn’t really have any close alphas in his life.

He really wanted to be close to Jin Ling.

It won’t happen now.

It’s fine.

At least now, he has a family.

-

Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui have just finished a Night Hunt far into what was once Wen territory when news from the Cloud Recesses reach them. They learn that Lan Xichen, a little while after the events that unfolded in Yunping City, entered seclusion. They learn also that Lan Wangji has married Wei Wuxian, who is rumoured to be with child. Without even needing to talk about it, they immediately start heading back toward Gusu. Lan Sizhui has always thought it would be nice to have a sibling, and now that wish is about to be granted.

By the time they get to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian is very, very round and very, very upset that he’s being restricted left and right. He’s not allowed a number of his favourite foods, he’s not allowed to experiment with talismans, or to run around, or even to read for too long.

“It is the worst,” Wei Wuxian whines from his bed, surrounded by pillows, nibbling on some snacks that Lan Wangji brought him when he served tea for all of them. “I have never suffered so much in my life. Sizhui, if you marry an omega, you’re forbidden from knocking them up, it is just too awful.”

Lan Sizhui almost snorts in his tea. He glances at Lan Wangji who is watching Wei Wuxian with open adoration, at least for who knows how to read his expressions.

It makes his heart ache that he will probably never know that sort of love. After all, he’s still half engaged to Lan Jingyi as far as he knows. And aside from his best friend, who’d want to marry him? He isn’t sure if he’s still allowed to be part of Gusu Lan. He isn’t sure he still wants to be part of it, now that he knows the truth… and it’s always a little hard for an alpha without resources to marry. Jingyi would, of course, because he’s loyal like that, but Lan Sizhui feels he should insist on dropping whatever understanding existed between them. It would be kinder.

Luckily, when Lan Jingyi comes to see him that evening, he is of a similar opinion.

As the two of them walk toward the rabbits’ clearing to feed them and chat alone, Lan Jingyi starts explaining, very awkwardly, that he won’t be able to marry Lan Sizhui after all.

“It’s Zizhen, you see,” he mumbles when they reach the clearing, his entire face red. “We’ve gone on a few Night Hunts after you left, and we get along really well, and… well, Lan Qiren isn’t too happy about it because he was still hoping on me being Zewu-Jun’s heir rather than Hanguang-Jun’s child, but of course Zizhen is going to inherit his father’s sect someday, it’s so messy when two sect leaders are married! He was still trying to push for that, but then that thing with sect leader Nie and Zewu-Jun happened, and Lan Qiren is seeing what a mess that is, so he’s warming up to the idea of me marrying into Baling Ouyang.”

Kneeling down to hand some cabbage to a particularly bold rabbit, Lan Sizhui shoots his friend a curious look.

“What about Zewu-Jun and sect leader Nie?”

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t have heard!” Lan Jingyi exclaims, startling the poor rabbit and making it run. He sits down next to Lan Sizhui, and grins. “Listen, gossip’s forbidden and all that, but… you’ve heard that Zewu-Jun was marked in his youth, and nobody knows who the alpha is, right? Well, listen to that!”

That, it turns out, is a convoluted tale of romance, deception, and betrayal that spanned over a decade and recently culminated into the recent engagement of Lan Xichen to Nie Huaisang, much to the bafflement of the entire cultivation world.

Lan Sizhui is happy for his uncle, of course. He’s always tried to ignore gossip, but it’s never been possible to avoid all of it, and even within the Cloud Recesses there have always been those who judged their sect leader for that youthful mistake. It’s a little odd to think that the great Zewu-Jun would settle for the Headshaker, but Lan Jingyi swears that Lan Xichen looks more at peace than he had in many years, and so does Lan Sizhui himself when he gets to see his uncle a few days later.

Lan Sizhui is happy, sharing the joy of all these people he loves and who are finding the happiness they want. Even Lan Qiren is probably less angry than he pretends to be. He loves his nephews after all, and he’s always wanted their happiness.

Lan Sizhui is happy, and tries not to feel left out, tries not to resent the fact that while everyone has found happiness in the past year, all he’s gotten is people to mourn, and a fear that he could be killed if anyone found out who he really is.

“I guess we’re going to have a lot of weddings coming,” Lan Sizhui notes, swallowing whatever bitterness he isn’t allowed to feel, choosing instead to grab one of the rabbits and pet it. “I wonder who’s next… do you know if Jin Ling has met any nice omega?”

The idea, for some reasons, makes his heart clench so tight that it nearly makes him sick. Only because then, he’d really be the only one left out, Lan Sizhui figures.

It’s a relief when Lan Jingyi laughs and shakes his head.

“That little mistress? No omega could put up with him!” he mocks. “He is so annoying and stuck up and… but at least, he’s been nice about me and Zizhen. Supportive even! He said if Zizhen’s dad and old man Lan Qiren keep being old farts about this, we can run off to Carp Tower, he’ll take us into Lanling Jin and let us marry. Not that I’d ever want to be a Jin,” Lan Jingyi sniffs disdainfully, “but I appreciate the intention I guess.”

Lan Sizhui lowers his head to hide a smile. Jin Ling isn’t without faults, but at heart he really is a good person, and a good alpha. It really is a shame that there is so much history between their families, because Lan Sizhui really would have liked to…

“He’s been asking about you a lot, you know,” Lan Jingyi remarks, which startles Lan Sizhui.

“Who has?”

“The little mistress of course. We’ve been on a couple Night Hunts with him, and every time he’s asking where you’ve gone, and when you’ll be back, and why you left without saying anything… He really won’t shut up about you. You should write to him and let him know you’re fine, just so he’ll stop pestering me.”

Lan Sizhui’s hand stills in the rabbit's fur, his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up. He can’t figure out why Jin Ling would miss him, they didn’t really get the chance to get close after all, but the idea is… pleasant. Lan Sizhui himself has certainly thought a lot about Jin Ling while he was travelling with Wen Ning. Mostly to mourn this friendship that never had a chance to bloom, but also just because sometimes they passed by a pretty landscape that he wishes he could have shown to the other alpha, or they fought a creature against which Jin Ling’s skill with a bow would have helped, or they passed by some fragrant peonies in bloom, or just because it would have been funny to hear him complain about this and that.

Lan Sizhui wants, very badly, to write to Jin Ling, to see him even. He knows, also, that it would be a bad idea.

If he tells Jin Ling about who he is, and his link to Wen Ning, then he is endangering himself, and risking the good reputation of Lan Wangji who saved him and hid him for years. If he doesn’t tell Jin Ling anything, then it’s a form of deception, since he knows the other alpha would never want his friendship if he knew the truth.

It’s safer, then, to simply stay away.

Still, Lan Sizhui enjoys being missed, more than he probably should.

 -

Lan Sizhui never realised how sad his uncle was, until he went into his room in a Qinghe inn alongside Lan Wangji to help him get ready on the morning of his wedding. It is no secret that the road has been somewhat bumpy for Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, that even to this day they have their disagreements, but it is just as clear that Lan Xichen is the happiest he's ever been, on that warm morning of late summer. 

Lan Sizhui wonders what it feels like to marry, and for love, too, not just for politics. 

For some reason, his mind immediately wanders to Jin Ling. He's still young of course, and his position is too fragile, but someday he'll marry someone, a pretty little omega from a good family. And then, Lan Sizhui will be the only one of their little group to remain single, since Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen have finally obtained the engagement they wanted. They're hoping to marry next spring, if all goes well.

There's no shame in being single, of course, especially for an alpha, but the more Lan Sizhui realises he's unlikely to marry, the sadder he gets. It would be nice to Night Hunt with another person, to find his equal, his perfect match like his fathers did. Someone strong and determined but still kind, someone like… 

"I wish I didn't have to bother with that veil," Lan Xichen sighs, eyeing the fabric that Lan Sizhui is holding in clenched fists. "It's ridiculous. He knows what I look like."

"It is traditional," Lan Wangji retorts. 

"Did you make Wei Wuxian wear one then?" 

Lan Wangji smirks, ever so slightly. "Eloping has advantages." 

Lan Xichen freezes, blinking a few times. Like almost all of them, he is still a little upset that his brother married in secret. Still, soon enough he is laughing, and turns to look at Lan Sizhui. 

"Some example we are giving you," Lan Xichen remarks, taking the veil from his nephew. "I hope you will be more serious than us when your time comes."

"But father and uncle are very happy," Lan Sizhui notes, allowing himself a moment of insolence on this joyous day. "Surely it gives the impression that breaking rules and ignoring traditions is rather rewarding."

Lan Xichen laughs again as he pins the veil in place, and even Lan Wangji can't help a slight huff, his eyes smiling proudly at his son. 

"I suppose we make bad cases for obedience," Lan Xichen admits. "Not all rules are worth following. And you are a clever young man, so I'm sure the path you'll choose will be a righteous one, and that you'll find a partner worthy of you." 

Lan Sizhui nods. His thoughts, again, go to Jin Ling. Hopefully he too will find a good person. After so much tragedy in his life, he deserves to have someone in his life who will stick with him and be loyal and honest. That’s the very least Jin Ling deserves.

His veil in place but not yet lowered, Lan Xichen stands, smoothing non-existent creases in his robes, making sure that everything is perfect. He looks nervous, as any spouse-to-be can be expected to be. 

Mostly though, he looks happy, and there is no hesitation in his steps when he heads out of the room to go meet his groom.

Nie Huaisang is a lucky man who’d better not mess this up.

 -

The banquet offered by Qinghe Nie to the wedding’s guests is nothing short of magnificent. Whatever faults he has, Nie Huaisang is a good host, who knows how to please people. There are many dishes, fit for every taste, and over half of those are suitable for vegetarians. Lan Sizhui, however, finds himself without much appetite on this happy day.

He really is never going to be Lan sect leader now. Not when he knows who he truly is, not when his father has a daughter of his own blood who is probably only the first of many, not when his uncle too might now have children. It’s a relief, because Lan Sizhui isn’t sure he ever wanted that responsibility in the first place, no more than he would have wanted to marry Lan Jingyi, if he’s honest. But it drives home once more the fact that he doesn’t know what the future holds for him anymore, and that is a little scary. 

Without meaning to, Lan Sizhui’s eyes start to wander toward the Jin guests, and rest on their young sect leader. It is the first time Lan Sizhui sees him in over a year, since that day in Yunping City. He looks taller, and a good deal less like a child, but that’s no surprise with everything that has changed for him. Jin Ling seems to be growing into a serious young man. A handsome one as well, but that’s hardly a surprise, the Jins usually have their good looks going for them, even if their personalities can be lacking… though Jin Ling has both a good face and a good heart, of course.

