#except not really? because i technically HAVE been packing for the past like 3 hours

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY ONE (PART TWO) || JAMAIS VU

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 27 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : jujutsu koshien

↳ next episode : the origin of blind obedience 

↳ barista’s notes : lets play a little game...find the genshin reference ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“May I ask why you are following me right now?”

At this moment in time, you were seated within a train in the Tokyo Underground Metro travelling to your planned destination wearing a white button-up shirt with the first two buttons loose since it was quite oversized that was tucked into a pair of wide-legged trousers since you didn’t want it to show at the bottom of your large oversized grey v-necked sweater with the final touch of a pair of Stan Smiths that Gojo had gifted you the second you entered the Gojo’s estate after packing the last of your things back at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - ‘think of it as a housewarming gift’ you remember him saying.

Speaking of Gojo…

“Why not~ It’s mine and your’s off-day, so let’s have a father-daughter day out together!” Gojo exclaimed in an excited tone, as he tilted his glasses down to look slightly down at you, showcasing his sparkling blue eyes with a cheeky smile planted on his face.

Turning your head to the side to look at him, you couldn’t help but want to snatch his glasses off and throw them across the other side of the train carriage since you have informed him all the time that you wanted to go on this outing of yours alone due to the fact that you wanted to clear your head about everything that has happened within the past week.

“Also, why the hell are those three following me?” you questioned in an annoyed whispered tone as you turned your head back to face forward before crossing your leg over your other one as you could sense the lingering but obvious trail of cursed energy from the other side of the carriage. However, you didn’t want to make it crystal clear that you knew Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki were sitting on the other end looking at you while trying to not be or look suspicious.

“Well, let’s just say they are worried about you~” Gojo answered before placing one of his hands on the top of your head before beginning to gently ruffle your hair causing you to relax from your tense posture since it left a somewhat warm feeling in your heart - you also have gotten used to this little action of his since he would do the same thing when you were walking around the estate.

“So where are you planning to go? I did jump on this train because you were going in it,” Gojo asked, as he fixed his glasses leading you to look up to find that the next stop was the stop you were looking for, causing you to stand up and walk towards the exit leading Gojo to follow since he was just going by your lead at this moment in time.

“Kiyose Station?” Gojo said in a curious tone, only for you to step out of the train the second the doors opened leading Gojo to follow you as well as the three first-years that were trailing you from behind, just a few feet away to not get caught by you - even though, you already knew that they were stalking you from behind.

‘Really...did these guys forget I can sense their cursed energy?’

“Yeah, I guess I never really told you that I come here every year…’ you quietly confessed, causing Gojo to look at you with a confused expression before wondering why you were willing to take an hour-long journey for something to come to every year on the same day.

“Is that so?” Gojo questioned before looking up to the sky as he took in a deep breath of the fresh air that he was able to obtain after a long journey in the underground train station.

From his view, the sky was quite clear making it known to him that you probably had checked the weather beforehand when you were planning to go wherever he was following you to, you were always the type to be somewhat prepared for the day from what he could remember from past outings. For example, when you and him came out of a cafe to find that it was raining, you immediately took out an umbrella and held it above you and him even when you knew he could use his infinity to protect himself from the wet droplets.

“Don’t use your technique too much, just use an umbrella, you drag,” he recalled you saying and to be honest, he was somewhat gleeful at the fact you treated him the way you did. It was like you cared for him but didn’t want to explicitly admit it or make it too obvious, he felt like you were treating him like he wasn’t above you in the jujutsu world, you were basically the reason why he could relax and get away from the gripping pressure of being ‘the strongest’ - instead, you gave him the role of a father figure that he wasn’t an ideal person for, but you could tell he was trying.

“You know we are here right, you’re too much in a daydream right now,” you announced causing Gojo to snap his head back down to see a simple fence gate in front of a massive and bright field of sunflowers looking at his way like they were greeting him with their yellow happy petals.

“A sunflower field?” Gojo asked in a confused tone causing you to give a somewhat deadpan expression before turning back around to open the gate before entering the large field with other guests already hiding within the mass of tall flowers as you could sense your triplet classmates coming closer.

“You know, I knew I had weird classmates, but I didn’t know how weird…” you mentioned, causing your adoptive father to start laughing before wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both began to walk around to view the tall flowers that had been planted and grown for the season causing Gojo to somewhat come to the realisation that you had some fascination with flowers ever since he had come to meet you - except for your weird addiction to orange juice that he learned first.

“Wah~ the sunflowers are in full bloom~” Gojo excitedly beamed out, causing some visitors to look at the tall man with a surprised expression to then quickly turn into admiration when they realise how handsome the man looked causing you to cringe since this is what you wanted to avoid coming here.

“So why do you like flowers Y/N?” Gojo suddenly queried you causing you to turn your head up to look at him while continuing to stroll down the path you both were going at, leading you to begin questioning how your fascination with flowers came about and to be honest….

“I don’t know,” you answered in a low tone before turning back to view the beautiful display that was surrounding you with the warmth you needed right now. “I guess...it’s like a remedy...one that I need,” you further explained causing Gojo to look down at you with a small smile before turning his head back slightly over his shoulder to notice his over students a few feet back arguing about whatever they were talking about while trying to keep up with the both of you - it seemed like his unnecessary tall height somewhat helped them to scout both you and him.

“Also, the estate is so dull, you need some sort of colour, so I might as well buy some sunflowers here,” you quickly added, causing the strongest sorcerer to quickly snap his head back to look at you before childishly complaining how the estate looked fine and there was no need to judge the decor of the clan house you were living in at his current moment, only for you to counter his argument with how paintings weren’t helping and the empty antique vases were not going to fill themselves up magically.

“The servants can find flowers, you don’t need to do this yourself,” Gojo mentioned causing you to give him a side look before saying that you wanted to do this, leading Gojo to close his mouth quickly as he suddenly remembered how you would always help out even when they would try to push you away since they were worried about you over-working when you were emotionally recovering this week. He also recollected how you would just admit that you were used to doing chores yourself since you had lived alone for six years before he took you in.

Unexpectantly, you turned somewhere to the right causing Gojo to be somewhat surprised since he didn’t expect you to take a sudden different route, only for his eyes to come into the sudden appearance of a little market place where some people (especially some elders) selling vegetables, small accessories, flowers and what seemed to be some charms.

However, it seemed like you weren’t telling him where you were planning to start since you were now basically just guiding him to wherever you wanted to go - after all, it was his first time here and probably needed some guidance from you.

From behind, Itadori and Kugisaki were chatting about how they were going to stay hidden away from you, while Fushiguro looked exhausted with both of them by his side and somewhat knew that you knew they were following you since he remembered that you were able to sense people’s cursed energy like a tracking system - he even reminded both his classmates about this technique of yours and they flat out ignored it, not recalling his first lesson when him and Itadori were forced into a maid cafe while tailing their teacher.

“Gojo knows a lot of places, doesn’t she?” Kugisaki muttered in amazement as she spun around to obtain a 360-degree view of the sunflower scenery that they were at right now, leading Itadori to agree with her as he smiled happily at the bright-like atmosphere that was surrounding them right now.

“Fushiguro, look! There are so many!” Itadori beamed, leading Kugisaki smacking him on the head before informing him that he was being too loud and they were about to get caught causing Fushiguro to let out a sigh in slight annoyance.

‘I can tell she’s laughing at us, right now’ Fushiguro thought as he could see your shoulders going up and down like how they would when you would giggle.

As time went on, the trio kept tabs on you as you went from market stall to market stall to view those items that the sellers had for sale leading them to wonder what you were looking for since you never really took the time to bring out your wallet and pay for whatever the seller would pitch you.

“These are so cute, why didn’t she buy them?” Kugisaki questioned as she lifted up a pair of sunflower earrings that you had previously viewed causing the seller to start telling her how they made it and how beautiful they would look on her, while Fushiguro looked to the side peering at you and Gojo only to discover you at this one stall where the seasoned sunflowers were being sold.

However, before you could even ask the seller for a bouquet, a little girl sudden ran up to the stall asking their mother if they could get a sunflower, only for the worried woman to inform their child that they weren’t about to afford it due to them using the last of their money to pay for the food that they ate causing the little girl to quickly become quiet before turning back around to view the bright flowers that she wasn’t able to get with tears pending in her eyes.

“Excuse me madam, how much for two flowers?” you asked gently, causing the old woman being the stall to turn her head to look at you before answering your question with a price leading you to place a purchase while adding your bouquet to the order, causing the little girl standing beside you to look at you with a confused expression since she didn’t understand why you were buying a whole bouquet of her favourite flowers with two single ones alone.

While the woman was wrapping the last of the single sunflower she was preparing for you in the classic brown paper, you gently took the one she had finished before handing it to the small child that was by your side, causing her to look at the flower in complete awe before looking up at you, only to see a small but gently smile painted on your face.

“It’s for you,” you informed her in a light and soft tone, leading the girl to slowly take the bouquet away from your grasp before noticing how you were going to pay extra for the black ribbon tied around the flower as well as the white baby breaths that surrounded the single flower before giving the other single flower to them mother that was behind the child, causing the woman to look at you in shock before thanking you for the gift as she didn’t expect you to buy something for her as well after you gifted her daughter with what she wanted.

“What do you say to the nice lady, dear?” the mom questioned her daughter causing the little girl to look confused before realising what she meant as she jumped in excitement.

“Thank you so much, miss!” the girl cheered, causing you to smile at her before excitingly showing the mother the flower you had gifted her as you then turned back around to collect the bouquet that you had brought for yourself as you processed to give her the amount of money needed for the large purchase.

“Shame...and I thought you were giving one each to me and you…” Gojo muttered with a pout, causing you to give him a weirded-out side glance before scoffing in amusement.

“Never in a million years dad,” you answered in a teasing manner before making your way towards the trio that was at the stall behind you, leaving the strongest sorcerer shocked at what you had just said to him, as the duo of Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara screamed at your sudden appearance since they would they were in the clear, while Fushiguro was looking at you with a gentle but his usually stoic face as he somewhat found out about your side of kindness you had for other people.

“Gojo!” Itadori screamed, causing you to give them a small smile.

“So...care to explain why you have been following me since I left the estate? Why is it once you finally get a break from being a sorcerer, rather than taking a rest, you instead come to me?” you questioned in a sinister tone, causing all three of your classmates to shiver at the dark aura that was emitting itself from your body right now.

However, before they were even able to answer in their frightened state, Gojo suddenly launched himself at you from behind with tears in his eyes causing you to yell at him for his childish behaviour, only for him to wrap his arms around your shoulders before rocking you from side to side in pure happiness.

“You called me ‘dad’, come on, say it again! One more time!” Gojo requested in pure glee as tears of happiness streamed down his face with a silly smile, leading the trio behind you to look at the sorcerer with pure horror as you informed him that he was already asking you for too much as once was enough causing Gojo to complain in a childish voice again that ‘it wasn’t too much’ and that you have to say it again, almost causing you to smack the bouquet across his face.

“Let me go!” you yelled out, as you tried to pry Gojo’s arms that were around your shoulder while trying not to crease the flowers that you have just bought only for your adoptive father to cling onto you tighter to which caused your body to give up and you stood there with a disheartened expression on your face, completely forgetting that Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki had followed you here as you had another issue to deal with.

While this was going on, Fushiguro couldn’t help but continue to recall the situation that had happened earlier between you and the little family, especially the small action of your hand going down to pass the flower to the little girl...as if a hand has reached down to him before leading little images of a hand passing him a bandage came into view, yet he didn’t seem to have any recollection of it...like a memory, he technically didn’t remember.

“Gojo?” Fushiguro called you out, causing you to turn to him while grasping on the bright sunflowers that were facing his way as if to give him encouragement to say what he was planning on asking you.

“What’s the opposite of Deja vu?”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[mermaidxatxheart]

Better Together Chapter 4

Okay, y'all. I'm posting this just before I go on vacation. If you want to be added to my tag lists, send an ask. My work is not to be reposted anywhere. A big thank you to those who have proof-read this for me. I don't know what I would do without you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, violence, angst. This is where it gets rough.

Chapter 3

Chapter Four

You sit up violently with a scream, clutching at your chest, but it’s not really your chest you’re worried about. You scramble for your friend, but he’s not at the edge of the cave, it’s still dark outside. You’ve probably been asleep for an hour, no more than two.

“Poe!” You call frantically. “Dameron!”

He skids back into the entrance, back into your blessed view, buckle undone on his trousers. “Hey, I’m right here. What happened?” He asks, reaching for your arms.

Your hands press shakily against his chest, desperate to feel his solid heartbeat. “I—“ you stutter.

It was just a dream.

“You’re freezing.” He comments, rubbing your arms to get you warm.

“Wh-what were you doing outside?” You ask, teeth starting to chatter as the shivering hits you.

“Taking a leak. I was just outside.” He leads you back over to the fire and drapes his jacket around your shoulders. “Here, sit in front of the fire, sweetheart. Let’s get you warm.” He builds the fire back up, and while the heat of it dances across your skin, it never goes any deeper.

He starts to stand up but you grab his wrist pleadingly. “Don’t leave me?” You whisper. He seems taken aback by the sheer desperation in your voice, so he nods and settles behind you.

“Close your eyes. I’m right here.” He says softly and you pull his arm around you, needing him close. He presses his forehead to the back of yours and you can feel his breath on your neck. You can feel your hands trembling as you clutch at his and he holds you tighter.

“Do you think,” he starts, lifting his head to speak softly into your ear. You start at the noise and turn to listen better. “Do you think Leia is sobbing uncontrollably right now because of how much she misses me?” He asks quietly and your lips pull up at the corners against your will.

“I’m sure she’s managing somehow. It’s difficult, but I think she can hold on.” You reply, shifting to lay your head back down.

“I hope so. I’d hate to be the reason she suffers so.” He says dramatically and you snort loudly before you can stop yourself. “Bless you.” He adds, his voice dripping with a grin.

“You definitely cause her to suffer.” You mutter and he squeezes your side, exactly where you hate. You squeal and squirm, trying to get away, but he grabs you and presses you flush against him.

“You’re so mean to me.” He sighs, dropping his head against your shoulder, but his nonsense worked, you feel a little better as he holds you so you can sleep.

***

Poe Dameron is…. confusing. And soft. Big giant Ewok. Ever since you woke up this morning, he’s been gentle. Cracking jokes to get you to smile, walking next to you instead of in front of you, taking your hand more often.

About mid morning, you stop for a break. Your legs don’t feel any better and you almost wish you had taken Poe up on his offer to massage them. You ease down onto a log and he hands you some food from his pack.

You close your eyes against the light, sweat trickling down the back of your neck. No matter how many times you wipe it away, more takes its place. You can see Poe in your mind’s eye, leaning against the trunk of the tree across from you, legs crossed at the ankles. You can hear him chewing on the snack he noisily unwrapped.

You can hear a strange noise, almost like a whooshing, or a whistling as something big moves through the air. You try to open your eyes to look around, but your lids won’t cooperate. You feel something swing past your ear, rustling your hair into your face. A big spiked log heading straight for Poe. You scream his name, trying to move to get to him. The spiked log flattens against the tree and you see his legs go slack. You scream, the sound ripping from your throat in anguish as you struggle against whatever is holding you in place.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” Poe’s voice reaches you. He’s shaking you roughly as you fight against his hands. It takes you a minute to realize he’s the one holding you, and another to pry your eyes open and look at him. He’s blurry, confusingly so, until you realize you’re crying. “Hey, you’re okay. I’m right here.” He says, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m right here.” The tears spill over and he brushes them away with his thumbs, searching your face. “You fell asleep on me.” He says, half a smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t like it here.” You whisper, throat sore from the scream. “I don’t like it.” You shake your head, dropping it against his chest. His big hand cradles the back of your head, stroking your hair softly.

“I know. Just a couple more days and then we’ll go tell Leia that this planet won’t work.” He promises.

“Except it’s almost perfect.” You groan.

“Not if it’s doing this to you. Hey, look at me.” He says gently, guiding your head back. “Wanna leave? We’ll go back right now.”

You want to. You want to take him up on it so badly. Your hands twitch towards his, but you force them to stay still. “No. We have a mission to complete.” You mumble and he sighs.

“Alright. Just say the word, sweetheart, and we’re gone.” He assures you and you nod.

***

“Know what I would kill for right now?” He huffs, lifting you over a log.

“A more capable partner?” You mutter dully.

“Ice cream. Cold, sweet, melty, chocolate, beebleberry, denta bean.” He hums, wiping his face. “Mmm. Denta bean.” He licks his lips and your eyes are suddenly drawn to them. He’s hot. His face is flushed from sweating and so much hiking. He needs to take a break.

“Hey, hey. Poe.” You grab his arm and he spins into you abruptly. “Sit. You need water.” You tell him, pushing him down onto the ground. He pulls you into his lap with him and you can’t stop the smile that cracks through.

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking hair behind your ear as you fumble for his canteen.

“I’m fine. I promise I won’t fall asleep this time.” You say.

“You can sleep on me any time.” He huffs. You pick up his canteen and frown.

“Drink.” You insist, holding the skein to his soft lips.

He parts them, allowing the cool liquid to flow in. His dark eyes never leave you as he drinks. After a few seconds, he captures your wrist and lowers it.

“We either need to find a safe water source, or head back to the ship.” You say after a minute. “We’re almost out of water.”

“You’re the boss.” He cracks a smile, adjusting his head against the rough bark.

“Technically, you’re the commander on this mission.” You remind him.

“Oh yeah? Well, technically, you’re smarter.” He admits shamelessly and you roll your eyes.

“Ever have fried ice cream from Corellia?” You ask, shifting to sit back next to him.

“No. Is it delicious? It sounds pointless. Wouldn’t it melt?”

“Nope. They do this thing to it that super freezes it so it only gets a little soft in its crispy shell.” The taste of it, salty and sweet ghosts across your tongue and you clamp down on the sound wanting to escape. “After this is over, we’ll go and I’ll buy you some.” You promise.

“It’s a date.” He says, dropping his hand onto your thigh in the absolute most friendly way possible, but your stomach still flip-flops in your midsection.

“You know, this is the dumbest mission ever. We’ve been sent to a planet that’s never been explored and we’re wandering around aimlessly trying to map it in just a couple days.” You groan.

“Know what I think?” He says, turning his handsome face to look at you.

“That Leia must have been desperate to get you out of her perfect hair? I just don’t see why she had to drag me down with you.” You sigh and he drops his head forward, chuckling.

“You’re so funny.” He says and then lunges, capturing you around your waist and rolling you both into the ground as you shriek. You cling to his shoulders as you land on your back, his hands cradling your head to protect it from the hard ground.

“Jerk.” You huff. Then you blink, seeming to realize just how close his face is to yours. His soft brown eyes are searching yours, his charming smile slowly fading.

Bryce’s smiling face flashes in your mind’s eye and you twist your face away with a groan. He blinks in confusion.

“You weigh a ton.” You protest and a soft chuckle skates across your cheek.

“All muscle, sweetheart.”

“Sure. If muscle here means bantha burgers.” You tease, but it’s fake. Regret settles low in your belly and you’re absolutely not sure if it’s regret at not kissing Poe, or letting it go so far. Unfortunately, Poe Dameron is literally the easiest person in the galaxy to be around.

“Maker, you’re mean when you’re—“ he cuts off and pushes himself off you.

“When I’m what?” You prompt.

“...camping.” He says finally and you know that’s not even close to what he was gonna say.

“We should keep moving. Find some water.” You mumble, pushing yourself up and gathering your things.

“Yeah. ‘Course.” He joins you once more, but this time in silence.

***

His shoulders are tense. Pulled almost all the way up to his ears. His shirt catches at his spine, bunching at the gap at his neck and sticking to the rest of him. He hasn’t spoken in over an hour and you’re terrified that he’s mad at you.

You follow dutifully behind him now, no longer next to him as you were this morning. A dozen times, you’ve opened your mouth to call his name. But then you shrink back, hiding in your own cowardice.

The image of that knife plunging into his chest slams into you full force and you squeak, mouth opening, his name on your lips before you can catch it this time.

“Sh, you hear that?” He asks, holding up his hand to stop you in your tracks.

Bubbling, the sound of a river flowing swiftly. Water. He turns to glance at you before his hand latches tightly onto yours and then he’s pulling. He drags you along, hardly able to keep up. You round the base of a tree and there it is, crystal clear, blue, fast enough to be safe. You quickly mark it on your holopad, noting the direction it’s flowing in. Poe steps forward, but you pull him back, fear twisting you.

“Let me test it first.” You say quietly, avoiding his eyes. You dig into your bag and pull out your kit, dipping it into the water at the bank’s edge. You fill a small vial and dump the tester chemicals into it. You swirl it around as they change colors and you hold it up for him.

“Is blue good?” He asks warily.

“Blue is good.” You confirm and he drops his bag, giving a loud, echoing whoop that disturbs a butterfly resting nearby. He scoops you up in his arms, pulling your bag off and swinging you around as he walks you into the freezingwater.

You shriek, holding onto him as it stings your legs. “Poe!” You protest and he laughs, sinking down to his waist, and Maker, it’s even fucking colder.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” He moans loudly, sinking in up to his shoulders. After the initial shock, you do have to admit that the cool water is lowering your body temperature considerably. You duck under the surface, holding your breath and getting your sweaty hair wet.

You come back to the surface to see him watching you. “Better than ice cream?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing jubilantly.

“A million times better.” He agrees.

“We should refill.” You say, thinking again. You head for the shore, grabbing both of your canteens and holding them under the water. They fill to the very brim and you screw the lids back on, enjoying the heavy feel of them once again.

“Are you done?” He asks from directly behind you and you jump.

“How do you move so quietly in fucking water?” You ask, turning to face him.

“Special skill.” He says shortly, a toss away answer.

“Poe,” you start. You want to apologize for this morning, the abrupt shut out.

“Sh.” He says, applying just a little pressure to your shoulders until you sink to your knees, shivering in the frigid water. He moves behind you, tipping your head back gently until your neck is stretched as far as it’ll go.

“I’m sorry,” you start again.

“Sh.” He hushes you again, his big hands fill with water and he lets it flood your hair. The cool water instantly dispels the heat in your scalp and it feels so good. Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps doing it. He guides you to lean forward slightly as he pulls your hair out of the way. More scoops of water splash over your burning neck, sending chills down your spine.

You stare at your rippling reflection in the water, Poe behind you, taking care of you. Always fucking taking care of you.

Oh.

Oh.

Maker, you’re blind.

You blink the tears away, choosing to pretend that it’s the river water. You grab his hand awkwardly from behind you to stop him and you stand up, turning to face him.

Your best friend, probably the only person you’ve ever cared about more than yourself.

“Poe,” you breathe, your fingers curling into the front of his soaked shirt.

Why fight it?

“Y/N?”

You tug, just hard enough to let him know what you want. He moves forward, closing the distance and then your lips are on his. They’re soft, and currently immobile under yours as the shock settles in. But that’s okay. Your hands slide up to hold his face, curling around his ears. You shift, lips moving against his, and he snaps out of it, opening his mouth for you. His hands blaze a trail down to your waist as he pulls you closer, pressing you against his chest. You lick into his mouth as he moans, fingers twisting into your shirt. He kisses you harder, more urgently than you’ve ever been kissed by anyonebefore. Your fingers card through his hair, holding him as close as you can. Your heart is slamming against your ribs at the taste of him.

“Well, what do we have here? Two resistance rats.” A voice says and you jump apart, your heart coming to a dead stop in your chest.

Three StormTroopers stand on either side of the bank, blasters aimed directly at you. Poe reaches for his own blaster, but a laser pointer trained right over your heart stops him.

“Try it. Please. I’m begging you. I haven’t been so bored in ages. A little target practice would be great.” One of them snarks.

“You could probably use it, too.” Poe says before he can stop himself.

“Out.” Another one orders, waving his gun and gesturing.

Poe hesitates. He wants to fight, it’s what he does. There’s only three of them, after all. But then, you’re there, in harm’s way. You think back to your comment this morning about him getting a more capable partner. You’ve never wished for anything harder.

One of the troopers pulls the hammer back, leveling the blaster at you. Poe looks at you, gritting his teeth together before trudging to the edge of the water. You follow, hating that he’s giving up because of you, because you’re so weak. You hate that you got him caught, because you distracted him with a kiss.

And then guilt floods you as your hands are handcuffed behind your back roughly. The kiss. You wonder if it even matters now, you probably won’t make it home to tell Bryce the truth anyway.

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from filling you. You wish you had taken Poe up on his offer to leave this morning. Now you’ve gotten him caught. They nudge you in the direction of the river, downstream and Poe glances over his shoulder at you, his usually warm eyes cold.

You’re a terrible friend.

Chapter 5

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[here4theheartbreak]

An Inconvenient Attachment (myg+jjk+pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Jungkook x Yoongi, Jimin x Jungkook, Jungkook x Yoongi, minor Hoseok x Seokjin Genre: smut, fantasy/supernatural au, fluff, enemies to lovers, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers Final Rating: Explicit Word Count (Chapter): ~15k

Tags (more added as needed): werewolf Jungkook, vampire Yoongi, human Jimin, kumiho Seokjin, selkie Hoseok, snowed in, handcuffed together, friends with benefits, polyamory, past violence, past murder, past abuse, discussion of murder, semi-graphic descriptions of violence, blood drinking, threesome, sharing a bed, multiple partners, dirty talk, oral sex, coming untouched

Summary: When Yoongi agreed to go on a two week winter getaway to the mountains with his roommates, he expected peace, quiet, and plenty of alone time with his roommate with benefits Jungkook. What he did not expect was to be handcuffed to his worst enemy for the duration of the trip. He figured it couldn't get worse... Until it did.

A/N: This fic was written for the @thebtswritersclub​ Fic Exchange for sujigguk! Sorry it was so late, I hope you enjoy it! | This fic also fulfills the July Prompt for X to Lovers! A/N 2: Banner made by @imyourhobiii - thank you so much!  A/N 3: This also fills  the square Road Trip for @bangtanwritingbingo​ 

As a vampire, one would think the worst thing about living with a human would be the temptation, the bloodlust. But for Yoongi… The worst part of living with Jimin was that he was the most fucking annoying, ridiculous human that Yoongi had ever had the misfortune of meeting in sixty years of life. Draining him would be a welcomed reprieve.

However, the man Yoongi had – rather surprisingly – fallen in love with was also in love with the trifling human and his stupid pretty mouth and his horribly adorable hands, and – no. Yoongi was not wandering down that path again.

Jimin was the son of vampire hunters. Murders of so many of Yoongi’s kind. And though Jimin had sworn that he had renounced their way of thinking and was estranged from them… Born into a family of killers made him just as untrustworthy, in Yoongi’s mind. Certain crimes simply could not be repented for and yes, sometimes the son did need to bear the crimes of the father.

Yoongi tolerated Jimin for Jungkook’s sake, the dopey wolf boy that had wriggled into his undead heart; and for their fourth roommate – Jin – a Kumiho with an odd affection for the human. In fact, Yoongi often felt like he was the only one that didn’t like Jimin. 

And recently, more and more, Yoongi was starting to wonder if Jimin hated him as much as he hated Jimin. Especially lately; it seemed like everything Jimin did was done specifically to annoy Yoongi.

Which is likely why Yoongi ended up in a car, sitting next to his mortal (literally) enemy, on the way to an isolated cabin that Jin’s boyfriend, Hoseok owned. Jin had suggested it a few days after a particularly aggressive fight between Jimin and he, where he not only showed his fangs, but may or may not have thrown an open bag of blood at Jimin. 

The trip hadn’t been so bad so far, Yoongi had to admit. They were driving straight through, and the drive was two days away from the city. Jimin was forced into a seat next to Yoongi, but was keeping to himself, reading and staring out the window or talking to Jungkook. Jungkook was in the front with Jin and was, at that very moment, pestering the hell out of the fox shifter.

Normally Yoongi would jump in and soothe the excitable wolf’s mood, but at the moment… Let them both suffer. This diabolical idea to get him to play nice with Jimin was likely both of theirs, so they could deal. Even immortality could not cure Yoongi’s sense of petty revenge. 

Yoongi reached into the small bag next to his feet, withdrawing a bag of chilled blood. He grimaced. A microwave would have been nice; but they weren’t scheduled to stop for quite some time – and only really to let the more humanlike ones stretch their legs. He pinched open the tip of the bag, tilting it back into his mouth. The sticky, sickly sweet fluid hit his tongue. Cold or not, it was the most refreshing thing he’d had in hours. He was able to go quite a number of days without blood, but dammit if it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

As he drank, he glanced over at Jimin from the corner of his eye. Jimin was reading a book, paying him no attention. How could a human pay someone no attention when they were drinking blood right next to him? Yoongi righted the bag, scowling down at it. Why did he want Jimin to pay attention to him? He hoped to disturb the human, perhaps. That’s what it was. Make Jimin uncomfortable and prove he secretly hated vampires just like his parents. Maybe then Jin and Jungkook wouldn’t love him so much. 

“Jiminie,” Jungkook whined. He turned in his seat, leaning into the back. “Yoongi…”

“What?” Jimin and Yoongi answered at nearly the same time.

“Will you two go for a run with me in the woods next time we stop? I’m itchy.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Why bother asking the human? He can’t keep up with you like I can.” 

Jimin shifted a little. He smiled softly. “He’s right.”

“So? I’ll let you ride on my back,” Jungkook offered.

“That’s not running with you then. Yoongi can go with you.”

Jungkook pouted a little but nodded. He wriggled himself further between the seats, grabbing for Jimin. Before he could get him, Jin’s hand emerged. He grabbed the collar of Jungkook’s shirt and yanked him back. “Stop distracting the driver!” He snapped.

“You bully,” Jungkook complained, smacking at him despite his warning. The two very quickly fell into another playful bicker, leaving Yoongi in peace with his thoughts. Next to him, Yoongi felt Jimin shift, and then again, before hearing him sigh. He looked over. Jimin had curled up onto the seat, bunching a hoodie under his head against the window to rest. He was getting on toward nighttime, Yoongi supposed. Day and night blended for him these days – and Jungkook was naturally nocturnal. It must have been hard to be where Jimin was, he thought as he watched Jimin sleep. A home with three creatures so different from himself. And in love – or at least lust – with one of them. A pang of sympathy shot through Yoongi’s chest. He grimaced at himself. What was he doing. Maybe there was something in the car, poisoning him. Pitying the rotten human? Never. Yoongi scoffed to himself. He nuzzled himself into the other corner of the seat, pulling his legs up under him. He “accidentally” let one slip, kicking Jimin squarely in the thigh. Jimin shot upright, grimacing. From his mostly closed lids, Yoongi could see Jimin look down at his leg where he’d been kicked, then over at Yoongi. Instead of getting angry, much to Yoongi’s surprise (and discomfort), Jimin smiled. He shook his head and laid back down, snuggling against the hoodie. 

Being technically undead, Yoongi didn’t require sleep. He had periods where he needed to rest, usually early in the morning around sunrise, but not necessarily sleep in the human sense of the phrase. But boy, did he like it. Sleeping was great. Six to eight hours of just not existing, having fun dreams, waking up to a new day – Yoongi couldn’t ever imagine willingly not sleeping like some of his vampire friends. However, much like a human who slept away a third of their hours, sleeping made Yoongi absolutely ravenous upon waking. Which wasn’t normally a problem. 

Except when he was in a car. With a living being that was filled with his only food source. And somehow in his sleep had wound up snuggling against said obnoxious human’s stupidly soft neck. 

Yoongi felt his fangs poking his bottom lip before he realized it. He inhaled sharply. Oh, that smelled delicious. His mouth watered in response, and he inhaled again, opening his mouth instinctively. 

His eyes fluttered open and he shifted, hunting for the source of the bittersweet, rich aroma. Instead of a particularly juicy steak or even a cup of blood warmed thoughtfully by Jungkook, Yoongi’s gaze fell on Jimin. The human’s shaggy black hair had fallen over his eyes as he slept, his plush lips wet and parted. His pulse was throbbing firm and steady by Yoongi’s ear. 

