#i made this last week but have been reluctant to post it

[girlgenius1111]

Just Admit It

part 2 of do you need me!!

does it count as proofreading if I scrolled through it really fast before posting?

Falling asleep in Alexia's arms seemed to be a cure all- you'd woken up a few hours later and the pain in your head had dulled significantly. Alexia was just so relieved that you were feeling better, and didn't want to ruin your good mood by bringing up how you'd acted earlier. So, even though your reluctance to allow her to take care of you worried her deeply, she let it go, vowing to keep a close eye on you.

You wished that that had been the end of it. It should have been; your migraines were normally really rare. You'd never had more than one in the span of a few months, normally going a while in between episodes. Which was why you just dealt with them; they weren't a common enough occurrence for you to go to a doctor or something.

You must have been extra stressed, though, which you knew was the cause of your migraines. Between a hectic club schedule, and an insane international one, you were exhausted. Seeing how stressed Alexia was only made you feel worse, until you were a walking ball of anxiety going into the holiday break.

You and Alexia had just played last game of the year, a champions league group stage game, extremely ready to relax. It seems your relaxation time came a little late, though, because you felt the beginnings of a migraine starting to pulse in your brain on the drive home.

You were determined to keep this one to yourself. What had happened a couple weeks ago, letting Alexia see you in that state, could not happen again. Even if she told you she didn't mind. Even if she'd specifically asked you to tell her the next time you didn't feel well. You just couldn't. You kept quiet all the way home, heading inside and immediately curling up on the couch while Alexia sat next to you.

Alexia wasn't stupid, and she knew you very well. She knew you weren't feeling well, could tell from your silence in the car; normally you'd be all hyper after a game, changing the song every other minute and talking nonstop about whatever came to your mind. She loved hyper-post game y/n, who always managed to bring a smile to her face, no matter what mood she was in. Your lack of energy in the car was concerning, as was your behavior upon arriving home. Normally, the two of you picking dinner consisted of you going back and forth until one of you was so hungry that you just agreed to something you didn't want. Alexia pulled out her phone, prepared to start listing ideas, expecting this to take a while.

"What about sushi?" She suggested, half joking because you really didn't like sushi, and would normally complain about having to pick something random off the menu.

"Sure." You responded quietly, and Alexia's head raised to look at you, thinking she must have heard wrong.

"Okay... do you want fried rice?" she asked, eyes studying you closely.

"I'm actually not that hungry, I'll probably just make a sandwich or something" you replied, and Alexia's eyebrows rose even farther up on her face. Ordering food out was... your favorite thing. Choosing to eat something from home instead of getting something from a restaurant was unheard of. She had half a mind to check you for a fever, but she was already suspicious that your head was hurting.

She took in your appearance, really looking at you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if allowing your eyes to be open all the way was too much. You unconsciously rubbed your left temple with your finger, and your jaw was completely clenched. It was clear that you were in pain. Alexia set her phone down, scooting a little closer to you.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, bracing herself for your response. Sure enough, your whole body tensed, and she watched your face as all traces of discomfort were wiped away.

"I'm fine, just tired." You assured her, not really aware of how aware she was of how you were feeling. Alexia decided to push, just a little.

"If you're sure. You can tell me if you're not feeling well, cariño. I won't be mad." Her voice was soft, as if she was talking to a cornered animal, and you were suddenly fighting the inexplicable urge to cry. You want to tell her, you really did, but you couldn't. You didn't want to be too much, and you'd already been far too weak in front of her before. You forced yourself to meet her eyes, willing yourself to not feel anything as you took the love and worry she held on her face.

"I'm fine, amor, seriously." You responded, fighting to keep your voice steady. You were careful not to promise anything, not wanting to break it. You were fine. Your head hurt, and the lights made your eyes ache, and the room was starting to spin lightly whenever you moved your head, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You gave Alexia a half smile, and she sighed, smiling back. You could tell she didn't really believe you.

If you were going to be stubborn, you could be stubborn. Alexia was dead set on you coming to her this time, on forcing you to realize that you needed her, and that was okay.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Alexia put on some random reality show that she insisted she only watched for you, even though she'd let out comments like, "well maybe if you weren't such a douche, derek, everyone wouldn't hate you" completely unprompted. You promised her you'd eat after the episode ended, her food arriving in the middle. Instead, the credits played, and you avoided her eyes as you spoke.

Standing up only slightly unsteadily, you said, "I think I'm gonna go to bed Ale, I'm really tired." The pain in your head had only intensified and you were desperate to escape to your bedroom where you could hide your tears in the pillow. Alexia looked up at you with surprise and concern.