Lan Sizhui must have stared too long, because after a while, Jin Ling notices, looks in his direction, and smiles. It makes Lan Sizhui’s heart beat a little faster, until he remembers that there can be no friendship between them, not unless he lies.

In this too his life has changed. 

His mood taking a sour turn, Lan Sizhui excuses himself to Lan Jingyi, leaves his seat abruptly, and goes for a walk. Hopefully, the Nies won't mind too much that he is wandering a bit. If anyone asks, he'll say he is looking for the garden his uncle mentioned after some of his visits. 

No one asks. 

Lan Sizhui might as well be a ghost. 

He feels a bit like one, tied to a past tragedy that now defines him. The lone survivor of a sect that should be extinct, forced to decide if he should follow the teaching of the family that raised him, or try to find again those of a family he cannot remember. Either way, it would feel like betraying someone.

Just as Lan Sizhui finally finds that garden, he hears footsteps running after him. Before he even turns to look, he knows by the flowery smell that reaches him who decided to follow him.

“Lan Sizhui!” Jin Ling shouts as he gets closer. “Are you avoiding me?”

Lan Sizhui winces, unsure how to answer that without insulting or lying. He has been avoiding Jin Ling, but it would be unwise to admit it.

“It’s been ages!” Jin Ling insists, unbothered by the lack of reply. “And I know you know that you’re invited to come to Carp Tower whenever you like, because I told Jingyi to tell you, and he said that he told you!”

Lan Sizhui can’t fully repress a small smile. Lan Jingyi has, indeed, passed that invitation on to him. Lan Sizhui has assumed he was invited only out of politeness, to avoid offending another alpha due to the friendship Jin Ling has developed with the omega Lan Sizhui was once half expected to marry. It can’t have been anything more. Like Jin Ling says, it’s been a long time since they met.

“I am very sorry,” Lan Sizhui says, which is nothing but the truth. “I have been busy.”

He hesitates to say more than that. Considering Jin Ling’s distaste for Wen Ning, it is probably better not to mention him. It is a happy day, Lan Sizhui doesn’t want to ruin it.

Jin Ling, unimpressed, shrugs and steps closer. It is hard to ignore that he’s taller than Lan Sizhui now, his shoulders broader. Jin Ling is everything that an alpha ought to be, and Lan Sizhui almost envies whoever will get to be his omega.

“I know you’ve been busy,” Jin Ling retorts, crossing his arms on his chest, looking a little like the haughty boy he was when they first met. “Travelling places with the Ghost General and all that… but you’ve been back to Gusu for a few months, would it have been so hard to come say hi?”

“That’s…”

“You can even take Wen Ning with you if you want, I don’t care,” Jin Ling adds, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he has to spell it out. “I don’t hate him as much as I used to, and Lan Jingyi says he’s actually good company. Plus he’s related to you, isn’t he? So of course I want to learn to tolerate him better.”

Lan Sizhui gasps softly, his blood turning to ice at the thought that anyone might have guessed already. Of course he knew that people would talk after hearing that he travelled with Wen Ning, but somehow he’d hoped that nobody would realise why he was doing that, not yet, not so soon.

Jin Ling, again, rolls his eyes.

“Right, it’s supposed to be a secret I guess?” he snorts. “Well, I’m not a complete idiot, thanks. I can see that you look a bit like him, and my uncle told me more about when Wei Wuxian was living in the Burial Mounds, since I asked. He says there was a child there, and then I just had to do some math and… well, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re right,” Lan Sizhui confirms, terrified and elated at once that he doesn’t need to keep that secret from Jin Ling. “You seem to be taking this rather well.”

Jin Ling shrugs, a touch of red colouring his cheeks.

“I’ve had time to get used to the idea,” he grumbles. “I was pretty pissed off at first when I realised, but then I figured it doesn’t change things that much. You’re still you, and I still want to be close to you, the rest doesn’t matter.”

Hearing this, Lan Sizhui’s face heats up.

“I’d like that as well,” he admits with a shy smile. “I thought you wouldn’t want for us to be friends if you knew, so this is a relief.”

“Of course I’d want to be friends anyway!” Jin Ling exclaims. “I don’t care if you’re a Wen, or a Lan, or whatever! You’re Sizhui, and I want us to be close, I don’t care about the rest!”

Lan Sizhui’s blush deepens, and he looks away, trying to contain a nervous laughter.

“Jin Ling, I’d have thought being a sect leader would have taught you to be more careful about what you say,” he teases. “You’re lucky we’re both alphas, or else your words might be misunderstood as something else.”

Jin Ling’s entire face turns so red the cinnabar dot on his forehead nearly disappears. It’s… it’s cute. It’s really cute, and Lan Sizhui knows he shouldn’t think of another alpha as being adorable, but he can’t help it.

“There’s nothing to misunderstand!” Jin Ling blurts out, fists clenched on either side of his body.

“Of course,” Lan Sizhui sighs, a little too amused that Jin Ling is still the same, even if he’s grown up. “I was just…”

“There’s nothing to misunderstand because that’s exactly the way I mean it!” Jin Ling cuts him, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it just a little too tight. “I like you a lot, Lan Sizhui! And I don’t care that you’re a Wen, or that you’re an alpha, I still like you like that, so deal with it!”

Lan Sizhui gapes at the other alpha, stunned by those words he would never have expected.

If it were anyone else, he’d think of a joke. Or else, he’d think that this is just a younger alpha who admires an older one a little too much, as can happen. It’s not unheard of just after presenting, and it usually goes away quickly. In fact, if Jin Ling had said this back in Yi City, Lan Sizhui would have dismissed it as just a passing crush. But they haven’t seen each other in so long that Jin Ling should have grown out of that phase already. Beside, he looks and sounds dreadfully sure of himself.

And Lan Sizhui, who has never really given much thought to those few omega who tried to flirt with him, finds his heart racing in his chest at the idea that Jin Ling might like him.

“Jin Ling, that’s…”

“Don’t say anything!” Jin Ling orders, squeezing his hand harder. “You don’t get to say anything until you’ve really thought about it, and then you’ll have to come visit me in Carp Tower if you want to talk about it! But I mean this, so don’t treat me as a kid, and give it real thought. I’m serious about this, and if you don’t like me back yet, then I’ll just have to convince you!”

There won’t be much convincing needed, Lan Sizhui suspects, his eyes falling to their joined hands. He’s never thought of Jin Ling in that light before, but only because his whole life used to be so neatly mapped out for him.

Suddenly, that sense of uncertainty he’s been feeling since he understood where he comes from isn’t so scary anymore. The Lan Sizhui of before, half engaged to his best friend, half expected to become sect leader, could never have allowed himself to even think about Jin Ling in that light. The person he is now can, and he certainly will.

He’s already been thinking about Jin Ling more than he should, anyway.

“I’ll come to Carp Tower soon,” Lan Sizhui promises, carefully moving his hand to thread their fingers together.

He likes the hopeful way Jin Ling stares at him, his tone and gesture already betraying what his answer will be.

Lan Sizhui grins.

The future, once more, feels like something to look forward to.

[hockeyboysiguess]

peace | t. seguin

a/n: had this idea for a hot minute. finally felt like writing it out!

wine pairing: a port wine, pretty much as sweet as wine gets. 

warnings: cavity causing sweetness. some swearing. 

word count: 2.8K

Tyler Seguin had taken a while to grow up, longer than some people wanted, longer than even Tyler himself had wanted at some points. Some people had lost faith he ever would, even some of the people closest to him. It made him cautious and caused him to retreat further into his comfortable shell of youth and false innocence. It prevented him from becoming the person he was always meant to be. Youth and the mistakes that come along with it weren’t forever and he had always know that. But it was easy. Continuing down a straight, defined path was easier than taking one that branched off into the surrounding mist with no idea what the end would look like, even if the path he was on would end in a brick wall he’d seen coming since he’d started on it. 

Until you. 

Meeting you for the first time was one of Tyler’s foggiest memories. He had been absolutely trashed, falling all over himself at a bar. You had been there with a few friends, celebrating something that good that had happened at work, a good presentation, a new client, a promotion, Tyler couldn’t remember for the life of him. Tyler had tried to be smooth and offered to buy you a drink, but the interaction instead ended up with you flagging down a bartender to get him a glass of water and slyly confiscating the whiskey sour from him when he was too lost in the effort of trying to impress you to notice. You got two cups of water in him before he had even noticed. To be fair, Tyler hadn’t noticed much of anything that night, just that you were beautiful and that he had liked your smile from across the bar. 

Somehow, someway, you had given him your number before he left under the guise of letting you know when he got home safely. It wasn’t a guise on your part, but Tyler had used it as an opportunity to ask you out to brunch, the most innocent sounding of dates, as a way to say thank you for taking care of him. By some grace from something Tyler wasn’t even sure he fully believed in, you had agreed to brunch. He was all but convinced you were going to stand him up, realizing that he was just the mess you’d seen that one night, and that you could definitely do better than him. But you were there when he arrived, put together and so good, so much better than him. You were still there really, since Tyler had shown up fifteen minutes late. 

He didn’t know why, considering you were probably the most beautiful person he had ever been allowed in twenty feet of, but you laughed, you smiled, you enjoyed his company. You told him you did. You were blunt, strong in your beliefs in the face of any test. In all the time Tyler had known you, beginning with your choice to show up on the date even though he was certain everyone in your life who looked out for you told you not to go, you never wavered from your convictions, not even for a second. Your feet were firmly planted in your viewpoints, roots wrapping around each one to hold you in place, strong enough to weather any storm. 

You showed up for a second date, then the third, then Jamie’s birthday party, then to dinner with his mom and sisters. You kept showing up, even as Tyler held his breath, waiting for you to realize that he was so flawed compared to you. You were a future masterpiece and Tyler was at best a work in progress, but it was already so obvious that while you deserved to be hung in a prominent spot in the Louvre when you were finished, Tyler’s top showing might be an abstract college art gallery in a hidden New York alley. But god, did he love getting to be the person who got to stand next to you, seeing each brush stroke of the life you were building in motion. You were the most impressive person he had ever met and you continued to be, every layer of paint containing something else that astounded him and made him feel inferior, like he was tarnishing, borderline ruining, the masterpiece that was you by putting his hands in the wet paint of your life. You swore to him he was only making you better. 