He shot up, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the car. 

Jin glanced back. “Maggot bite your ass or something?” He teased.

“I’ll bite you,” Yoongi grumbled. He wriggled as far away from Jimin and his stupid sweet smelling blood as he could before digging into his bag and pulling out the other satchel of blood he’d stored in it. It should be all he needed until they reached the cabin, and once there they had packed a solid supply of blood bags for him. Good too – because based on the weather as the car climbed into the mountains, Yoongi wondered if they might not be snowed in for a few days. 

The final rest stop was only a few more miles. Jin pulled in, stepping out to stretch his legs. Jungkook bounded out himself, taking a quick peek to make sure they were alone. He stripped shamelessly out of his clothing, piling it on the seat and seemingly unaware of the brisk chill in the air. 

“Yoongi!” He called, nearly bouncing with excitement and wiggling out of his skin.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Yoongi grumped, crawling out of the car himself. He watched Jungkook shift from a two-legged ball of energy into a massive four legged one, unable to keep from smiling. In wolf form, Jungkook was just as stunning as his human form. Dark black fur streaked with blonde, massive paws and bright hazel eyes that shone in the light. He barked sharply before taking off toward the tree line. Yoongi followed, catching up and keeping up easily as they darted through the trees. 

The two ran for a solid twenty minutes, looping through the woods and back toward the rest stop. As they neared the tree line, Jungkook skidded to a stop, his large paws kicking up dirt and leaves as he did. Yoongi stopped next to him, walking at a slower pace out of the trees. The rest area was still empty, save for their vehicle. Jin was nowhere to be found; probably had taken the time to have his own running session in the woods. 

In the fading light of the sunset, Yoongi could see Jimin. He’d wandered a few yards from the car and was lying on a picnic table. His shaggy hair flopped back from his forehead, toned arms up and bulging just a little as he cradled the back of his head against the cold wood. One knee up, leg of his shorts falling back to reveal his smooth thigh, thick with well-defined muscles. He had to be freezing, lying outside in shorts – but they all had weird temperature mechanics after living with Jungkook so long

Next to Yoongi, Jungkook shifted, and Yoongi scoffed. “All that working out the human does, and he still can’t begin to keep up with you.”

When Jungkook didn’t answer, Yoongi glanced over, a little surprised to see Jungkook scowling. 

“What? I’m not wrong. He’ll never give you all you need – You love running.”

“What makes you think I need a running partner to have a happy relationship? Jimin can’t run as fast as you or me, but he supports me in other ways.”

“A relationship now, huh?” Yoongi sniped. “Since when was he more than your human toy?”

“Yoongi—” Jungkook hesitated then shook his head. He grabbed his clothes from the car and began tugging them on. “You know I’m fucking both of you. It’s never bothered you before.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Fine. You’ve never been so malicious about it before. Why are you so mean to him anyways? Jimin’s never done anything but try to be kind to you.”

“You know why, Jungkook. If his family were wolf hunters, maybe you’d understand.”

“He’s never hurt one of your kind.”

“Sins of the father, just like his family believes.”

“And he disowned his family because he believes all creatures, living or undead, deserve a chance to be happy. Jin would have never let him into our house if he sensed even a whisper of hatred from that man. And I’m not as stupid as you think either. I may not be some wise old vampire but I am half canine. And we can sense intentions pretty well. You’d do better to try and get along with Jimin.” Jungkook yanked his shirt on, patting his hair down. “Never know, maybe you’d learn something you didn’t expect about him.”

“Oh, like what?” Yoongi grunted, leaning against the car.

“Not my place to say,” Jungkook said simply. “But you’ll never find out if you keep being a needless jerk.”

He blinked in surprise at Jungkook’s unexpected snap, watching him pad off toward where Jimin was lying. Yoongi opted instead to get back into the vehicle, sensing that he’d pushed his annoyance a bit too far with the younger this time. 

When Jin returned from his own jaunt in the forest, Jimin and Jungkook returned to the car. Jimin slid into the seat next to Yoongi, offering a soft smile at him. Yoongi remained stone faced. Did he feel a little bad for what he said? Not that he’d ever admit. 

Jungkook wriggled in next to Jimin, forcing him over closer to Yoongi.

“Wh—” “Wanna sit back here for a bit,” Jungkook said simply.

“I can move up front,” Jimin offered.

“No. I wanna sit by you both.”

“Then get between us.” “Jin’s about to start driving. I’ll crawl over later. I can reach you both.” Jungkook reached over and grabbed Yoongi’s hand for emphasis. Yoongi frowned but said nothing more, though he did twine his fingers with Jungkook’s, squeezing firmly once. 

Yoongi let his mind wander as they began to drive once more, staring out the window as the last rays of the day slid down below the horizon. He felt Jungkook’s hand shift away from his, resting on his thigh for a moment before disappearing. There was a slight shuffle, and then Yoongi felt something thin and cold hit his wrist and click. He looked down, brows shooting up when he realized his wrist now had an accessory… A steel handcuff. And said handcuff was attached to someone else… Park Jimin. 

Yoongi looked over at Jungkook, who was grinning in his sheepish, bunny-rabbit way.

“Kook…”

“What did you do?” Jimin asked, lifting his wrist gently. He tugged Yoongi’s wrist up as he did.

“Well, you two avoid each other unless you’re fighting. And you’d do that even while we’re up in the cabin. Which is the literal reason we’re going up there, to try and help you two find a common ground. So, now you have no choice but to play nice or end up not being able to do anything.” Jungkook crossed his arms, looking smug as he spoke.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoongi grumbled. He grabbed the bracelet of the cuffs. “I can’t just snap—” As he spoke, he tugged and twisted at the metal, expecting it to bend open in his grip. 

“I can break—” He tried the chain. 

“No, you can’t,” Jungkook said simply. “I got monster proof cuffs. Amazing what you can find with a little clever digging these days.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin whispered. He shook his head. “Don’t do this to him.” He offered his wrist as well as he could. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be, Jimin,” Jungkook said, his smile fading. “You’re my best friend. So is Yoongi. And you both know my feelings run much deeper than that for you both.”

“Then let yourself have those feelings, you don’t need to stress him out like this.”

“I can’t. Even though we may share those feelings… I can’t date one or both of you knowing you hate each other. It doesn’t feel right to me, and I’m not going to have a peaceful relationship knowing that.”

“Date?” Yoongi perked up. “You want to date us?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Maybe. I guess it’ll depend on how this goes. How hard you’re willing to try to get along. I won’t lose either one of you. Whether it progresses from our current sort of friends with benefits deal to more…” Jungkook drifted off. “I’ll unlock the cuffs when we’re back in the car on the way home. Not a minute sooner.”

Jimin sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. 

Yoongi bit back a sharp remark about how disappointed he looked – he was disappointed too. Despite the true point of this trip, Yoongi had been looking forward to a little quiet time with Jungkook. Perhaps even, yes, pushing the idea of taking their relationship from friends with benefits to a little more. He knew Jimin felt the same – or at least very similar – he wasn’t blind. He also knew Jungkook was unlikely to choose one over the other. He hadn’t in the three years they’d kept up this quirky triangle.

Yoongi tugged at the cuffs once more, weakly, pulling Jimin’s wrist along with it. 

Jimin looked over at him, his plush lips stuck out in a bit of a pout. “I’ll try not to be too much of a bother,” he mumbled. Rather demurely, given what Yoongi knew of his normal sparky attitude. 

“I’ve got a vampire hunter hanging off my wrist,” Yoongi snarked. “It’s already a bother.”

Jimin’s cheek twitched as he clenched his jaw. He ground his teeth for a moment, eyes darkening. He wanted to say something. Yoongi almost wished he would. Let them start to fight – Jungkook might see this was a stupid idea if he did and take off these god-awful cuffs sooner. 

But Jimin’s jaw released at the same time his shoulders relaxed again. He faced forward, holding his cuffed wrist delicately on his leg, as close to Yoongi as possible without touching him. Probably to give him more freedom of movement; not that the six-inch chain offered much room for that at all without yanking on one another. 

Yoongi huffed, glaring around Jimin at Jungkook, who looked far too smug for what he’d done. He offered a wide, crinkly nosed grin and wriggled down in his seat, snuggling up against Jimin’s shoulder and burying his nose in his neck, his preferred sleeping position with anyone. 

Yoongi slouched as far away from Jimin as he could and glared out the window. The weight of the cuff on his wrist made it impossible to relax, sleep, or even let his mind wander to anything except that. And the stupid human. He hated how calm Jimin was about this whole thing. And his pleading. On Yoongi’s behalf. What the hell was that? 

Don’t do this to him.

Yoongi didn’t need the human defending him. He was able to stand up for himself. Why did Jimin sound so genuinely stressed out? Oh.

Yoongi scoffed. He looked over at Jimin. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna fucking eat you.”

Jimin blinked at him owlishly. “What?”

“You panicking about the cuffs. I’m sure you think I’m gonna lose my mind and become some blood lust crazy monster just because I’m in proximity to a human.”

“No?” Jimin frowned. “You live with me and have never acted like that. Why would I think that?”

“You know why,” Yoongi tried to cross his arms, only succeeding in tugging Jimin’s wrist onto his lap. 

Jimin let himself be tugged, still frowning in confusion at Yoongi. “I really don’t,” he finally said.

“It’s the reason you people kill my kind. You’re scared of us.”

“Maybe,” Jimin said. He shrugged. “I can’t say why humans kill vampires. Or wolves or selkies or any creatures. It’s not for food. Maybe it is fear. Maybe it’s sport.”

“Why don’t you just go ask your dad?” 

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice was soft, gentle – as if he were talking to a scared animal. “I understand why you hate me. I would too, if I were in your place. I know you’re not happy with this.”

“Can say that again. Can’t even itch my fucking nose. At least your dominant hand is free, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, what do you actually do that you can’t do with your left?”

Yoongi turned a glare onto Jimin, who grinned. “You weren’t intending to jerk off with me right next to you, were you?” He teased.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “Like I could get it up with you breathing down my neck, hunter,” he muttered. 

“I told you I’d try not to be much of a bother, and I will do my best. I know you love Jungkook. We just need to keep it together for the week up here, for him. That’s it. Then we can go back to comfortable avoidance.”

Yoongi looked out the window. Jimin was right – he knew that much, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing Yoongi say it. So, he said nothing. They were climbing in elevation now, the trees thickening around the road as it became progressively bumpier. Patches of snow began to appear along the sides of the road and through the trees, and – entirely unsurprising to Yoongi – flakes began to drift down around the car. 

The flakes were coming down in far larger clumps, piling a few inches thick by the time they pulled into the cabin. Jin sighed heavily, letting go of the steering wheel. He shook his hands out, rubbing at his palms. 

“Those last few miles were hell,” he commented.

“We’re not going to be able to get back down if this keeps up,” Jungkook agreed.

The cabin door burst open as he did, and out rushed Hoseok. Jin climbed out of the car just in time to catch the leaping man, pressing a deep kiss to his mouth. Jungkook leapt out as well, grabbing Hoseok in a tight hug the moment Jin released him. 

Yoongi watched the trio, his heart giving an uncomfortable little clench. All shifters. He and Jimin were the oddballs out in this group. He looked through the window. The trees were thick, and heavy with snow, obscuring the view almost entirely around them. Behind the large cabin with a friendly tendril of smoke rising from the chimney, was a stunning, still lake. Despite the grey coloring of the slowly rising sun, it was breathtaking. The water was crystal clear, nearly mirror like. A crust of ice had formed a few feet from the shore toward the center, and Yoongi assumed it would nearly encompass the lake within a few days if the snowfall kept up. 

“You should probably get out first,” Jimin mumbled, pulling Yoongi out of his admiration of the scenery. He yanked open the door and climbed out, his left arm trailing back as he waited for Jimin to climb out behind him. 

This was going to be dreadful. Everything would need to be done at a snail’s pace, compared to his normal speed, having the human hanging off his wrist.

Hoseok came around the side of the car, stopping short. His eyes drifted down to the cuffs connecting their wrists. Yoongi opened his mouth, about to warn or threaten the seal shifter away from a tease, when Hoseok began to laugh, nearly doubling over in pure joy at the predicament the two had found themselves in. 

Jimin sighed heavily. “Lay off, Hobi,” he said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over Hoseok’s cackling. 

Hoseok righted himself, still holding his stomach and wiping tears. He shook his head, small titters of laughter emerging even as he tried to contain them.

“What a situation, eh?”

“It’s not funny,” Jimin stepped forward. “This isn’t fun for us. The least you could do is not laugh at us.”

“Oh come on, you won’t mind it all that much,” Hoseok slapped Jimin on the shoulder. “God knows you’ve been fond of living dead boy for ages.”

Yoongi looked over fast enough to see Jimin’s eyes bulge. He swiped at Hoseok with his free left, baring his teeth in the universal sign for ‘shut it’.

Fond of the living dead boy? Well the only undead here was Yoongi… But Jimin wasn’t fond of him. Jimin could barely tolerate him, in the same way he could barely tolerate Jimin…. Right?

“Let’s just unpack the stuff,” Jimin said quickly. He turned to circle around the car, jerking Yoongi’s arm.

Yoongi glared, and Jimin winced. “Sorry. This is… Taking some getting used to.”

“Why don’t we take out the luggage,” Jungkook offered. He and Jin had come around behind Hoseok. “You two go relax.”

“When you pull out the cooler, I need to get a bag. I’m starving,” Yoongi said. He stepped up to Jimin and looked at him numbly. “You need to walk now too.” He tried to sound patronizing, but it came off as far more gentle than he intended.

Jimin obeyed, walking with Yoongi toward the cabin. Yoongi could feel him shiver, and scowled. 

“You shouldn’t have worn shorts,” he scolded with no venom, pulling open the cabin door. “You knew it was snowy.”

“I didn’t figure I’d be outside much without Jungkook,” Jimin said, entering. He headed immediately toward the fireplace, once more yanking Yoongi, who’d stayed behind to shut the door. Yoongi hissed, baring his fangs.

“Would you stop that?!”

“I’m sorry!” Jimin snapped back. “This is an adjustment for us both. Stop yelling at me and learn to work with me, dammit.”

Yoongi smirked. That was the Jimin he knew better. 

“Now,” Jimin continued before Yoongi could speak. “I’m cold. I want to go sit by the fire and warm up. Is that okay?”

“Fine.” Yoongi nodded. He walked with Jimin toward the fire, taking a seat on the ground with him. Jimin wrapped one arm around his knees, resting his chin on them. He let his other arm hang outward awkwardly, trying not to disturb Yoongi’s positioning. 

Yoongi frowned. “You can put your arm down, it’s okay.”  He tugged lightly as he spoke, setting his arm on his leg. Jimin let his arm drop to the ground. He continued to stare at the fire. Yoongi took the opportunity to look openly at the human. He really was quite striking; neatly sculpted brows and soft, plush lips, a gentle, sloping jawline that had just enough definition to trace. Light shadow and contour decorated his nearly flawless skin; Yoongi knew he spent quite a good chunk of time perfecting a casual makeup look despite not needing it. He must have touched up during their last rest stop. A simple earring – some dangling gold chain, sprinkled with tiny gems on each link. And – despite a two-day drive – smooth, perfect hair, shaggy enough to fall over his brows, but currently brushed back from Jimin’s own nervous twitch of carding his fingers through his locks. His throat was smooth – and Yoongi could trace the patterns of his strong veins and along the curve of his neck. How soft the skin looked behind his ear, how strong and dark that one particular vein looked… 

Yoongi’s fangs poked his bottom lip, snapping him out of whatever fantasy he’d fallen into. He drew in a sharp breath and straightened up, drawing Jimin’s attention.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Yoongi mumbled, covering his mouth.

“Something wrong? Do you feel sick?” Jimin paused. “Can vampires puke?”

“We can,” Yoongi mumbled. “But I don’t feel sick.”

“Oh.” Jimin gasped then. “Oh!”

“What’s that oh for,” Yoongi mocked, glaring over at him.

“Are you hungry? Your voice is muffled – your fangs. We should see if Jungkook has grabbed your cooler yet.” 

Jimin rose into a crouch. “Come on.”

“You can’t go back out in shorts,” Yoongi argued, letting his hand drop. He saw Jimin’s gaze drop to his mouth, where his canines poked from his top lip. He had always hated his fangs – their size was almost comical in his small mouth. Jimin’s heartrate picked up.

“I’m not going to bite you.”

“I trust you. I’ve just never been so close when you’ve had them out,” Jimin confessed. “They’re… Big.”

“All the better to eat you with, as the big bad wolf would say.” Yoongi hissed, but Jimin only laughed. 

“That’s our Jungkook. You’re a little less intimidating.”

“How is a vampire less intimidating than an overgrown puppy dog?” Yoongi asked, offended. 

“Because you won’t hurt me. Jungkook could hurt me accidentally just jumping on me too hard when he gets excited. He forgets his own strength. You’ve had years to practice control.”

“How do you know I won’t hurt you? I eat your species.”

“You drink human blood. But I know damn well that doesn’t mean you eat or even hurt humans. You drink bagged blood.”

“Oh, do you think they had easily accessible bagged blood when I first turned? So, what, that I woke from my grave and trotted to the local monster shop and ordered a pint of A positive over a sundae? No. I woke up and I ripped out the throat of the nearest human I could find.”

“You were newly turned. You were ravenous. Nobody would blame a hungry bear for attacking.”

“Oh, so I’m nothing more than an animal to you?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m on your side, Yoongi, when will you see that?”

“Do you know how to kill a vampire, Jimin?”

Jimin seemed to freeze at that, his lips parted just a bit. He looked over at Yoongi, who sat still, waiting.

“I—”

“Answer me honestly. Do you know how to kill a vampire?”

Jimin hung his head. “Yes, I do.”

“Not so easy, is it?” Yoongi pressed. “Not like the movies. A stake to the heart, sunlight. We don’t die easy, do we, Jimin?”

Jimin shifted, pulling his knees tighter to his chest. “It’s horrible,” he choked.

“Oh, is it? Have you seen it done?”

“Yes.”

“And did you have any part in it?”

Jimin looked over. “My father brought me hunting on my sixteenth birthday. It was his gift to me. He handed me a knife, and he told me that I was going to become a man.” 

“I bet he did.” Yoongi looked away.

“She only looked about twenty,” Jimin continued, staring at the fire. “Gorgeous, honestly. Her eyes were big and dark, and her hair was long – it looked so soft. I was meant to be the bait. I was so scared, when I went up to her in the cafe. I grew up hearing the tales about how even the smell of a human could make a vampire go crazy. I thought for sure she’d try to rip my throat out.”

“What happened?” Yoongi asked. He looked over at Jimin. He wasn’t sure why he asked. He knew what happened. She died. And Jimin and his father killed her. Maybe a sick pleasure, knowing firsthand how brutal the human attached to his wrist was. Jimin continued to stare at the fire. 

“She bought me a fucking soda. To this day, Cherry Coke makes me nauseous. She bought me a soda and she talked to me while I drank it. She offered to walk me home, because it was getting late. So, I let her. I figured now. Here is where she’ll try to rip my throat out. Dig her claws into me and show me her fangs and hurt me.”

“And did she?”

“No.” Jimin swallowed hard. “She walked me almost all the way home, polite as can be, when my father came up to us. She knew, I think. When she saw him – what he was. She looked so… Scared. She tried to run. Not attack – run.

I stepped between her and my father. I knew it was wrong, right then. But he shoved me down and told me I was a disappointment. That he’d give me one more chance. And then he caught her. She was fast but he… He had a bow. It was dipped in –”

“I know. A paralyzing agent.”

“Yeah. She went down and he caught her and dragged her back to me. She was pleading for her life. Swore she didn’t eat humans. He didn’t listen. He grabbed me and he dragged us both into the woods where he’d set up his work space. Tied her down to a bench… And told me to start cutting.”

Yoongi’s stomach lurched. He wanted to scream, to run, to strike. He looked over at Jimin, ready to snap a cruel comment, but froze. Jimin was still staring at the fire. But as Yoongi watched, he saw wet streaks running down Jimin’s cheek. He was crying. 

“I told him no,” Jimin choked. “I told him I couldn’t. She wasn’t a danger. She was nice.” Jimin sniffled. “He hit me. And he shoved me against a tree. And he told me if I was too big of a pansy to do it, I could watch it.”

Jimin wiped his cheeks with his free hand. He sniffled again and looked over at Yoongi. “The night of my sixteenth birthday I watched him cut her to pieces with a knife. The sound of her flesh and muscles tearing still haunts me. I tried to stop him over and over, and all he did was push me back. Hit me. Tell me to man up. Remind me of how monstrous your kind is. And then he handed me the matches. To burn her body. I threw them into the woods and I ran.” 

Jimin smiled weakly. “The fact that I couldn’t save Siyeon still haunts me.”

“What happened after?” Yoongi asked.

“I got a bus ticket to Seoul. And I found a nice couple that took me in. Let me finish school, gave me a space to hide. They were vampires, Yoongi. Ages sixteen and seventeen, I lived with vampires – and I thought of them as parents. A—” Jimin swallowed hard. “And then my actual parents found me. And I watched… Once more… The brutality of hunting your kind. And once again I couldn’t save them. I was too weak. But I disowned my parents at that very moment. I told them I supported vampires and I would never pick up a weapon against them. And that I wasn’t their son anymore. Oh… They thought I’d been turned, even tried to prove it. For two weeks they waited for my fangs to come out. And when they didn’t… They left me. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Yoongi remained silent, unsure how to respond. Part of him wanted to pop off with something smart and sassy – but he could feel the waves of emotion coming from Jimin. His story wasn’t a lie to gain sympathy. He believed what he was saying. So Yoongi said nothing.

Jimin looked over. Despite his eyes, red rimmed from the tears that streaked his cheeks, he was still stunning. “I’ve never told anybody the whole truth. Not even Jungkook knows.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked. His mouth had gone strangely dry. 

“Because it’s not something I like to relive. It’s not something I want people to know. How weak I was. How helpless… To save them.”

“Hunters are brutal,” Yoongi said. He shrugged. “If you’d done more to interfere… Parents or not, I don’t know that you’d be here now.”

“Probably not. My father always said I was too weak to be his. So that’s my story, Yoongi. That’s why I’m here, living with Jin and Jungkook and you.”

“Why did you tell me? We aren’t friends. We aren’t even that close.”

“Well, for the next two weeks – maybe three – we’re literally stuck together. I know you hate me. And that’s fine, I get it. But I wanted you to know what really happened.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond when the door burst open. Jungkook entered, lugging the cooler that housed Yoongi’s meals for the next few weeks. “That snow is intense,” Jungkook commented, shaking the snow from his shaggy brown hair like cold dandruff. 

“It is,” Jin agreed, lugging in a pile of bags. Hoseok followed after and kicked the door shut, his own arms full of bags. 

“You three are gonna be out here at least three weeks based on this – it’s cold enough in these mountains that we don’t melt fast.”

“Will you have enough food?” Jin worried, looking at Yoongi. He nodded. 

“The supply I gave you to put in there should last comfortably two and a half, and I can go without for about a week without losing my mind, so I’ll just space the bags out. Would you put it in the snow outside though? The ice is probably melted by now so you’ll wanna keep it cold. And I don’t think Hoseok wants gallons of blood in his fridge.”

“Rather not,” Hoseok agreed, padding past them into a bedroom with some of the bags. “So Jin will sleep with me, and I did have two rooms set up for you and Jimin, but seeing as you’re sharing,” he smirked at them from around the door, “Jungkook can take the extra room as needed.” 

“Do you wanna get some?” Jimin asked. Yoongi looked away from the cooler and nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

“Let’s go. Jungkook, hold on a sec,” Jimin called. He and Yoongi rose and headed over. Jungkook turned around, setting the cooler on the ground with a thud. 

Yoongi crouched and opened it, scowling. Inside – rather than his pint bags of blood, floating in a pool of water, he saw nothing but vacuum sealed packages of… Meat. 

“Jungkook…”

Yoongi reached in, pawing through the meat. Jimin crouched with him, reaching in as well.

“Jungkook, you didn’t—” Jimin whispered. Jungkook looked down. His eyes bulged.

“No—Oh no.” He sank down next to the others and began yanking the meat packages out. “No, no… Jin!” Jungkook whipped around. “You grabbed the wrong cooler!”

Jin turned from where he’d been talking with Hoseok, his smile slowly fading. “No – The red one. Yoongi said the blood was in the red one by the window.”

“The living room window, Jin,” Yoongi hissed. 

“My meats – My dried and cured meats – they were in the other red cooler by the kitchen window,” Jungkook said, holding up one of the bags.

Jin’s smile disappeared completely. “Oh no,” he whispered. He looked at Yoongi. “We have to go back down.”

“You can’t,” Hoseok said, grabbing Jin’s arm. “Look at that snowfall. You’d wreck in a heartbeat.”

“He can’t go without food, Hobi,” Jin cried.

“I’ll be okay,” Yoongi said. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he would. The very thought of starving sent a chill down his spine. He knew what happened to vampires who were too deeply starved. 

“I can head down the mountain,” he suggested.

“You’d freeze to death,” Jimin argued.

“I’m already dead.”

“You’d still never make it. Dead and immortal doesn’t make you immune to dying in other ways. And freezing solid and shattering is a pretty shitty way to go.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi said softly. “You know better than anyone…”

“We might not be up here three weeks. Maybe the snow will melt faster, and we can get you back to the city.”

“Can’t you eat an animal?” Hoseok offered. “Surely Jungkook could catch something—”

“I can’t drink animal blood. Old vampire myth to make us seem less scary. It makes us very sick. Monster blood is worse, so don’t get any ideas there either.”

“But you drink human blood,” Jimin said softly.

“From a bag.” Yoongi looked over as he spoke, his voice firm. He hated the way Jimin was looking at him. “I’m not even that hungry right now. Jungkook…” He looked to Jungkook, who looked close to tears himself. “I promise I won’t fight with Jimin. Would you please unhandcuff us?”

“Well that takes the fun out of it,” Jungkook pouted.

“Jungkook… You need to uncuff me from him.”

Jungkook scowled at that, looking between Jimin and Yoongi. “But—”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi strained. “I am a vampire. Who is in an isolated cabin with no food. Potentially for multiple weeks. You need to uncuff me from this human.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened a little as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Oh God, of course. Right, hold on.” He scrambled to his feet and rushed to where his bags were, beginning to dig around in one. “Yoongi…” Jimin reached over, setting his free hand on Yoongi’s upper arm. “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

“Jimin—”

“I was going to offer anyways. You know… If you were hungry…”

“Don’t.”

The small smile that had been curving Jimin’s mouth disappeared immediately at Yoongi’s tone. Yoongi looked away, hating the way his heart did a little flip at the idea. Sinking his fangs into Jimin’s smooth neck… Tasting that sweet blood… Hearing Jimin’s breath pick up… Yoongi shook his head slightly to knock the image from his mind. He was supposed to hate the stupid human, not want to feed off him. 

He hadn’t bitten a living human since he was turned. The shame he felt even now, after all these years, when he thought about what he did when he first turned… Once he was in his right mind he swore he’d rather die than feed from a living human. And he’d kept that promise to himself all these years. Easily, really. Even when blood was hard to come by – the simple thought of feeding on a person was enough to turn his stomach. 

So then why did his mind keep drifting to Jimin? The way his veins painted delicate, abstract art on his neck… The sweet, rich scent of his life fluid just… There, right under the surface. The way it made Yoongi’s mouth water, his fangs slipping down, his own pulse – slow and lethargic most of the time – picking up like a horny schoolboy…

“Jungkook,” Yoongi snapped. Jungkook looked up from where he was digging in a second bag. His hair was plastered over his forehead, a look of desperation in his eyes.

“Still looking, it’s a small key. Give me just one more minute, no worries,” he said. Though, any monster in the room could hear his panic… There was a definite need to worry. 

“What if we drove down slow?” Jin offered. “You and me could go, Yoongi. You won’t bite me, and even if you get… very hungry—”

Yoongi nodded. “That could work… But if the car gets stuck, you’ll die a hell of a lot faster than I will. It’d be safer for me to creep down on my own.”

“Except the the gas station on the way up the mountain will be closed and you’ll use far more than usual creeping. You’d be on empty long before you get to civilization,” Hoseok argued. “Not to mention, when you get around people again, then what? You eat the first one you see?”

“Hey!” Jimin’s sharp tone surprised Yoongi. He looked over.

“He’s not going to go feral.”

“Jimin…”

“You won’t. You guys keep talking like you have no food.” Jimin tilted his head a little, exposing his neck. “Hate me or not, I’m still a perfectly viable meal. And you can easily feed from me without hurting me. I know you can control yourself.”

“No.” Yoongi shook his head. “I won’t eat live meals.”

“You’re not eating me. You can just drink a little… Every few days, just enough to take the edge off.”

Yoongi scooted back as far as he could, his arm jerking forward with the cuffs. “Jungkook!” He snapped. 

Jungkook made a small noise and flopped back on his butt. “I can’t find it.”

“Can’t find the key?!” Yoongi cried. He rose, grabbing Jimin’s wrist and lifting him up easily to drag him over. He sank down in front of Jungkook’s bags, beginning to dig through the piles. 

“I’ve looked three times now,” Jungkook said softly, looking near tears. “I can’t find them. I—I must have lost it or left it at home or… Something.”

“Then we pick it!” Yoongi said. He looked to Jin and Hoseok. “Pick it for us.”

“I can’t pick locks,” Hoseok chuckled. “You have far too much faith in me.” “I could try,” Jin said, “but I’m not very good.”

“I don’t care. We have time.” 

“Yoongi,” Jimin tried as Yoongi hauled him up once more, dragging him over to where Jin stood. 

“Why aren’t you more panicked?” Yoongi asked, seeing Jimin looking incredibly calm… And a little sad. 

“Because there isn’t a reason to panic.”

“You’re tied to a thing that fucking eats you.”

“Who I’ve already offered my neck to and he won’t bite. Literally. Yoongi, I’m not scared of you. I’ve said it once and it still stands. I would, however, like you to stop hauling me around like I’m luggage. I can walk. And while I enjoy being manhandled at times, we are both far too clothed for the type I enjoy.” Jimin tugged their cuffed wrists for emphasis. 

A series of titters erupted from the other three in the room, and Yoongi scowled. “You crack jokes as if this isn’t serious.”

“Just lightening the mood.” Jimin shrugged. 

“As if you’d be able to handle me in bed anyways. Or would want to.”

Jimin shrugged. “Says you.” He looked to Jin. “Wanna try to pick it?”

“Sure. Do you have something I can use, Hobi?”

“Lemme look.” Hoseok headed around the counter into the kitchen and began digging through the drawers.

“Go sit down,” Jin said. “It’ll be easier.”

Yoongi moved to walk, but stopped. He motioned for Jimin to lead the way, feeling a little guilty for dragging him around. It wasn’t his fault they were in this situation, after all. And yeah, Yoongi thought as he walked with Jimin and settled onto the couch with him, after learning the truth… Maybe he was beginning to feel some sympathy for the human. Not that they could ever realistically be friends. They couldn’t stand each other. Jimin was scared of him, or hated him… And he disliked the human. It was just how it was… Or how it should be. But maybe, now that Jimin had shared something with Yoongi about his history, they could at least become tolerant of one another.

Yoongi tried to pretend Jimin wasn’t sitting far too close to him. He wasn’t all that hungry. He’d gone about twelve days without food before, and it was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t feral. So, there was no real reason why he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than Jimin’s pulse. His infuriatingly slow pulse. How could someone so soft and breakable be so calm hanging off the arm of a predator? And so eager to offer his throat?

Jin came around with a handful of slender items. He crouched, grabbing the cuffs and beginning to try the different things. Brows furrowed, Yoongi could tell he was trying. But as the minutes passed, the pile of untried items grew smaller, and the pile of useless, bent, or broken items got larger and larger. 

Jin sighed, picking up a steak knife – the last item in his pile. “There’s no way,” he said.