He didn’t know how that was possible, but he trusted your words. Your integrity ran too deep in the foundations of who you were to lie to him. With every addition to your life, your integrity ran through it. You knew exactly the person you wanted to be and you would drag yourself there kicking and screaming if that’s what it took. The depth of your integrity was the thing that made Tyler most terrified, because he barely had any idea of who he was before he met you. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane that made up his life and he was a sapling among the winds, green and flexible, but with swallow roots, barely sunk in, constantly in danger of being lifted from the soil at the words of shitty friends and strangers on the internet. You were solid, firm, sunk deep into the soil next to him and thank god for that. Tyler wasn’t great at a lot of things when he met you, but he knew he had to hold onto you. If holding onto you was the only thing he ever did right, it would be more than enough. 

Except Tyler felt guilty for doing it, because while Tyler matured with you, his roots growing deeper along with his convictions, he still felt small standing next to you. Sometimes when he got to do his childhood dream of a job, a grown man playing a little kid’s sport, talking shit on the ice, in interviews, in the locker room, he felt like he was wasting the good person you were, like he was wasting your integrity and honor with his own actions. He could give you adventures, fulfill your wildest dreams. He could give you the family you always wanted. He could hold your hand through the worst storms, help you fight off the potential robbers of your happiness. But the storm would always come and the robbers would always be on your doorstep because Tyler was the one pulling them in. His job brought attention, resulting in a chaotic version of your life that you never envisioned for yourself. He could never stop it, only stand next to you as you stood tall in the storm. 

Standing there, with the sun slowly setting behind him, barring down on his neck, his suit felt heavy on his shoulders, but not as heavy as the velvet box in his hands. He’d had it for over a month now. Designing the contents had been easy, arguably fun even for Tyler who had thought it would be like a root canal, but the second the jeweler had handed him the finished product, the doubt started forming, dragging his mind down. Before he held the ring, he felt like he had been floating on the best memories of your relationship, giving him confidence that you would say yes. Those cherished memories kept his mind afloat, far enough away from potential pitfalls to move forward with creating this symbol of your relationship in his hands. But without warning, he was in mental quicksand made up of past fights, the negative outside opinions he has always pushed aside and hoped you did to, and past versions of himself he didn’t like as much, and he felt like he couldn’t get his head above water long enough to find any possible reason you might say yes instead of no. 

But here he was, unable to handle the doubt anymore, velvet box in hand, ready to ask you to marry him because the only way he couldn’t doubt your answer was if he knew it. Tyler bounced on his heels, his new dress shoes creasing with his movements. Why had he gotten new shoes for this? Didn’t he have enough dress shoes? That’s what you asked him when he’d brought them home a week ago, after he finally realized he was going to feel like he was drowning until he asked you. He had waved you off, saying he didn’t have a pair this particular shade, which was a lie. They were black. Shades were a little irrelevant in the realm of black dress shoes. He didn’t know exactly why he had bought them, or why they helped bring him to this point, the park where you’d walked together after your second date, but they had and because of that, he didn’t regret buying yet another pair of black dress shoes. 

He checked his watch again for easily the twentieth time in a tenth of those minutes. You would be walking down the path any moment and this would be real. This was the last moment that Tyler could live in limbo, the last moment of carrying the doubt that was hanging so heavy on his mind, but also the last moment he wouldn’t know if your answer was no. God, what would he do if you said no? He didn’t have a plan for that, for what it would feel like to watch his entire future go blank in one moment, for what it would feel like for his heart to come out of his chest through his throat only to have it tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Tyler shook his head softly and turned the box over in his hands again.

He heard your laugh before you came around the bend and it made him smile. It made him remember exactly why he had started this horrible journey to this moment in the first place; he couldn’t imagine his life without that laugh, without your hair ties scattered across his house, without you standing at the front door every single time he came home from a road trip, no matter the time. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat when you came into view. You looked beautiful every day, but that was his favorite dress, the one from your fourth date, and you were wearing the heels he had bought you for the first birthday of yours he spent with you. As you came closer, he saw the earrings from Christmas this past year and the necklace that matched them that he followed up with for your anniversary a few months ago. There were touches of how he touched your life all over you and it made him feel, for a second, like maybe you might just say yes. 

“Tyler,” you smiled at him softly and he had to let out a long, strained breath to try to get his head on straight, “what is all of this? Jamie didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Yeah, I told him not to,” Tyler laughed a little, trying to expel some of his nerves in his laughter.

“What’s going on, Ty?” you pressed again, taking in the flowers, the candles, and Tyler’s suit, which at least made you feel less like the only person overdressed for a walk in the park.

Tyler didn’t answer with his words. He let his eyes find yours and he thought about how central the woman behind them had become to his entire life. He didn’t have a speech planned. He knew he would have forgotten it anyway. He slowly dropped down onto his right knee and just let the words tumble out of his mouth, just trying to keep the pace somewhere near where you could possibly understand. 

“When I met you, I was someone else. I was a guy who never showed up anywhere on time. I hated mornings and responsibility. I didn’t know who I really wanted to be, let alone how to get there. I didn’t really believe in much of anything, least of all myself,” Tyler started, “but you changed all of that, just by being there. You showed up in my life and didn’t try and change a single thing about me. You showed up and I realized I wanted to be better. You were the catalyst. You started this chain reaction of change that made me realize the person I wanted to be was the person who deserved someone like you.” 

Your hands were covering your mouth as the tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak so thank god you didn’t have to. You just needed to listen, so you did. 

“I’m still not some perfect guy. I’m a work in progress and I know that. I’m not a hundred percent sure of who I’m going to be, but I know I’m ready to be the best husband to you. You’re the person that I tell everything to, my wildest dreams, my fears, my ups, my downs, my lefts, my rights, but you’re also the only person I can sit in silence with and feel comfortable doing it because I don’t feel alone in silence if you’re sitting next to me in it too,” Tyler continued. 

“I see your brother as my brother, your family as my family. God, I want to create a new family with you so badly, give you that child I know you’ve wanted your entire life. I want to keep you warm during the cold nights. I want to make sure your head stays above water when the blues come in waves. I want to love you in a way that’s only meant for the two of us to ever understand. I want to be your husband. I want to be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” 

Tyler cleared his throat. The tears falling down your face were mirrored in his eyes now, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t talk if he cried, so he looked up toward the sky, willing the tears to let him finish first. 

“But baby, I can’t ever give you peace. I can give you all of me, my absolute best foot forward every single day, but I can’t give you peace. I can’t give you the quiet, calm life that you deserve.” His voice was cracking and breaking every other word, the pain he felt behind the words hanging onto each syllable unyieldingly. “There’s always going to be people talking shit, saying terrible things about you, about us. We’re always going to have to live behind high walls with narrow gates. The storm is always going to come for you if you’re standing with me and that kills me, because you deserve to feel safe and secure and at peace in your life.”

Tyler wiped his eyes with the back of his hand slowly, letting out a deep, shaky breath as he tried to pull himself back to a place where he could actually ask you what he came here to ask you. He didn’t think it would be this damn hard. He might have tried to practice otherwise.  

“Is it enough?” Tyler asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would I be enough, even if I can never give you peace? Is my love good enough to overcome that for the rest of your life? I hope so, because I’m asking if it’s enough. I’m asking you, if everything I can offer you is enough to overcome all of that. If it can, let me be your coparent. Let me be your partner. Let me be your husband.”

Tyler opened the velvet box he swore weighed a ton right now and you gasped behind your closed mouth. His mind was too foggy and too anxious to try to figure out if your reaction was positive or negative at this point.

“Will you marry me?”

The words, the four words that had felt like a shackle on his mind for months now, finally came out of his mouth. The doubt was gone. There was no reason for it anymore. Your answer would be what it was and there was nothing Tyler could do or say to change your mind now. Nothing he said in this moment would. If you wanted to marry him, you would’ve decided you did long before you showed up here today. Your answer was fixed long before Tyler’s speech and he knew that now.

Tyler watched you with anxious eyes, taking in the tears sliding down your face, your hands shaking over your mouth. He watched as you slowly took your hands away from your mouth. Your lower lip was quivering not unlike your hands as you slowly fanned your face in an effort to calm your reddened checks and put a dam on the tears that were still flowing. Even if he hadn’t said a word other than those last four tonight, you already knew your answer. 

“Yes, Tyler. Yes.” 

You offered your hand out, watching as his shaking hands clumsily collided with your to slide the ring onto your left hand. Tyler’s arms around you and his mouth on yours happened in a blurb and you melted into his strong chest. Your fiancé. Your future husband.

Tyler was wrong though. He thought he would create endless noise in the background and foreground of your life, robbing you of the ability to live a good, quiet life. But Tyler gave you all of the peace you could ever want in moments like this, where the entire rest of the world drowned out by his warmth and his love, when you were pressed against his chest.

This was peace and it was more than good enough. It was everything you had ever hoped for.

[felassan]

Highlights and insights from the MELE launch cast & crew reunion panel

[rewatch link] [highlights & insights from the N7 Day 2020 reunion]

In case a text format is better for anyone (in terms of accessibility for example). Cut for length.

Some paraphrasing.

If anyone’s interested in just the line-reading session, it starts at timestamp ~1:04:45.

In addition to the cast and crew from the N7 Day reunion, at this reunion also in attendance were: 

Mac Walters (Project Director for MELE, Lead Writer of the og MET)

Melanie Faulknor (Lead Producer for MELE)

Crystal McCord (Producer for MELE)

Fred Tatasciore (Saren)

Seth Green (Joker)

Kimberly Brooks (Ash)

Ash Sroka (Tali)

This was the biggest reunion / meetup of the cast so far, and some of the cast and crew were meeting for the first time here.

It’s been so long since the og MET that PW & KW are getting to watch their kids experience playing it for the first time

JHale doesn’t play but since MELE she’s been sneaking around Twitch jumping into peoples’ MELE livestreams to lurk, watch and comment a bit

What drew Seth to the character of Joker? The whole concept of the game. He likes games and MET’s mechanics (different trees of adventure, stacking reputation, choices carrying between games) at the time were the most sophisticated that he’d ever heard pitched. He thought this was new and exciting and wanted to be a part of it. For the character they cast him based on his personality traits (i.e. he sounds quite similar to Joker personality-wise)

Would Seth ever want to play Joker again if the opportunity presented itself? Sure, he loves the character, and if the writers ever had more things to explore/expand with Joker he’d be down for it. 

Seth said that it’s a different kind of fan that approach him about this project. The fans have spent many many hours in an intimate exchange with “him” that he hasn’t been a part of, but they experienced it nonetheless. “I’ve hugged a lot of strangers, you know what I’m saying? It’s great, you get an interaction with fans that you never get as a performer in any other experience”

Seth has been a space guy since he was little, it inspires him

With the state of the world the way it is now [covid, masks etc], does Ash think Tali’s story will be more impactful now than it was before? Ash hopes so, and that anything they do here will have a positive impact on a bigger level. Ultimately that’s why most of them do what they do, they want to reach people in deep ways. She hopes Tali is an inspiration in courage, bravery, standing up for what’s right and thinking about the greater good

The [MELE I think] dev team had a last team meeting with Greg Zeschuk, one of the founders of BioWare, who they had invited to it. He was regaling them with stories of the inception of Mass Effect. “You would imagine this sort of well-laid out, drawing boards everywhere... [but] it was basically just a napkin sketch in a Greek taverna with him and Casey going ‘We wanna do a space opera’, and then it took off”

The process of creating lore through development is very organic. A lot of it comes from character and story development. It builds up over the course of the game’s development. They did the codex entries at the end, the idea being that if they saved them for as late as they could, then they could pull from the story, characters and meaningful moments, and build them from there

PW wrote a bunch of the codex entries, elevator banter & lots of little bits of lore. They describe their time on the og MET as being a “baby writer”. They originally came in after Mac had back surgery and a junior writer was needed to fill in. “It was really fun, it was us sitting in a room together going ‘What do you think a hanar or a krogan thinks about this or that’?” For a first project for them this was an amazing experience - the world building itself creatively with all these awesome people

They tried to add multiplayer in every game but only got it to work in ME3

They had a lot of plots laid out in ME1 that they called “global plots”. These were outside the core critical path and would take players from planet to planet, and were sprawling stories. They pulled out a lot of really interesting concepts and ideas from these that did make it into the game, but all of the global plots ended up getting cut due to time. Mac still has old diagrams and spreadsheets which detailed how all of these would have come together

Q. If you all had to take a long-distance road-trip with two squadmates, who would you take and why? PW: “Jack and Mordin. Mordin because the drive would never lack for things to talk about at length quickly, Jack because you know you wouldn’t pay for the room. You wouldn’t know how you’d get the room, but you wouldn’t be paying for it.” Courtenay: “I’d take Mordin because there’d be singing, and FemShep just to have this thing - happen. In the room that I get for free.” JHale at this point fistpumped while saying “Yeess” [then I think what she said was “steaming hot”]

Seeing as asari are long-lived, how open is Ali to one day reprising her role as Liara? “She’s a character very close to my heart, it was such a great opportunity. In some games that we work on the character has already been created or voiced by someone else, but this was really a group effort. When I first went into the booth, the only thing I’d seen of her was a sort of like, rendering, and we slowly kind of came to her voice and presence. I would love to bring Liara back any time... hey, she can live a really long time guys. :D”

Caroline and people who do what she does (Creative Performance Director) are so critical to the quality of games. Caroline: “This group of people are extraordinary. We were lucky to have such an extraordinary cast. Every [recording] session was new and challenging. It was a labor of love. I’m tearing up right now thinking about it. I’m remembering my last session with Jen, she was the last session, just sobbing and sobbing”. When JHale was trying to say the lines of Shepard’s goodbye with Garrus, a line hit her like a tonne of bricks and she was in tears and was like “Shepard does not cry”. “It took me a second, I got it out and took another run at it, it was in there but stuffed down as it should have been, and I finished the line [and there was silence in the booth when usually Caroline would have been talking to give direction or instruction] Did we lose her? Did Skype crash?” and it transpired that what had happened was that Caroline was in floods of tears

ME was the first time Keythe had ever come across branching dialogue. “Normally when we work on a script and it’s from page 1 to 100. In this it was get to page 5, then go back to page 2 and play it a little differently. The skill and the fun and joy of it was to be able to go back and play a scene in a different way, with different writing, with different outcomes. This was not only a challenge but a real treat. So to all the writers who dreamed up how this build-your-own-adventure plays out, you have my undying respect. It was a real pleasure”

VEDA is a proprietary system that BW use to record the dialogue, which is the closest way of having it feel like having people in the booth together (it’s all digital and VAs get to hear the line someone else has done in that scene). Caroline really pushed for this because of the amount of time etc that was wasted due to lack of this sort of thing on ME1. William: “It was a god send for me, thank you, getting to hear a cue from Jen or Mark.” Ali: “Us being able to bounce off each other helps make it more real. This for me was the most real acting experience on a game I had ever had - the writing being so good, Caroline helping us through, being able to hear each other.” JHale was always early coming in to record relative to the others so only got to use VEDA a few times - a bit of Liara content and the scene with Anderson towards the end. “Those two times, oh my god it was amazing”. VEDA being a thing also helps from a scheduling standpoint

Seth and Tricia Helfer (EDI) only got to be in the booth actually together 1 time, to record/shoot a piece of promotional video. “We actually got to record a scene together and we were like ‘oh my god this is the best thing ever’. It was great, even though I had to stand on a stool. She’s the best”

Seth: “As an actor, the kind of opportunity to do this kind of material in games just didn’t exist.” Fred: “Oh, never! I had never had a villain part that was complicated like that. In a game? Never before, it was really interesting”

Raphael always goes back to the fact that ME brought more women into gaming than any other game before it. “The writing and the complexity of the relationships gave us so much ballast”. “This set this apart from running, shooting, gunning, looting”

JHale: “What I noticed in the times before when I got to be around fans, there was a huge hunger among women in the gaming world for something they could really jump into. They were starving for something which fed them what they deserved and needed”

Mac: “[praising Caroline] Caroline would often come to us as writers and challenge us and say, as an example, ‘Do we really need another male character to do this? Why are we writing another male character for this?’ She pushed that very early and to the betterment of everything we created”

PW: “Karin and Cookie and all of the editors across the trilogy, [were critical in] making sure that Shepard sounded consistent - [especially since] we had a large writing team, writers came and went, Mac is the only one with a significant writing contribution on each of the games”

PW: “[on game dev] It’s a process of getting hundreds of people pointed in the same direction, all believing that this is something worth doing”

Ash: “Having all the different possibilities and avenues, going back to play them all out in the different ways [really helped to round the character of Tali out and make her feel like a natural person]”.

VAs only get paid for the original recording sessions, not again (as in they don’t any royalties or anything from something like the remaster)

In MELE, they left all the original credits at the end of each game in

Fred: “It’s creating in five dimensions [because of all the outcomes and relationships etc]”. Seth: “The cool thing is that the audience feels that. They’re immediately struck by how dense, thought-out, prepared and planned the entire universe is”

How was it for the new MELE devs coming onto this? Crystal: “I knew it [the series and fans’ love for it] was big, but I didn’t know it was BIG! Working on MELE there was this infectious excitement. Being part of it was so exciting.” Melanie: “I came on at ME3, I had a 3 or 4 year honeymoon period with BioWare. Coming onto MELE, I’m getting really emotional. One of my first meetings originally was going into a cinematic review for an epic Tali scene in ME3”. Crystal: “On MELE, we had an hour or 2 every day where the team came together to play the game. In those reviews, a lot of the devs who worked on the original would tell all these stories. It was really fun to hear all the inside stories on ME’s creation and be a part of that”

DC: “Should this unit get vaccinated?” Ash: “Of course”

How do they think ME will be viewed in the next 10-20 years, what do they think its legacy will be? A piece of history, ground-breaking. It broke down some barriers and opened doors for people. It’s a powerful, powerful community. It’ll continue to age quite well and be enjoyed by a new generation, it’s original and evergreen and there’s a lot in it that people go back to. There’s a lot of universal things in it (personal experiences, like there will always be love, people fighting to belong, trying to make sense of their pasts etc)

JHale and Alix did the “I love you Shepard, now go save the world again” Shep-Sam exchange and both got teary. It was then Seth’s turn to line-read: “Jesus Christ, now that I’m good and choked up, fucking mess”. Ali was also actually crying from it

Seth: “It can’t be overstated, this community is so large and global, it is one of the most powerful fandoms that I’ve ever been greeted with. Thank you”. Ash: “It’s the most amazing group of fans ever. We’re all so grateful”

Some funny anecdotes/stories:

PW didn’t realize that Alix could do different accents. They remember a time when they were listening in the booth and an Alliance soldier was complaining about the gear had been given. They said “Wow that’s really good, who is that?” and the VO producer said “That’s Alix, Patrick”, “because she wasn’t doing her [normal British accent but was doing a Californian accent instead]. Alix roasted me later for not recognizing her voice and never let me heard the end of it”

Alix: “[on Sam’s toothbrush] Caroline’s like, ‘So then she pulls her toothbrush’ and I’m like ‘What? Sorry? A toothbrush?’ and obviously it’s funny now as everyone knows that Sam’s thing is her toothbrush. Caroline’s like ‘Yeah, you’ve gotta like, flirt, over the toothbrush’ and I’m like ‘Who wrote this - a frickin toothbrush, are you kidding me? Really guys?’ ANYWAY. I was wrong and it worked. :D”

Fred: “I remember a 12 year old kid coming up to me and being like [flat tone] ‘Oh yeah. I killed you’.”

Keythe: “The other assasin I play is Kellogg in Fallout 4. People come up to me like ‘Omg. I love you so much. And then I fucking KILLED you!’”

Courtenay once went out to dinner in NZ with a few prominent people from the Game of Thrones cast. “Everyone around was making a big deal out of it like ‘Omg, it’s so-and-so from GoT’. I was feeling a bit like ‘Hi, I’m here, just nobody’. And I looked around in the restaurant and there's one guy in the corner and he’s got an N7 shirt on and he’s just looking at me like [knowing look, does a peace sign]. And I’m like ‘I got one! I love you guys!’”

PW: “I have a question for the cast members, because I don’t know if JHale has done this to all of you or if she just does it to the devs. Show of hands if Jen has ever made you do push-ups.” JHale: “It’s just you guys”

Karin: “One of my favorite editing files that I ever had was a ME file. It was before Seth was coming in for a session. I opened it up and it was just 20, 25 lines with the word ‘Shit’, over and over again, and I was like, ‘This file is perfect, I don’t need to do anything to it, have fun!’”