“Just try it,” Yoongi mumbled. He knew Jin was right, no way would a steak knife open the cuffs. Jin did as he said, jabbing at the hole in the cuffs, trying to get it to release. Nearly a minute of fiddling, and he finally sat back, shaking his head no. “I’m sorry guys, I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin said. “You tried.”

Yoongi grabbed his cuff and yanked, grimacing when it tugged the skin of his hand. “Did you have to make it so tight?” He growled at Jungkook. 

“I wanted to make sure you couldn’t pull it off,” Jungkook said. He came around the side of the couch, looking sheepish. “I know I have a spare key for it… It’s just in my room.”

“Well that won’t do any good up here!” Yoongi snapped. Jungkook flinched, his eyes widening a little. 

Yoongi took a steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s my fault. I deserve it.”

“No… You were trying to make us get along. It would have been funny, honestly, if things didn’t turn out like this,” Yoongi said. There is a final option… I just would like to not have to try it until things get… Bad.”

“What are you thinking of, Yoongi?” Jin asked, trepidation clear in his tone.

“Hoseok has a wood stove. A fireplace. Which means he has an axe.”

“No.” Both Jimin and Jungkook spoke in unison. “We’re not cutting any body parts off.”

“Well if I go feral and am still attached to Jimin, you’ll be doing a lot more than cutting off something. You’ll have to put me down.”

“You aren’t a dog!” Jimin cried. “If it gets to that point, we can just dislocate my thumb. It’ll hurt like a mother but the cuffs can come off. But you could prevent getting to that point if you’d just drink from me.”

“I will not let you hurt yourself for my sake,” Yoongi argued.

“Why not? You hate me, don’t you? A stupid hunter’s son.” Yoongi should have said yes. His brain told him that he should say yes. Yet the word wouldn’t come out. Instead, he just shook his head, looking down. “I just won’t let you,” he muttered.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Jin said. He rose, setting his hands on their shoulders. “Come on. This is a setback, but we’re still up here, let’s try to have a good time, right?”

Yoongi smiled softly, nodding. “You’re right. Hobi, how long until the lake freezes over completely do you think?”

“A day or two, why?”

“I know Jungkook’s been dying to take a swim in ice water. Mostly because he’s a lunatic. Want to?”

Hoseok grinned brightly. “I’d love to. You know me, never turn down water.”

“What about you?” Jin asked. He looked at Jimin. “He won’t have the same tolerance to cold…”

Yoongi glanced at Jimin, who’s smile - which had grown at the mention of a cold swim, was sinking.

“Yeah, maybe not, but I don’t much like the cold either. I’m sure I’ll be ready to be done when he is. We can still have fun. I won’t let you drown.” 

Jimin looked at him, that sweet smile returning. He nodded. “Deal.”

Yoongi regretted that deal the second they hit the water. Not at any fault of Jimin’s, oh no. But more because Yoongi had forgotten just how much he hated the cold. He was shuddering nearly instantly. Jimin laughed brightly next to him, a high, tinkling sound on the cool wind. Yoongi looked over. Jimin was shivering just as hard as he was.

“This can’t be safe for humans,” Yoongi worried.

“A few minutes is fine. It’s good for the body,” Jimin assured him. “Can we go deeper? I wanna try to get to where Jungkook is.”

Yoongi looked across the lake. About fifteen feet ahead, closer to the center of the unfrozen part of the water, were their three friends. They’d jumped in as humans – but now Yoongi could see a wolf, a fox with many tails, and a seal, all bobbing along the water. 

“We’ll try – but remember they are all furred animals. You may not make it that far.”

“I still wanna try.”

Yoongi nodded. He and Jimin set off carefully, their swimming motions needing to be perfectly aligned due to the cuffs. They made it nearly as far as Jungkook when Jimin whined softly. Yoongi glanced over, concern furrowing his brows. Jimin was shivering less, but his arms were covered in gooseflesh, and his lips were turning a startling shade of purple-blue. 

“We need to go back,” Yoongi said. 

Jimin nodded, not bothering to argue.

“Can you make it?”

“I c—can t-t-t-try,” Jimin chattered. 

“Ah, you soft humans,” Yoongi teased with no real venom. He got them turned around. “Here, go over my head so you’re hooked around my shoulders.” He brought the hand with the cuff across his chest. Jimin moved his arm over Yoongi’s head, dropping it against his back. 

“Good, try to help me paddle a bit with your free hand okay? And kick some.”

Jimin nodded. Yoongi could barely feel heat from his skin despite their closeness; a rather concerning feeling. He swam them back as quick as he could manage, Jimin doing his best to help. When they reached the ice patch, Yoongi moved to dislodge himself from Jimin’s arm. “Okay, get out.”

Jimin nodded. He braced his hands on the ice and hoisted himself out, spinning around and crouching as he helped Yoongi up and out. 

Unfortunately – their wet skin on the ice did nothing in terms of support, and as soon as Yoongi was out of the water, a single step sent them both flying. Yoongi landed on top of Jimin, clearly knocking the breath from his chest. Snow that had puffed up around them in the fall now drifted down, speckling Jimin’s face like glitter. They laid nose to nose for a moment, Jimin’s eyes wide as he looked up at Yoongi. 

“I—”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispered, though he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not because of the ice… But mostly because Jimin felt so good under him. 

“It’s okay,” Jimin breathed. His eyes darted down to Yoongi’s mouth, and Yoongi froze. Was he about to kiss him? He jerked back, panic bubbling up in his chest. This was all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be okay with that idea. Carefully, he moved off Jimin and rose, helping Jimin to his feet. Jimin clung to him, shivering harder than ever. 

They entered the cabin. “You should strip,” he said.

“S—” Jimin’s eyes bulged. 

“As we melt we’re gonna soak the floor. And it’ll be easier to warm up if you’re in just a pair of dry pants than if you’re in soaking wet clothes.

“Right…” Jimin glanced down. “Shit.”

“What?” 

“The cuffs. How am I gonna get my shirt off with the cuffs?”

Yoongi looked down as well. He swore under his breath, glaring in the general direction of the lake. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Jimin laughed a little. “Didn’t think that one through, did he?”

“Let’s get to the bathroom. We’re dripping.” Yoongi led him through the cabin into the bathroom. He guided Jimin into the tub. “Okay, so we could cut them off, but then we’d be shirtless for the next three weeks and I’d like to go outside at some point, so…”

“Yeah, no.” Jimin tapped his chin in thought. “What about just letting them hang over the cuff chain to dry? If we set a towel under them, squeeze them out as much as we can here, they should dry in front of the fire too, and we can put them back on?”

Yoongi thought for a moment, his eyes darting from Jimin to their cuffs as he tried to determine if it would succeed. Finally, he nodded. “I think that’ll work. Try it?”

Jimin nodded. He pulled his left arm free, apologizing softly when he tugged Yoongi over so his right hand could be used. Over the head, over his right arm, it dangled on the chain, as predicted, dripping into the tub. 

“Perfect!” Jimin said. 

Yoongi nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was nodding about though, as he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from Jimin’s bare chest. Though Jimin was slender, under his clothes he was very clearly hiding a lot. A toned chest and firm muscles, the cold water had tightened his dusky nipples to hard little points. His belly was slim, with the faint outlines of muscles that Yoongi knew were probably far tighter than a quick glance. And his hips – cut almost ridiculously perfect into a v shape, visible over the top of his waistband. Though he was clothed from the bottom down, Yoongi could imagine very clearly where that v pointed.

“Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice drew him out of his staring. He looked up, clearing his throat. “Right. Perfect. I’ll do mine.” Yoongi moved a little quicker, yanking his off and adding it to Jimin’s dangling from the chain. After seeing Jimin, he felt a little self-conscious. Though strong – it was all his inhuman nature; he was far less fit and chiseled than the human. 

“We should wring them out now.” Yoongi grabbed his own shirt and began to ring it out, twisting it this way and that to get as much water out as he could. Jimin did the same, the water splashing between them like a mini waterfall. 

“Great,” Jimin said when they could wring no more water from the shirts. He moved to step out, but Yoongi grabbed his wrist. “Shorts and shoes too – you’ll drip everywhere.”

“Oh—” Jimin hesitated, looking down and then up at Yoongi. “Uh… Naked?” He squeaked. 

“Well, yeah.” Yoongi chuckled. “What, you shy about something?”

Jimin looked away, his cheeks pinking up delightfully. “Well, no, I just…”

Yoongi sighed and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. He turned away from Jimin as well as he could and hung it over his shoulder. “Here, just change and wrap it around your waist. I won’t look.” 

He heard a shuffle and felt a tug on his wrist. He was distinctly aware of the fact that if he shifted his right hand at all he would likely be brushing against Jimin’s bare skin. His wrist was pulld again, and this time he felt a towel skim past his fingers.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Alright, I’m taking mine off now,” Yoongi said. He pulled his hand back, quickly tugging his shoes, socks, jeans, and boxers off. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his own waist. 

“Okay, come on.” They stepped out of the bathtub and walked into the room where their bags had been dropped, the wet clothes dangling awkwardly between them. Yoongi let Jimin grab clothes first, looking away politely while he pulled on sweats. He pulled on his own sweats and handed Jimin their towels. Out into the living room, he grabbed a blanket from the chair as they settled onto the loveseat nearest to the fire. He slung the blanket over their shoulders.

“The wet—” Jimin began. “I know, here, just wrap them up with the towels.” They worked together with surprising efficiency to wrap the clothes. Jimin relaxed a bit, pressing closer to Yoongi to get further under the blanket as they sat.

Jimin’s body was warming quickly, radiating heat into his own normally barely lukewarm bones. It was… Comfortable, if Yoongi was being honest. Yoongi felt his head drooping, soothed by the sounds of the fire and the warmth. Jimin shifted, snuggling next to him and resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi quirked his brow, peeking around Jimin’s head. Sure enough, the human was sleeping. Yoongi smiled a little. Yeah, Jimin wasn’t so bad, maybe… 

Yoongi was amazed at how much he could simultaneously adore and hate a singular person. If Jungkook hadn’t been a werewolf, Yoongi may have considered feeding on him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t have heard that right.” Yoongi repeated for the second time, staring at Jungkook in the dark bedroom. Jungkook pouted, his bottom lip sticking out and making him look far younger than his twenty-three years would imply. 

“I said I’m bored.”

“And you proceeded to grab my dick.”

“Well, what better way to solve boredom?”

“Jungkook, we’re cuffed.”

“Which makes it less sexy how?”

Yoongi’s face remained stoic. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jungkook. I’m still upset with you.”

“For what?!” Jungkook cried, seemingly offended that Yoongi would dare.

Yoongi blinked at him before lifting the cuffs, inadvertently dragging Jimin’s arm up and making Jungkook’s head hit the pillow where he’d been cuddling between the two of them. He gave it a shake.

“Also for losing the key. And for whatever other harebrained ideas you get while we’re up here.”

Jungkook’s pout returned full force. “Well fine. Your loss.”

“My loss?”

“Jimin will keep me company, right?” Jungkook turned to look at Jimin, his grin broadening. 

“I—I can’t say no,” Jimin mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry Yoongi.”

Yoongi gaped at Jimin. 

“So what, you two are just gonna fuck next to me? Could you be any more obscene?”

“Oh it’s not like you’ve not seen it before, you prude.”

“I haven’t! Not with Jimin.”

“Just go to sleep then.” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Yoongi. He rolled over, facing away from Yoongi. A shift on the bed, and Yoongi heard the soft sounds of kissing. He scowled at them for a moment. He hated the way his stomach was making those nasty little knots, the way he wanted to reach out and card his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, pull him back from Jimin and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. Hated the way he wanted to feel Jimin’s mouth too. Sink into his tight heat and find out if his moans were as pretty as his laugh. The days spent cuffed together had done a number on Yoongi. More and more he found himself enjoying Jimin’s company, laughing with him, conversing with him willingly. And more and more he found himself staring at him, wondering more about him, noticing his subtle (and obvious) beauty. 

Yoongi shut his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of their kissing, the soft breathy sighs from them, and the shift of fabric as they moved together, slowly stripping.  

It worked, for a while. Yoongi managed to remain feigning sleep (how could he actually sleep?) through Jungkook very clearly giving Jimin some amazing oral sex, and through Jungkook prepping Jimin’s soft body for sex. He even managed to feign sleep when Jungkook slid into Jimin, but felt Jimin’s hand grab his own for the briefest second, paired with a sharp, pleasured cry from the human. 

But Yoongi’s strength only went so far. He could feel a stirring in his groin as the bed shifted rhythmically, hearing the slick sounds of their skin slapping together as Jungkook thrust into him, their muffled panting.

He opened his eyes the tiniest bit. They wouldn’t notice, not so caught up in their lovemaking. Jimin was covering his mouth with his free hand, muffling his soft whines as Jungkook thrust into him. 

From his viewpoint, Yoongi could see Jimin’s hips bent up, his cock hard and leaking onto his belly. Jungkook reached up, pinching Jimin’s nipple and tugging. Jimin moaned, shoving his head back into the pillow and grabbing the sheet. “Jungkook—“ he whined, strained.

Jungkook glanced over, catching Yoongi’s gaze. Yoongi tried to shut his eyes, but knew it was too late. He glanced again, seeing Jungkook lean down. He was whispering, but Yoongi heard it clear as day. 

“He’s watching us,” he whispered, “and you’re making him hard.” 

Jimin looked over. Yoongi met his gaze openly, wetting his lips. Jungkook wasn’t wrong, his cock was hard in his sweats, pushing up the blanket a little. Yoongi reached down, palming himself as he watched Jungkook make love to Jimin. He could feel his fangs poking his bottom lip, and knew as soon as he spoke they’d be just as obvious as his erection.

“Want me to take care of that?” Jungkook teased. “Or maybe you wanna see if Jimin feels as good as you think he might, hm?”

Yoongi swallowed hard. “Ride me, Jungkook,” he demanded. 

Jungkook smirked. He pulled out of Jimin, his cock slick with lube. He pushed the blanket down and tugged Yoongi’s sweats around his ankles. He licked his lips, staring at Yoongi’s dick.

“Come suck him with me, Jimin.”

Jimin obeyed, sitting and moving down. He and Jungkook set to work immediately, dragging a surprised shout out of Yoongi. Their mouths were everywhere, tongues sliding over his sensitive cock, sharing kisses. Jungkook leaned back to grab lube and Jimin took advantage. He sank down on Yoongi, swallowing his cock to the root. Yoongi’s hips jerked up, his tip bumping Jimin’s throat. Jimin swallowed, looking up at him. He began to suck and lick, bobbing his head slow.

Yoongi grabbed his head, his lips parted. He began to guide his head, unable to tear his gaze away from Jimin’s mouth, his perfect lips sliding over his cock like silk.

“Amazing, isn’t he?” Jungkook purred. He was fingering himself open, watching the two. “I don’t know how many times I’ve come just from his mouth when I didn’t plan to.”

Yoongi wanted to answer, but all that came out was an incoherent moan. He had had a lot of blowjobs in his time but none like this. He fisted Jimin’s hair, tugging to pull him off. Jimin obeyed, moaning happily. His eyes rolled back when Yoongi pulled, cock jerking between his muscular thighs. 

“Jungkook—” Yoongi strained. He let go of Jimin before he hurt him, grunting when Jimin immediately began to nuzzle and kiss over his thighs and hip.

“Aw, are you that close?” Jungkook teased, pressing kisses along Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi nodded. 

“You sure you don’t wanna see what he feels like? He’s so tight, and warm, and wet inside…”

Yoongi whimpered, looking down at Jimin. He bared his fangs almost instinctively, the sound of Jimin’s blood pumping nearly overwhelming him. Jimin’s breath caught audibly. He crawled up Yoongi’s body, until they were nearly nose to nose. 

“You can,” he whispered. He straddled Yoongi’s hips, settling onto his crotch until Yoongi’s cock bumped his hole. “If you want to… And…” Jimin touched Yoongi’s chin, pulling his bottom lip. “This too…” He bared his neck, leaning closer to Yoongi. 

Panic bubbled up in Yoongi’s chest when he realized he’d moved forward, mouth opening instinctively. He snapped his jaws shut hard enough to hurt, piercing his own bottom lip with his fangs. 

“Jimin—” He gritted. “Get off me.”

Jimin sat back, disappointment clear on his face. He obeyed though, slinking off Yoongi’s hips and laying next to him. 

“Yoongi—” Jungkook began. 

“Don’t.”

“We don’t have to stop,” Jungkook continued anyways. “Let me finish you off. Or you can watch Jimin and I—”

Embarrassed, shameful tears burned the back of Yoongi’s throat. He closed his eyes, trying to stave them off as long as possible. And he was cuffed – he couldn’t even escape this horribly awkward situation. 

“Just go back to what you were doing. I’m sorry I bothered you,” he mumbled. He sat up and yanked his sweats up one handed before rolling to his side, facing away from the two. His cuffed arm twisted back uncomfortably, but he ignored it. He deserved a little discomfort… He nearly bit Jimin – and for what? A fucking orgasm. Nearly broke his vow with a moment of sex. Shame colored his cheeks as he glared at the door. 

“Jungkook—” Jimin’s voice was barely above a breath.

“It’s not you,” Jungkook assured him. He had to know Yoongi could hear them. No way to prevent it – his headphones were in the other room. 

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, baby. He’s just scared. He’s…” Jungkook drifted off. “He isn’t mad at you.”

“Do you still want me to…”

“Are you still in the mood?” 

Jimin chuckled. “I can get into the mood again.”

“No.” Yoongi heard them kiss. “I’m not into it either. I feel bad. I pushed you guys into it. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Guilt clenched Yoongi’s heart. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Jimin’s either. It was Yoongi’s. He wished he had the nerve to roll back over, to apologize and tell them they were okay, but he couldn’t. So, he laid still, staring at the door as he listened to them pull on their shorts and cuddle, sharing quiet kisses as their breath evened out and they drifted to sleep. 

They didn’t talk about it the next morning, or the morning after, or the day after that. In fact, Jungkook and Jimin didn’t bring up that night for the remainder of the week, or the following week. Yoongi was relieved, but also… A little stung. He had wondered if maybe they would want to talk about it, bring it up in some way so he could assure them that it was him, not them. Specifically, not Jimin. But, as the days progressed, it seemed like things were no different, and Yoongi let the situation slip to the back of his mind. He had more pressing things to worry about anyways. 

Like, for example, the fact that the snow was showing no signs of melting enough for any sort of safe moving off the mountain. And the fact that it was now day thirteen without blood and he was feeling the effects of hunger. And the fact that Jimin was still stuck to his arm and he smelled so damn delicious that he was fighting the urge to show fang every ten minutes.

And to top it all off, Jin and Jungkook had decided this afternoon was the perfect time to go for a run in the woods. And Hoseok, in his own infinite wisdom, decided to go find a patch of thin ice for a swim in his own animal form. Which left Jimin and Yoongi entirely alone. 

Which wouldn’t have been so bad, really. They often spent time just sitting on the couch together, reading or listening to music, talking or just sitting, watching the fire in comfortable silence. Even after the incident in bed the week prior, this feeling of ease and comfort didn’t fade. If anything, it continued to grow.

“I wish you could’ve gone out with them,” Jimin said softly, gazing into the fire. Yoongi glanced up from his notebook. 

“Hm?”

“Jin and Jungkook. I’m sure you wanted to run with them.”

“Nah, it’s too cold for me,” Yoongi said. “I’d rather chill with the fire.”

Jimin chuckled. You don’t need to be lazy for my sake.”

“Not for your sake,” Yoongi assured him. “I really j—” A sharp pang in his stomach cut Yoongi’s words off. He doubled over, his fangs slipping out as he cried out. 

Jimin reached for him, grabbing his hand that was cuffed together. “Yoongi—”

Yoongi turned, baring his fangs and hissing, nearly catlike. 

Instead of shying away, Jimin’s face drooped. “Oh, it’s getting bad, isn’t it?” He asked. 

Yoongi dropped his head again, drawing in a deep breath. He felt like he was sweating despite an inability to do that for many years. 

“I’m fine,” he huffed.

“No, you’re not. You look sick. And I know you’re in pain. Please, I know you’re scared of hurting me, Yoongi but… Please.”

“It’s more than a fear of hurting you,” Yoongi muttered. He sat upright, closing his eyes for a second as he waited for the pain and nausea to fade. When it did, he drew in another breath and nodded. 

“Then what is it, Yoongi? Please trust me to understand.”

Yoongi hesitated. He sat back on the couch, considering. Jimin had shared his story… Maybe it was time for Yoongi to do the same. If they were to be… Friends. 

“I was turned about sixty years ago. I was twenty-eight. I don’t know… If you know much about how vampires are turned?”

“Not the details, but I know it’s a big process, death and burying and a whole ordeal.”

“It is. And generally, usually… The one who turns the new vampire stays around, it’s like giving birth to a child when all is said and done.” 

Jimin nodded in understanding. Yoongi hesitated, another wave of nausea slipping over him. He remained silent until it passed before continuing. 

“I did not have that grand bringing into the world. I never met the person that turned me.”

Yoongi heard Jimin make a small, sympathetic noise. Though he would have normally made a snarky comment, he had to admit, at that moment… It felt kind of nice.

“So, I crawled out of my grave one night… I was… God, I was so hungry. The last thing I remembered was being grabbed, and a pain in my throat. And then… Just dizziness and then darkness. I was so confused and scared and… So hungry. So thirsty.”

Yoongi shuddered despite the warmth, his stomach knotting painfully again. He curled his knees up, grimacing.

“Yoongi,” Jimin whispered. He shifted their hands, holding Yoongi’s tightly. “I’m here.”

“Oh, I know… You smell so… Fucking good, I can’t even pretend you aren’t,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin giggled a little at that.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Yoongi chuckled. The knots in his stomach released a little, allowing him to continue. “So I stumbled around the graveyard for a bit. I was looking for… Something, I didn’t know what at the time. And this young guy comes up. He was so handsome. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. Dressed very poor. But he comes up to the gat of the graveyard and calls to me. I was so happy to see someone. Someone who could tell me what happened, or help me somehow. I ran up to him. I knew I must have looked horrid. I mean I just climbed out of my damn grave, but he barely blinked. He was instantly worried for me. Helped me find the entrance gate and started walking with me and checking on me as we headed toward the village for a doctor.

And then the hunger hit again. And it was so much stronger… God, it was like someone was hitting me in the face with every delicious food I’d ever eaten at once. My entire body and mind seemed to ignite. I couldn’t control myself. I can’t tell you exactly what I was thinking at that moment except feed.”

Yoongi hesitated once more. He swallowed hard, not due to his stomach, but due to the painful memories. Jimin moved closer to him, setting his other hand on Yoongi’s thigh. “I’m here,” he whispered again, his head nearly on Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“I—I ripped his throat out, Jimin. God, I can still remember the sounds of him dying. The smells, the feeling of the blood and… The taste. The power. I was drunk on it.” 

Yoongi paused as another wave of pain hit him, shivers running down his spine. “I came to my senses a few hours later. I was in the woods, covered in blood. Everything hit me then. What I was, what I did. I tried to kill myself. But it… It didn’t work. So instead I swore I’d never place my teeth on another living human. I didn’t care if I starved to death. I’d lock myself up in a cave and wait to die if the only other option was biting a person. Risking doing what I did to that boy… I have kept that vow for sixty years, Jimin. That’s why I won’t bite you.”

“I understand,” Jimin said softly. “I do. What you went through was traumatic. But Yoongi… You don’t have the option of locking yourself up in a cave right now.”

Yoongi closed his eyes. “I know.”

“So if you do reach that point… You will kill me.”

Yoongi grimaced. Jimin squeezed his hand tighter. “I would rather have you drink some now… When you can control yourself. When you can take care of me… When we can both feel good maybe… Than die that way. Because I know you’ll hate yourself afterward.”

“I’ll hate myself either way,” Yoongi whispered.

“Fine. But at least I’ll be around to help you let go of that hate this way. And so will Jungkook.” Jimin’s lips brushed over Yoongi’s cheek. “I keep thinking about last week. How good I felt on your lap… How nice it felt to see you relax. I am sorry I offered my neck, and not just my body… But I am offering both again.”

Yoongi looked over quickly. Jimin smiled softly. “Yoongi, please let me help you.”

“Help me?” Yoongi breathed. He could hear Jimin’s heartbeat, and smell his arousal. He chuckled. “You’re propositioning a hungry vampire to have sex with you.”

“I am. I’ve heard it makes the bite feel better. Do you… Want me? That night, I wasn’t sure. I felt like we pushed…”

“No, no, I wanted you that night.” Yoongi pressed his forehead against Jimin’s. “I still do. I don’t know what changed, I—I can’t stop thinking about you these days.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Yoongi,” Jimin confessed. “But you hated me for my parents…”

“I was wrong.”

“No. You just didn’t know. Now you do.”

“And I do like you. I… God, I fell for you.”

Jimin pulled back this time, his mouth quirking up into a grin. “You did?”

“I did,” Yoongi muttered. “Don’t let it go to your head.

“I won’t.” The two sat in silence. Yoongi’s shudders were coming more regularly, his body edging closer and closer to starvation, rather than hunger. 

“Yoongi,” Jimin finally whispered. “Please take me to bed.”

Yoongi’s breath puffed out of his lungs. He nodded. Jimin rose and Yoongi let himself be pulled toward the bedroom. They were so used to the cuffs now that they moved as a unit, knowing how to twist and turn to move fluidly. It would be weird to have them off, Yoongi realized. 

Once in the bedroom, Jimin turned, pulling his shirt off. He let it dangle from the chain and smiled shyly. “Do you… Want me to…”

“No,” Yoongi pulled his own shirt off. He stepped forward, going almost chest to chest with Jimin. “The last time we stripped… You made me look away when you took off your jeans… You gonna be shy on me again?”

Jimin laughed. “Not this time.”

“Good.” Yoongi undid Jimin’s jeans, pushing them to the ground for Jimin to step out of. He kicked his own sweats off, and then his boxers, before setting his hands on Jimin’s hips. He caught the band of his boxers. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure.”

Yoongi pushed them down, stepping back to look Jimin up and down. He reached out with his free hand, palming Jimin’s cock. It twitched and hardened further in his palm, and he gave it a firm stroke. “I didn’t get a good look at you that night… I’m glad to now.”

“Like what you see?” Jimin asked. Yoongi nodded slowly. He let go of Jimin to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a sweet kiss, despite the fire raging in his veins. Jimin wrapped one arm around his shoulders, holding onto his wrist with the cuffed hand. They moved toward the bed in unison, and Jimin let himself fall back onto it. Yoongi went with him, nudging open his smooth thighs. 

Jimin looked up at him, his lips wet and full from the kiss, his cheeks rosy with life. His eyes were dark, hair brushed back from his forehead. 

“How do you—” Jimin swallowed. “Now? Or…” He touched his neck.

“Not quite yet,” Yoongi said. He reached over to where he knew Jungkook had stashed the lube, pulling the bottle out and opening it. 

The two shared soft kisses while Yoongi prepped Jimin, determined not to hurt him any more than necessary. None – if he could have his way. He could smell Jimin’s blood so strongly, his teeth aching like a sweet tooth, mouth watering as they kissed. And Jimin – oh, the creature under him couldn’t be a human – Jimin had to be an imp. Playing with fire, Jimin would scrape his tongue over Yoongi’s fangs, sometimes almost hard enough to draw blood. Each time he did, his cock would jerk against Yoongi’s hip, and Yoongi would have to refrain from giving in and biting Jimin then and there.

He resisted by some miracle, however, and pulled back, lining himself up to Jimin’s body. “Are you ready?” 

Jimin nodded, spreading his legs wider.  Yoongi laid over him, bracing himself on the hand that was cuffed. Jimin twined their fingers together, meeting Yoongi’s gaze as Yoongi pushed into him for the first time. 

Jimin’s lips parted, a sharp gasp breaking the silence of the room. Yoongi bared his fangs, his own vision going a little hazy at the tight heat of Jimin’s body. 

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice was soft, muffled. Yoongi forced himself to focus, offering what he hoped was a comforting smile – though he knew the fangs probably made that difficult. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

“I know. It feels good,” Jimin assured him. He reached his free hand down, gripping Yoongi’s ass. “You can move. I want this.”

Yoongi nodded. He began to thrust at an even pace, mindful of not going too hard. Jimin moaned under him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Curious, Yoongi reached out, pinching his left nipple. Jimin shouted, gasping. 

“Please—“

“Oh, you are sensitive,” Yoongi teased. “And responsive.”

He pinched again, this time tugging. Jimin shouted, squeezing Yoongi’s cock almost painfully tight. Yoongi continued to thrust, leaning down to gently suck and bite at each hard nub. As he did, he fisted Jimin’s cock, using his ample precome to jerk him in time to his own movements. 

He was already so close, he wished it could last longer. He wanted to stay like this, hear Jimin’s sounds of pleasure, for eternity. He moved back up, nuzzling Jimin’s neck. 

Jimin’s breath caught, his throat clicking. He let his head fall, baring his neck to Yoongi.

“Yes—“ He whispered. “Please, Yoongi… Do it…”

Yoongi pulled his cock free of Jimin’s hole, chuckling when Jimin whined.

“Don’t stop, please—“ 

Yoongi began to tease him, prodding and bumping his opening with his tip. Not enough to get any real stimulation, but feeling Jimin’s body open for him, so receptive - and the sounds of his voice as he begged for it… If Yoongi didn’t have other plans he may have come then and there.

He lined himself back up and nuzzled Jimin’s neck once more. A moment to steady himself, and then… 

His teeth penetrated Jimin’s soft neck at the same moment he drove himself into Jimin’s body once more. 

Jimin screamed, his free hand rising and scratching down Yoongi’s back. He began to pump his hips quickly, swallowing the sweet, hot blood that filled his mouth as he sucked. He ran his tongue over the puncture wounds, his saliva working to clot and slow the blood already so Jimin wouldn’t bleed too much. 

Jimin’s entire body jerked, nearly dislodging his mouth. His release spilled, hot and sticky, between their stomachs as he moaned against Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Jesus— Yoongi!” Jungkook’s voice startled Yoongi. He felt Jungkook’s hand on the back of his neck, so he released, afraid he’d drunk too much. But Jimin was grinning brightly, looking all too fucked out.

“Hey Jungkook,” he signed, moaning softly when Yoongi thrust in. 

Jungkook looked between the two, letting go of Yoongi’s neck. 

“Oh.”

“Sorry we didn’t wait for you,” Jimin teased. “You should join us now.”

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, smiling softly. “I think I will.” He began to strip, grabbing the lube to ready himself.

Yoongi looked back down at Jimin, leaning down to lick a stray dribble of blood on his neck. He thrust in, and Jimin winced. He pushed Yoongi’s chest.

“Too sensitive after I come,” he whined. “Finish with Jungkook. Oh—“ He laughed into Yoongi’s mouth when Yoongi kissed him hard, gently pulling out. He flopped next to him, still holding his hand.

Jungkook straddled his hips, dick hard. He lifted Yoongi’s cock and settled onto it, both of them gasping. He began to ride him almost immediately, leaning down to kiss them both. 

Jimin sat up, shifting over to begin sucking Jungkook’s cock as he moved, the soft wet noises punctuating the rougher ones.

Yoongi’s eyes went fuzzy as he watched the two, his toes curling against the mattress. 

“I’m close,” he warned Jungkook, who only nodded. His fingers were buried in Jimin’s hair, guiding him along his length. 

Jimin coughed and Jungkook grunted, his body shuddering and beginning to clench and relax - a sure sign of his release… Directly down Jimin’s eager throat if the soft gulping was any indication. 

Yoongi moaned softly. The pressure around his cock and the absolutely stunning image in front of him became too much far too quickly. With a deep grunt, and a firm hand on Jungkook’s hip to hold him still, Yoongi came, spilling inside Jungkook.

The three ended up in a haphazard cuddle pile as they all came down from their climaxes. Though Yoongi was sure he’d taken less than a pint from Jimin, but he still felt calm and full and strangely sated. Maybe it was due to feeding live. But maybe it was due to the two men snuggled up against his body, warming him from the outside in. 

“Any regrets?” Jimin asked sleepily, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“None. You okay?”