Seth: “Didn’t we do a track that’s like 60 seconds of laughing? Escalating laughing? I don’t know about other actors but for me getting into a laughing fit is kind of like trying to get into a crying fit, it takes the same level of commitment, you start to follow a path until like you’re hysterically uncontrollably laughing. I remember looking through the glass, and I’m deep in it at this point, and I make eye contact, and I can see from the other side of the booth and they’re like [making ‘okay you can stop’ now gestures] - ‘Like that’s plenty, we got it’ and I was like ‘okay, okay [dying]’”

JHale: “The craziest thing Mark and I had to deal with was how many times we had to say ‘I should go’”. Mark: “We also, Caroline and I tended to use that as short hand when I needed to go to the bathroom”

The panel host: “The first time I interviewed Ali was a decade ago. She did the ‘I’ll flay you alive with my mind’ line halfway through, it was my first interview and I literally fell out of my seat [from being star-struck]”

Ash line-read Tali’s drunk omni-tattoo scene and in response DC said “I totally get why people wanna romanticize all these characters :D”. Karin: “We’ve had more than one person come up to us and show us actual tattoos that looked like that”

[source]

[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea) 

warnings: throughout this fic (there will be a bunch of parts to it) there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide 

reader discretion is advised

(this chapter is more about setting up the basis of the story so is more context than anything else, part 2 will be more interesting I swear 😭, also it’s like 4am so if there’s any gramatical mistakes I’ll fix it later) 

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @simpforpoppy @ognenniyvolk (I’m pretty sure this is my tag list if you wanna be added or taken off for future chapters just ask 😊) 

word count: 3.6k 

Part 1: The introduction

As the sun began to set, the houses along the street began to bask in its warm glow. The neighbourhood is quiet, like always, excluding the occasional car engine rumbling through the roads until they disappear into the distance and once again the silence is deafening. This neighbourhood was your typical suburban type, their structures stood tall and bold. Looking from an aerial point of view, one could argue that it’s almost like the houses have been copied and pasted along the street, they almost look perfect. One theory is that they were purposely made to look like they're perfect because they don’t want anyone to find out their secrets. It’s harder to catch a true glimpse when everything looks flawless.

If you compare the northside and the southside of Greensburg, it makes it seem like they’re living in two different worlds and maybe they are. The polarisation between the rich and the poor only becomes bigger, demonstrated by the high socio-economic backgrounds of those who lived in the north who go to the best schools, have the best jobs and sometimes own more than one house. Compared to those in a low socio economic background in the south, who usually have to work two jobs just to feel some sort of financial stability in their lives or have no choice but to indulge in illegal jobs just so they can feel some sort of power and superiority and have money of course. Only a few in the south are able to lead a straight and narrow life and successfully do it without having to engage in the culture of illegal activities. 

Bea Hughes, a girl who lives in Greensburg is someone who managed to immerse herself in both worlds. She used to be part of the upper class lifestyle but after life fucked her and her family over at the tender age of 8 years old, she was pulled into another world, one that she quickly had to acquaint herself with, because in the south, survival matters. The luxuries she once knew as a kid had disappeared and she constantly lived in a fight or flight situation. Now as her senior year of high school looms ahead, she finds herself still living in a similar situation, but instead of dealing with gangs or her addict of a mother, she had to deal with stuck up rich kids in Greensburg’s most prestigious school, Belvoire, which may have been her toughest obstacle of all. Against all odds, Bea managed to earn a scholarship at this private school when she was 15, and in order to keep her place, she has to maintain a 4.0 GPA, join at least one extra curricular activity and immerse herself into the culture of the school (whatever that meant). 

Even though life managed to be shitty most of the time, there was one constant, one thing that made life worth living, one thing that made her the happiest…

“Crap”, the brunette clung onto the branch of the tree trying to regain her footing after narrowly avoiding her death (or more likely a trip to the hospital). After recovering from her mild slip, she rapped on the window beside her and a few seconds later the window slides open and as she enters the room she trips up on her own feet landing face down on the floor. 

“Real smooth”

Bea chuckles at the snark comment as she looks up and as the sunlight shines through the window, it highlights all the features of the other girl. She was shorter than Bea (although not in this moment since Bea was practically laying on the floor), her facial features were sharp and her strawberry blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Her plush pink lips were curled up in a small smile as she offered a hand to the girl to help her up. 

“I totally meant to do that” Bea takes her hand and lifts herself off the floor, and after she quickly dusts herself off and grabs the blonde’s wrist pulling her towards her while her other hand settles on her waist. “So how much time do we have?”

The petite girl wounds her arms around the taller girl’s neck and slightly tip toes to whisper, “my dad has dinner with a bunch of investors so he’s not going to be back until midnight”. A huge smile appears on her face as she leans back slightly taking in the appraising look of the brunette. 

“Perfect”. 

Bea moves in to kiss the blonde, passion already igniting as their tongues tangle in a fight for dominance until Bea suddenly pulls away, foreheads touching, eyes blazing with desire as she whispers against the other girl’s lips, “I missed you Pops”. 

The other girl rolls her eyes and unwinds her arms from Bea’s neck, slightly pushing her back and while maintaining eye contact she walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge, “shuttup, you literally saw me yesterday” her tone attempting to come across as catty but instead comes out in a more playful manner. 

Bea raises an eyebrow as she saunters to where the girl is sitting and places two fingers under the girl’s chin lifting her face until their eyes meet, “so? I’m suddenly not allowed to miss my girlfriend?” She leans in, her lips ghosts around the blonde’s lips. 

“You talk too much, come on we’re wasting daylight” the blonde grabs Bea’s shirt and pulls her down onto the bed with her as they tussle in the sheets, lips crashing against one another reigniting the same passion from the kiss before. 

“Poppy..” Bea all but moans when Poppy places wet kisses along her jawline and begins biting at her neck. Not wanting her to have all the fun, Bea suddenly flips Poppy over pressing her deeper into the mattress as she ravenously kisses her, as if Poppy is the only one who can satiate her desire, and honestly speaking? She probably is. 

“No more foreplay, I want you now” Poppy breathlessly says, breaking the heated kiss. Bea sits up to straddle Poppy, intertwining both hands with hers and places it above the blonde’s head and grinds on her hips earning a low groan from Poppy. 

“Ask and you shall receive my queen”

In response, Poppy rolls her eyes and her tongue darts out of her mouth, teasingly moving against her own soft lips and as Bea leans in for another kiss her slender fingers move lightly above Poppy’s inner thigh, touching everywhere except where Poppy wanted her the most. After a few pleads from the blonde, Bea finally indulges her desires and they moved in perfect syncopation. 

….. 

After a while, Bea and Poppy collapse into each other’s arms, exhausted but satisfied recovering from their physically demanding rendezvous. Bea lays on her back with one arm behind her head and one arm wrapped around the petite girl who fit perfectly in her larger frame. Poppy relaxes her head on Bea’s chest, feeling lulled by her heartbeat which brings her a sense of calm and security. Bea softly kisses her forehead and looks down at the girl, entranced by her beauty, enrapturing the way her breaths are slightly longer and deeper than usual, the way her hair falls around her face and how her fingers subconsciously ghost around Bea’s stomach drawing lazy shapes. 

Poppy Min Sinclair, a 5’2 blonde beauty who is Bea’s entire world. Everything about her screams perfection in Bea’s eyes. She’s a straight A student, captain of the cheerleading team, and likes to spend time volunteering at her local animal shelter and is secretly an amazing artist. Though her family was one of the richest families in Greensburg, Poppy wasn’t your average highschool rich girl. Though she would often go on regular shopping sprees and refuse to wear anything that wasn’t designer (unless it was Bea’s clothes), she never treated Bea any differently than how others would. She was a bright girl, who was loving, friendly, fierce when she needed to be and extremely loyal. When it was just her and Bea she could show her true self, not pretend to be someone she’s not or play a certain role, she could just simply be Poppy instead of Poppy Min Sinclair. Poppy often felt the gravity that came with her name, especially since that’s all her father pressured her to be, a Min Sinclair. 

Hayden Min Sinclair, Poppy’s father, owned an entire empire of companies, differentiating from technology based businesses to architecture and finance. To say he was a businessman was putting it lightly, he was almost like a god or at least someone who was highly worshipped by business moguls. He built up his family’s name and within a decade he was a force to be reckoned with. Hayden Min Sinclair worked his ass off to lift his companies off the ground because as a person of colour he knew he would have to work 10x harder to get what he wanted. All he ever wants is life for his daughter to be easy, the irony is, that he’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard. 

He’s a man of honour and pride and has never expected anything less from his daughter, hoping she would keep the dignity attached to the Min Sinclair name and bring it to new heights. So his traditionalist and conservative views means that he’s expecting Poppy to marry a man, who’s also an aristocrat, in which Bea is 0 for 2 for Poppy’s father’s expectations. Hence, Bea and Poppy have to keep their relationship a secret, a way to protect both Poppy and her future but also Bea from Mr Min Sinclair’s wrath. Reputation means everything to the Min Sinclairs and to Mr Min Sinclair specifically, especially after Poppy’s mother passed away when Poppy was 10 after an unfortunate incident of a drunken hit and run which left Poppy permanently broken from the loss of her mother but had all the socialites gossiping about the tragedy for months. To this day Poppy and her father still mourn her loss and Poppy often turns to Bea for comfort, for her companionship could provide the means of making her forget the empty presence of her mother that was left behind. 

They’d known each other since they were 7, when Bea used to live in the very same neighbourhood after the Min Sinclair’s moved into the neighbourhood, and they spent almost every waking hour together, attached by the hip. They were the best of friends and almost nothing could get in their way. Emphasis on the ‘almost’. 

When Bea’s father left Bea’s mother, Isabella when Bea was 8 and her sister Aria was 2, after finding out that Aria wasn’t his child as a result of a one night stand Isabella had, Bea’s family struggled to afford to live in the neighborhood especially since Bea’s father was the breadwinner of the house and their main source of income. After a series of bad decisions resulting in Bea’s mother losing her job as a banker, the 3 girls were forced to move to the south of Greensburg since it was the only thing they could afford. 

Bea and Poppy were still inseparable at this point, either Bea would take 2 buses to go to Poppy’s house or Poppy would call the family’s driver so she could go over the Bea’s. The breaking point for their friendship was the day when Bea’s mother once took the girls to the park when they were 11 and after she had gotten so intoxicated to the point she threw up in front of all the children, and Poppy’s father prohibited Poppy from seeing Bea again. 

“That girl and her family will bring shame to our family’s name, imagine what your mother would say” Poppy can still hear her father’s words ringing in her head from time to time, but everytime she looks at Bea, all her expectations would disappear and she would just simply be happy.

They began dating when they were 14, after Poppy had managed to scrounge up all her courage to kiss Bea on valentine’s day, after the two girls had snuck away to a diner to hang out like they would usually do. Poppy looked as if she was going to pass out from embarrassment when Bea didn’t reciprocate the kiss at first, however in Bea’s defence she was more startled than anything else. When Poppy was about to apologise Bea moved in and gave Poppy a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips and from then they decided they would be together. Bea couldn’t believe her luck when she was able to call Poppy hers, she felt like she didn’t have much to offer Poppy as she had yet to have earned the scholarship to Belvoire, the same school that Poppy had been attending. As well as coming from a troubled family life she didn’t want to implicate Poppy in any way but staying away from her had proven to be too difficult. 

The consequences of their forbidden love was much harder on her than it was on Poppy, still nevertheless she would do anything for Poppy, which was proven time and time again when they have to act like strangers at school. In spite of that, the stolen glances, the stolen moments, the stolen kisses, it made it all worth it. 

“Are you ready for school tomorrow” Poppy’s soft voice vibrated against Bea’s chest. 

Bea lets out a soft chuckle, “What do you think Pops? I’m the school’s lonely girl”

Bea’s reputation at Belvoire could not be worse, in a school filled with entitled brats, it was difficult for her to make any friends considering her economic background. She also couldn’t rely on Poppy and her popularity since she couldn’t be within any vicinity of the girl she loves. Bea and Poppy’s friends had a history of not getting along, and since Poppy couldn’t allow the true nature of her relationship with Bea to come to light, Bea had to deal with all sorts of harassment and bullying from them. Bea often had to remind herself that she was only a target because with money comes a lot of entitlement, especially from snobby teenagers. Moreover, the consequences of her mother’s actions also didn’t help Bea as the stories followed her everywhere, causing all sorts of rumours to spread like wildfire. 

Poppy lifted her head slightly to look into Bea’s eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant it’s the last year of highschool, that means one last chance for us to win nationals and for you to come on top for volleyball.”

As mentioned beforehand, the extra curricular Bea chose to partake in was volleyball, not only did being part of a winning sports team look good on a college application, it also helped Bea with releasing her pent up anger and dominating her competition. Her favourite thing in particular was the smaller group of cheerleaders, including Poppy, who were at every game after Poppy made a compelling argument to the principle about the importance of raising school spirit in all sport related inquiries. Bea would often steal a glimpse at Poppy, who always came up with extra dance moves and cheers, sending secret messages that she was rooting for her girlfriend. 

“One more year of highschool, do you know what that means Pops?” Bea smiled devilishly at Poppy who returned the smile and leaned her face in, lips ghosting around Bea’s. 

“Why don’t you remind me?”

Bea grabbed the blonde’s waist and stole a quick kiss, “One more year means that next year we’ll both be in New York, and we can finally be together for real”. 

“I can’t wait to live off campus with you, we should start looking at places now so we can get ahead and find a good place sin-” Bea cuts her off with a kiss while Poppy smiles, “I hate when you interrupt me with kisses”

“No you don’t”

“You’re right I don’t, but you better not slack this year Bea Hughes otherwise I’ll beat your ass if you don’t get into Columbia”

“I would never, I’m literally a better student than you babe. I would say you shouldn’t slack either but we all know daddy’s going to help you get into NYU.”

Poppy playfully slaps Bea on the arm who just laughs, “hey, no way in hell am I going to use the Min Sinclair name like that, when” (she made sure to put extra emphasis as she spoke) “I get into NYU it will be because of how amazing and talented I am” 

“Not to mention damn right gorgeous and smart and incredibly flexible”

Poppy moves to straddle Bea, hands on either side of her head and she leans in, “hmm, you think the admission office will be looking at those particular things?” her tone teasing and inviting. 

Bea attempts to move her head up only for Poppy to quickly place her perfectly manicured hand around her neck and push her down, Bea’s eyes flash as her voice pulsates with desire, “well I’ll definitely be looking, for educational reasons of course”

Poppy breaks out into a wide grin as the girls share a passionate kiss, tongues tangled together as they fight for dominance, Bea tries to envelop Poppy’s entire mouth with her kiss but Poppy’s unrelenting perseverance pushes through as she tightens the grip around Bea’s neck, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Bea succumbs to Poppy’s kisses and allows the blonde’s tongue to explore the inside of her mouth, getting lost in the wave of pleasure that emanates from Poppy’s lips. 

After a few more kisses, Bea looks at the digital clock sitting on top of Poppy’s dresser, “damn it’s getting late I should go”

“Wha- it’s barely 10 o’clock”, Poppy pouts as her eyebrows furrow slightly. 

“I know” Bea places a hand on Poppy’s face gently brushing against her cheekbone, “but you need your 8 hours of sleep and I gotta make sure everything is ready for Aria tomorrow”. 

Poppy sighs defeatedly as she knows how important Bea’s half sister is to her, she’s practically an older sister to Aria and is also incredibly protective of her too. “Well tell Aria I said hi”

Bea moves to stand and Poppy grabs her hand, “wait, you didn’t tell me, how’s your mom?”

Bea nonchalantly shrugged and gazed at the floor, “same old, same old, she drinks herself into oblivion not giving a shit about the rest of us” 

Poppy rubbed comforting circles on Bea’s hand, “don’t worry Bea one day it will get better” 

Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I’ve been saying that for almost 10 years”

She stalks over to the window and lets half of her body hang out ready to reach out to the tree, Poppy moves over and gives Bea one last lingering kiss, “You know you can use the front door, my dad’s not here”

“Yeah I know but it’s always so awkward when I run into Rita at this time because she knows that I’m screwing you”, Bea smiles while Poppy raises an eyebrow

“Screwing me?”

“Sorry I meant making love to you” she gives Poppy a quick kiss 

“Much better, and anyways Rita doesn’t care, she’s been rooting for us this entire time”

“It’s okay, don’t worry P, I’ve been climbing in and out of these windows and over that gate for years, how else do you think I got these muscles”, she flexes her toned arms while Poppy runs a hand over them, “I love you”

“I love you too”, Poppy watches as Bea moves out of the window, gripping the tree and making her descent, “wait” she shouts down, “where did you leave your bike?”

Bea smiles up at her, “I parked it a couple of blocks away from here it’s fine, I’ll text you when I get home” she blows a kiss to Poppy and begins making her way over the gate and into the street which shone bright from the lampposts. Poppy sighs and closes her window and begins getting ready for bed until a knock at her door catches her attention. Rita, her nanny and keeper enters the room and looks at Poppy with a knowing glance, ‘Bea didn’t want to stay for dinner?’ 

Poppy laughs slightly and shakes her head, “no she had to get home to make sure her sister is okay”

Rita leaves a plate with a few cucumber and cheese sandwiches on the dresser, “don’t stay up too late Miss Min Sinclair,” and with that she gives a little wave and leaves the room closing the door behind her. After eating half of her sandwich and going through her extensive nighttime routine, she receives a text from Bea

💖 B

Just got home now 

Love you and goodnight my love

Poppy smiles at her phone and then sets her phone on her dresser, not before putting it on charge, and drifts off to sleep. 

Bea on the other hand was wide awake. When she safely parked her motorbike near her house and texted Poppy as she entered the house. She looked up from her phone into the dark room to see the tv quietly playing while her mother was passed out on the couch with a half drunk bottle of vodka on the table. She moved towards the couch covering her mom with a blanket and then went into her bedroom to check on her sister who was soundly sleeping in her bed. Bea headed into the kitchen took some cold pizza from the fridge and did some last minutes checks to make sure both her and her sister were equipped and ready for school tomorrow. She settled in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about school and how challenging the first day back will be. 

read part 2: 

[obae-me]

Beneath Still Waters- CH 1

Miracle Meeting

Word count: 3600

Summary: It’s the first of many strange meetings you’ve yet to come across. As you feel you’ve hit rock bottom, someone comes along to give you an opportunity. Feeling like you have no other choice, you pack a bag and head to a town known as Old Midev, the place where your adventures will soon begin. 

Tags: (Mostly) Human AU, second person view, gender neutral reader, I do not endorse always following the advice of a stranger, but for trope purposes, it’s fun.

They say that despite the appearance of calm surfaces, you should always be aware of the danger of currents churning just beneath them. There’s a point people warn you about, for once you drift too far from shore, there’s a good chance you’ll never be able to come back, even for all your fights and struggles. The best thing for you to do at that point is move with the flow, all the better to keep your head above water. Is that what your life had come to at this point? Had you been swept along by unseen forces, working to barely keep afloat? 

A little raindrop made its way down the glass pane, weaving and shifting past other stagnant dots of moisture. The trail it left formed small beads before it drifted down too far, disappearing from view. The locomotive ticked and churned along its path, unaffected by the storm outside. You sighed, changing your posture after having sat in your current one too long. Everything in your body was stiff, your muscles were sore, but most of all you were undeniably nervous. Was this a mistake? You wondered. Had it been too good to be true? But at this point...was there a better alternative? In all honesty, your life was at a low point. A very low point. Due to circumstances beyond your control, you’d lost your job, been told you had to find a new place to live by the next month, and finding any sort of stability financially, mentally, or otherwise seemed nigh on impossible. 

That was, till about two days ago. Trying to scrounge up any semblance of peace, you’d taken a trip to a local park. Disheveled, heartbroken, you sat on a bench, pondering if soon you’d have to sleep on this very seat in the near future. At that point, it seemed like a very real possibility. Little kids threw balls at each other and screamed in joy, the birds around you sang without a care. Everyone else looked happy. Everyone else didn’t seem to struggle as you did. And while it seemed silly, you couldn’t help but seem envious of everything. Envious of the adults who seemed to have everything together. Envious of the free birds. Even envious of the little flowers planted in their permanent little pots. 

“Mind if I sit here?” A gentle voice snapped you out of your thoughts, some worry racing through your mind, wondering if the stranger had noticed how bitterly you watched the passersby. The man was a kind looking soul; bright blue eyes, dark-toned skin, well-kept clothes, a shining smile on his attractive features. A soft breeze ruffled his curly brown hair. He pulled his ivory jacket closer around him, adjusting the blue scarf around his neck, the ends of the fabric billowing behind his shoulders. Something about him struck you as otherworldly, but you couldn’t place it. 