“I feel great. How often do you need to feed?”

“Just every few days. I won’t need much, just enough to take the edge off… I don’t want to force you—”

“Shh,” Jimin kissed his mouth to silence him. “I’m offering. You already look better. I want to help. I told you things wouldn’t be like they were sixty years ago.”

Yoongi nodded. “Thank you.” He sighed softly, looking between the two. “I have a question for both of you.”

When they looked up, he smiled. “Jungkook – you mentioned… Changing your relationship with us. And that… I believe… Implied dating.”

Jungkook nodded. 

“Do you still feel that way?”

Another nod. “Of course I do.”

“Then… I think now is a good time for me to formally ask you… Both of you… If you’d like to make this situation an official one.”

Jimin made a small noise that was a cross between an ‘oh’ and a giggle. “Are you asking out the vampire hunter’s son, Yoongi?”

Yoongi smirked. “Guess I like to live on the wild side. It’s only fair after I’ve had my teeth in your neck.” 

Jimin laughed brightly, nuzzling against Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi glanced at Jungkook, noticing he’d remained silent.

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook smiled softly. He met Yoongi’s gaze. “I never expected… When I cuffed you two together, I didn’t expect things to actually work out.”

“Are you okay with how it did?” Yoongi confirmed.

“You really do care for Jimin? This isn’t some effect of drinking his blood or… Or sex or… For peace in the apartment?”

Yoongi chuckled. He nodded. “I mean, it’ll be nice to have peace in the apartment, but no… And we aren’t affected by blood drinking or anything like that, it’s just like sitting down and having a good steak – No offense.”

“None taken,” Jimin answered. 

“So, yeah, I… I’ve really developed a fondness for Jimin over these few weeks. Spending more time with him, learning to work together. I don’t know if it’s love but it’s… Definitely more than tolerance. I do care for him a great deal. Just like you.”

“Were you not wanting this, Jungkook?” Jimin worried. “Like… I know you want me and you want Yoongi, but us… Together.”

“It’s not that.” Jungkook sat up. “I do. This is a dream, all three of us together. I just didn’t expect it. To be honest, I… I keep expecting to wake up.” He looked to Yoongi. “You really don’t hate Jimin?”

“No. I don’t… I don’t think I ever did. I was blaming him for his parents, for hunters who have killed my friends over the years… He was the face of it.” Yoongi paused, brows furrowed as he thought. “But he’s been just as much a victim to vampire hunters as anyone else. Has still been hurt and traumatized by them, in a different way, but… It’s there. I was just too stubborn to hear that until these weeks. And I regret that. Because getting to know the real Jimin these past few weeks has been so fun. I just hope that I can keep learning more about him.”

“And you don’t… Resent him, Jimin? For all that he’s said to you?”

“Not even a little. I wish he’d given me a chance earlier – but I understand fully why he didn’t. And I don’t blame him. I can’t say I would have either, in his shoes. And I’m glad that we’ve gotten over that bump and can move forward with our friendship and… Relationship.”

Jungkook seemed to relax a little, a small smile crossing his face as he looked at the two.

“So, what do you say, Jungkook?” Yoongi pressed. “Is this— Are the three of us… Okay?” 

Jungkook remained silent a moment, looking between the two. He nodded then. “You two make a cute couple.”

“And we three will make an adorable throuple,” Jimin said. Jungkook’s soft smile widened then, crinkling his nose and exposing his front teeth. 

“We will, won’t we?”

Yoongi grabbed for Jungkook with his free hand, pulling him down into a kiss. After, he turned, kissing Jimin gently. “Amazing how comfortable that feels,” he commented.

“Guess we shoulda been doing it this whole time,” Jimin said.

Yoongi nodded, kissing him once more. “I guess so. We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

“What a trio we are,” Jungkook said. “A vampire, a human, and a werewolf.”

“Unique and fun, I’d call it.”

“You know,” Jungkook said, nuzzling against Yoongi’s neck. “I’d like to point out that none of this would have happened if I hadn’t thought to cuff you two together.”

Jimin snorted, but Yoongi chuckled. “You’re not wrong… I’m gonna kinda miss being cuffed to you when we get home, Jimin.” 

Jimin grinned broadly. “It’s okay, I know you like holding my hand is all. I promise to hold it all the time, even if we’re not joined at the wrist.” He shifted, taking Yoongi’s hand and twining their fingers.

“Only if Jungkook holds my other hand,” Yoongi said, holding his free hand out. Jungkook grinned brightly and grabbed it, lacing his fingers between Yoongi’s before letting it rest on his stomach. 

Yoongi closed his eyes, sighing softly. He could hear the steady, firm heartbeats of his boyfriends, and smell their comforting scents. The taste of Jimin’s blood was still present on his tongue, but it didn’t frighten him in the way the thought of it had. It felt safe. He felt safe. Even as a vampire – deadly and near unkillable – there had always been something missing in Yoongi’s world. Something that made him feel exposed, and scared, in a way even he couldn’t pinpoint. 

And now, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel that fear. Instead he felt warmth. And he felt happiness. And he’d spend the rest of his time on earth protecting that happiness, no matter what. 

[hishoukoku]

Heyyyy. I wanted to know how if u know how cql differs from the original story. Which is better? I'm kinda lazy to read and the donghua seemed super rushed to me? The manhua i heard is similar but it doesnt give me the same vibe idk.... maybe it's just me. like even a few pointers about big story changes would help. tyyyyyyy

Heyy,

I wanna start by saying that I do love all adaptations, so I will do my best just to point out the differences without being partial (too much) for certain plot elements.

It's true that the drama is a neat way to experience the story at a slower pace, but it's so because in a TV series scenario it makes perfect sense for everything to be slower and laid out or fed to the viewer. It makes sense to overextend tender and dramatic moments or to take the time and add a bunch of funny hilarious bits.

The donghua however is absolutely amazing and 100% worth watching. The plot advancing quicker than in the drama or the novel actually makes a lot of sense given, well first this is animation. It focuses on what's really important and the way the action scenes are intertwined with the main story elements is absolutely astounding. In an animated medium they did the absolute best to bring this long story to life. Plus the art is absolutely GORGEOUS, down to every frame. I strongly recommend it.

The manhua does follow the novel almost to the letter which is so refreshing to see and it's so rad to read too, plus I like the art style and also no censorship xD

I love them all because they each work in their own way. Bringing the drama slow pace into the donghua wouldn't work at all as well as making CQL shorter and more action packed would look ridiculous.

Personally I think it's rad to watch them all and gain even more knowledge on an amazing story, by consuming the same story in multiple forms of media.I just think it's great to explore all the angles from which the story can be observed.

~

Onto a few major differences. I believe this list is far from complete, but I tried to jolt down what I could from memory:

-> Basically the main difference would be Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji uncovering the mystery of Nie Mingjue's death:

In CQL, this was changed from the novel plotline: dismembered arm(+ putting back the dismembered body) of his spirit, to a spirit sword. It ultimately leads to the same epic conclusion as it does in the novel. The culprit is unchanged, just the means to get there and the characters motivations along the way are altered.

-> Another major divergence would be the entire Yi Iron arc and the hunt for Yi Iron pieces, which takes a vast majority of the CQL flashbacks. This isn't present in the novel. The Yi Iron is only important because it practically explains the already existent and yet unpracticed demonic cultivation, which brings me to my next point.

-> In CQL Wei Wuxian is not the actual founder of demonic cultivation. Wei Wuxian still uses demonic cultivation and all his inventions are there, including of course the Stygian Tiger Amulet. The reasoning behind this is the Yi Iron plot I mentioned above, which was something that was uncovered and worshipped in the past and it's a tremendous source of dark energy and power. This leads to the fact that demonic cultivation already exists, despite no one actually using it except for Wei Wuxian (after finding the first piece in the Xuanwu shell).

-> To emphasize more on this, a big part of WWX's morality is altered in CQL. The necromancy part is also heavily downplayed in CQL. We see the same choices being made which inadvertently lead to the same conclusions, but he is always shown as more of a victim of circumstance or there's always a bigger plot at stake, pointing all the blame towards him.

Without going into a character analysis in this arc (because I absolutely adore WWX and I would talk about him for hours) I wanted to point out a few more things on this:

- In CQL he's shown to be in wrong place at the wrong time type of situations, which is sort of downgrading what the original intent behind his character was about.

- I feel like the novel has built WWX to be very self-aware and more realistic and human. He knows exactly where his stands and what his moral compass is the entire time. He blames himself even for stuff out of his control and every decision he ever made no mater how it was perceived as, was all rooted in and filtered through his absolute sense of justice and selflessness. He's aware of his mistakes and assumes responsibility. He's very absolute about the decisions he sticks to and he's extremely intelligent and calculated.

Then again, I'm not blaming CQL per say for altering this, I know every divergence to his character was solely due to censorship (as morality usually is in cdramas), I just wish he'd been given a lot more credit where credit is due, like in the novel. Because he deserves a lot more validation and recognition. Absolving him of everything he ever did is actually a disservice to all the pain he endured and all the work he put into the cause he believes in and simply striving to survive and in the unfair, judgemental cultivation world.

-> The structure of the story is different. The novel, donghua and manhua jump from flashbacks to present time back and forth, while in CQL, episode 3 to episode 33(halfway) are all flashbacks presenting the entire past story arc to you, before returning to the present fully. Again, to have everything laid out in order, works well in a TV series environment.

-> The relationship between WangXian evolves differently. The novel has Wei Wuxian mistakenly concluding that Lan Wangji doesn’t like him, driving a wedge between them after the Nightless City events. This of course, has a beautiful natural progression into romantic relationship, later on after he resurrects.

CQL on the other hand shows Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji having a very close relationship from the moment they reunite as Wei Wuxian died knowing Lan Wangji cares deeply about him. I believe this to be a bit utopic as, technically without previous explicit romantic affection - censorship -, Wei Wuxian's actions wouldn't normally lead to such an easy transition into them being extremely close, especially for someone as stoic as Lan Wangji. True, Lan Wangji has always believed in Wei Wuxian's sense of integrity and justice and this was prepared beforehand, however it would make even more sense if this was backed, like in the novel, by love as a powerful incentive.

-> Wei Wuxian's reincarnation in Mo Xuanyu's body doesn't cause him to alter his appearance in CQL. This isn't really explained except for subtle hints that Mo Xuanyu took precautions to ensure Wei Wuxian looked like his original self, but ofc we can tell it was done so due to convenience.

In the novel it's clearly stated how Wei Wuxian takes Mo Xuanyu's appearance which makes complete sense to happen after he used the Sacrifice Summon.

This would be about it as main pointers, if you'd like me to go into details for any of them please let me know. Otherwise I feel like this post is already long enough, heheh.

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking​, @must-be-a-weasley-92​, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth​

[chalkrevelations]

Street Dance of China S3, Ep 3. It sounds like maybe I should step up my pace on these, as they’ve announced the captains for S4 now? (Yibo back, Lay Zhang back, plus a couple of new guys I don’t actually recognize yet.) When is this going to air because it is just LAUGHABLE that I can keep up with 3+ hours of this a week. Particularly if I’m going to keep obsessively re-watching Word of Honor AND try to finally finish Killer & Healer in the miniscule free time I actually have for teevee. There’s certainly no way I can watch and dither on about 3+ hours/week worth of dance show in realtime before January, at least.

ANYWAY, this ep, we get a recap of everyone falling out after the captains’ cypher, and we learn who got the final extra towels and passed through to the next round: Lu Jiao Ni, who we barely see, on Team Jackson Wang; Yuan Ye (as promised) and A Li (who we barely see) on Team Lay Zhang (ETA: Wait, we find out later that A Li isn’t even on Lay’s team, she’s on Yibo’s - he wouldn’t move her on, and she gets one of Lay’s towels instead); Bullet (as promised) on Team Wang Yibo; and Xiao Ming (as promised? maybe? as we’ve barely seen this guy?) on Team Wallace Chung.

This week: Out of 400 people, we’re down to 105. Not all of these faces are familiar, and I suspect I don’t really need to learn 90 percent of the unfamiliar faces. I … am going to go out on a limb and make a guess that one of the dancers whose name has been bolded in one of the past two episode recaps is going to be the ultimate winner, because I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ, and I suspect I know how this works. I wouldn’t even put money on any of those five bolded names in the previous paragraph, quite honestly. Anyway, now it’s time to start culling down to 60. We bring out the team captains, and my first reaction is “MY EYES” because wth are some of you wearing? Wow. Yibo’s shoelaces are all over his jacket. Wallace looks like he rolled a flasher on the street for his trenchcoat. Lay Zhang is wearing a baggy pink jumpsuit, and I guess, OK, it’s easier to maneuver bathroom breaks in one of those when you have a dick, but that’s definitely a fashion trend that should have stayed back in the ‘80s. I guess questionable fashion is an international phenomenon.

There’s also an empty chair for the promised Mystery Guest, and there’s a game with clues, and a lot of guesses from our captains about who the Mystery Guest will be, and Jackson does A Bit through the whole thing. I don’t know whether to be entertained or annoyed by him. He’s the only one without some egregiously questionable fashion choices (so far) this episode, so maybe he gets a pass. Anyway, I don’t have the pop cultural context to understand the guesses, and I also don’t have either the pop cultural context or the knowledge of this area of dance to grok the Mystery Guest’s identity, but he’s Huang Bo, and apparently he had more than 1000 dance performances in the 1990s, so he must be at least as old as me and Wallace, if not older. Yibo takes the opportunity to make the – very NON-politic – remark that maybe HE wasn’t even born yet at the time? That … is not the way to win friends and influence people, Infant. Also, the Mystery Guest is NOT the person Jackson kept doing A Bit about. The reveal is all very dramatic, and he does a lil’ bit of choreography from of each of the four Extant Captains’ videos before he takes off his mask, and they act appropriately impressed, and there are some girls with short shorts among his backup dancers, so that all happened. The show obviously wants me to be very impressed by him. Show also tells us he’ll have a special skill that will be very important and at least leads us to believe that he’s going to be the “life-saver,” so the audience immediately curries favor, or at least plays at it.

Next up: Rules. Eliminations this week involve contestants self-selecting into groups of anywhere from one to five people and performing for a panel of all the captains. Teams pull a number out of a hat for performance order. Thumbs up from all four captains, you go to the next round. Abstentions from all captains, you go home. Thumbs up from some and abstentions from others, you face the possibility of a call-out from other contestants, whereupon you have to dance for your life battle to find out which of you stays and which of you goes. Oh, and we’re only going to keep going until the 60 available seats are filled, and then we’re done. If you’re number 35, you’d better be prepared to battle someone earlier and kick their ass, or you’re fucked, you don’t even get to dance. I’ve said it before: Audentes Fortuna adiuvat. Only wait, ETA: There will be some last minute BS rules fuckery, in a way that is clearly intended to save someone in particular, which I feel some kind of way about - and it is not really the way that almost everyone on the show seems to feel - but I guess we’ll get to that later.

And cue ridiculously long nattering, so we’re going to cut here.

First group is Lin Meng (Team Wallace), Teng Zai (Team Lay), Bing - of the infamous motorbike flirtation - and Dian Men (both Team Yibo), along with a dude we haven’t actually seen yet, Tang Qian (also Team Yibo). Your lack of even B-roll so far is concerning re: your chances in this competition, Tang Qian. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, this is a powerhouse group, and at least Lin Meng and Teng Zai are familiar with each other because they’re from the same crew, and Xiao Bao remarks from the audience of contestants that these guys are going to go through, no matter what. They’re going to do a totally popping routine. My sound drops out at the beginning which … yeah, makes them look even more like a boyband at the beginning, in their matching baseball uniform shirts. So, here’s the thing, they’re a little muddled, they don’t move smoothly around each other on stage - their dance moves are coordinated, but they’re not moving in space like a group that understands each other. (Somewhere in here, my sound comes back, and Yibo already can’t hold still to the music.) The other thing is, though - all of these guys are very good at what they do, they finally hit their stride a minute or so in, and when they do, they hit it hard. I’m frankly surprised they don’t get passed right through to the next round, but Jackson abstains on the vote, and when called upon to explain himself, it turns out he just wants to see them battle. I can understand the impulse, Jackson, but this is already super stressful on all the dancers, and it doesn’t escape my notice that you’re the only one of the four captains without a dog in this particular fight, so a little bit you look like you’re doing this just because you can. Remember this, because it will set a bad example for an 11th -hour vote. Anyway, there’s the chance for a callout, which no one takes because the entire audience is convinced this group is too good to beat. Five of 60 seats taken.

Group two is Shen Kai Xiang – the Jack Ma lookin’ dude. He’s flying solo. He gets to stand around uncomfortably for a while onstage while Special Guest Huang Bo does A Bit making fun of all of the captains’ speech patterns and accents and pronunciation, except Yibo’s, because Yibo apparently never talks. Ha ha. (I’m also wondering if there’s some socio-cultural stuff underlying some of this that I’m not cued in enough to fully understand.) Huang Bo then tells the contestant that Jackson has probably fucked him over by praising him too effusively (he came from Jackson’s team, and Jackson already is displaying a tendency to rhapsodize about how everything is “ART”), so all the captains now will have inflated expectations that Shen Kai Xiang is surely only going to fail to meet. I’m beginning to suspect that Huang Bo’s Special Guest Superpower is not “lifesaver” but “kind of annoying asshole.” Maybe it’s to take that particular spotlight off of Chick. ANYWAY, Shen Kai Xiang FINALLY gets to perform, and he gets a little bit of a slow start, but he packs in a lot of elements and gets a LOT of good air in his moves once he gets wound up. He’s lyrical and super emo about it. I’m kind of “eh” on him – technically, he’s good, but I’m not particularly connecting with him, which I’m willing to admit could be a me thing, as everyone else seems super-impressed. Three captains pass him through. Yibo does not and explains this decision as personal preference – he likes more “underground” styles, more battle styles. Huang Bo brings back the issue of too-high expectations to help explain why Shen Kai Xiang isn’t being passed directly to the next round, even though Yibo just explained his decision and that is literally not the reason he explicitly gave. Anyway, Shen Kai Xiang gets no call outs, which seems to surprise Yibo, and we’re at six of 60 seats taken.

In quick succession, we move through Liang Hua Jie – we don’t see much of him, but we learn that while Wallace likes his musicality, Yibo doesn’t like his face (OK, doesn’t like his facial expressions, which, what can I say? I get this. If I’d had the power to unilaterally send home Lacey Schwimmer on her season of SYTYCD, I’d have done it, that’s how fucking annoying I found the way she’d mug for the camera the entire time she danced. Like I couldn’t even watch her dancing, because I was too distracted by what she was doing with her FACE the whole time.); Jian De Chao (wait, is this Chao from the first episode?) & Chen Zui – who, from what we get to see of them have some good flow and move pretty well together, but can get a little bit mushy in their moves, and Yibo likes their skills, but Lay thinks they don’t feel like a group, which what? Incorrect; and a group that’s dubbed themselves Purple Storm Show, which includes Alex from Jackson’s team and four other people who I can’t even catch – we barely see their performance, and Lay likes them, but Jackson thinks they’re flat. I can’t tell if any or all of these guys were sent through to the next round or sent home, but if they didn’t make it, then  :(  because I liked Alex, and he got hit in the eye for this, he deserves better than to get sent home because his team can’t get it together. We still have no group that’s been passed through by all four captains.

And then, next up is another powerhouse team: Gongsu Wu Ming and Hei Zai (Team Lay), George and Xiao Ming (Team Wallace), and (Xiao) Bai (Team Jackson). Yibo is skeptical about an all B-boy group, and don’t make me fight you, Yibo, because an all B-boy group is like my dream come true (sorry, poppers; sorry, lockers; my heart truly belongs to the B-boys, they are my favorite). We learn they added a flip at the last minute – an assisted flip, with a couple of them flinging George into the air over the other two of them. Wu Ming thinks that George is the only one of all the competitors who could do it, but George – who has a little more skin in the game than anyone else, as the guy who could potentially land on his head wrong - is a bit concerned about whether they’re going to pull it off. They start, and they’re all good, a little bit muddled before they hit their stride, but the slo-mo cartwheel is great, and from there, they’re off and running. This is why I like the B-boys – I know it takes a lot out of you to do this, but there is nothing – nothing­ – like the magnetic energy they can generate when they’re in their performance headspace and everything is flowing. This is a performance, and Wu Ming has talked a little bit about wanting to step up breaking, and if this is the sort of thing he wants to do, I’m all for it – give him the platform now. I’m going to take just a minute to single out Bai and say that he’s better when he’s not doing A Bit like he did in his initial performance for Lay Zhang – he’s much more electric here, and someone else’s choreography may make the difference. Jackson, Yibo, Lay – they’re all out of their seats, none of them can hold still in the face of this. We get to the end, and unfortunately, everyone else is kind of cluttered and mushy moving into position for the flip – that is not a way to go out guys, DO NOT DO THAT at the last minute – but then George f’kn NAILS the flip, so that’s thankfully the last impression they leave. The captain’s faces are a picture. (Except Wallace, who’s suddenly too cool to give us anything, apparently.) FIRST ALL-PASS. George’s assessment: “Not bad.” :facepalm: OK, Mr. Cool Guy. They also cut in a post-interview bit with Bai about the performance, and he notes that they all know each other, they’ve been battling each other for like, a decade, now. Dance together more, guys.

Moving on, we fortunately have another very strong group to follow them: Gai Gai, Wang Tao and Huang Xiao, all from Jackson’s team, and you can tell he badly, badly wants to start in on the ART! bit but he (loudly) keeps his mouth shut about this group until after the performance. The only one of these three we’ve seen so far this season has been Gai Gai, but they all dance in the same group together, and they seem to be well-known by a lot of the other competitors, particularly Huang Xiao, both as a dancer and a choreographer. They say they’re doing jazz, although I’d be more likely to call this contemporary, if I was going to put them in a box. They are gorgeous – lyrical, fantastic dance vocabulary, amazing choreography, beautiful musicality, and the way they move together as a unit is … :chef’s kiss:  I think Huang Xiao may be the best of the three, technically, but there’s something ineffably charismatic about Gai Gai that’s pulling focus a bit – just a bit – more than the other two in this performance. If there’s a weak link, it’s Wang Tao, and really, that’s only by comparison with the other two, which is a really high bar. We get some shots of the audience of competitors worrying about Yibo’s reaction, given his preference for the old-school battle dancers and an apparent “strictness” with urban dancers and related genres, but these three also get an All-Pass to the next round, and Yibo talks to them a little bit about the choreography and his (complimentary) reactions to the performance before they leave the stage.

And then. Oh, dear. Then we get a group of three – Da Mao, A Li and Tall(? Maybe? It looked like he was going to get out of this anonymously – probably lucky for him – but then the subtitles threw up this name on him at the last minute) – who are the only krumpers who’ve made it this far. Lay Zhang is really promoting them, because he really wants to see a bigger krump presence, and he’s really nervous about their performance, and he really, really should not have pinned his hopes on these three, because I hate to say it but they are a hot fk’n mess. They are … not good. I can’t believe any of the three made it this far, and in fact, we learn after their performance, while everyone is sitting in a kind of stunned horror (and y’all, I am not exaggerating for effect there), that Yibo did not pass A Li on from his team, that she got one of Lay Zhang’s final extra battle towels. I mean, there’s an obvious gap in the quality of this performance compared to everyone else we’ve seen. There’s also a lot of pacing around and standing around instead of dancing. They’re trying for the attitude, but they’re not managing it. They do manage to get an embarrassed reaction from Chick, which says something all on its own, as I wasn’t aware that he had any shame. Other competitors also are doing the embarrassment-squick cringe in the audience. Lay Zhang is literally hiding behind his clipboard. This is the first All-Out we get, where they’re directly eliminated – not even Lay can bring himself to vote “yes” on them. Now, all the krumpers are gone, and Lay is visibly sad and frustrated, but as we appear to move to a little bit of a break, Yibo displays the most emotional intelligence of anyone there and asks Lay to teach him how to krump, to distract him and get him actually doing the dancing he enjoys for a little bit. It’s also a chance for Yibo to learn a new thing, and he talks about his chance to improve in a little interview bit from later on that’s cut in here. I mean, yes, that actually was kind of a sad attempt at krump during the cypher, my dude, so this can only help you, but you also are being an extremely good guy, giving your fellow captain some emotional support right now. Thumbs up.

Next up, we have AK Dong (Team Wallace), also flying solo, and they give us a little heart-tugging B-roll about how he doesn’t have a team with him there, so he’s going it alone. He’s fantastic right out of the gate - good musicality, clean and precise, and he’s got a nice texture to his performance, it feels … full even though it doesn’t feel as big and expansive as some of the other dancers. Unfortunately, Lay doesn’t agree with me (incorrect), says he wants a performance that’s more elegant and “balanced,” and is the single holdout vote, which opens my dude up to a call-out challenge. This is the guy who looks like comedian Hank Chen, which has overshadowed his dancing twice now, because he had to listen to it from Haung Bo when he came out to dance, and he CANNOT catch a break, because now he gets challenged by three teams, including Bouboo’s team, which also includes Klash, Bullet and Colin (all Team Yibo), plus Boris (Team Lay), who we’ve only seen B-roll of so far although he speaks good Chinese, despite being from … I’m not sure where, but not China? AK Dong complains about how Boris looks at him with innocent eyes and tells him that they have no option other than to challenge, which is true (ETA: insofar as we know at this point), because they’re #36, and the 60 slots would almost certainly fill up before they even get a chance to dance. This team wins the bottle spin against the other two challengers, and I mean. :hands: This is a slaughter. They’re five-on-one, and they’re all really good at what they do, they make it look effortless, and AK Dong’s face is going to kill me. Wallace actually does vote for him, but the other three vote for the team, and that’s five more seats filled, and AK Dong eliminated, and I’m annoyed (although not as much as I’m gonna be) because I liked him, and I would have liked for him to get a chance to dance without having to listen to the Hank Chen nonsense at least once.

Next, we have Li Yue & Sha Sha, who appear to dance together on the regular. They have a kind of sultry number put together as the Green Snake and the White Snake that is … hm. I don’t know if we’re classifying this as urban or jazz for the purposes of the show, but it’s another piece that fits more into my contemporary box, if we were classifying them for most of the Western dance spaces I’ve seen. They’re good, as befits this stage of the competition, but a little inconsistent, technically. Also, I don’t find them particularly exciting to watch – I feel like something’s missing, although I can’t quite put my finger on what. I’m not sure their flow is consistent, and they’re probably not helped by following Gai Gai, Huang Xiao and Wang Tao. They get three yes votes from Lay, Yibo and Jackson, although they are … enough to maybe make Yibo a slight bit uncomfortable, being the shy and fragile homosocial forest creature that he may be, or that he may be getting edited as, who knows. Huang Bo pokes at Lay Zhang about his reaction to and vote for them. He also basically says that Wallace didn’t vote for them because Wallace wasn’t turned on by them, because Wallace is still doing his imperturbable cool-as-a-cucumber routine. Wallace’s hold-out vote opens them up to a call-out, and several groups come down to challenge, including – bad luck for Li Yue and Sha Sha – TI, who win the bottle spin. This group includes choreographer Zheng Jian Peng, as well as Su Lianya, who I didn’t realize was a TI member, both Team Wallace, along with … oh my god, Wei Ming, who’s the “Sir, what are you doing?” guy from Episode 2 when Wallace was giving out towels to poppers like candy, and I’m kind of pleased he’s made it this far, just based on that moment, alone, never mind any dancing skills. Rounding out the group are Long Long and Wei Lin, both from Team Yibo, and I think we got B-roll of Wei Lin at some point during Yibo’s eliminations in the first couple of eps. I know nothing about Long Long at this point. At any rate, everybody in this group is so good, I can finally see how they got their rep – fantastic musicality, and a great job of working as a unit. They feel like a team, even when they don’t manage to be quiiiiite synchronized. I’m not really feeling their costumes. Su Lianya continues to be a standout, even in a group that sets the bar this high. Wallace’s composure finally breaks when the other team captains evince interest in poaching her, and oh my god, he still has the hair elastic that he held for her at her initial performance, that they said would be a token of their vow to go all the way in the competition together. OK, I give Wallace a lot of shit, but this is actually kind of adorable. He literally pulls it out of his pocket to tell the other captains they can’t have her and to plead with her to remember their promise to each other. TI gets three votes and moves on. (Lay, still apparently captivated by the snake ladies although not enough to bald-facedly vote for them in the wake of TI’s performance, abstains.)

Next up are Tao and CiCi, and OK. I’m going to be honest here. I think they’re leveraging the “couple” schtick for all it’s worth, and good for them, it looks like they can pull it off, because I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is influenced a lot by their coupleness, but at the same time, I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is actually influenced by their coupleness rather than their dancing. I mean, Su Lianya and Wei Lin are in the audience of competitors clutching each other’s hands and crying, and it seems to be just as much about Tao telling CiCi out loud that he loves her just before the music starts and the fact that they kiss as part of the piece, if not more than it’s about their actual dancing. The show is also really pushing me on this, because whereas, with everyone else, it tosses up closed captions that tell me what moves are happening (in addition to dialogue subs), now I’m getting things like “heaven-made match.” They’re good, but I think they actually also suffer a bit from following the Gai Gai/Huang Xiao/Wang Tao powerhouse, because I think we’re unlikely to get anything on the lyrical side of things that’s going to match up to that for the rest of the day. Tao and CiCi are better than Li Yue and Sha Sha were, and it is pretty badass the way she manages to make herself so small and compact she literally disappears behind him for that last little bit, and if they’d won the bottle spin on the last callout, they would have won the challenge, I have no doubt. But. :hands: I think the show has actually done that thing Huang Bo accused Jackson of earlier and set my expectations too high. I’m’a sound like Yibo – or like Yibo normally would, because he also seems to get suckered into the overwhelmed reaction for this – and say that I think Tao was better in the less lyrical style when he danced with Yibo and Bing in the Ep 2 towel battle. They get an All-Pass from the captains and talk about their inspiration for the piece, which apparently is a couple who confessed their love to each other the day before the girl had to go into COVID quarantine, and well, now I guess I feel like just a little bit of an asshole for not appreciating the COVID love story properly? Anyway, the captains then keep asking them intrusive questions about their relationship, and Huang Bo mocks Lay for apparently never being in love so he won’t understand what it’s like, and I’m cringing in my seat a little before Jackson gets us back on track and Tao and CiCi finally go sit down.

Then Huang Bo takes the chance to go over to the contestants who haven’t performed yet and stress them out about how few of the 60 available seats are left. I mean, I guess it’s part of competition, but come on, dude.

ANYWAY, next up, we have a group calling themselves Team Wake Up – it’s the waackers, and this group includes Xiao Bao and San Jin from Team Lay, along with a guy we haven’t seen yet, Tu Zi; Meng Di from Team Yibo; and Gao Shi Yu, who we also haven’t seen, from Team Wallace. They start working it, and I’m like, oh wait … and then they hit the Cat Walk, and I’m like, oh shit, and a light bulb finally goes off, because I’ve been super-fk’n slow, but now they’ve shown me what this genre is about, and I’m interested to see what they do here, because a lot of this performance could be straight off the floors of the ball scene. The entire group is pretty good, although I do think Gao Shi Yu is the weak link, she’s not quiiiiite up to the standard of the rest of them. They move well as a group, though, good coordination, sharp and clean, fantastic musicality, high energy all the way through, with EXCELLENT attitude, which is half the battle, because if you’re not confident for this kind of thing – or if you can’t at least fake it flawlessly – you might as well not even be out there. They all do lose a little bit of focus when they’re in the background as they break out for their individual moves, and they fall apart a tiny bit near the end. Also, Meng Di’s belt is off-center, and I know that sounds super picky, but it kept distracting me, so I wish that hadn’t been the case. Xiao Bao is definitely still the standout here – he takes the lead from the minute they come out, with the mic, and never really relinquishes it. We finally get to see San Jin perform, and his extension could be better. Tu Zi must be lacking in the charisma department to not have shown up before this, because he’s better than I expected. Before they started, the group that Xiao Jie and Yang Kai are in together – who still haven’t performed – were debating if they should challenge this group, but Xiao Jie advised waiting to see how good they were, and then after the performance is all, “nooo, we should not challenge,” and props to you for not just writing off the waackers, my man, because they get an All-Pass, and there’s not even a chance for a callout. Before we move on, Wallace clams he’s learned some waacking during the show, and the other captains (led by Jackson, who calls him gege) make him demonstrate, and the contestants, who know what side their bread is buttered on, applaud.