Aware of the way you looked compared to him, you scooted a little closer to the edge of the bench, straightening your own clothes in an attempt to make your hoodie and sweatpants a bit more presentable. “Uh...sure…” 

As he sat down, he thanked you only to apologize right after. “I’m sorry, I just had a feeling...maybe you could use some company.” Had you really looked that pathetic? Like a wounded animal left on the side of the road and calling out for help? You refrained from making a comment, hunching your shoulders instead. The stranger tilted his head at you, then lifted his chin to observe the puffy clouds drift up above your heads. “A beautiful day,” he expressed. “Don’t you think?” Really? Out of everything that could’ve possibly happened today, a charming yet odd stranger basically asked how you thought the weather was? Was it a good day? Was today, a day you’d been handed two rejected applications, a day you’d been hunting for anyone to take you in, a day you felt as if nothing could get worse, a good day? “It doesn’t have to be a good day,” he started, speaking as if he’d directly read your thoughts, “For it to be a beautiful one.” The breath in your lungs stopped for a moment as you observed him with semi-wide eyes. How did he…? The man simply shot you a sympathetic grin. “Ah, sorry for the assumptions. It’s just, in my line of work, you tend to see a lot of people sport the same expression. I couldn’t help but notice it on you when I passed by.” 

Some heat poured into your cheeks. So you had been that easy to read. A small family walked by in front of you, one of the younger children running too far ahead. Their guardians hurriedly reminded them not to go too far. Once they passed, you straightened your slouched posture, taking a deep breath. “In your line of work?” 

“I’m a doctor,” he explained. 

“Ah…” How much despair had he seen, how many grief-stricken people had left such an impression on him that he could simply tell how someone was feeling just by their face? Was he an empath or just observant? It doesn’t have to be a good day for it to be a beautiful one, he’d said. The leaves off the trees shone different shades of green, some shifting to warm hues in preparation for the approaching autumn, rustling under the beams of sun branching out from behind the clouds that rolled past the grey-blue sky. The air was crisp enough for jackets, but not yet cold enough for coats. You could smell the aroma of freshly baked goods, the air carrying the scent from the bakery just across the street. It was...rather stunning. “I’m going to be homeless.” The truth slipped out of you before you could process even moving your lips. With it, your emotions followed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve been working towards has failed. My efforts amount--they amount to nothing! I don’t even know where to go or-or what to do anymore.” A choked back sob made your voice waver. “I’m sorry...I don’t even know you, I--I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just shared all that with a stranger.” The tears slowly began to dry as you brushed them away with the back of your hand. 

“Dr. Matthews,” he stated. “But you can call me Simeon.” 

You blinked, sniffling a little as you glanced quizzically at him. “Huh?” 

He rummaged for a few things in the confines of his pockets. With an outstretched hand, he offered you two things. One, a tissue, something you accepted with more than a little sheepishness as you dabbed the end of your nose with it. The second was a business card. It was a white and rather professional looking little paper with gold lettering. The name and title ‘Dr. Simeon Matthews’ was printed on the front, along with his email, business phone number, and website address. “Now I’m not a total stranger.” He smiled earnestly, and something about the idea of a doctor easily convinced that simply sharing a name would immediately make you acquaintances let a bubble of amusement float to the top of your mind. 

“Simeon?” You repeated, and he nodded to confirm you’d gotten it right. The vowels slid past your lips. “It’s a nice name.” 

He beamed at the compliment. “Thank you.” His long legs shifted and his hands fidgeted in his lap as he struggled with an internal thought. “Tell me...have you heard of Old Midev?”  You hadn’t. In fact, you couldn’t even tell what he was referring to by name alone. A book? A show? An illness? “It’s a little old town quite a ways from here, but it’s where I grew up. It’s so small most maps don’t even bother displaying it,” he chuckled. Homesickness stood out behind his eyes, his smile a lonely one. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve been home...Do you like house-sitting?” His question left you stunned, and a pit formed in your stomach. You could connect the dots. Was he inferring what you thought he was? 

“Simeon!” A high voice turned both your heads. A child about the age of ten or twelve was awkwardly running towards the bench with a little plastic container in his hands. Golden hair bobbed across his forehead as he stood before the man and presented the container; a little cupcake with pink frosting and pearl-like sprinkles dwelled inside. From under the kid’s blue jacket sleeves, you spotted bandages as well as a medical bracelet covering his wrists. “I managed to get one! They let me watch them make it fresh! Doesn’t it look delicious?” 

“It looks amazing, Luke!” Simeon addressed the pale child. “But remember what I told you about running?” 

Luke huffed and raised his nose. “I’m old enough to buy this by myself! I can handle running a little.” 

“I just want to be cautious is all,” Simeon assured him. The doctor used a hand to gesture towards the kid. “This is Luke, he’s a patient of mine.” Your heart quickly sank. It explained the bracelet, why Luke looked too pale, why his bright tufts seemed so thin. Simeon noticed your face quickly drain, and he playfully ruffled Luke’s hair. “He’s been a fighter, but it’ll end up being moot if you waste all your energy running around like a rabid chihuahua!” 

Luke, affronted, swatted Simeon’s hand away and fixed the stray strands. “I’m not a chihuahua!” There was fire in him yet. He pulled the cupcake box closer to his chest like he had to protect it. His sweet innocence and their wholesome dynamic let a smile curl across your face, something that hadn’t happened to you for a while. “Who’s your friend, Simeon?” 

The man hesitated. He didn’t know how to explain that you two had literally just met, and your name had yet to be announced. He’d probably refrained from asking in the event it would make you uncomfortable. You drifted your sight between the two of them, the sense of unease devoid from your intuition. Usually you could trust your gut on sketchy strangers. The two of them felt warm, safe, strangely familiar, like you’d been fated to cross paths. Some faith in your humanity was restored, and as you looked at Luke, you remembered that other people were suffering too. If he could, you too could fight a little longer. With a little sigh, you let some of the heavy weight of hopelessness slide off your shoulders, and you shared your name. 

And that was simply the beginning of your journey. A meeting of miracles. 

Simeon had asked you again how you felt about house-sitting, and before he took off with Luke, he encouraged you to give the number on his card a call once you’d thought it over. Now here you were, on a train to this town of his, doing something potentially reckless. Old Midev...small alright. After you’d double checked Simeon’s doctorate claims, you’d searched this town. It did exist, but it took you a while to find it. For the longest time, the only result that would show up were some crackhead conspiracy posts on a mystic sea creature written by someone calling themselves The Sorcerer. There was only a lake in that town, nothing really seaworthy about it. Nothing really note-worthy about it, in fact. From the overhead map view, you could see a school, a library, a park, a gym, a grocery store, a few other scattered businesses--basically the bare minimum--and that was it. There were only about 800 people, and even that was slowly declining as residents moved away. But in that town held the potential of some support, a shelter, some hope, at least until you could get back on your own two feet. 

The train buckled a bit, the speed starting to decline. You picked your head up, eyes heavy as you’d almost begun to nod off. Only now did your heart begin to pound. New people. A new environment. Would you be able to tell people you were basically someone’s charity case? That you were going to be squatting in someone’s empty home till you could sort yourself out? Groaning, you tapped your feet against the floor to get your nerves out. It took about another ten minutes before the train came to a complete stop. The luggage you’d brought with you resided in a single large suitcase in the proper compartment. Everything else you owned you had boxed up and placed in a storage unit in your old city. 

If the station you stepped out onto was a testament to what the town was like, you could see that it truly lived up to the name Old Midev. The train had pulled next to the only station in town. It almost seemed as if the station itself was built before the rails, and they conveniently converted it into a station as an afterthought. It looked more like a barn than anything. A little red wooden building with rusty red walls and white trim that had begun to chip and grey with time. The platform was decorated with log benches, carved animal statues, and barrels that had been cut in half to serve as flower planters. There was a nice little overhead to keep people--and you--from standing out in open weather. Even though it was still raining, it had lessened to a light sprinkle. As you tried to move, your luggage quickly got snagged on a nail sticking out from the creaking floorboards underneath you. With a tug, you got it free. The pistons to the train hissed as they prepared to shut the doors behind you. It’s your last chance to turn around. It’ll be hard to get out of this if you stay, you told yourself. And yet you stood your ground, watching the train start to chug away. 

Simeon had given you some insight into a few things before he’d so graciously purchased your ticket for you. One, he told you that you were welcome to stay as long as you needed. Yes, this town housed his home, and yet his work had him traveling constantly, so there was no one there to look after it. Two, his extra set of keys was in a compartment behind a wall plaque with a proverb on it. And three, a friend of his would be waiting at the station when you arrived to help take you to the house you’d be staying at. Only...you were seemingly the only living soul around. Swiveling your head to observe the area around you, you only further confirmed this. There was no one else here. No one was sitting down, no one was inside the building when you peeked in the windows. Being alone in...such an unfamiliar place...out in the middle of nowhere. Your blood started to run cold. Should you have done more background checks on Simeon? Yes, there was a website and a secretary and Luke and everything...but maybe it had all been staged! Was it all fake? Did you make a mistake? What were you even doing hopping on a train to come all the way out here?! Sure you had joked about dropping your entire life to move to a desolate place and change the way you lived, but you never thought it would be this frightening in the moment!

“Hey.” The monotone voice of someone behind you made you shout. You quickly turned, placing your suitcase in front of you in the event you needed to use it as a shield. You’d brought a self defense keychain with you and hidden it in your sleeve. Up until now, you hadn’t had to use it yet...but you would if you were desperate. There before you, occupying the space you could’ve sworn was empty, was a man; ripped jeans, dark circles under his eyes about as dark as the large sweatshirt he was wearing. Floppy purple hair with frosted ends hovered in front of his vision. He had a chain around his neck, a dirty look across his face, and a strange intense stance. You were dead. You knew it. Somehow you’d been fooled into coming here, and now you were about to be killed. “Are you the person Simeon sent?” 