Available seat check. Yibo participates in further stressing out the contestants by saying “Like, a dozen?” All y’all need to be challenging whatever chance you get. Now I bet you’re sorry you didn’t challenge Shen Kai Xiang back at the beginning, aren’t you?

Next up is our group of X-Crew representatives, hop-hop, and Yibo is excited. I almost expect him to do a little dance in his seat. Yang Kai helpfully lets me know that this group is from the top hip-hop crew in China. Oh, hey, that’s Qin Yu, from Team Wallace, the guy who Gongsu Wu Ming immediately recognized as the weak link in one of the towel battles and got up on; the guy who subsequently got taken out by Teng Zai, My Beloved. Qin Yu, the guy we hadn’t even had B-roll on, and still don’t. I wonder if I’m reading too much into that. He’s joined by Flea (which I’m assuming is a direct translation, as it doesn’t sound like “flea” when he says his name?) and Ding, also from Team Wallace - neither of whom we’ve seen before, I think - along with Ting and Lei Xiao Yang from Team Jackson. This is also the first time we’ve seen Lei Xiao Yang. I … feel weirdly unconfident about the famed X-Crew, given we haven’t seen more of them before this. Then again, we’d only seen Gai Gai from her group, so maybe this is a BigSurprise!edit … Ting comes out hard and heavy, and I actually think this is the best performance we’ve seen from her so far. She spends a lot of time out in front on this one, and I don’t think I got from her initial appearance or from her towel battle performances just how good she actually is. Overall though … I am … not that impressed with this group. They start out strong, but then they get sloppy. They have trouble working as a unit, which is surprising from people who supposedly have experience dancing together. They’re all very good, but they’re not synchronized. A lot of their solo showcase bits lack complexity, and that is an understatement. Qin Yu still has some of that nice fluidity along with his pretty face, but he’s not balanced, and he absolutely does not have the finesse he needs to pull this off. They all do move into the end strong, together again, hard, power behind their moves - almost everything from the slo-mo move is good - but … it’s a little late, y’all. That took way too long to get back together. And then, they inexplicably descend into … it’s not even sloppiness, it’s an utter hot mess during, like, the last 15 seconds of the performance, which is absolutely not the final impression you want to leave. And … wow. Shit. There are captains who actually agree with me on this. Sometimes you see the expected top dancers allowed to slide some in these early rounds of competition shows, but not this time – Wallace and Yibo both vote yes, but Jackson and Lay both abstain, and Jackson … wow. Wow. Is disappointed in them and expected more. Despite the fact that he’s like, 12, and that he’s done this to past groups just because he wanted to see them battle, a little bit this actually has a vague feeling of your dad telling you how much you’ve let him down. The audience is shocked, but I’m glad to hear someone say it. It was a good - if spotty - performance but certainly not the best we’ve seen.

So, we have a callout, and the group with Xiao Jie and Yang Kai, which also includes some guys named Shen Zi Hao, Xiao Zhi Bin and Oscar, pounces. And that is a very deliberate word choice, because these guys are on X-Crew like a lion on the trailing gazelle. They’re in their Men In Black suits (ETA: Wait, no, I think maybe they’re Agent Smith suits), and the audience of other competitors is losing it. Xiao Bao is very excited about Xiao Jie. Both Yibo and Jackson look like they’re in actual physical pain, to be forced to make the choice that’s coming up. Ting looks like she’s getting ready to throw up – she’s accepting this with less equanimity than she did the possible results of her initial performance, at least on the surface. I … am dreading losing her, actually, because I suspect that’s what’s getting ready to happen, and I am so so sorry, baby, that you worked so hard to carry your crew like that and they couldn’t keep their shit together. On the one hand, I’m impressed they’re pitting this level of competition against each other so early. On the other, I feel Jackson’s and Yibo’s pain. God. God. The Xiao Jie-Yang Kai group is here to f’kn battle. This is shaping up to be a slaughter. They are fast, clean, precise, great musicality, complex moves, super performance. They’re synchronized, high energy, fantastic animation – which could be a little cheesy, but they’re confident and fearless enough to pull it off - fun and interesting. They are maybe a little bit too gimmicky to be perfect for my taste, but I’m not the one voting them through, and what they’ve come up with is perfect for the audience that matters – the captains, the majority of which are 20-something-year-old boys – and knowing your audience, and performing for them, is a skill, too. BIGGEST (and frankly, only) ISSUE: Somebody fucked up a move, right at the beginning … I think maybe Yang Kai? (ETA: Yah, it was Yang Kai, ugh, what a time for that to happen.) If you’re going to fuck up, best to do it at the very beginning, I guess, and then give this performance afterward, to mitigate it as much as possible, but that one misstep gives the captains enough excuse put off a decision they really don’t want to make, like it’s not just going to make it worse to kick the can down the road a few minutes. Split vote, 2-2 (I thiiink, Yibo and Jackson for X-Crew, Lay and Wallace for the challengers?), which throws it to a further battle. Ting and Xiao Jie, one-on-one, and both of them are feeling the pressure of competing for their entire team instead of just themselves. Two rounds, hiphop and locking. So, each of them is better in their specialty. Ting’s got some fantastic, precise moves for the hiphop round. Xiao Jie is not as good in this round; I do notice he’s got a more directly confrontational style when he’s battling. I feel like she’s doing more waacking than locking in the locking round. Overall, she’s cleaner, more precise, he’s got a little bit more energy. I wouldn’t want to make this decision, frankly. I think Ting was better technically, but Xiao Jie might be the better performer – better at all that other stuff that adds up to stage presence. I do wonder how much of the captains’ decision is influenced by the groups, and who the captains are or aren’t willing to lose, even though it’s supposed to be based on this 1x1 battle. Just looking at who the show has put emphasis on already, we’ve got Ting vs. Xiao Jie AND Yang Kai, and I don’t know that they’re going to want to let that one-two punch go. Wallace votes Ting and X-Crew. Yibo and Lay vote Xiao Jie and the challengers. Jackson, the coward, abstains. Looks like Ting and X-Crew are going home, and this is the first cut that I’m genuinely upset about seeing. Ting feels bad for letting her crew down, but they let you down first, baby, or you wouldn’t even have been in that position.

Available seat check: 12. Dancers left: 27. Well.

We’re coming up on two hours now, and there’s clearly some kind of drama we want to get to, because we whip through the next few performances – few names, limited time spent on them. The ones who do make it through are likely cannon fodder in the next couple of rounds. There’s a group of four in khakis that gets sent through to the next round; Yibo liked their moves. Guy named Zhan Ke in a suit goes through to the next round. We’ve turned into a clip show now, and the screen literally says “ … ” at one point as each group of competitors gets 3 seconds of airtime. Cut to three seats left out of the 60. There’s about seven people left, and … that includes Chick. I have a sinking feeling this guy is going to be the real focus, at this point. He’s paired up with some dude named Long, and they have lost the bottle spin on callout after callout after callout, so they’ve never had a chance to challenge, and now, look at these morose motherfuckers, still sitting in the bleachers. I almost feel bad for them.

So, three seats left, and the next group is three people: Yang Qi aka “Apple” from Team Jackson, Lin from Team Lay and Bobo from Team Wallace. Urban dancers. I lose sound on them right at the beginning, but they’ve got some nice sharp moves, good choreography, they work well as a unit. Solid performance, if not the best we’ve seen. Apple’s got the best technique, I think. Audience likes them a lot. We get a cut to Chick and the other competitors who haven’t danced yet as we count down for the vote, and they are all dying. Three votes yes. Yibo abstains. Huang Bo is so prepared for this group to be sent right through that he starts clapping and congratulating them, and Yibo has to be all, “Wait, no. Not yet.” The captains give their reasoning: Jackson says that he felt their power, emotion, speed all deserved full marks. Yibo agrees.

Yibo agrees.

…

...

…

Their faces in response, y’all. Their little WTF faces as he explains that he really just wants to see the other dancers, too. Oh my god, Yibo. You can’t just say that out loud. Are you serious with this, you can’t even make up a thing to fake critique them on? Cut to a later interview with Bobo, who’s been the least able to school his face journey in response to this: “Wang Yibo, I won’t forget.” Also, Bobo says, you’re not even hot. (lol) Joking aside, the group goes on to make all the correct noises about sure, it’s a competition, you face competitors, it’s what happens, because what are you gonna say? Meanwhile, to be completely honest, I’m probably the person who’s been least able to school their face journey in response to this, because come on, Yibo. It’d be one thing if you were making some kind of statement about the way they set this up from the beginning, with all competitors unable to participate, but I’m pretty sure you’re actually doing this to give Chick another chance, because you have been inexplicably all up on his jock since he showed up, what is it about this guy? I don’t get it. At all.

So, we get a callout, and everyone left challenges, of course, because this is probably the last chance. The audience is rooting for Chick. I still don’t get it. Bottle spin ends up on … Zhao Hai Jie, from Team Wallace, who we’ve never yet seen perform. Here’s the thing: If he can win this battle, then he only takes one seat, leaving another two seats available. However, he is NOT going to win this battle, not without ripping off any figleaf of fair competition that the show may have, because he’s just not that great. If he wins, there’s no way around the fact, right in your face, that it’s a strategic vote. He does not win. Four votes for Apple, Lin and Bobo. Sixty seats filled.

HOWEVER, just in case you were worried there may be any integrity here, director Lu Wei comes ambling out to say, hey, you know those rules we have in place? Well, fuck ‘em. Who cares. Let everybody left battle, and whoever wins that battle can have a seat along with the 60 other people. I’m going to translate this one, because despite the limitations of my Level 1 Duolingo Mandarin, I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ and I feel like I’m pretty fluent in Dance Show BS: “We really want to keep somebody who’s left, so there’s going to be some chicanery on our part.” They really do not want Chick to go home, y’all. I know it’s him. It’s super extra obvious they’re desperately trying to save him, at this point. And I am here to tell you that if Chick ends up on this show and Ting goes home, there will be nothing on this earth that could possibly resurrect Chick from the Pit of My Dislike.

Anyway, we get Dai Dai from Team Lay, who describes herself as a fusion dancer and is pretty good for the first 40 seconds or so of her music and then completely loses the thread and kind of falls apart. The captains do not seem impressed. Possibly they also know we’re just killing time until we get to Chick. Up next is Su, who is Very Dramatic. He doesn’t say what team he’s from, but given Wallace’s reactions, I suspect he’s from Team Wallace. I suspect Yibo’s not going to like his face. His performance goes increasingly off the rails as he goes on. He’s got a lot of goodwill from the audience of competitors, but no. This is not a winning performance. And then we get Chick & Long, literally the last to perform. Chick spends the entire time doing A Bit. Long, who anyone barely remembers is even there, does 2/3+ of the dancing. Everyone – everyone – is apparently vastly entertained by Chick, and I just … :hands: Fine. He’s a character, but I have yet to see anything in three episodes, across, like, 7 hours, that lets me see whether he can really dance or not. Yibo literally tells Jackson, “He doesn’t have many tricks, but he’s got a ton of ideas” and later says he’s a B-boy without a power move. Anyway, one vote for Su (Wallace), three votes for Chick and Long. We’re at 62 dancers, and I cannot believe I’m going to be subjected to Chick’s continued clownery when Ting has to go home.

Thank GOD we’re activating the Special Guest Host Powers, the first of which is “REVIVE,” i.e., bring someone back who was eliminated. Yibo is immediately like, omg, the hip-hop group. Then we do Yet Another Bit where the captains cater to Huang Bo so that he’ll take their advice on who to revive, and it goes on too long when we are, my god, two hours and fourteen minutes into this. Meanwhile, Yibo reiterates, the hip-hop group. Yeah, Yibo, this I approve of - if I gotta watch you fall all over yourself over Chick, you need to get Ting back for me. So, we’re finally getting the captains’ actual recommendations: Jackson says the hip-hop group, possibly feeling bad about the fact that he’s the one who spiked their chance the first time around? Yibo is all, me too! Yes! That one! It’s kind of adorable. Also, yes, Yibo, you need to get Ting back for me. Lay says Li Yue and Sha Sha, the white and green snakes. Wallace recommends a popping group that I don’t even know if we saw perform? At any point in the past 7+ hours of three episodes? Wallace, are you high? Anyway, THANK GOD, Huang Bo brings back the X-Crew group. We’re at 67 dancers.

Second Special Guest Host Power is … “battle?” So, we’re setting up Qiang Qi Da Zhan, aka Seven to Smoke, which they’ve apparently done in past seasons? Each captain picks two people – eight total – to participate. Twenty minutes total. Increments of 30 seconds each to battle. And I guess you have to accumulate seven points in various battles. We don’t get to hear the captains’ picks, but I can see that AK Dong is called back for this one. Also, I spot one of the krumpers. (:eyeroll: Really, Lay? Because I know that was you.) We see some clips of this. We see AK Dong get to six points. He … maybe gets his seventh point? Anyway, he says in the last interview clip that he’s here. I guess we officially find out the Seven to Smoke results next ep?

Also next episode: Divided into two groups and battling by genre for the next elimination. Five rounds. Also looks like captains might get a chance to poach from other teams. Also some wacky fuckery with the dancers’ heads that looks like it’s going to be stomping all over my embarrassment squick, argh.

Finally, we get a peek at hotpot, and it sounds like they ended up with 70 dancers, so three people managed to get seven points in Seven to Smoke? And somebody’s mom is apparently coming to hotpot, but I’d have to watch the actual hotpot show to find out whose mom, and we’re out.

[dameferre]

can we see a snippet from the "penpals!" courferre one :0

of course! i will warn you this will. most likely never see the light of day BUT it’s based off of ‘the year of secret assignments’ by jaclyn moriarty, a... kind of ridiculous book i bought at a charity shop at like. age 10? or something

basically these three sets of teenagers are assigned pen pals at a neighboring school, and hijinks ensue, with one set of penpals giving each other secret assignments (hence the title), the other set of penpals being a girl who writes to a guy who uses a fake name (that plotline ends horribly, it would not have done so in my fic lmao)

one finally one set of penpals (a boy and a girl) decide to start having practice dates, so the guy can hone his skills and ask out a girl he likes, and the girl can critique his form, and... i mean i think we all know how this goes.

anyway, it’s half in letter format, half actual writing the story. here’s a snip! (under the cut because i. couldn’t help myself)

Official Assessment of the Second Meeting By Chance executed by The Lord of Flowers, Combeferre, henceforth referred to as the Subject, as reviewed by Courfeyrac the Ravishing, henceforth referred to as The Operative.

NOTES

When the Operative (and Guest) approached, the Subject smiled very nicely. It was a sort of surprised, warm smile that lit up his face. Did the Subject practice his ‘oh I was hoping to see you and I’m so glad I have’ smile in the mirror?

The Subject did a very good job of consoling the Guest, and as it turns out, the Subject’s height is not as offensive as previously thought, as he holds an umbrella perfectly.

The Subject was much more relaxed this time, and funny, and his hair fluffed a little in the humidity which was adorable. He had a great way of explaining things to the Operative without being patronising, and teased admirably. The Operative spent a good 80% of the walk laughing, but upon writing report can’t remember a specific instance of hilarity. The Subject should have more memorable jokes next time.

Overall, great work Combeferre. You’ll have Feuilly falling over himself to get to you in no time.

Yours,

Courfeyrac the Ravishing

--

Courfeyrac,

You seem to be losing your touch; that last review lacked the mildly insulting bluntness I’ve grown so accustomed to. Does this mean we’re becoming friends?

Anyway, I’m now, as you would say, ‘balls-deep in tech week’ and halfway through my descent into the deepest pit of hell. The entire production is an original script written by a friend of mine, named Jehan Prouvaire, who decided to rewrite the final scene this weekend. They’re my friend, have been for years, but even I wanted to murder them slowly. The cast is hard at work trying to learn the scene, while I had to stay late last night redoing all the cues.

The worst part of it is, the new ending is fucking fantastic, so we can’t even stay mad at them.

It’s exhausting. Literally exhausting; I got three hours of sleep last night.

Anyway, I’m writing this as a way of avoiding calculus homework. Not that I wouldn’t write to you if I didn’t have calculus homework, but it is harder to just ramble on about my life now that we’ve met in person. I don’t think I ever would have told you about Feuilly if we had met before we started writing. There was something in the anonymity that made it easier, like writing into a diary. I hope you don’t take this as an insult- what I mean to say is that now that I know you, I want you to like me. And by extension, I want you to know a lot less about exactly how lame I am.

Anyway, I wanted to say I won’t be able to make a meeting by chance this week, though I know telling you that ruins some of the fun. If I’m around next week, which is really looking less and less likely every time an actor misplaces a prop or mic pack and I am forced, once again, to weigh the pros and cons of murder, I’d be happy to accidentally run into you on my way home from school.

Side note- Avi(my brother) comes home next week, which lines up nicely with Mom’s birthday and means he’ll be able to see the show. It’ll be nice to have him back. I think you’d like him; he’s the attractive one in the family, and the extrovert. He’s also a mechanical engineer who medal-ed in track when he was my age. Basically, he got all the good genes, but he’s too nice to admit it.

Anyway, calculus beckons.

See you on the other side, Combeferre

p.s. Only you would practice a smile. Mine was genuine, I swear.

--

My Dearest Combeferre,

FIRST DAY OF PRACTICE STARTS TOMORROW HELL YEAH

I mean, yes, technically the other guys on my team have been practicing for two weeks but I have sadly been out of commission. BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY THE BITCH IS BACK

This will help distract me from the pain and yearning as I wait a whole week to see you again. I’ll be wistfully wandering the moors before Saturday, mark my words.

I’m also fascinated by the idea of a brother who’s you, but more attractive. Does it hurt to look at him directly? Do strangers fall in love on the spot? Is he officially considered a menace to society because he’s caused traffic accidents and ruined weddings by walking past at the wrong moment?

Someone should put a stop to him before things get out of control! No man should wield such power.

The idea that you, of gorgeous cheekbones, perfect hair, jawline, and eyes and face in general, notorious multi-tasker, valedictorian and walking encyclopedia, not to mention polyglot, could think someone else got the good genes means either you are humble to the point of actively lying to yourself or your brother is a minor deity.

Courfeyrac, I can hear you saying, flattery really isn’t necessary.

But it is! Enjolras, who I’ve mentioned before and is my best friend in the whole world, is gorgeous to the point of being inconvenient to look at. I’m a notorious flirt, I know this, and I’m good at it, but we’re not even in the same league when it comes to making people question their sexualities. He walks into a room and you can see half the people inside mentally decide they’re bi-curious. He’s also a raving lunatic and antagonistic asshole, which he openly accepts and takes pride in, but try to tell him he’s attractive and he looks at you like you’ve just suggested he’s got wings or a tail. So what I’m trying to say, I think, is that I’m used to people not realising how good looking they are. And bludgeoning them with compliments is my way of dealing with this.

Anyway. Getting sidetracked.

I’m flattered you use me as a method of procrastination! I’m gonna make myself a button that says ‘more interesting than calculus’ and wear it with pride. Also, is writing to pen pals not mandatory at the Academy? We’re given a half hour block during the study period. When we first started, Enjolras said the whole thing was “infantile and outdated and a waste of time”, but at this very moment he is on page six (6) of his latest aggressive correspondence to his mystery R, even though I saw what R sent him last time and it was, I shit you not, an envelope that was empty except for a tiny (approx. 3 centimeters long) rubber chicken. For context, the one before was a thorough analysis of wage inequality written entirely in pig latin.

I hope one day I meet this person, even if immediately afterwards they steal my kidney or turn me into a newt or whatever minor trickster gods do these days to pass the time when they’re not torturing my best friend.

Anyway, gotta go, stay sane, don’t kill anyone unless you really have to, and if so lemme know and I’ll help you get rid of the body. I know a guy.

Courfeyrac

p.s. I already like you, idiot.

[serenasoutherlyns]

Full of Surprises ch. 1-3

casey/alex, past alex/olivia. semi-au & fuzzy timeline, set post season 9. cross-posted from ao3 so the first three chapters are coming at ya all at once. TW for series-typical violence, SA, and discussions of mental illness. less graphic than the show. Fluff, romance, angst! First three chapters are totally SFW.

And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, an empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

1 .

This wasn’t where Alex would usually find herself. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Maybe it was now.

Emily had spent her evenings sat at a booth in the back of the local pub, watching and sketching. The books she’d filled, she kept them safely tucked in a box in the back of her closet, initialed “EC.” Alex couldn’t find it in her to draw much anymore.

Anne was alone more than not, spent long evenings reading philosophy, went running early mornings, yoga classes, taught herself guitar, filled hours on hours with ideas and exhaustion. Alex didn’t spend much time poring over The Republic these days, her guitar was long covered in dust.

In law school, her friends had a favorite table in the window of a little cafe, they would go from morning coffee to afternoon study to sharing bottles of red wine, coming and going as they pleased, debating with hopeful glimmers in their bright eyes. Late into the night, arm wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, listening to her classmates carry on, she’d watch the candles burn down. Sylvia had called her Lexi, whispered in her ear on night walks in the cold Cambridge air to their little apartment, gentle hands soothing her most anxious times. Alex hadn’t felt like that in years.

College weekends were spent at punk shows in basements, though she knows now nobody would believe it, young Alex Cabot (the nickname had been coined in those years, sharper edged than the elaborate Alexandra) knew how to have some fun, at least back then. She’d dyed her hair black and worn studs on her collar, had a reputation for being a player, and it seemed like the back of her right hand was constantly stained with marker residue. Sticky floors and lipgloss on her neck, so many firsts all at once.

Her evenings during her years in the DA’s office were usually full of work, except the odd night when she’d meet the detectives for a drink at their haunt or head out with the other ADAs to some upscale cocktail bar. Two different crowds with two different mentalities, the detectives were dedicated to a fault, while the prosecutors were insufferably full of themselves. The detectives would tire her out by 11:30, but she’d find an excuse to leave the ADA excursions before 9. Far more special were the many evenings spent in Olivia’s apartment drinking two beers each and filling the quiet air with soft laughter and conversation.

But a little library themed speakeasy? Not her typical place. Well. No time like the present to change one’s habits. She’d been recommended it by an old law school friend a couple weeks ago, bumped into him on a whim in a coffee shop, was surprised she wasn’t dead, had been there last night, said it was right up her alley. Its illicit vibe wasn’t exactly to ADA Cabot’s tastes, no. But it scratched something in Alex, that hadn’t been satisfied since those basement nights and cozy cafe afternoons. From the place’s shelves she’d pulled a book of Pre-Raphaelite poetry and sat in a comfy chair with a scotch and a San Pelligrino, pleased, at least, to be out of the apartment for the evening.

She didn’t need the money, but she’d been copyediting textbooks freelance, filling up her time with grammar and word choice. She’d been reading a lot of fiction. She adopted two extremely fluffy cats. It was a pleasant, if mundane, life. It turned out, Alex had realized, that there were plenty of eager and capable young attorneys who could do her former job as well as she ever had. She felt, finally, like she deserved a bit of a rest. Needed one, really. Someone would do the prosecuting. The thought of stepping back in the courtroom, looking at the bench, examining witnesses, made her feel sick to her stomach, though she had once loved that life. It wasn’t her anymore— maybe it never really had been. She decided this was her kind of place after all. This iteration of Alexandra Cabot would drink bubbly water in secluded speakeasies while reading poetry.

Alex didn’t expect to see anybody she knew, not somewhere you needed a password to get into, where the music was indie folk and old jazz from a vintage record player, the drinks had names like the “Lady Brett” and the “Daisy Buchanan,” and most of the patrons were dressed in flannel with their noses buried in old books. And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a half-empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

This was surprising. Alex, though she hadn’t ever known Casey well, before her first brief return to life as Alex Cabot, only as one of the white collar ADAs (they ran in a bit of a pack, didn’t shy away from imitating the lifestyles of those they prosecuted). After knowing her as a prosecutor, Alex would expect to see Casey in a sports bar watching a game, or in some chrome-gilded bar with high ceilings drinking designer cocktails and cheering on a verbal showdown between her colleagues. Or in the center of a showdown like that. Not alone, writing in a moleskine, wearing a red flannel over a simple black dress. Casey was striking, Alex realized, before she realized she’d been looking a little longer than was considered normal. She hoped she didn’t seem like a creep watching from afar. She considered getting up, saying hello, but felt that Casey may not even remember her, may not want to be disturbed as she wrote, may not even recognize her anymore. She’d changed her appearance when she’d gone back to being Alex Cabot, cut her hair in a short bob, dyed it dark brown, wore thick rimmed glasses and simple clothing, too painful to be the formal blonde she used to be. Barely the same woman who’s once-murderer Casey had put behind bars those years ago.

Alex didn’t have to consider talking to Casey, however, because almost as soon as she returned to her book, she heard the sound of rubber soled sneakers against the old hardwood floors and a voice beside her.

“Hey stranger,” she said.

“Hi Casey,” Alex said as she slid her bookmark into place and looked up at the familiar face with a smile. “Care to join me?”

2 .

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Casey said as she sat down. “I’m allowed to, uh, talk to you right? Though I guess if I wasn’t you wouldn’t acknowledge me, which would be fine, by the way.” There was the Casey Alex remembered, her words getting ahead of her.

“It’s fine, I’m me again,” Alex said calmly, “It’s really good to see you, though I wouldn’t have imagined you to be the writing type, or the underground-library-bar type” Alex gestured to the leather notebook in Casey’s left hand.

“I’m full of surprises, Alexandra Cabot.” Casey said in a tone that suggested she was sarcastic, yet convinced Alex she was telling the truth. Alex sipped her water.

“What were you working on?” She asked, not wanting to pry, but very eager to catch up, to know why she was alone in a place like this.

“Oh, nothing, nothing interesting. Just some little bits and pieces.” Casey replied.

“Not argument notes on a Saturday night, I hope?” Alex asked, though she knew that she would’ve done the same thing back when she was in the DA’s office. Casey looked pale, uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, trying to soothe any pain she may have caused, though she couldn’t fathom why. “I don’t mean to bring up work when you’re trying to relax.” At this, Casey just looked confused.

“Alex, have you not heard?” Casey said, searching for signs of recognition in the woman’s eyes, but finding only further confusion continuing, her voice low, “I was censured a few months ago. I can’t practice law for at least three years.” Alex’s eyes opened wide and she set her glass down on the table between them. “I’m surprised the rumor hasn’t reached your circles yet, though I admit I’m glad I get to be the one to tell someone for a change.” Alex noticed Casey cross her arms together over her chest, closing herself up, making herself seem smaller.

It was quiet for a while, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, quiet conversations, and pages turning filling it. “I’m sorry, no, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad. Do you want to talk about it?” Casey grinned at the suggestion, oddly intimate for the two women who, while they hardly knew each other, had shared some of the most intense moments either of them had experienced in a courtroom.

“I think I’ve gone over it enough in my head, but uh, thank you.” Casey said, her voice wobbling on the thanks, “You know, you’re the first person so far to actually ask me that?”

“I’m sorry.” Was Alex’s reply. Surely Casey had people who were interested in her feelings?

“The circumstances were,” Casey trailed off as she looked for the right wording, “I was at fault, for sure. But I was just trying to do the right thing, and I made a mistake.”

“Nothing shocking, I hope?” Asked Alex, still trying to ascertain the nature of the censure, wondering about what the woman sitting across from her could’ve done.

“I violated due process, technically.” Casey replied, attempting to gauge Alex’s reaction, but seeing that it continued to be contemplative rather than condemning, continued, “I shouldn’t’ve, but I think all of us have done worse in our time. But I was not in Donnelly’s good graces, so…” instead of ending her sentence, Casey sipped the last of her drink and looked up at Alex nervously, hoping the woman wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Oh man, Casey. That’s really tough. I’m sorry.” Casey searched for any sign of disapprobation in Alex’s tone, but finding only genuine concern, relaxed.

“So I’ve been doing other stuff for a little while. Using my undergrad,” she said, truly sarcastic this time. “What about you Cabot? What’s keeping you from your old haunt? And what’s with the brunette look?”

Alex wanted to answer, but wasn’t going to let Casey get away completely with deflecting. “You didn’t answer my question, Novak. What’s in the notebook?”

Casey laughed. “You really are relentless.” Alex just raised an eyebrow smugly while sipping her drink, as if to say, go on. “It’s a poetry journal. I’ve kept one since college.”

This admission broke the unflappable Alex Cabot’s reserve and she couldn’t keep herself from a few giggles. “I apologize,” she said, “for laughing at you. Just, the idea of Casey Novak the poet would not have occurred to me.”

“Like I said,” Casey started, “I’m full of surprises. And nobody has laughed at me in a long time,” she continued, beginning to laugh herself. “Believe it or not, I have an English degree.”

“Ok, ok, stop. I’m not sure I can take many more shocks tonight,” teased Alex.

“And you, didn’t answer my question. What’s with the brunette? You look beautiful,” Casey said before realizing what she was saying, shutting herself up before she said anything embarrassing.

“I needed a change,” Alex said, “Something to distance myself from my old selves. I never dyed my hair before, or switched up my look at all really. Just, a change.”

“I get that.” Casey said, and Alex felt like she really did get it, somehow more than anybody else had to this point. She’d seen a few old colleagues and friends, and they all had looked at her with this mixture of fear and pity that made her wish she was invisible. But Casey seemed to say something deeper in just three words.

They talked together late into the night, about books and drinks (Casey had been a bartender in college, her knowledge on pairings was unparalleled) and everything but law. It was close to 2:00 am when Casey started to yawn.

“I’m really glad I ran into you, Alex,” she said as they left the bar, her voice scratchy from talking quietly, a subtle accent that Alex couldn’t quite place showing through under the influence of sleepiness and her light buzz. It was adorable, Alex found herself thinking.

“Me too, Casey,” Alex replied, and before she could turn to start walking towards her apartment, only a block or so away, she was met with a hug. It was brief, but Alex took in the scent of Casey’s coconut shampoo, sweet and pleasing.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be much of a hugger either,” Alex said as she pulled away, brushing her hands on Casey’s elbows.

“I guess you have a lot to figure out,” she said, playfully, as Alex handed her into a cab.

As Alex walked up the stairs to her apartment (she could afford a bigger place, but this one, this one felt right), Alex replayed the evening and regretted not asking for Casey’s phone number before she left. When she pulled her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, she found a piece of paper, with a number and a note:

text me, so I can learn some of your surprises.

3 .

Alex was awake.

The same old dreams kept her restless. It had been a bad night, she’d slept less than 3 hours before she woke, startled, as the sun just began to rise, 5 am on a Saturday in September.

Foggily, she attempted to reconstruct the details of her pieced together dreams, her therapist, Julia, had convinced her to keep a journal. She said the nightmares of being shot, of nobody recognizing her, those made perfect sense, classic PTSD symptoms. With what happened to her it would’ve been stranger to not suffer it. But these hadn’t been those dreams.

Clare Cartwright, age 15 stood in line at the coffee shop. Her face was pink with tears but nobody saw anything out of the ordinary except for Alex, watching her from a table. Clare’s cheeks were wet and covered in running mascara but the barista didn’t bat an eye as she ordered an iced chai and sat down alone with her laptop. Tears turned to sobs turned to screams, thrashing, but she just kept typing, sipping her tea, nobody did a damn thing. Alex tried to rise from her seat, go to the girl, hold her and scratch her back while she cried, but the heavy weight of her own body kept her seated, powerless to do anything. She tried to yell across the room, tell her that it was going to be ok, she was going to put whoever hurt her behind bars, protect her from them forever. But when she opened her mouth all breath was sucked out of her lungs, she collapsed. Clare’s cries echoed ceaselessly.

Trevor Hamilton, a 20 something pro, had been turning tricks all night but one guy had taken it a little too far. He was sure his neck, hips would be covered in nasty bruises the next day. Oh well. Nobody believed a pro who cried rape. He stuffed his cash in his briefs and made his way towards the van he slept in with three other guys but before he could get there, he fell, body bloody. Nobody heard a sound but Trevor must have been shot. His blood was cold as it poured out of him onto the sidewalk but he stood up. He wasn’t dead. In the morgue, Melinda Warner ruled the cause of death a fatal gunshot wound to his back, probably a stray bullet, but he’d had sex the night he died, maybe an angry John. Alex told everyone that he wasn’t dead. Trevor whispered in her ear, asked her how could she let them say he was dead, how could she let them get away with saying such a thing like that, how could she let them call what had happened to him sex. Alex repeated herself over and over but all she got in return from the detectives were sympathetic looks of confusion as they sent her home for the day. She must’ve been too tired, Alex heard Olivia tell Elliot, maybe her mind was acting up again, sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis. Someone would check in on her that night, make sure she wasn’t relapsing. Alex knew she wasn’t hallucinating, because Trevor had spoken to her in the clearest voice she’d heard in months. Alex wept for Trevor the whole way home and then some but nobody seemed to notice.

Annabelle Lamm wore a fuzzy pink nightgown when her grandmother brought her into the precinct one snowy night. Olivia called Alex to come to the precinct, they needed a warrant for the apartment, they found fluids in the girl’s hair of all places, grandma handed them an envelope full of pictures of Annie that nobody in the family admitted to taking. It was a no brainer warrant, Alex didn’t even mind waking up a judge for it if it meant getting whoever had been hurting this little girl as soon as possible. When Alex arrived to the building, Olivia wasn’t there and all the lights were off. Alex clicked on a lamp, wondered if Liv had found another ADA and rushed off without telling her anything. But the room was unfamiliar, empty, concrete. In the center of the room standing perfectly still was a 5 year old girl in a pink fuzzy nightgown. Alex ran to her but couldn’t get any closer. The little girl had a hollow expression and didn’t move an inch. Alex kept running and running but her feet stayed in the same spot, powerless.

Yeah. Powerless. As she awoke she felt like she was still running, head still spinning, still heard screams.

She wrote it all down in her journal. Julia had said that it was unusual for people whose jobs involved consistently levels of high stress and disturbance to have the severity of symptoms she had; that there was usually a tolerance that was built up to being horrified. Alex had either never had that tolerance or it had been washed away during the years she’d spent in WITSEC because her very brief return to the practice of law had nearly broken her.

“Sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis,” Olivia had told her once when they first worked together, ostensibly referring to a case of statutory rape where the perp didn’t recall a single piece of the event; but Alex knew the comment was pointed at her, not the perp. Olivia could tell that Alex’s patience was growing thin, her mind unfocused; she must’ve deduced that Alex wasn’t sleeping much. But Alex already knew the warning signs.

Alexandra Cabot, age 16, sat shaking in a hospital room. It was almost finals week, she’d pulled a few all nighters, it was nothing serious, she’d told her school counselor a week prior when her friends had noticed her speech patterns growing muddled. She stayed up another 24 hours and the last thing she remembered was her roommates grabbing her wrists and pulling her inside off the balcony. After that, the school had installed locks on all the windows. Alexandra was freezing in her hospital gown, brain numbed out from the IV antipsychotics she was attached to. A few days in the hospital to take care of her injuries (she was informed that she had thrown herself against the wall while school officials took her to the ER), then a summer of residential treatment, hopefully she would be able to return to boarding school in the fall. Her father looked at her with a shattered expression, her mother treated her with cold indifference, her friends didn’t talk to her. Major depression with psychotic features.

Alex knew the consequences of not sleeping enough. She considered taking her cup of mint tea and heading back to bed, cuddling up to her cats, reading a book maybe, just trying to screw her head on right. Her body fought her though, nervous energy ran through her veins, so she elected to have a walk instead. Besides, it had been years since she’d had any serious episode. Anxiety, sure, and the occasional month or so of depression, a few close calls, but regular therapy and medication kept her more or less in the clear since college. Her family, her therapists, had suggested she go into a different kind of law, something stimulating but less distressing like, intellectual property, but she had refused, felt called to prosecuting. But her experience was what made her a great prosecutor, and it was why she had been so adamant about the proper handling of cases involving those suffering from mental illness, especially victims, but perps as well. She knew how it felt, more than she admitted to almost anybody, but she also knew there were paths through it.

The same old nightmares, but Alex was a different person. The old Alex would’ve thrown herself even harder into work than usual, won her cases even more viciously, assuaged her feelings of powerlessness by asserting control. This Alex knew that complete control was unattainable.

The September air was cold this early in the morning, but bracing. The contrast between her thermos full of hot tea pleased her, she pretended she was a dragon as she breathed steam. She smiled to herself at the thought and at the bright orange sun rising through the treetops in the park by her apartment. This had been the right choice, sunrises were her favorite magic. Content covered her like a well fitting dress, shaking off the nerves slowly. The most dedicated joggers and newsstand operators were the only other people out this early, the quietest time in the city. Alex’s phone buzzed.

Casey: Nice coat, Cabot.

Alex looked up from her phone, confused. What? Maybe it was delivered late. She’d seen Casey two days ago for coffee— they’d developed a friendship. Texts, coffee, nothing too deep; but then it had only been a couple weeks since they’d run into each other at the library bar. Alex liked Casey. She was funny and a good listener, and she always had something to say. She didn’t walk on eggshells around Alex either, making Casey unique among her friends. She’d tried to meet up with Liv right when she’d gotten back to the city the second time, but the way she looked at her cut way too deep, like she was a hero, like she was a victim. Both of those she may well be, but she needed to be treated as a friend. Casey did that for her, down to playfully teasing her over her eccentric habits. Another text:

Casey: Turn around, Clueless.

Not many people had ever called Alexandra Cabot clueless. Alex turned around, and Casey waved at her excitedly from the jogging path and without waiting for Alex’s reaction began to run up to where she was sitting. Alex was surprised to see her, happily so. She knew Casey was athletic, but didn’t take her to be the 5:30 running type. She wore tight leggings and a running jacket, and the biggest smile Alex had seen from her. She looked beautiful in the soft early light, Alex thought, then immediately blushed at that thought.

She’d never been one to shy away from her sexuality, especially when she realized the destructive role repression had played in her life before she came out. Alex had been out since college, but she tried very hard not to crush on straight women. She knew she couldn’t control who she was attracted to, but it always made her feel a bit dejected, so. Nip that in the bud.

Alex didn’t have much time to consider the ethics of her thoughts, because Casey was right in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“It’s so good to see you! A second surprise encounter, must be fate, Cabot,” Casey said in a quiet voice, a wink in her words.

“Something like that,” Alex replied, “What are you doing out so early?”

“I could ask the same of you; I’m just finishing up my run. You are wearing a fancy coat and looking deep in thought, in fact, you are being far more suspicious than I am, look at how many people are out here jogging, I mean,”

“Oh my god,” Alex cut her off with an eye roll, “Ok, stop cross-examining me.”

Casey gave Alex a genuine laugh, “Old habits die hard.” She paused for a second. “You look pale, did you sleep?”

“Thanks, Casey.” Alex gave her a playful glare. “If three nightmares in three hours counts, then yes, I slept.”

“Oh you poor thing. I’d hug you but,” She gestured to her sweaty figure. “You wanna get breakfast? I’ll pop back to my apartment, shower, and meet you at yours in say, half an hour?”

Alex started slightly at the familiarity, but responded, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Uh, here I’ll text you my address.”

Did Casey blush? Alex couldn’t be sure due to her post-run glow and the chill in the air. “Sorry if that’s too familiar, I know we usually plan these things out, and I guess I just assumed you didn’t have plans, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, you know, runner’s high and all,” but Alex cut her off again with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Are you retracting the offer, Novak?” Alex couldn’t resist the urge to tease the woman in front of her. “Because if I recall correctly, I said yes.”

Casey grew more flustered, replied with a quick, “Nope, still happening, see you in half an hour,” and took off running, leaving Alex behind as she laughed in disbelief.

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 14

Goodbye, NYC

SUMMARY: The group leaves for Cordonia

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: Mention of character death

A/N: i am soooo sorry that i haven’t updated as regularly, i’ve been pretty drained this past week but hopefully it won’t happen again. & also i just wanted to give my thanks to each and every one of you for all the comments, likes, & reblogs. it means more than you all could know <3

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I've also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt's "The Goldfinch")*

Catch up here!

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✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Eleanor - 

Today was our last day of school since we were all leaving for Cordonia tomorrow. When Rowan dropped us off, she told us that it was okay to feel sad about leaving. That made me think I was going to tear up when I would have to say goodbye to all my friends, but surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult, considering that I knew I would never see these people again in my life.

When Rowan picked us back up, I decided to ask Gabe how his day had gone. Ever since that dinner with Mama and Liam, he had been distant. And honestly, that upset me.

All of the adults had were occupied lately, helping Mama get to her appointments and trying to make her feel better. Grandma and Rowan had been helping us pack, and Rowan was always busy trying to make sure that Grandma didn't change her mind about us going with Liam. So since everyone else had something to do, I only had Gabe to spend the day with, and now that Gabe was distancing himself from me, I was technically alone.

Rowan opens up the door to our penthouse, telling us to go inside. She said that she would be back in a couple of hours and had to go home and pack (since Grandma decided that the only way she was going to let us go was if Rowan came with us). I closed the door and turned to tell Gabe about my day, but he had disappeared.

I walked into the living room, finding it empty. I heard voices from the dining room, but I didn't feel like talking to Liam's friends at the moment, so I go towards our bedrooms, leaving my backpack next to the couch.

Once I reach Gabe's door, I knock. I hear him cough from the other side, so I try to open the door, but the handle doesn't turn.

"Gaaaaabbbeee!" I call to him. "Please don't lock yourself in your room again!"

"Go away!" he shouts at me. "Leave me alone! And stop being annoying!"

I shake the door handle a few more times, to which Gabe responds, "Stop it! Don't break my door!"

"I won't break it if you open it!" I call back.

"No!"

I feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes. If Gabe wasn't going to talk to me, who was? Everyone else in the house was busy. And all I wanted was to talk about my day at school.

I look around me at the empty hallway and suddenly feel so alone. I feel empty, but at the same time, I feel like there are so many emotions inside of me that I was going to burst.

So... if Gabe wasn't going to talk to me, and I had said goodbye to all of my friends in school today... did that mean that I really had no companions to speak with anymore?

I feel so far away from everyone else. I couldn't go into the dining room with everyone because I didn't belong there (and they probably didn't want a crying baby to ruin the mood), and I couldn't go to Gabe either because he didn't want me near him.

I had never really felt lonely before. Friendly people always surrounded me, and there was still a shoulder for me to cry on. Now there was no one and nothing.

If I felt like this at home in New York... then would I feel worse in Cordonia? Where I didn't know what the houses or apartments looked like, how the other kids acted, how their subways worked?

Suddenly I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted the loneliness to go instead of me. Why did Gabe want me to be alone? Weren't we supposed to be in this together?

I ball my fists and start pounding on Gabe's door, and eventually start crying, too. The tears blur my vision, and I couldn't even see the outline of the door, but as long as my hand hurt a little when it made contact with whatever was in front of me, I took that as a good sign.

I was about to start kicking the door, but a pair of large, soft hands grab my arms and pin them to my sides. The person turns me towards them, and I come face-to-face with Liam. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and the corners of his mouth tilt downwards in concern.

I stop crying for a moment, allowing the remaining tears in my eyes to fall so that I could fully see Liam.

Daddy used to make the same expression that was on Liam's face, and for half a second, I actually see my father instead of Liam. Even though Liam's hair was blond and his eyes are blue, while Daddy's hair was dark brown, and his green eyes were always on the other side of a pair of glasses — their expressions are frighteningly similar. I have to stop myself from referring to Liam as my father.

And that took a lot of energy. I take a shaky breath to stop the words from escaping, and when I see Daddy again after Liam's eyes twitch, I bury my face in Liam's neck and continue crying.

"Oh, Ella, it's alright." He wraps his arms around me, which is so comforting that I start crying even harder. I missed having someone envelop me such safe hugs. Liam rubs a hand along my back. "It's alright. You're alright, I'm here."

I hear the click of a lock and know that Gabriel has opened his door. I can't see him, but I feel Liam's neck crane upward to look at Gabe.

"Sorry, Ella," my brother says. "I didn't realize you were outside."

"You're lying," I mumble into Liam's neck.

Liam sighs but keeps me in his arms until my crying subsides. I hear Gabe retreat into his room again. Liam pats my back, and I remove myself from his embrace to follow my brother into his room, wiping my tears on my sleeve, my bout of angry sadness over.

Gabe is on his bed, playing with his Nintendo Switch. I can't tell what game he's playing, but I hear the animated characters' grunts and catchphrases. Looking around his room, I see that the shelves along the walls of the room are half empty. There were open suitcases in front of his closet, which still had a few clothes that needed to be packed. (Thankfully, Grandma had already helped me pack all of my things, so I didn't have to worry about my own clothes).

I look at Gabe, wondering if he would talk to me now. Understanding that he wasn't going to glance up from his game, I'm about to ask him if I can use his PlayStation before he puts it away, but Liam speaks up.

"I know it must be difficult for both of you—" he stares at Gabe, trying to get his attention, "—having to leave your home and everything you know to start living in a foreign country. It's not going to be the same there as it is for you here." His shoulders are tense, and he pulls his hand behind his back. Liam seems uncomfortable, and it's not a good look for him. "You will also spend a lot of time under public attention, and that may be difficult to adjust to. I want you both to know that if there's anything you need, I'll always be there to help you through it."

"Yeah, you said that already," Gabe mumbles, still playing his game.

Liam's face falls. He opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. Liam turns to look at me, and I smile at him.

He hesitates for another moment before saying, "How was school today, Eleanor?"

"It was nice!" I tell him, suddenly giddy with excitement, remembering all the events of the day. "My teacher told the gym teacher that today was my last day, and so the gym teacher brought out these scooters that we had to sit on, and we played football on the scooters! And then look!" I hold out my finger to him, and he cups my hand in his to bring it closer to his face. "My team was about to win, and I had the ball, but then this girl from the other team, Veronica, who doesn't like me, made her scooter go over my finger and then my nail broke a little bit and started bleeding a little and then I had to go to the nurse, and the nurse gave me a lollipop! I would give it to you, but I ate it already. Sorry."

He looks back at my face, gently running his thumb over my bandaged finger. One corner of Liam's mouth lifts, and he says, "That's alright. It seems like you had an exciting day. Did Veronica get in trouble?"

"Nuh-uh," I exclaim, shaking my head. "She rolled away. And then when I came back from the nurse, everyone was waiting because we had to go back to our class and when we got there the teacher gave us pizza and tiny cupcakes! But then I had to say goodbye to everyone, and it was sad."

He kneels down on one knee so that our faces are at the same level. "Well, I know it must be upsetting to say goodbye to your friends, but I'm sure you'll make new ones in Cordonia."

I shrug, not really believing him.

"Oh, don't be like that. I know many children in court that would love to be your friend!"

"Like who?" I ask him.

"Well..." he looks away, deep in thought. "How about Bartie?"

"Bartie never wants to do anything!" I tell him.

"And all he does," Gabe speaks up, finally putting his game down, "is walk around saying, 'I mustn't, Your Highness. No, thank you, Your Highness.' He's so boring. And why does he call me that? My name is Gabriel."

I notice that Gabe put his Switch on the bed, so I run for it and start trying to play the game.

Liam stands and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. "Since we are going to announce to the public that you are my son, you will be anointed as my heir and will be the Crown Prince. Whenever someone speaks to you, they will refer to you as 'Your Highness.'"

"Why?" Gabe asks. He leans into my side, trying to see what I'm doing in the game. I make my character, a really buff dude with a red headband, jump around other characters who are chasing him.

"That's how it works," Liam states. "They refer to their king and queen as 'Your Majesty,' whose Latin root word is 'greatness.' They call the prince or princesses 'Your Highness,' because of their high status. Bartie is accustomed to a life of formality, so it's natural for him."

"So...," Gabe turns to Liam, "they call you 'Your Majesty' because you're the king, right?"

"Nuh-uh!" I exclaim. Liam chuckles, and when I turn to look at him and laugh along, the Nintendo Switch vibrates, and a man's voice from the game screams 'GAME OVER!'

Gabe takes the device from my hands and starts another game. Liam points at Gabe's suitcases. "Do you need any help packing the rest of your things?"

"Nah, I'm good. Grandma said she'd give me a hand with everything that's left," Gabe responds. As an afterthought, he adds, "Thank you, though."

Liam gives a small nod. "Well, then... I wanted to let you both know that I am leaving for Cordonia today."

Gabriel looks up. "I thought we were all leaving together?"

"Yes, but since the press doesn't know that you're my son, we have to be discreet and enter the country at different times to make sure news or rumors don't get out before we're ready to give an announcement."

"So when are we going to see you?" I ask.

"A few days after you settle in with the Beaumonts, I'll come to see how you are all doing, and I'll bring you back to the capital for the social season."

"That's the thing you were asking Mama about?" I question.

He gives a small smile. "Yes, your mother has gone through the social season before."

Bastien interrupts our little conversation by knocking on the door. "Your Majesty," he says. "The jet should be ready now. Shall we depart?"

"Yes, thank you for alerting me, Bastien." Liam stands and turns back to us. "I'll see you two very soon."

"Okay!" I exclaim, getting off of the bed to give Liam a hug.

He puts a hand on my head, and when I back away, he tells me, "If there are any mean Veronicas in Cordonia, promise you'll tell me if they bother you?"

I laugh a little and then promise.

When we part, I see Gabe and Liam stare at each other awkwardly, but neither of them makes a move. After a few moments, Gabriel lifts his hand in farewell. Liam smiles and nods, and then leaves.

For a few more minutes, I watch Gabe play, waiting for him to give me a turn. Before he gets a chance to start the game again and give it to me, we hear his phone vibrating from the inside of his backpack. When he crosses the room to take it out, before answering it, he tells me, "It's Uncle Boris!"

Uncle Boris was Daddy's college friend, and also our Godfather. We hadn't seen him in a while. He was traveling around Europe for business and to spend time with his wife and kids. We were actually supposed to visit him a couple weeks ago, but because of the bombing, we couldn't.

Gabe answers the phone and puts it on speakerphone. We both huddle in front of it and a nostalgic joy vibrates in my heart when I hear Uncle Boris' thick Russian accent call out, "Hello, zayats!"

We giggle at the nickname that hasn't worn off since Gabe lost his front teeth (when they came back in, Uncle Boris had commented that he looked like a little rabbit), and then in union we say, "Hi, Uncle Boris!"

"Rowan tells me today was last day of school for you two?" he asks us in his broken English.

"Yeah," Gabe answers. "We're leaving for Cordonia."

"Cordonia, eh?" (He pronounces it 'CARdonia'). "That is not an hour's flight from where I am!"

"Really?" I ask. "Are you going to visit us? Can you please visit us?"  

"If your Mama allows, then yes, I visit. But what you children go to Cordonia for?"

"Because apparently Liam is Gabe's dad that Mama never told us about," I ramble, "and since Daddy's not here anymore and Mama doesn't have a lot of her memory, we have to go with him and his friends."

"Liam?" Uncle Boris questions. "Liam, who?"

"Uh." Gabe frowns. "I don't know his last name. But he says he's a king."

"Which is fake!" I blurt out. "I bet he's lying about it."

"Ah!" Uncle Boris exclaims. "King Liam! Yes, yes, your mother tell me and Potter about him." (Uncle Boris has always called Daddy 'Potter' because Daddy's glasses used to remind Uncle Boris of Harry Potter). "What he wants?"

"He's bringing us to Cordonia with him," Gabe states.

"Pfft. Nonsense king. Bringing small child to foreign country to keep stupid monarchy alive. You know why countries have no more monarchy? Take Russia as example—."

He continues rambling, and I genuinely think he doesn't remember he's talking to us. Gabe looks up at me and whispers, "I think he's drunk!" He coughs loudly into his elbow, and the vibration I hear from the back of his throat tells me the cough was genuine. But Uncle Boris doesn't seem to notice and keeps talking.

I cover my mouth and giggle. There's another knock on the door, and we turn to see Rowan, followed by Maxwell.

"What's up, baby blossoms?" Maxwell calls to us.

In a loud whisper, Gabe responds, "Talking to Uncle Boris!"

"It's okay," Rowan says, grabbing the phone and taking it off of speakerphone. "I've got this. There's food for you guys if you want something to eat?"

"C'mon, blossoms!" Maxwell exclaims, leading us towards the dining room. "Are you guys excited to get to Cordonia tomorrow?"

We shrug and nod, trying our best to seem somewhat enthusiastic.

"Aw, don't worry. I'm sure you'll love it when you finally get there. Your mom came to adore it after just spending a short time there." He pauses for a moment, then lowers his voice before continuing, and I don't think Gabe and I are meant to hear what he said when he goes, "That's why it was so much of a surprise when she left."

Gabe and I share a worried glance. In the short time that we had known Maxwell, he was always cheerful. But his last sentence was carried out with a heavy voice. "At least it's good that she's finally going back?" Gabe states, accidentally making it sound like a question.

Maxwell looks down at him, patting Gabe's head. "It sure is, baby blossom. It sure is."

- Drake -

The day after Liam left, the Beaumonts, Drake, Rowan, Riley, and her kids were all in the airport waiting for the pilot to get ready. Liam had told Drake before leaving that he thought it would be best if he went back home with the Beaumonts so he could help Riley and the kids settle in. Drake wanted to tell him that he already decided that, but he believed that it would be best not to agitate Liam, who was already stressed.

When it was time to finally get on the jet, Drake tells Maxwell to grab Riley's crutches before she can reach them. Drake then offers to carry Riley in his arms to help her board the plane.

She blushes and argues that she can do it herself, but then accepts after Drake persists. Her kids follow closely behind, not taking their eyes off of their mother.

Inside, he puts her down and takes the seat right next to her, while the kids take the seats in front of them. While everyone else settles in, Drake notices Riley moving around.

"You good, Brooks?" he asks her.

"Yeah," she says. "My leg's making me a bit uncomfortable, though."

"The doctor said that you had to keep it elevated. Here." Drake gently grabs her injured leg and sets it down on his knee. "That better?"

"Yeah, thanks." She smiles at him.

For the rest of the plane ride, Riley goes in and out of naps, resting her head on Drake's shoulder. The children talk with Rowan and Maxwell, who seem to be getting friendly with one another. Bartie stares out of the window for the most part but does his best to include himself in conversations with Gabriel and Eleanor. Savannah and Bertrand murmur amongst themselves, and occasionally Bertrand stands to make sure that Riley's doing alright.

Drake sits silently, glancing at Riley while she slept, doing his best not to remind himself of the first time he and Maxwell had brought her to Cordonia.

He promised himself that he would do everything that he could to make sure there would be no repeat of the social season or the Engagement Tour.

I'll be damned if I let the court ruin Riley and her kids, he thinks to himself.

Drake watches Maxwell teach Gabriel and Eleanor a game he just created. When he glances out the window, Drake takes a moment to stare at the expanse of water that had separated him from Riley for so long. He checks the time, trying to estimate when they would be able to view Cordonia out the window, hoping to wake Riley to let her see the shore. He hated that she still didn't remember any of them; there were still so many questions they needed to ask her.

He stares down at her sleeping face, and for a moment, his heart aches for everything that she's gone through. There's a sense of guilt that vibrates within him, for everything that he did and didn't do. And there's also... reluctance. He's almost scared to bring her back, to bring happiness back. They had all spent so much time in a deep hole of 'if only' that leaving the hole felt unnatural. Eventually though, that all fades away as Drake drifts into sleep, Riley's peaceful features having allured him.

- Bastien -

Due to unpredictable weather the night before, King Liam's jet was unable to take flight for Cordonia when he had wished it to. The delay lasted for hours, and King Liam's aircraft was finally in the air only an hour before the Beaumont's plane was predicted to take off. Liam told Bastien it would be best not to tell the Beaumont's about his delay, seeing that they still had to give off the illusion that everyone was arriving from a different place, but Bastien saw the reluctance in his king's eyes; the man wanted to go with them, but couldn’t.

As King Liam's jet lands in the capital, Bastien sends a radio message to the rest of the King's Guard to keep away paparazzi and to make sure there was no threat in any surrounding areas. Near the entrance of the airport, there's a limo waiting for the king. Bastien opens the door for Liam, then goes to sit in the front.

He sends out another message to the guards still in the palace, alerting them that the king was returning, and reminding them to report anything pressing. Bastien receives messages stating that there was nothing eventful going on, except small preparations for the social season. Bastien breathes out, glad that his king would not have more to bother him.

When they reach the palace, Bastien jumps out of the car and follows King Liam, who is already through the entrance.

There's noise on the other end of his earpiece, and Bastien is about to ignore it and shut it off before a female guard's voice states, "Alert His Majesty that he has someone waiting to speak to him."

Bastien doesn't say anything back into the radio, since King Liam was walking right beside him. Before Bastien can tell his king the news, the woman's voice sounds again.

"Bas, can you hear me? Prince Leo wants His Majesty to know that he's waiting to talk to him. He says it's important."

[yastaghr]

Nightmare’s Gang of Wranglers 3

Summary: The first ride and the first camp are achieved. The fire brings out something new in everyone.

Link: The first ride and the first camp are achieved. The fire brings out something new in everyone.

The first ride of the trip was always the most problematic. This trip was no exception. Nightmare had sighed when Ink had lost his stirrups the first time. The next three times had been annoying. After that it had ceased to be annoying and started to become funny. Rustle wasn’t going to let him fall, and it wasn’t like Nightmare himself hadn’t ridden without stirrups before. Just so long as he kept his heels down Nightmare would be happy.

But that was just the start of the problems. Dream was turning out to be just as annoying as he knew he’d be, but for an entirely different problem. That problem had a name. His name was Cross. Cross, apparently, hadn’t taken enough heed of all the stories Nightmare had shared with his gang about Dream. Cross was too thirsty for that. He was taking full advantage of his position behind Dream to watch his ass. Yes, he said it was because he wanted to be sure of the other’s seat, but Nightmare knew better. One, he knew that Dream’s seat was impeccable, and two, he could see the purple blush on Cross’ cheeks. He was just lucky that Dream didn’t notice. He would only pay for ogling a client, not for trying to go behind Killer’s and Nightmare’s backs.

The next problem was Dust. It was always like this; as soon as he thought Nightmare had gone out of his hearing range he started talking to his brother. Nightmare sighed. Blue didn’t seem too disturbed, but that couldn’t be said of his pony. Berry hadn’t ridden near Dust recently, so the gelding must have forgotten about his chattering. His ears were constantly swiveled back, but Blue seemed to be handling him well. His seat was good and his hands were soft even as he maintained control over the horse. That made Nightmare feel better about letting him stay there.

The last problem, and one that Nightmare had been predicting, was Ink’s paints. Their sloshing around was scaring the pack train. Blood and Sugar eventually had the whole line stop so they could redistribute the load. That seemed to calm down the mules, but Cherry was being his usual spooky self. That was okay. They were used to Cherry’s spookiness.

Nightmare was impressed when they made the first stopping place in reasonable time. He had allowed for much more malarky than actually occurred. Unfortunately it looked like they needed that time. The camp was in shambles. If Nightmare had to guess he would have said that a herd of elk had bedded down there recently. The trees were still leaking sap, the grass was laid flat by the weight of those sleeping bodies, and the tents that were the sleeping areas were torn to the ground. Nightmare sighed. It would take at least an hour to fix everything.

His crew immediately ground tied their horses and got to work. Dust and Blood saw to the grass, fluffing it up so that the horses could actually eat. Cross set to gathering firewood and wiping down the trees. Sugar looked after the pack train. Error used his strings to fix the tents, and Killer helped Ink to dismount. Dream and Blue had gotten down and were looking around.

“How can we help, brother?” Dream said instantly, Blue right beside him. Nightmare blinked his one eye at him. He hadn’t expected them to want to help.

“Why don’t you… help Sugar unload the food for tonight?” He eventually said. He still didn’t trust his brother, not after what he had done, but he knew that unpacking the mules would be very hard to mess up.

Dream and Blue nodded, ground tied their horses, and walked calmly over to Sugar. Good. They at least knew better than to spook the horses.

=====

Killer’s soft voice interrupted his focus on his brother. “Somebody’s got a crush, huh?”

Nightmare spun to face him. Killer had his signature grin on his face, and his soul was beating at a speed Nightmare recognized as happy. Nightmare relaxed slightly and said, “I didn’t realise Cross was being so obvious. He’s been ogling Dream’s ass this entire time.”

Killer chuckled. Nightmare didn’t see what was so funny. “Yeah, Cross. The big guy’s always had a soft spot for people who dote on the horses.”

Nightmare tilted his head. He didn’t particularly remember Cross being like that in the past, but Killer was miles away more observant than he was. That was why Nightmare trusted him to be his second in command. He was a general; Killer was his chief of intelligence. Neither of them could operate without the other. And they both needed Cross to keep the peace between them and guard against the dangers of the road.

“Well, he’d better be prepared to meet the consequences of his actions. Dream is a client, and he is definitely not a part of our relationship. What would you say would be an appropriate punishment? 15 lashes?”

Killer grinned. If there was ever a monster who was the definition of a sadist, it was Killer.  “Oh, at least. I’d say we edge him a few times, too.”

Nightmare shook his head. He had the final say in this, and he thought that that was going a bit too far. “It’s only been a few hours, Killer. If he continues this behaviour tomorrow, then we can think about edging him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Killer said, saluting. Then he wandered off to begin unsaddling the horses for the night and getting everything ready for supper.

=====

Blue was fascinated by the fire. He could vaguely hear the rest of the Star Sanses and Nightmare’s Gang moving around, setting up things for the night, cooking food on the other side of the fire, and, in Ink’s case, chattering away. None of that really mattered to him right now, though. His whole attention was consumed by the fire.

It had been so long since he had seen an untamed fire like this. When he was younger he saw them every weekend while his Dad was still alright and well. Then, after his accident, Blue had seen them every night as he struggled to raise a child all on his own. Then Stretch had grown up enough to say he hated the smell of smoke and that was that. Blue hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now.

Blue’s hypnotized state ended when one of Nightmare’s Gang sat next to him and passed him a cup. Blue looked into it. It seemed to have… ketchup?

“Here, drink it. I’ve never met a Sans who didn’t like a condiment, and you’re pretty cute, so enjoy,” The stranger said. His voice was deeper than Blue would have pictured, deeper and hoarser. Blue would have predicted the hoarseness after all of the talking this monster had done today.

Blue honestly wasn’t sure who the monster behind him had been talking to, but he couldn’t judge. One of his best friends still hadn’t stopped talking. Ink would have been hoarse had he been a normal monster. He wasn’t.  It wasn’t that he was crazy. Ink was the kind of anomaly that rules had to be built around. So was the dark boned skeleton Blue recognized from a few years ago. Now if only Blue knew his n-

“What’s your name, anyway? I’m Sans, obviously, but most people call me Dust. Not my brother, though. He still calls me Sans,” Dust said with a grin, his mismatched eye lights shining bright. The concentric rings of red and purple were almost as fascinating as the fire.

“I’m Blue,” he said, startled, “Technically it’s Dr. Blue, but I don’t actually practice at the moment, so most people call me Blue. My brother calls me Sans, though, too.”

The wide smile that shone from Dust’s skull was dazzling. Blue’s eye lights widened as he took it in. Wow, Dust was cute. A blush spread across Blue’s maxilla, along with a hesitant smile. Maybe he could do something about that? Stretch wouldn’t be happy, but he already wasn’t happy about this little trip. What would be the harm in having a little fun?

“Well, Dr. Blue, I’d love to have you examine me sometime,” Dust said, waggling his brow bones.