Oh...was this the friend Simeon had talked about? Your nerves were still on edge, but you found it a little easier to breathe. “Y-yes...are you…” 

“Yeah. He sent me here to pick you up. I’m kinda late, I-” He was interrupted by his own large yawn. “I overslept. But it’s whatever.” Wasn’t it already dipping into the late afternoon? There was still some trepidation inside you, and he must’ve finally noticed your defensive stance. “Oh. Simeon told me to say ‘seraph’...I think it was the word.”  Seraph had been Simeon’s little safety measure to try and ease your anxiety and to prove who to trust. It was such a random little word, you’d doubted anyone could come up with it without being told by Simeon first. Your shoulders loosened a bit. Although, still...not to stereotype...but you found it interesting that a character like Simeon would be friends with someone like...this person before you. He appeared as if he’d torn up his entire wardrobe with a set of knives and yet looked entirely comfortable about it. Like...soft-emo-core. And yet their clashing attire wasn’t what bothered you...it was Simeon’s angelic nature vs...this person’s apathetic attitude. Well, who were you to judge? Simeon just always threw more surprises at you. 

“Yeah. That was the word.” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. “Thanks for coming to pick me up. I wouldn’t know left from right here.” 

His blank face managed a little laugh. “Most people don’t. Anyway, come on, my brother has the car running.” He already started walking off, not even bothered to check to make sure you were following. You muttered some curses in your head before dragging your heavy suitcase behind you, trying not to trip on the uneven platform. 

“Your brother?” 

“Yeah, I don’t like driving,” he replied, kicking a few stray rocks as he hopped off the platform and onto an unpaved road. A large four-door red pickup truck was idling a few feet ahead. Through the darkened window, you could see another man--the brother, you pieced together--eating behind the wheel. You grimaced. Getting inside a vehicle with two people you didn’t know was exactly the sort of thing you’d been told not to ever do. The one time your escort actually looked back was the time you’d hesitated. “What,” he smirked. “You think we’re going to murder you or something?” 

You stopped in your tracks. “Maybe! I don’t know you!” Your accusatory tone came out of nowhere. “You still...Simeon told me the name of the person coming to get me. You haven’t told me your name.” 

He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth. Even if he’d told you, you weren’t sure you'd fully believe him. The main factor that contributed to some trust was all thanks to the person who rolled down the window of the truck, swallowing another handful of fries. “Belphie! Why didn’t you help them with their suitcase?” The name was right. Simeon had told you the person coming to get you would’ve been called Belphie. Strange name. Much like the password, you doubted anyone would’ve just made up a name like that on the spot. 

“Eh. I didn’t feel like it. It looks heavy,” Belphie admitted. You almost glared at him. What is with this guy?

The other man opened the door and stepped out of the truck. He was wearing a tracksuit. Red jacket and matching crimson pants, both of which had black stripes running vertically up the sides. He was wearing a black shirt underneath, a little bright stain of some sort smudged on his chest, probably some condiment from what he’d been eating. Unlike his brother, he had bright red hair and an expressive face, although his voice shared the same consistent and unwavering deep tone like his sibling. He stepped towards you, almost giving you a heart attack when you realized just how tall and muscular he was. God help any creature that dared to upset him. When he moved his arm in your direction, you felt faint, but then he simply grasped your luggage with one hand and plucked it up from the ground, settling it gently in the bed of the truck. 

He turned on his feet towards you, Belphie slinking away to get into the passenger seat of the car without even offering to help. “You’re MC, right? Simeon told us some about you.” The doctor hadn’t known you for very long, so the ‘some’ must’ve been the whole...rock bottom explanation. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to point behind him. “That’s my twin, Belphie.” Twins? They didn’t exactly strike you as such just on an observational standpoint, but it’s not as if twins were always identical. “Sorry about him. He gets grumpy when he’s tired.”

“It’s okay…” You mustered up a polite grin. 

“You can call me Beel.” Beel opened one of the backdoors to the car, quickly clearing the backseat by shoving old takeout bags into one slightly bigger bag before settling it on one spot on the floor, looking a bit proud of his swift cleaning job. “Hop in, MC. Let’s bring you to Old Midev.” 

[thequibblah]

⭐

anon: omg hi I think I sent in a ~free choice~ directors cut a while back but if you can't think of anything you wanna talk about I would LOVE to hear more about the way you write the Snape/Lily relationship and and the way it breaks apart, and even specific scenes related to it because in this house we are Anti S/nily

i hope this person was you but if not HAHA i will take this opportunity to answer their prompt as a "free choice" if you don't mind!

so. good old.... severus. ahhh.

writing interactions between snape and lily is like, one of the most rewarding challenges of this fic. now.... pitchforks away, my lovelies.... it's such an interesting emotional space to explore on her end, to me. personally i've never had a friendship end over something big and irrevocable, so it's really brand-new water to tread.

what makes it even more fascinating is that because of the setup of CT — starting after the lake incident — snape is less a presence in her life and more an absence she's working around. if i can get boring and pretentious for a sec, this was something i worked on a lot in college creative writing classes — writing about a thing in the past by avoiding it, or touching upon it and flinching away, or approaching it sideways.

now. we none of us have the patience of serious literary fiction readers in our fic HAHAHHA so this is a lot more dialled-back (dialled-forward??). but that was basically the approach to begin with, with these two. and then it was a matter of exploring the trajectory of it — how when the wound is rawest, lily is actually most forgiving and generous towards him, as she's had less time and space away from him/their friendship, and is busy making excuses for him.

(aside: i didn't realise until actually confronted by it that so much of her attitude towards him comes from her attitude towards petunia, a relationship in which she got used to receiving barbs before she gave them back, but the blood tie keeps her from a clean break. with snape there's no blood relation, obviously, but there's a shared sense of history, of childhood, that kind of lives in the same part of lily's brain/heart. so... really, two people who loathe each other overlap quite significantly in lily's emotional landscape.)

re: lily's excuse-making — it doesn't help that the only person who pushes her on snape is james. (her friends all have learned to avoid the subject, as you do when your friend is friends with someone you don't like but you can't say anything until after they're finished, and then you're like omg thank GOD i hated them from the start!!! but of course in this case they couldn't go overboard with that sentiment, lest it come off as "you should've known better/we knew better and you didn't") thanks to the circumstances of the lake incident, some of those messy feelings towards snape are entangled in messy feelings towards james (early on in the story especially), so the resulting conflict is.... bad....

She half-stumbled backwards, as if she’d been slapped. “I don’t need you to remind me,” she hissed. To her embarrassment, tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. But if she’d thought that would make him back off, she was wrong. “Yeah, except you do need the reminder,” said James. “Because you don’t get it yet. He chose them. Not you.” Lily was shaking. “I believe in second chances,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “But you really, really test my faith, James.” And without waiting for him to answer, she stormed up the girls’ staircase, wiping at her cheeks.

bad.

lily's true blind spot is, of course, that she's more willing to forgive snape's missteps with her. and of course james has to go and point that out :/

“Let me put it this way. If Sni — if Snape were Mary’s friend and he’d said that to her, wouldn’t you tell Mary she ought to never speak to him again?” Lily shifted uneasily. “Well, sure, but I’ve known him since—” “—you were children, whatever. Say Mary did too. Would that change anything for her?”

so the first time lily is like wait actually fuck this!!! it's because he reminds her, in an argument, about how callous he can be — a callousness which i think she's never liked, but it's easier to forgive sharpness when it's your friend poking fun at people you don't like, and less easy when...

“Yes, do let’s talk about Potter,” she said, dangerously calm now. “Let’s talk about how your mate Mulciber used an Unforgivable Curse on him—” To her absolute shock, Severus scoffed. “It was three bloody seconds—” “Shut up,” Lily said, too stunned to think of something better to say. “Shut up, you don’t seriously think that — that because the two of you have a childish rivalry, he deserves torture?” “That’s not what I said,” he replied, looking mutinous. “I just meant, everyone’s acting like he’s some big survivor — always playing for attention—”

...well, when that.

best/worst impulses aside, lily knows that the true measure of someone is how they treat the people they dislike, not their friends, and in a sense his attitude towards james (and generally other people) in this scene makes her realise what she'd read as inconsideration or insensitivity is in fact...

"...You’re weak-willed and pathetic and you’re — you’re not a good person.”

...so there's that.

as anyone who's read lily's current petunia drama will know, she's got a bit of a problem with letting go. but after her mother's death (and the attached stick to your sister she's all you've got), she manages a weirdly good break from cokeworth — because a lot of her childhood was wrapped up in hogwarts, and in snape (whom she hasn't spent vacation time with in over a year at that point). with neither at hand, she hardly has time to process it/feel homesickness.

but note this, at the start of 7th year:

“Was last year nothing to you?” Her voice had sharpened. “I wasn’t freezing you out to punish you, Severus. I was treating you how I plan on treating you from now on.”

of course lily's just making a point here, but when i wrote that i was like wow she (and i lol) are kind of onto something — snape totally does think this is like, a temporary purgatory period after which she really will come around. and through months of her getting visibly closer to his nemesis, he holds onto that belief — despite what she says. (funnily enough, childhood rose-tinted glasses make them both see what they want to see in each other, in very different ways)

that's why when he hears her say what she says to una in that hogsmeade trip, he immediately comes to his own conclusions. that was another important, interesting thing for me — for other slytherins, "loose ends" are opportunities for cruelty, for punishment, to finish what they've started. (not so for regulus, who's grown up with sadism and is frankly repulsed by the idea of pain for a flimsy cause — best believe there was absolutely a point to him orchestrating an attack on the teacher getting close to his brother. but that's another story.)

not for severus either — his loose end, in his own mind, will always be lily. he senses that something's broken, but he has absolutely no self-awareness about what it is, and his extending an olive branch was more about her coming to his level than him going to hers (aka the way apologies ought to work). he realises, over a year out, that it's up to him to fix it, but it's too late — lily's quite moved on at that point, and her residual emotions towards him are indifference and pity.

if only snape had known to leave it there!

looping full circle back to the lake incident, then, the argument in 41 is once again very personal — but rather than him pushing her away, it's him trying to get her close again. and now, stressed about all the bs in the world but also with all the petunia-related learn-to-let-go stuff fresh in her mind, lily is absolutely in the right state of mind to recognise when she's wrongly judged someone. this calls for scorched earth, she realises, or she'll never be able to shake him and move on for good.

and so what started with severus telling her that she's special, that there's a place in a new world for her, ends sort of the same way.... and the break that began with his casual, almost unintentional cruelty, ends with her very deliberate cruelty. as a bonus, she's ready now to use the one thing he's always wielded like a shield in their arguments — james, how the marauders are, etc. etc. — against him, and genuinely mean it.

(she might regret that soon. but not the way you'd think!)