Oh, that was flirting! Blue knew what to do with flirting. He batted his eyelids back at Dust and leaned in. “Oh, I’d be happy to. I’m sure you have some pieces of your anatomy that can fascinate me for hours. I might even have one or two suggestions that would make your life more… pleasurable! Mweh heh heh heh!”

=====

Ink overheard his friend laughing and grinned from ear to ear. “Yay, Blue! I’m glad he’s feeling good enough to laugh. He’s always so stuffy! That was one of the reasons we took this trip; to make Blue relax a bit! He-”

“Stars, do you ever shut up?” Error growled. He was securing the last string to the ground with some kind of spike. Ink didn’t know the names of any of this stuff, and he barely knew Error’s name. As far as he was aware he had never left the city before. Then again, his memory was absolutely horrible. Not as bad as Blue’s dad’s, but still objectively horrible. Good thing he wasn’t objective!

“Nope!” Ink said, popping the p. “I don’t like it when things are quiet at all! It’s super scary and makes me feel isolated and alone in a place where no one can rescue me. The same thing happens if I see too much of the color white! It’s kind of a trigger, so I fill up the silence with as much noise as I can and make lots of art! I’m constantly repainting the walls of my apartment, and I always have some music playing at home.”

Error was giving Ink the funniest look. It was almost… sympathetic? Curiosity sparked in Ink’s mind. Why would anyone relate to an experience like that? Ink was about to ask when Error spoke up. “That’s stupid. You’ve got actual friends, idiot. They’re not going to abandon you.”

Ink nodded. “I know that, but that’s not how triggers work. Triggers are totally illogical. They’re weird little psychological phenomena that we don’t fully understand. A trigger can be anything from the smell of lilacs, to the taste of chemo medicine, to the feeling of tulle between your toes, to the sight of a specific crack on the ceiling of your house, to-”

“The sound of door locks? Those ones with a full bar you lock into place with a key?” Error asked suddenly.

Ink took in the sight of him. Error looked haunted. Interesting. Ink’s curiosity made him a promise: he would find out everything about Error and his past that he could to satisfy his own curiosity. If he was going to do that, however, he needed to win Error’s trust.

“Yeah! That’s definitely something that could be a trigger,” Ink said, then he went on, “and it’s not like you’d have to know why it was a trigger, either. Sometimes we just have something that’s triggering to us without any explanation. Dream is that way about moles. The little furry animal, I mean. Totally sends him into a panic attack whenever they show up in a nature documentary we’re watching. Blue now likes to pre-screen any movies we’re going to see, just in case. Actually, he pre-screens them for a lot of things. Useless sex scenes, for one.”

Error snorted. Ink blinked at him, feeling an unfamiliar paint combination roll over him. He couldn’t have put a name to it, but there were bits of yellow, pink, and green in there. Yellow was happiness of all sorts, pink was affection or love, and green was the need for something. It could be the need for information, or food, or a plan, or… anything, really.

“Don’t,” Error snorted, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sex purists who thinks you should only have sex after marriage. That’s so stupid.”

Ink laughed his own unique laugh that couldn’t decide between being a chuckle and a giggle. “No, I just think that those stupid sex scenes take away from the body of the story. Sometimes they’re good, but mostly they’re just put in for horny fans. They don’t even make any sense. People just don’t hop into bed with perfect strangers at the drop of the hat. At least, not any sane people. Not that sanity’s earned its good ratings, mind you.”

“Well that’s true,” Error agreed with distaste. “Sex shouldn’t be some kind of spectacle for anyone to see. I know I wouldn’t want anyone but my lover or lovers to see me like that. I might be the most handsome skeleton in existence, but that doesn’t mean I want to show myself off.”

It was Ink’s turn to snort. “You? Handsome? Your bones are black, Error. Don’t you know that the darker your bones are the less handsome of a skeleton you are?”

Error’s grin was absolutely crazy, and Ink couldn’t help but mirror it. It looked like so much fun! “That’s what they want you to think! After all, so many people are cursed with white bones. They had to come up with some way to boost everyone’s egos. Telling them that white bones are best is a good PR spin! I bet even you believe it about your own bones!”

Ink blinked at him, then slipped out of his overshirt and bared his bones. They were covered in patterns, almost random, that had more black to them than white. “It’s not like my bones are all white, though. I guess that means that, by your definition, I’m ugly, too! Oh well.”

Error’s larger eye light was now almost as wide as his socket. The other one, the grey one, had wandered off. Ink wondered if he could even see out of that eye or if he just had lazy eye. Either way it was disconcerting. “Well… you’re not that ugly. You’re less ugly than all those bleached-boned idiots in the movies. After all, you have some black on there. And the contrast looks… kind of nice, if a bit blurry. D’ya mind taking a step back?”

“Why?” Ink asked, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s none of your business why, chatterbox!” Error screeched, “Just do it!”

Ink sighed. He’d been doing so well with winning Error over, but nothing worth doing was worth doing too fast. He stepped back a few paces. “Alright, Error. Is this good?”

Error was too busy studying Ink’s patterns to answer. Ink studied his expression, committing it to memory. It was so… fascinating… the way he was staring at Ink. The play of light on the black bone of his skull was so enchanting, and the lines of his mouth were inviting in a way Ink couldn’t place. He longed to sketch it. Maybe later, after dinner, although the fire wouldn’t be  the ideal light source. Needs must, though!

=====

Killer grinned as everyone took up their positions around the fire. The small blue skeleton and Dust were already seated, flirting with each other like there was no tomorrow. The artist and Error were arguing, but it involved more words out of Error than Killer had heard the entire time he’d been working for them. Blood and Sugar were sitting as far apart as they could stand, cooking the food and shooting each other longing glances. Cross was sitting at attention next to Dream and shooting him the most adoring looks. Dream seemed just about as oblivious as Nightmare could be. He was staring into space, zoning out. That left Killer to work on Nightmare. Perfect.

“Hey, Boss~” Killer purred as he slid in next to Nightmare, taking one of his tentacles into his hands and slowly massaging it. It was tense as hell. It was pretty obvious who was causing their leader so much stress. His eye light was fixed on Dream like it had been nailed in place.

“Yes, Killer?” Nightmare said distractedly, his eye light not leaving Dream, “What is it?”

Killer brought the tentacle up to his teeth, kissing it. “The tension in your aura is palpable, Boss. You need to relax a bit. Let me lavish you with all the attention you so richly deserve.”

Nightmare turned to face him, his eyebrow raised and his one eye light showing Killer his amusement. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren’t you? What are you trying to do, impress me? You know you already do. Or are you trying to distract me from Cross’ misbehaviour? I can see him over there. He’s acting like a lovestruck teenager.”

So are you, Killer thought to himself, a lovestruck teenager that’s fallen in love with his biggest rival. Out loud he said, “If you want to say that about Cross you have to say that about all of them. Dust is flirting with that small blue one like it’s his favorite hobby, Blood and Sugar are doing their Romeo and Juliet act, and Error is arguing so much with that artist that I wouldn’t be surprised if his voice wasn’t hoarse tomorrow.”

“The small one is called Blue and the artist’s name is Ink,” Nightmare said absently.

Killer blinked at him, then smiled his most winning smile - the one he wore when he was trying not to get caught at something sketchy. “You know, it would probably be a good idea if we introduced everyone before matching people up for the night. Why don’t I get everyone’s attention and you can tell people who they’ll be sleeping with?”

Nightmare tore his eye light off of Dream just long enough to narrow it at Killer. Then he sighed and shrugged. “Fine, then. No knives, though. I know you like to show off, but please, save it for another time.”

Killer saluted with the half-ironic, half-serious form that drove Nightmare crazy. “Got it, Boss!”

Then he turned to the center of the fire everyone was gathered around, raised his hands to his mouth, and hollered, “Heylalo, skellies! Listen up, the boss has something to say!”

Eight heads turned to face him with expressions that varied from annoyance to curiosity to mildly dissociative. Killer frowned slightly. Blood he could understand, but why would Dream be dissociating? Had something happened to him since he and Nightmare parted ways? Or was it just the general absentmindedness of a normal monster? Killer vowed to find out.

Nightmare’s grunt interrupted his thoughts. Killer turned to face his handsome datemate and listened closely to the orders of the night. “Now that I have your attention, I’m going to introduce you all and tell you who you’ll be sleeping with. Remember that these arrangements might change as the trip goes on, so if you can’t handle sleeping with someone please let me know. Blood, Sugar,” He pointed to the two of them in turn, “you’ll be sleeping together in the red tent. Ink, Blue,” Again he pointed to each of them in turn, “You’ll be sleeping in the blue tent. Killer, Dream,” He signaled who each of them was, “you have the yellow tent. Error, Dust, please take the black tent,” He gestured at both of them. “Finally, Cross and myself will take the green tent. My name is Nightmare. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

The boss studied each face in turn, as did Killer. They would compare notes later.

Cross was blushing and averting his eyes from Nightmare’s face. He knew he was in trouble for today, but that didn’t stop him from looking forward to being punished. It never had before.

Blue was looking at Dust with longing and a flushed face. The expression was mutual. Interesting. Maybe they should be paired up in a tent tomorrow night. Dust could use a bit of a chance to unwind.

Ink had clearly lost interest in the conversation. He was looking around at the clearing with his hand twitching in the air. Long strokes, short curves, and forceful jabs would have painted a picture if Ink had only been holding a paintbrush. Killer would have bet any amount of money that he was already planning a drawing or two of their surroundings. Artists were like that.

Blood was eyeing the food with hunger, as usual. After what he had been through it was hardly a surprise. Sugar was beaming at his brother. Only his practiced eye told Killer that he was ready for their night’s more… intimate activities. Hopefully this time they wouldn’t get caught.

Dream was eyeing Killer with something like anxiety, except moreso. It almost looked like fear. It did look exactly like the expression Nightmare had turned on him the first time they’d been asked to share a tent. Huh.

Finally, there was Error. Error, as usual, was grumbling to himself. Killer knew exactly what he was upset about. He hated having to share a tent with anyone. He was always on edge, worried that they were going to bump into him in the night. He knew better by now, though, than to complain. Nightmare had no sympathy for his disgust at the touch of others anymore. No one had ever touched him at night. That wasn’t going to change.

Nightmare nodded when he was satisfied that no one was going to complain. “Good. Now, Blood, please serve out tonight’s food to everyone. It’s time to eat.”

[shes-ddreaming]

the eyes that lost you ➸ lee donghyuck

i.

✧ destination ↬ best friends to lovers + fluff, angst,,, all that jazz yak

✧ a party of two for ↬ lee donghyuck x reader

✧ duration of flight ↬ 2.5k

✧ in stereo ↬ exo - what if

✧ in which your best friend donghyuck decides to pretend to be someone else’s boyfriend, leaving you to confront the only thing you’ve been avoiding your whole life—your feelings for him.

donghyuck had confessed to you a long time ago. and if you only knew that you’d be hurting like this now, you would’ve said yes to him in a heartbeat. but you didn’t; you had decided that your friendship was more important than anything, rejecting your best friend’s confession.

he took your rejection lightly, telling you that your friendship was just as important to him as it was to you. “look, y/n, i love you not because i had any intention of making you my girlfriend, but because... i love you for .. you. and if you’d much rather stay friends, then i’m all for it. i’ll be your best friend—whatever you want me to be, i’ll be.” he was sincere, and you appreciated that more than anything. you were more than grateful that donghyuck understood your reasoning behind the rejection.

and a day later, things went right back to normal, never a moment of awkwardness. he was still the same best friend you’ve had since you came out of the womb. it was as if his confession never happened.

and that’s all it took for you to make lee donghyuck your best friend for life. he was your constant, the one person in your life who has always stayed by your side. so many of your friends have come and gone, but donghyuck wasn’t one of them.

here you were, not even 3 years later, your eyes were on your best friend whose hair has grown a little longer from how it was when he confessed. he’s a lot taller now, standing a good 6 inches or so above you. it seems like a lot about him has changed, and his feelings for you were not an exception. but there was one thing that could never change, and that was you being his best friend.

the object of his lingering glances is no longer you, but it just had to be kang mina. you weren’t surprised—she was annoyingly pretty, smart, and funny. not only that, she happened to be the class president. donghyuck? vice president. everyone called them a match made in heaven. you hated how you felt when he was around her. you hated how your heart would fall every time you caught sight of him stealing glances at her. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair to donghyuck. what right do you have to catch feelings for him when you let him suffer from his feelings for you for so long?

the guilt had eaten you up for a long time. you liked to believe that your suffering now was your way to repay the pain you caused donghyuck for liking you without any reciprocation all those years.

he always reminded you that he was alright with the way you two were, that you rejecting him didn’t hurt him as much as you thought it did, that he was glad you two were best friends. but it was hard to ignore his obvious feelings for you. you knew deep down that you were hurting him by staying friends, but he never complained. he quietly loved you until he developed feelings for someone else.

it was your turn to realize your feelings, only now it’s too late. you’re in love with your best friend but he’s in love with someone else.

however, it probably wouldn’t hurt as bad if he hadn’t been fake dating her. maybe then you wouldn’t see him in so much pain. you couldn’t bear to witness seeing him doing anything and everything for her when she doesn’t even feel the same way, just like he did for you.

“you’re a hypocrite,” mark says as you bore your heart and soul to him. these days, donghyuck sits with mina at lunch to continue to play the little charade they’ve been onto for weeks. mark lee has been your rock these past few months, always quietly listening to you and offering—what he would call—words of wisdom. you couldn’t count how many times you’ve gone to him to talk about your conflicting feelings about donghyuck. “be honest with me. is the fact that you’re no longer the object of lee donghyuck’s desire the driving force of what you think are your feelings for him?”

leave it to mark lee to be brutally honest with his stupid rhetorical questions. you sigh, putting your head down on the cafeteria table. you were a shitty person, a terrible, shitty person. you feel your lunch tray being moved away from your head. “do i have lettuce in my hair?” mark laughs at you, slapping your shoulder in the process.

“you did. but, i took it off of your hair, dumbass,” he softly pats your head like one would do to a crying toddler. “look, i’m sorry if that was a little mean. i hope i didn’t hurt your feelings or anything.”

“nah, it just got me thinking. do you think i’m projecting my desires of wanting a

boyfriend onto hyuck? or maybe i’m friend-jealous and i’m mistaking it for being in love with him?” you once again steal a glance at the boy who has been all over your thoughts lately and your heart disagreed. whatever these feelings were, they’re definitely not friend-jealousy or whatever mark had called it. you knew in your heart that you loved him.

“oh god i wanna die, i want to actually fucking die.”

mark has this amused look on his face as he helps you pack up once the bell rings for 4th period. “stop thinking about it for now, alright? we can get ice cream after school, it’s on me. i think i owe you.” he takes the textbook you were holding out of your hands and carries it for you, as he reaches his hand out for your backpack. you roll your eyes, taking it off and handing it to him. this was beginning to be a routine for you two whenever you’re sad. mark never lets you carry anything and always walked you to class.

“what did i do to deserve a mark lee?” you wonder out loud, followed by a kick to your shin from mark. you immediately took back what you said. “suddenly i don’t remember ever being friends with a kid named mark.” you hear his obnoxiously loud laugh and shake your head.

“shut up, loser!”

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: KDKDKD come heRE

[you questioned: “KDKDKD come heRE”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: STOP DOING THOSE REACTION THINGS AND REPLY FJDKDKDKD

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: PLEASE Y/N OH MY GOD

you: WHAT

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: pls come down to my floor rn i need sugar

you: what the fuck

[full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖 disliked “what the fuck”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I PROMISE YOU’LL GET TO HAVE SOME OF THE COOKIES I BAKE

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I RAN OUT OF SUGAR I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE 😔🙏🏽

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I HAVE A COUNCIL MEETING IN LIKE 2 HOURS AND I NEED TO HAVE THE COOKIES DONE BY THEN

you: oh shit i just checked i dont have any sugar

[full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖 disliked “oh shit i just checked i dont have any sugar”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: god why didn’t apple give the people™ the option to disheart something

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: you had one job

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: ONE JOB

you: KDKSKSKS IM SORRY LMFAO

you: ALSO I DONT EVEN THINK DISHEART IS THE RIGHT TERM FOR IT

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: come to the grocery store w me 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

you: fine 😔

“hey, neighbor!” you hear donghyuck yell from his door as you hold the button that keeps the elevator doors open.

you can already hear mark arguing “you two technically aren’t even neighbors! he lives like two floors below you!”

while donghyuck counters back saying, “yeah but if she lived on my floor then we would live right next door to each other!” you can recall this exact confrontation when the three of you were in 3rd grade.

you and donghyuck have lived in the same apartment building your whole lives—which is also a big reason as to how the pair of you reached best friend status.

“let’s go before the sun starts setting!” he was smiling as he ran towards you and you couldn’t even deny that your heart was doing backflips.

“hurry up before i let go of this button and leave you there,” you threaten him and he laughs, pretending to walk in slow motion. you let go of the button and the elevator doors begin to close in on each other, prompting a loud gasp from donghyuck as he runs as fast as he can to reach the doors before they close completely.

“y/n, what the fuck!” he cries once he reaches the doors and they open back up again. he had his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath and you couldn’t contain your laughter. “i hate you, oh my god! i busted a lung out there trying to catch up to the elevator. i can’t believe you’d do that to me.” you were both laughing now and you watched as he pretended to sob.

the doors of the elevator opened back up once you reached the lobby and donghyuck takes this as an opportunity to run away from you to get to his car before you could beat him there.

he had his payback when he locked the doors before you could even open the door to his car, leaving you there for a good two minutes, yelling “karma, bitch!” before finally letting you in.

“you’re insane!” he just laughs at this, and you two call a truce to stop pulling pranks on each other for the duration of your grocery trip.

“alright, alright. i’ll go drop the sugar off to my house and i’ll meet you at the rooftop,” you nod, waving goodbye to him as he steps foot off the elevator with the grocery bag in his hand and you continue up to the penthouse floor.

you really didn’t know if this was legal. if you were being honest, you had a feeling you were putting your parents’ lease on the line every time you snuck onto the rooftop. you made your way out of the penthouse floor, opening the doors to the fire escape before you were finally met with the stairs that lead up to the rooftop.

you smiled as you looked up to the sky with its various shades of blue, purple, and pink. it was your senior year of high school and you knew you’d miss this once you left home.

you: HURRY UP THE SUN IS SETTING REAL QUICK

you: it’S NOT GONNA WAIT FOR YOUR SLOW ASS

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: FUCK FUCK FUCK WAIT IM PUTTING THE COOKIES IN THE OVEN FIRST

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: TELL THE SUN TO SLOW DOWN 😤😤 damn even the sun has no pATIENCE

you: damn riGHT so if you don’t hurry up you’re gonna miss it 😔

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: ALR ALR THEY’RE IN THE OVEN I’M USAIN BOLTING OUTTA HERE

and usain bolt, he did. donghyuck soon opened the doors out of the fire escape, finally getting a glimpse of the sky as the sun started to set. you seemed to have not noticed him, eyes focused upwards onto the sky.

he stopped in his tracks. donghyuck liked to think he no longer had any feelings for you. “not even any residue,” he would tell himself. but he couldn’t lie that there were some moments that he’d wish you had felt the same way as he once did. this exact moment would make it on that list. you looked cute. your small figure was a good ten feet away from him but despite the distance, he just knew there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment.

“finally!” you yell as he made your way towards you. “i was ready to lasso the sun and keep it here until you got your ass up here.”

he was staring at you, a small smile adorning his features. if the word fond could be personified, it would probably be this exact face he was making.

you finally let go of the breath you had been holding when his eyes leave your face and instead focus onto the sky. “god i’m gonna miss this.”

“the sky? i was thinking the exact-“

“no, us.” oh shit. oh shit. oh shit. you couldn’t even look at him. god, you were blushing like crazy and you prayed that he didn’t notice because you knew you were being crazy obvious right now. “i’m gonna miss us sneaking onto the rooftop to watch the sunset, you know? it’s just- i don’t know. senior year ending has made me become more... sad? i don’t think that’s the right word for it. nostalgic? maybe. every moment just has this sense of finality to it and that scares me.”

you were about to reply, but you were immediately cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. “hey, mina.”

and just as icarus flew too close to the sun, so did you heart. and now you felt it falling straight down to the sea. you didn’t bother to listen to the rest of his conversation on the phone. instead, you watched the sun while it painted the buildings a brilliant shade of golden yellow and casted a shadow onto the trees. but the view of the buildings could never compete with donghyuck as his tanned skin glowed in the golden sunlight and his eyes twinkled in a different shade of brown.

“crap, i almost forgot about my council meeting. i have to go pick up mina, too,” he had a small frown on his face and you giggled. lee donghyuck, how could you be so cute? “are you gonna be okay up here? i’m gonna go get the cookies ready. i’ll leave some at your door, as promised.”

you reject donghyuck’s offer of walking you to your door, telling him that you just wanted to stay here for a little while longer.

mork 🤢: damn senior year rly be hitting different 😩😔😫💦

you: MARK WTF JDDJDJ YOUR EMOJIS GTFO

mork 🤢: y/n i have a story omg facetime me #storytime

mork 🤢: i think my life is starting to become a coming of age movie LMAO

you smile as you read mark’s texts, telling him you’ll facetime him once you get back home. he was right though; senior year really did feel different, and it forced you to confront feelings you’d much rather keep buried, especially in the lee donghyuck department of your heart.

hello! if you made it this far, then thank you 🥺 tbh i was reALLY SCARED TO POST THIS IDK I HAVEN’T ACTUALLY WRITTEN ANYTHING IN AWHILE !! this WILL be continued so stay tuned !! 💖 kjdfakjl also aren’t we all just tryna be hyuck’s best friend 😔✊🏽

[possiblyjad]

So I noticed that I have had a bunch of new followers over the last month or so and I haven't taken the time to send you guys love and a proper intro! So here we go:

Hi! My name is Jade, but you can also call me Jad. I'm 27, Canadian (I live in Niagara Falls), and super queer. I use both she and they pronouns. I have two conflicting aesthetics of super cutesy pastel stuff and emo renaissance. I love fashion, makeup, and body modification as outlets of expression. I go to school VERY soon to be an esthetician, and I'm currently looking into the possibilities of getting a piercing apprenticeship.

Under the cut will be 25 random facts about me. Click to see them:

1. I grew up in a smallish town called Bowmanville, which is about an hour east of Toronto. It's rapidly expanding but in the heart of it is a bevy of picture esque historic neighborhoods lined with centuries old mansions. If you ever go, the one place I highly recommend food wise is Norm’s Deli downtown. The handmade pierogis and cabbage rolls are unmatched. Also, if you’re a tattoo fiend like me, some of my all time favourite artists are in Bowmanville/Oshawa.

2. I currently have 4 tattoos and 12 piercings, with the strong desire to get more.

3. My favourite colours are pastels mainly, baby blue, mint, lavender, and millennial pink.

4. I have a caffeine addiction which is usually fueled by coffee (mainly iced) and sugar free energy drinks.

5. I don't really care for alcohol too much, I like the occasional beer at Taps or a cocktail on a hot day, but I hate getting drunk and I'm also not fairly comfortable around drunk people unless I'm also drunk. (I don't really do parties anymore for that very reason)

6. I've been pescatarian since Feb 2020 and I've been trying my hardest to use cruelty free personal care products since the beginning of 2020.

7. My favourite CF makeup brands are Colourpop, Milk Makeup, Sugarpill, and Anastasia Beverly Hills.

8. Even though I'm trying really hard right now, I am USELESS when it comes to hair. I don't really know how to curl hair, I don't know how to braid, and I cannot be trusted with bleach (I won't fry your hair, it'll just be very uneven). I'm trying to learn hair curling now, though!

9. I smoke weed almost everyday. Depending on what I smoke with, it actually levels me out anxiety wise and allows me to focus and think like a normal person. I also smoke before bed to help treat my insomnia. On occasion though, I DO like to get mind numbingly stoned.

10. I actually have a hard time getting close to people, predominantly because of my past relationships with toxic people. My broken brain automatically considers most relationships temporary until proven otherwise, in an attempt to protect myself from further heartache. I always want to make new friends, I swear! Just keep interacting with me and I'll open up at some point.

11. I don't shut the fuck up. Ever. I'm either talking my friends' ears off or I'm complimenting a stranger because I can. Let’s just say that I’m a hit with my friends’ parents or family.

12. I LOVE TTRPG, it’s likely my biggest creative outlet right now. I play both DnD 5E and Pathfinder 1E. I partake in 5 games right now.

13. I’m a first time DM! I started a campaign for a bunch of people who are relatively new to DnD a few months ago and it’s been a hit so far! I absolutely love flexing my creative muscles and writing for my friends!

14. I also write as a hobby as well. Mainly fantasy drabble based on my TTRPG characters, but it’s still something.

15. I’m almost always either listening to music or finding new musicians to listen to. I curate playlists all the time and daydream to songs constantly.

16. My favourite artists/bands right now are: Lights, Marianas Trench, Mothica, BMTH, Halsey, Ashnikko, Billy Talent, Stand Atlantic, and a plethora more.

17. I’m technically the oldest in my family. I have a younger brother (also queer and trans, he recently started HRT!!), and a little half sister who is the literal light of my life.

18. I LOVE animals! I have a senior cat, Willow, who does not look or behave like a senior cat. I also have a lionhead/dwarf rabbit named Theodore, or Theo. I’d get more pets if it weren’t for the fact, we don’t really have the room for other animals in our apartment, and also the fact that Willow hates other cats.

19. I’m TERRFIED of bees/wasps. I understand their importance to the world and they can vibe and save the planet as far away from me as possible.

20. My favourite food is sushi. I’m also a massive sushi snob and I have strong opinions on many of the places I’ve been to in my lifetime. The best I’ve had is still this place in Freehold, NJ that I don’t remember the name of. In Ontario, thus far, is tied between Oishi Maki in Whitby, ON, and the St Catharines location for Wind.

21. I’m also a sucker for good bubble tea. It’s one of the easiest ways to win me over.

22. I just love tea in general. Hot or iced. You should see my tea/coffee cupboard, it is PACKED. I’m a huge David’s tea fan but I also like trying other loose-leaf teas as well, and I prefer herbal/fruit infusions over most other teas. Except for chai, you can win me over with a good chai.

23. I marched in a pride parade once! It was the Durham Pride Parade in Oshawa in 2014! I was still very much in the closet at the time, but I did get photographed by the news and everything! I would LOVE to go to Toronto Pride once in my life with a bunch of my other Alphabet Mafia fiends when things die down.

24. I am a shameless collector of Pokemon and Alpacasso plush.

25. Back when we could, I used to go to conventions a lot! I’ve been to Anime North, Fan Expo, and Con Bravo thus far. My favourite out of all of them is easily Con Bravo, but I would LOVE to check out other Ontario conventions when things open up!

[underthedekutree]

Young Link might have PTSD - Part 2: Termina is NOT a Parallel World, Technically

This is a continuation of my last post so if you’re seeing this and haven’t read it, go here.

This is the part where I somewhat smoothly segue into Majora’s Mask. Link, lonely and filled with unprocessed trauma, leaves Hyrule in search of Navi. According to most sources (which take from Hyrule Historia probably? don’t quote me on it), Link falls down a hole into Termina, a parallel world to Hyrule, that contains many familiar looking denizens of Hyrule, but playing different roles. And well, if you probably guessed by the title, I have a rather different interpretation.

Okay, so in a nutshell my theory is that Termina is in fact all a dream, kind of like Koholint Island. Except the one dreaming up this world isn’t some deity like the Giants or Skull Kid or the Moon. It’s Link.

(big explainey hoo hah below)

Evidence 1: Link begins the game sleeping. Yes, I know literally every Zelda game begins this way and it’s a whole tradition thing. I am beginning with the weakest points first and working my way up to the strong ones. We’ll get there.

Evidence 2: The reuse of character and environment models from Ocarina of Time. The literal IRL reason for this is of course the game famously being given only one year of production time, which meant that the most practical method was to reuse as much material from MM’s predecessor as possible (eg. Romani Ranch sign is the Kakariko Village sign, and still says Kakariko Village on it). It seems like a rather offhand afterthought for Nintendo to chalk it all up to “oh its just a parallel world like Link to the Past or something. But think of it like this; when we dream, we often see familiar people from throughout our lives put in strange and unexpected situations, like that irritable old farmhand you hated so much is now a depressed circus master for some reason. Dreams don’t make sense. Things you know will mix with other strange inexplicable things, fleeting thoughts in your mind, all roughly tied together by whatever emotions you had been feeling when you went to bed. Malon is split into two people, Romani and Cremia, her older and younger self. This might reflect how Link feels about Malon, that she changed so much in those 7 years that she’s like a different person entirely, that it’s hard for him to process that they are the same, because the change was so shockingly sudden for him.

Evidence 3: Gorons in the snow, Gerudo by the sea. Yes, I know that sounds a lot like good evidence for a parallel world (that’s why the idea is widely accepted in the first place, it has merit), but it also works in as dream world evidence too. As a child, my family was obsessed with skiing. We would go to the same mountain every winter, and we would stay at the same lodge. It almost became like a second home for me. So much so, that one night I dreamed that my house had been replaced by the lodge, so it wasn’t on a snow-capped mountain, but in a bushy Australian suburb. Okay that kinda got off subject but I’m bad at conclusions so in summary Dreams Just Be Like That (tm). You get what I’m saying right? No? Sorry, let’s just move on.

Evidence 4: The Milk Bar. AKA my favourite location in the game! It’s often overlooked as the “haha funny they couldn’t put alcohol in kids game so its kiddy milk hee hee”, but it is actually a strong thematic pillar of Majora’s Mask. As I mentioned in Part 1, if you put a 9 year old in a 16 year old’s body and call him an adult before ripping that all away is probably going to leave the kid with an identity crisis. What is a mature place open at late hours when children are sleeping? A bar. What is a drink associated with the young, being produced for the purpose of helping children grow? Milk. No please don’t go I swear there’s more to this, stay with me. In order to gain access to the bar, Link must prove he is mature enough by wearing a mask, a disguise, like Adult Link is to Young Link. Being adult isn’t earned through years of natural living experience and mental development, it’s a thing you are given by adults to just BE when they deem you worthy, at least from how Link sees it. So that is the amalgamation of dream thoughts that is the Milk Bar. Is it mature? Is it childish? What is the line between the two? Is there one? It’s the culmination of his anxieties and confusions that he doesn’t know how to express. Another, smaller expression of this anxiety is the Clock Town Guards. When Link is a Deku, the guards say they don’t allow children outside the gates. When Link turns back however, the guard goes to stop him because he looks too young, but sees that he has a sword, and lets him pass. Why the sword? Well, in one way this is a callback to Kokiri Forest, where Mido doesn’t let Link see the Deku Tree until he has a sword. But also, what is the item that lets Link travel through time and become an adult in OOT? The Master Sword. Link seems to believe that adulthood is measured by the things you have, physical markers of maturity, which is how lots of children see adulthood. You’re an adult if you can drink, if you’re tall, if you’re married, if you have a house, a car etc. But in reality this isn’t how it works. Heck, I’m technically an adult but I sure as hell don’t feel like one, because I know I still have things to learn about responsibility, patience and all the other things, that can only come with time, which is the moral conclusion of OOT, but clearly Link missed the memo. Don’t get me wrong, there are some indicators to show he’s grown a bit. He can ride Epona, use the bow, do flips like some kind of acrobat etc. But those strange and confused feelings linger, and manifest in the young boy’s dreams.

Evidence 5: The four transformation masks. The four masks represent different aspects of Link’s self, and the way he grew and changed in OOT. Deku Scrub the Innocent, Goron the Confident, Zora the Mature and Fierce Deity the Hero. Link began only knowing the Kokiri Forest, and nothing of the world outside. As he set out on his journey, he grew more confident in his skills and defeated greater foes. When evil took over, he learned from his fatal mistake and worked to right it. And when it was finally time to face the greatest threat, he was ready, with all the heart pieces, bottles full of fairies, Biggoron Sword in hand. At that moment he struck the final blow he probably felt like the strong and unstoppable hero everyone in Hyrule told him he needed to be. And that feeling of pure uncompromising strength, with the whole world behind him, manifested in the Fierce Deity. Fierce Deity is much taller than Adult Link, and packs so much of a punch that he can beat Majora without batting an eye, like some overpowered Super Saiyan. It reminds me a lot of Undertale, with young Asriel becoming what he imagines to be an all-powerful godlike being, like something you’d see as a children’s drawing. Fierce Deity gives off those vibes, like “he has a HUGE SWORD that SHOOTS BEAMS OF LIGHT and he’s 8 FOOT TALL and CAN KILL ENEMIES IN A SINGLE BLOW!!” Before the final battle on the moon, when Majora gives you the mask, he childishly asks if you want to play a game of good guys and bad guys. And the good guy always wins, no matter what. Fierce Deity makes the final boss a cakewalk, but its supposed to.

Evidence 6: Anju and Kafei. Short one, because it falls a lot into everything else I’ve said regarding childhood vs adulthood. Kafei is effectively a switcheroo of what happened to Link in OOT. An adult shrunk back to childhood, uncomfortable in his new body and looking for a way to fix everything. He’s a reflection of how Link now kinda feels like an adult in a child’s body, because he had started to be used to being called an adult.

Evidence 7: The Moon. I haven’t super touched on the main meat of the game yet, so here it is. The moon and the 3 day mechanic is an allegory for constant mounting pressure, that builds and builds, never ceasing, because the world is in danger, and there’s only one person who has been chosen to save it. I’ve always been interested in the Chosen One narrative, and how different media explore the idea of the world’s very existence being pushed onto one person. How at the end of it all, they can never be the same again after all they’ve gone through. When you’re somehow expected to hold up the Moon itself single-handed, and your life and everything you care about suffers because you’re putting everyone else before yourself. That feeling of complete loneliness under a crushing weight, and although other characters may come to help you, in the end its still all down to you, and you never had a choice in any of it, as all the decisions were made by someone else. You must do what they tell you. Believe in yourself, believe...

Evidence 8: Skull Kid. The story goes that long ago in Termina, the Skull Kid and the Giants played together, until one day, the Giants left, leaving the Skull Kid alone and heartbroken, with nobody to turn to. As life moves on, things may change, and people always come and go from your life. Your friend might move overseas, or stop texting you, or you might fall out of friendship after an awkward event from which you could never recover (no, these have totally not all happened to me, shut up i’m fine), or your fairy companion might just disappear without so much as a goodbye after their task is complete. And it feels like you didn’t matter at all. That they never really cared about you, and you’re as easy to drop and move on from as a child’s toy. You might get angry, and want to shut them out, and give them a taste of their own medicine. Majora’s Mask teaches you that this isn’t the case. Life is ever changing, but you will always have the memories of times with your friends, and a chance to make more with new friends, like a sassy talkative fairy sprite and her shy brother or a child made of wood who wants to destroy the world. Friends come from unlikely places, so accept that change will happen and hope that wherever the people you knew are, they’re okay. You’re thinking about them, so they might be thinking about you too. And who knows? Life is unpredictable. They might just come back one day, and it’ll be like they were never gone.

Evidence 9 (the final one, I promise): The Song of Healing. At the end of all things, after losing ones you love, connections to family and friends, memories of things long past... you need time to heal. Link’s journey through Termina is a constant gauntlet of running into his own past traumas, forced to relive them again, and again, and again. But sometimes you should take a deep breath, gather your thoughts, and take time to heal. Although it can be important to confront your fears and learn to surpass them, it is exhausting, and you can end up more emotionally broken than when you started. The three masks all had regrets of powerlessness; unable to protect your community, your loved ones, or even yourself. Troubles you’ve gone through that keep plaguing your mind, and you’re wondering if you’ve done enough, seeking answers where none can be found. And the best thing you can do... is accept and move on. Be kind to yourself, and give yourself time to heal. Link’s way of processing his grief and trauma is to create an entire hellscape world in his own head, but not everyone processes it the same way. Sometimes you feel like you need to busy yourself, or listen to soothing music, or talk to people you trust, or spend copious amounts of money, or make some angst art, or cuddle your plush toys until their stuffing squeezes out. Sometimes life hits you in the face and you want to blame yourself for standing in the firing line, but it’s not your fault. It’s okay to feel however you feel, whether you’re drenched in a pool of tears or you just feel numb, it’s okay and natural. You’re okay. You’re here.

Okay so it got kinda personal at the end there but I hope it was informative, and made you think a little bit differently about Majora’s Mask and Ocarina of Time. You probably want to go back and play them now. Me too.

So was this all just an excuse for me to gush about how cool Majora’s Mask is? Hell fucking yes it was. Congratulations for making it through my monstrous ramblings, you get the secret prize of looking at my weird art on my DA. Here you go. Have a nice day, Zelda Nerds.

[waywardodysseys]

Unconditionally - Chapter Three

Warnings: mentions of cheating, cussing, SMUT, oral receiving (m & f)

Word count: 4.2+k

Author’s note: because everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally; part 3 of ?; sorry not sorry for this either; enjoy!!!

Unconditionally: Chp. 1, Chp. 2

Pedro finds you in the kitchen making omelets. He walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you. He brushes your hair aside then nuzzles your neck.

“Smells delicious,” Pedro whispers.

You shrug and smile. “Fair warning, I don’t cook often.”

Pedro’s quiet as he licks a sweet spot.

You sigh contently. You could get used to this. Mornings with Pedro. You frown down at the skillet on the stove – were you really thinking about the future so soon?

You turn around in his embrace. You swallow as you realize he’s shirtless. You bite your lip at seeing his chest in the morning light shining through the kitchen windows.

“See something you like?”

“Yes,” you half whisper, half squeak.

Pedro brushes his lips against yours as he touches your cheek and sweeps his hand through your hair.

You return the kiss as your free hand travels up his chest. His skin is warm, soft. You reach Pedro’s long neck and glide your thumb up it then trace his jawline and feel the prickliness of fuzzy hairs along the strong bone.

The food begins to sizzle in the skillet, but Pedro keeps moving his mouth against yours, his tongue dipping in for more. You give into him, not wanting to let go. Both of you aren’t giving a care to the world around you until the smoke alarm starts blaring its annoying beeps.

You jump back and face the stove, moving the skillet from the flame. You then walk over to the window and open it widely. Trying to move the smoke out of the apartment with a dishtowel.

After the alarm is off and the smoke nearly cleared, Pedro grins, “I want to set more alarms off with you Y/N.”

You turn and face him; you blush as you smile.

Pedro walks over to you and pulls you into his strong arms. “I’ve become a greedy man with you. I don’t know if I can wait a couple of days to see you again.”

“A second date? Tonight?”

Pedro smiles and presses his forehead against yours. He loves the intimate contact between your skin and his, no matter where that contact takes place. “Yes. Tonight,” he pulls away but cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. “Unless you don’t—”

You nod. “I do. I want another date. Tonight. Please.”

Pedro smiles widely. “Good.” He kisses you loudly on the mouth. “How about I pick you up at seven?”

“What about breakfast?” You shrug.

“I’ve had my breakfast,” he says as he places a kiss against your lips.

You blush again, smiling down at the floor.

Pedro places a finger under your chin, raising your head up. “Never be embarrassed mi querida. You’re beautiful.”

“Pedro,” you sigh.

He glides his thumb over your lips. “Remember if I am moving too fast for you, let me know.”

You didn’t want him to slow down. This was still overwhelming, but you wanted him, you needed him in your life. You nod and smile. “I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” Pedro grabs his shirt, which he had to have placed on the counter when he walked in.

You watch him put it on, already missing him and his skin against yours. You follow him to the front door, and he turns to look at you while he puts his coat on.

“Seven?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“We’ll go somewhere fun.”

You raise your eyebrows.

Pedro pulls you in for a light kiss. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

You kiss him back then say, “alright.”

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

You rest yourself against the doorjamb as you watch him walk down the hallway towards the elevator. Once he is out of your sight, you turn back into your apartment and close the door, spending the rest of the day gleefully and patiently waiting for seven o’clock.      

-------

Pedro walks into his Brooklyn apartment, shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up in the hall closet. You are the only thing running through his mind as he walks towards his bedroom and undresses. He recalls the way you blush at his words, respond to his touches, his kisses. He seared into his memory the way you looked at him with your Y/E/C eyes when he revealed his intentions, revealed he wanted you and only you for the rest of life. No one mattered after he laid his eyes upon you, no one other women could compare to you after he and you shared that passionate kiss under the mistletoe. If he hadn’t restrained himself, he would’ve pulled you away from the party, brought you back to his apartment and had you then.

Pedro doesn’t want to think about the past, but it creeps into his mind. He had loved deeply once and she turned his back on him by leaving him suddenly, with no explanation, no thought about his feelings. Then he learned she was pregnant with another man’s child. She’d been cheating on him, and Pedro had no clue. He had even been planning on proposing because he wanted to marry her.

After that, he closed his heart off to love. He remained focus on his career, his friendships, his family. He eventually came to terms he was going to be alone for the rest of his life until you walked in with your kind eyes, open heart, and gentle soul. You are the answer to the question which plagued him most of his life – will I ever love again?

Pedro knew he was taking an enormous chance, an even greater risk when he told you he couldn’t wait a couple of days for the next date. He needed to see you again, even if it meant the same night, only hours apart. He wanted you to know he needed you, he wanted you.

-------

You are being led into Spin in the Flatiron District at eight by your hand inside of Pedro’s. The ping pong venue is packed with people wanting to get out of their cramped apartments and have a fun night with friends or their significant others. You had visited this place a few times with Kendrick and Will. You push Will from your mind, all you want to think about is the man in front of you and the way he’s beginning to make you feel. 

You’d spent most of the day writing after Pedro left. He had become your muse regarding the main male character in your book. You had poured your feelings onto the page and realized those feelings were for Pedro.

You had felt like a closed book your entire life. Not opening for anyone except those you trusted and loved. You had held yourself back when you were younger because growing up you thought you’d never find someone till Will. You had experience with sex but with love that didn’t happen till Will walked in and showed you what love could be and what could happen when you open yourself to having love and being loved. Then Will threw it all away because of a lie he has told and that hurt you even more. It broke you, it crippled you. It nearly ended you…then Pedro appeared, and all seemed right with the world. One touch of his strong hand grasping yours and you felt calm, peace, at ease. You felt the world was giving you a second chance when you had decided it wasn’t going to give you one and let you live out the rest of your days alone.

“Played ping pong before?” Pedro’s smooth voice cuts through the quietness between the two of you.

You laugh, “not since I was in middle school.”

Pedro raises an eyebrow, “then prepare to be taken down.”

You tease, “wanna do a bet?”

Pedro gathers you in his arms. “What kind of bet?”

“I don’t know,” you say as you place your hand on his t-shirt. “How dirty are you willing to get?”

“Mi querida, a tease.”

You shrug, “if you don’t wanna bet…”

“Oh, I do.” Pedro growls lightly before kissing you.

You swallow, “winner gets to pick their choice of room for doing the loser in.” Because this morning, you could’ve taken him in the kitchen, and he probably would have let you.

Pedro runs his hand down your back, “the loser?”

“Loser still gets sex. I mean, technically, it’s a win-win,” you laugh.

“Now I have a serious question.” Pedro states.

Uh, oh. “What?”

“When can the winner claim this prize?”

“Tonight,” you breathlessly say before bringing his mouth down to yours.

Pedro playfully smacks your ass before letting go, “we should get a table before I change my mind and just take you home.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you say without any warning. Yeah, you wanted him, needed him. He was going to be your demise, and you didn’t mind at all.

“I promised a date Y/N. You are getting one.” Pedro says before pulling you further into Spin.

Sounds of chatter, music, and ping pong balls fill your ears as you make your way through the club. Pedro eventually finds a table tucked away in the corner. You both sit down, and he wraps an arm around you.

“Just got to wait our turn.” Pedro says as he glances at you.

“Drinks? Food?” A waitress asks as she appears.

“Whiskey neat,” Pedro answers.

“Blue Hawaiian.” You reply.

After the waitress returns with your drinks, you order food and settle in to watch the crowd of people milling about in the vibrant, art deco space.

“Tell me more about you.” Pedro whispers against your ear.

“Like what?”

“Your interests, hobbies.”

You take a sip of your mixed drink. It’s your favorite. The alcohol in it seems to give you courage as you say, “big animal lover, love to travel, still take time to read when I can, watch movies and TV shows. Should I say I’ve never seen any of your shows?” You laugh with a tease.

Pedro laughs, “please tell me that isn’t true!?”

You shrug, “I’ve seen Game of Thrones, Narcos, The Mandalorian, If Beale Street Could Talk, Kingsman 2, Equalizer 2, Triple Frontier.”

“You do know Kendrick and I worked on Equalizer 2 together?”

“I do. I would’ve gone to the premiere, but I was stuck down in Australia for a movie I was working on.” You reply.

“Kendrick talked about you that night. First time I heard your name.”

You inwardly groan. “I hope he didn’t paint me in a bad light.”

Pedro shakes his head, takes a sip of his whiskey. “No. He was saying how much of an ass your boss was. And he knew you wouldn’t retaliate; you’d keep to yourself and not push the boss’ buttons. Didn’t want to cause drama so you stayed and finished working.”

Yeah, Kendrick knew you well. You shrug, “I like to keep to myself and mind my own business.”

“Tell me what the ideal night for you would be.”

“Date wise or just by my lonesome?”

“Both. Start with the date.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Probably dinner at home, a night in. Watching a movie or just being in each other’s presence. Me reading, writing. You reading or,” you pause as you look at him. “or you just looking at me like that.”

Pedro smiles widely, his eye crinkle. His hand reaches out and brushes some of your Y/H/C hair behind your ear. “Nice to know I’m already in your mind for your ideal date.”

He was?, you think. He is.

Pedro places a soft kiss on your lips and as he begins to pull away, you pull him back in. Tasting him, tasting the whiskey. Your mind wonders off to thinking if you were both not here and back at your apartment, or his, you’d devour him. You wanted him badly, needed him badly. He was beginning to become the air you needed to breathe, to survive. He was becoming your world.

You pull back, a little too quickly. Your heart is racing inside of your chest. You had never felt a wave of emotion hit this quickly with anyone. Not even Will – with him it was gradual but with Pedro it’s a spinning nosedive.

Pedro palms your cheek, concern in his eyes and voice. “Are you okay?”

You swallow, take a drink. “Yes.”

“I told you if this is too fast—”

Was it?, you think. Your heart is twisting inside of your chest. You close your eyes, trying to clear your mind. You and Pedro were on a second date. Second! Yet this felt more like the fifth, or tenth. Like you two had been together for more than just 24 hours.

“Talk to me. Please.” Pedro whispers against your ear.

You open your eyes and sigh, “I’ve never felt…,” you hesitate, “you’re doing something to me Pedro. I can’t explain it. Yet. But I want to feel it more than anything else. I want you, need you. Yes, this has been overwhelming but with you it’s something I want to experience. Something I want to last.”

Pedro palms both of your cheeks, lifting your face up to his. “You are my answer Y/N,” Pedro grins as you raise your eyebrows, “I’ll explain it one day. I have no intention of letting you go, of letting anyone else have you. I want to be yours and yours alone. I want you to be mine and mine alone. We’ve been given a chance to find someone again and I know my someone is you.”

Here Pedro is bearing his heart, his intentions to you again. You had done the same you realize. You told him you wanted to feel what was happening between you and him. You told him it was something you wanted to experience; you told him you wanted it to last. You look into his coffee colored eyes, notice the crinkles around them. You see the kindness and sincerity in them again, you also see a flicker of love in them. This man is falling for you. Were you falling for him too?

You are once again rendered speechless. Oh, boy. What this man has done to you, is doing to you. He is yours, your heart pumps inside your chest. He. Is. Yours. Now if only you two were in a more private location because you want nothing more than be with him, whether having sex or just holding onto one another. You just want, need to be in his presence. It soothes you; it calms you. Nothing else matters, no one else matters but him.

“Pascal?” A voice cuts through the club and through the intimate moment you two are having.

Pedro brushes your lips with his thumb, “come on mi querida. I want to take you down and have you where I desire tonight.”

You blush and grab his hand, heading towards the section of ping pong tables.

-------

A couple of more hours and drinks later, a giggling you and Pedro are walking out of Spin, not giving a care to other people walking on the sidewalk. Pedro pulls you towards the curb and into his arms.          

He hails a cab and gets you in the backseat. He climbs in and gives the driver his address then pulls you into his arms again. He rests his head atop yours. “Where shall I have you tonight?”

“You’re just lucky! I would’ve won if it wasn’t for those damn frat boys.” You giggle.

Pedro laughs as he snakes a hand under your coat, then under your shirt.

“Pedro,” you ground out at his touch. He drums his fingers lightly against your skin, causing goosebumps. You close your eyes and hum, then say, “don’t stop.”

He tips your chin up with a finger then glides his mouth over yours. “Never.”

You loop an arm around his neck, your fingers thread themselves through his hair. Keeping his mouth on yours for the duration of the cab ride back to his place.

Once Pedro has you inside his apartment, he pulls you to him, shrugging you out of your jacket quickly. He pulls you up against as his mouth kisses you soundly then his mouth moves down over your jawline to your neck. He finds your sweet spot and suckles at it.

“Pedro,” you say as you make the soft, gasping moan sound Pedro can’t get enough, will never get enough of.

He growls at the sound. “Eres mia.”

Your hands are fumbling at his jacket and pushing it off him. You aren’t sure exactly what he said but you do know mio is mine. “Only yours.”

Pedro removes his mouth from your neck, strokes your cheek. “You are mine Y/N. Eres mia.”

“Yours Pedro. All yours.” You kiss his mouth. “Eres mio Pedro.”

“The only room, only place I want you tonight is in my bedroom, in my bed.” Pedro breathlessly says as he grabs your hand and walks you through his apartment towards his bedroom.        

When inside his bedroom you capture Pedro’s mouth with yours, kissing him deeply. Your tongue presses against his mouth and he lets you in. Your tongues dance together as you reach down and lift his shirt up. You part for a brief second as he finishes taking it off. He pulls you close as his lips finds yours again. His hand cups your cheek before he weaves his fingers into your Y/H/C hair.

You hook your arms around his back, your hands landing on his shoulder blades. You move your hands down slowly against his back. Feeling his soft, warm skin against your fingers.

You had wanted to get lost back in kiss since the Christmas party, and now you get lost in it every time he presses his mouth against yours. His mouth fused to yours is a feeling you never want to lose, a feeling you want to experience day after day.

Pedro reaches under your shirt and touches your skin. He wants to give you the same sensations you are giving him with your touch – featherlight which causes shivers to roll across the flesh as the touch sets the body on fire.

He lifts your shirt up; you pull faintly away and help him remove it. He dips his head as he kisses you along your neck. His fingers dance lightly across the edges of your beige bra, his fingers graze your nipples through the material causing you to let out a soft, gasping moan as well as arching your back, pushing yourself up against him.

“Pedro,” you whisper.

He lifts his head and smiles as he glides his thumb over your lips. “Y/N.”

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach as you keep your gaze on his coffee colored eyes. Your hands unbutton and unzip his jeans. You push them down over his ass, revealing his hard cock. You stroke his cock once, your thumb swirling over the tip. You lick your lips as you lean forward and whisper, “I want to taste you Pedro.”

Pedro half hisses, half growls before crushing his mouth to yours.

You pull away slightly and lick his lips before you kiss down his neck. You slowly move your mouth against and down his chest and stomach. You finally kneel in front of him. Your eyes on his hard, thick cock. You inwardly moan as you wrap both of your hands around him comfortably before leaning down and swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Fu—fuck,” Pedro hisses at the touch of your tongue on his cock. He rocks back on his heels as he feels your mouth engulf his entire length slowly. He looks down at you and brushes your hair away from your face as his entire length is inside of your mouth and the tip hitting the back of your throat.

You begin moving up and down his cock slowly. Your tongue swirling around his cock, from the bottom over the top back to bottom. You repeat this motion over and over until you reach the tip, when you do you swirl your tongue around the tip.

“Y/N,” Pedro grounds out as his hands tighten in your hair.

You keep moving your head up and down, your tongue back and forth. Swirling the tip with your tongue.

“Y/N!” Pedro hisses.

You smile as you release his cock from your mouth. As you stand Pedro pulls you against him and reaches behind you, unhooking your bra.

“On the bed,” Pedro moans as he backs you up against it.

You fall back, throwing your bra aside, and Pedro scrambles to undo your pants. He pulls them off, along with your panties, in a hurry. He pushes down his own pants and briefs, kicking them off before kneeling on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

Pedro kisses you down your neck and across your collarbone. He leans up and looks down at you. “I want to taste you too mi querida.”

You moan at the mere thought of his tongue on your clit. Fuck! “Yes.”

Pedro kisses his way down your chest, he pauses to flick each of your nipples with his tongue, causing you to arch your back and your fingers to run through his hair. He palms your core. You’re hot, wet, ready. Pedro moans as he continues moving down across your stomach. He settles himself between your legs as his fingers open your folds, exposing your pink pussy to his eyes. He runs one finger along the folds before dipping his head.

He runs his tongue up and finds your clit. Nothing tastes like you, he thinks. You’re sweet like honey and sugar, nothing else tastes better than you.

“Pedro,” you moan as you finally feel his tongue against your clit. You suck in a breath as his tongue begins swirling around your clit. The orgasm inside of you climbing higher and higher as seconds tick by. “Oh—mmm,” you lustfully moan out. Pedro’s tongue works overtime as he brings you to the peak of pure ecstasy. “Fuck…,” you ground out as your toes curl and you arch your back as your orgasm seeps through you.

You run your fingers through Pedro’s hair as he travels back up your body, kissing your stomach, chest, flicking your nipples. Pedro nuzzles and nips at your neck as he positions his cock against your pussy.

You moan, “yes,” as you feel him enter, then protection for him crosses your mind, “Pedro…”

“I want to feel you around me. Please tell me you are…”

You nod, you are on the pill. “Yes.”

Pedro enters his cock slowly into your soaked pussy. He growls lustfully at feeling your slick walls around his cock instead of the latex of a condom being a barrier between him feeling you around him.

“Eres mia, Y/N,” Pedro whispers as he begins slowly thrusting in and out of you.

Your hands travel up his chest and then to his back where your fingers press into his skin as he begins thrusting faster and harder into you. You’re rolling your hips up, meeting his thrusts, trying to figure out his movements and when you finally do, when you finally become one, you’re on the brink of another orgasm.

“Pedro,” you pant as your fingers keeping applying pressure on his back. You look up and into his coffee colored eyes.

Pedro has kept his eyes looking down at you. Taking in the way you strain your neck and moan lowly at him inside of you. He takes pleasure in knowing he is the one making you cum, giving you endless amounts of pleasure with his cock, his mouth, his hands.

You reach up and touch his cheek, you stroke it lightly with your thumb. Looking at him with lust, looking at him with love. Looking at him and seeing only him, thinking of only him. Thinking he is the one for you. You swallow as you travel your thumb over his lips. He is becoming your world, the air you need to survive.

Pedro slows his thrusts to take in the look you are giving him. That look is for him and him alone. He captures your hand in his and strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. He then kisses your inner wrist, he feels you shiver at the intimate gesture, at feeling his fuzz against the delicate skin along your inner wrist.

“Y/N,” Pedro breathlessly whispers.

“Pedro,” you whisper back before pulling him down for a light kiss.

Pedro smiles as he pulls back and thrusts into you and explodes inside of your pussy. He feels you orgasm as well, feels your pussy milking him as your orgasm around his cock.

Pedro wraps his arms around you as he moves to his side. He pulls you up against him as he nuzzles your neck and inhales your scent. He can smell a hint of coconut and vanilla along with his sandalwood cologne. Pedro’s possessive as he captures your mouth with his.

You kiss him in return, one hand running through his hair while the other is pressed against his chest. You’re able to feel his heart under your palm. His heart is steady whereas yours is still coming down from the pleasures you and Pedro had shared.

Pedro pulls faintly away, runs a finger over your soft and swollen lips. “Y/N.”

You hum and raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

“If someone told me to choose what’s the most beautiful being in the universe it would be you. The sun, our planet, the billions of dazzling stars could never compare to you.”

You heart swells at his words. You’ve fallen headfirst into the deepest ravine, and there’s no chance of you ever wanting to climb out. 

[ryvswb]

RYvsWB PSA:

Corvid-19

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

*RvB guitar jingle plays as the screen fades into Ruby and Simmons, standing in Valhalla*

Ruby: Hiiii! I'm Ruby Rose, from the popular web series RWBY!

Simmons: And I'm Dick Simmons from the same sho-wait a minute...

Ruby: Today, we are here to deliver a very important public service announcement, about Corvid-19...the horrible pandemic that causes all those infected to be hunted down by a murder of 19 crows!

Simmons: Indeed! And we are here to- wait hold on! What was that about crows??? I'm pretty sure thats not how the Corvid-19 virus works Ruby.

Ruby: Yes it is! Its called "Corvid"! Thats the fancy scientific name for crows Simmons! DUH.

Simmons, as the cawing of multiple crows can be heard in the distance: Ruby that doesn't make any fucking sens-HOLY SHIT!

Simmons, running away as he is attacked by crows: AHHHHHH HELP I AM BEING ATTACKED BY A MURDER OF 19 CROWS AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

Ruby, watching Simmons run away: Huh. Guess he was infected.

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

*WE ARE HAVING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES PLEASE STAND BY*

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

Ruby: Hi! I'm Ruby Rose from the popular web series RWBY!

Washington, as Simmons can be seen screaming while still running away from the murder of crows in the background: And I'm Agent Washington from the popular web series Red vs Blue!

Ruby: And we are here today to give you 5 steps to survive the Corvid-19 epidemic!

Washington, as a picture of a man washing his hands appear next to him: The first and honestly most important step is...hygiene!

Ruby: Obviously you don't want to catch the virus. And if you already have it, you gotta make sure you don't infect other people!

Washington: Wash your hands, use hand sanitizer and wear a mask if possible! All those things will prevent you from catching or spreading those nasty germs!

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

*Jumpcut to Grif walking out of the bathroom, the sound of a toilet flushing can be heard*

Carolina, the barrel of her gun right in Grif's face, speaking through gritted teeth: I didn't hear you wash your hands Grif.

Grif, walking backwards back into the bathroom without a word:...

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

Washington: Step 2: Stay. Calm.

Ruby: Panicking will only make everything worst!

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

*Jumpcut to a city, where is everyone running around in panic as countless crows fly all over the place*

Jaune, running in circle while holding his head: PANIC! PANIC! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIIIIIIIIIIIE!

Sarge, knocking Jaune aside with the butt of his shotgun: OUT OF THE WAY SCUMBAG!

Sarge, shooting in random directions: ALL MAN FOR HIMSELF! ONLY THE STRONGEST MAY SURVIVE!

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

Ruby: Step 3! Social distancing!

Washington: Thats to make sure the virus doesn't spread. Stay in your homes as much as possible. And avoid large gatherings.

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

Donut, walking towards Blue base: Heya blues! I ran out of almond milk for my afternoon latte! Do you guys have any?

Donut, as a bullet flies past his head: HOLY JESUS!

Church, from the top of Blue base: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BASE REDS!

Donut: Oooooooh riiiiiight, I forgot. Gotta practice social distancing because of the pandemic! Thanks Chur-HEY wait a darn minute! You're an AI! Why would you be afraid of the Corvid virus?

Church: Virus? Pandemic??? What are you on about? I don't need a pandemic to have a reason to keep your dumb asses away from me.

Church, as he shoots at Donut again, causing the latter to run away screaming like a girl: Now fuck. OFF.

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

Washington: Step 4: Since you'll be in your house for a long time, you'll have to make provisions.

Ruby: But remember to not get greedy! Think about the other people who might need food and hygiene products more than you do!

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

Blake, talking to the cashier in a grocery store, her shopping cart full of tuna cans: What. Do you MEAN "ONLY TWO OF EACH PER CUSTOMERS"!?!?

Cashier, shaking like a leaf: B-but mam thats the rule I can't make exceptions...EEP!

Blake, grabbing the cashier by the collar: You don't understand. I. NEED. My. Tuna.

Cashier, straight up panicking: M-mam you're holding the line!

Blake: I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!

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

Washington: And finally, step 5: Be there for each other.

Ruby: These are hard times we're going through and some of your loved ones might be taking it harder then you would. So make sure you support them in their time of need.

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

Caboose, standing on the edge of a building: OH MY GOD! THESE ARE HARD TIMES WE'RE GOING THROUGH! AND I'M TAKING IT HARDER THEN OTHERS WOULD! IF ONLY SOMEONE COULD SUPPORT ME IN MY TIME OF NEED!

Tucker, at the bottom of the building with Weiss, absolutely freaked out: CABOOSE GET THE FUCK DOWN FROM THERE!

Weiss, pleading: PLEASE TELL US WHATS WRONG!

Caboose, shouting towards the sky: THE GROCERY STORE! RAN OUT! OF OREOS!!!

Tucker, annoyed: You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Weiss, running her hands down her face: Bloody hell...

Tucker: WE'LL GET YOU DOUBLE STUF NOW GET. THE FUCK. DOWN.

Caboose:...

Caboose: Can we get a family pack?

Tucker, dismissively: Yeah sure.

Weiss, at Tucker: WHAT!? No! He'll just eat the whole thing within an hour and throw up!

Caboose, shouting towards the sky again: OH MY GOD! HOW WILL I SURVIVE WITHOUT MY OREOS! WOE IS ME!?!?

Weiss: OKAY FINE YOU'LL GET YOUR SODDING OREOS!

Caboose: YAY! THIS IS THE BEST DAY! EVER!

Caboose, jumping off the building: Ok coming down.

Tucker and Weiss, at the same time: CABOOSE!!!!

Caboose, landing safely with his jetpack: Yes thats my name, you sure love yelling it.

Weiss, wheezing and clutching at her chest: You...you had a jetpack.......this......this ENTIRE TIME?

Caboose, casually: Yeah? How did you think I got up there in the first place?

Tucker, at a loss for words: We thought you were....what were you......we though you were going to commit suicide!

Caboose: Nah I don't like Swiss cheese. I just wanted to send a complaint to little Jesus about the store running out of Oreos, but everytime I try calling heaven on the phone I always get answered by some weird lady and then Church gets really mad at me...

Tucker, walking away: What is my life.

Caboose, as Weiss passes out: Weiss? Weiss its not nap time yet silly! The big burning ball in the sky means it dayyyytiiiiiiime. Weiss?

Caboose, crouching next to an unconsious Weiss as the camera zooms out: HELLO? Weiss? Can I get my Oreos now??? WEIIIIIIIIIIIIISS?

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

Washington: And thats all the time we got! We hope out tips and advices helped you.

Ruby, as a familiar hand taps her on the shoulder: And remember to stay saf-Oh? OH UNCLE!

Ruby, hugging Qrow: Were have you beeeeeeeeeeen!

Qrow, as Ruby breaks the hug: Hey squirt! I'd love to catch up buuuuut...

Ruby: Buuuuut?

Qrow, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck: I'm...sorry to be the one to break it to you, but your friend over here caught Corvid-19...

Washington: WHAT!? How would you even know that!? I've been standing out here this whole time and not a single crow as attacked me.

Qrow, whispering at Ruby: Are you going to tell him?

Ruby, whispering back: What!? No you tell him!

Washington, loosing his patience: What!? Tell me WHAT!?

Qrow: I know because my name is Qrow.

Washington:...You're kidding me right?

Qrow, relunctantly drawing Arbinger as 18 other iterations of himself gather behind him: I wish I was...

Washington:...

Washington, taking a deep breath trough his nose before speaking: Oh boy.

*The RvB guitar jingle starts playing, jumpcut to an overview of Valhalla, Washington screaming as he is being chased by 19 Qrows*

Washington, his voice echoing from afar as the screen fades to black: WHY IS YOUR NAME SPELLED WITH A Q!?!? OW OW OOOOOOOOWWWW!!!