"You haven't eaten anything, y/n, and it's only 8:00."

"I know, I'm really not hungry though. Goodnight baby, I love you." You didn't even kiss her goodnight as you headed to bed, knowing that if you tried to bend over to do so, you'd probably end up face down in her lap. She looked after you, bewildered. She really couldn't understand why you were so reluctant to tell her that you weren't feeling well.

You changed into pajamas and curled up under the covers, surprisingly finding yourself rather sleepy. Your head hurt, a lot, but somehow you felt yourself drifting off.

Alexia tried to stay up till a normal time, but she couldn't resist climbing into bed with you. At least in your sleep, you couldn't push her away from you. So, at 9, she headed into the bedroom, finding you asleep, head buried in her pillow instead of your own. She smiled, taking in the sight of you completely dressed in clothes from her side of the dresser. She was tempted to pull clothes from your side of the dresser as revenge, but instead settled on a pair of her own shorts, and the stupid fuzzy sweatshirt you loved. She didn't like wearing it, and she hated sleeping in it, but the look on your face when she put it on last time, as if you'd maybe begun to understand a fraction of the love that Alexia had for you, was enough to get it on her tonight.

She slid into bed next to you, fitting herself into the small space you'd left her when you'd taken over her pillow. You had the hood of one of her hoodies pulled up, and under it your face was flushed, you looked warm, so she carefully pulled the hood down, allowing fresh air to hit your face and hopefully cool you down. You grumbled slightly, shifting over until you were practically laying on top of your girlfriend. Alexia held in a laugh, and snuggled into you. She felt sleep tugging at her, and she hoped when you both woke up in the morning, you'd feel better.

-----

You didn't. You woke up only a few hours after Alexia had come to bed, in blinding pain. Your head had never hurt this bad before, no migraine had every felt this intense. You knew you should do something, wake Alexia up probably, but you really couldn't move. You were laid on top of Alexia, head tucked into her neck. She was sound asleep, one arm wrapped around you, holding you securely against her. You tried to shift, just a little, but the slight movement intensified the pain in your head, until you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You couldn't stop the tears, though, and they fell steadily onto Alexia's neck.

Alexia woke to the sensation of something wet on her neck. She was incredibly groggy, and she just barely registered that you were laying against her.

"Why is my neck wet?" She grumbled, speaking in her normal voice, although much more garbled than normal. At the volume of her voice in your ear, you let out a whimper of pain, unable to contain it.

Alexia was fully awake in a second, remembering that you'd gone to bed not feeling well, the sound you'd just made alerting her to the fact that you were silently crying into her skin. She didn't move though, only starting to rub your back softly.

"Hey, bebé, what is it?" she cooed, keeping her voice at a whisper. You didn't respond, shoulder still shaking with silent cries, and she grew even more concerned. "Please tell me what's wrong, I can't help unless you tell me," she pleaded.

The desperation in her voice got to you, and you managed to roll yourself off of her, onto your back, with minimal sounds of discomfort. Alexia rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at you. She kept her touch feather light as the pads of her fingers lightly wiped away the tears on your face.

"Open your eyes for me, please?" You did as she asked, thankful for the darkness. Your face was screwed up with pain, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Now tell me what's hurting," she said, because there was no question you were in pain.

Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at Alexia, trying to find the words to express what was going on.

"M-my head," you told her, voice breaking as you spoke through your tears. "Migraine. Really bad."

"Oh, bebé, I'm so sorry. What can I get you? Medicine? An ice pack? Anything," she seemed so eager to help, to fix it, and you felt even worse about what you were about to say.

You'd never felt this bad before. You could barely think. What few thoughts you could form, all told you that you needed to go to the hospital. You knew once the words were out of your mouth, Alexia would freak out, and there'd be no going back. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, before speaking.

"Ale, you need to take me to the hospital." She was silent for a few moments, and you opened your eyes again to look at her. The fear painted across her face was horrifying.

Your words stunned her. For you, stubborn, independent you, to tell her she needed to take you to the hospital, you must have been in indescribable pain. She allowed herself to panic for only a moment, before she took a deep breath, and burst into action.

"Okay, hospital, I can do that. Should I call an ambulance?" She tried to sound more put together than she felt.

"No, too loud. Drive me?" You were back to speaking in half sentences. She would drive you, she really would, but she took one look at her hands, shaking uncontrollably in panic, and she knew she shouldn't get behind the wheel of the car. Maybe she should have been better in a crisis, maybe she would have been if it had been anyone else. But it was you, and you were her weakness. She didn't want to worry you, though, and she knew if she said she was panicking too much to drive, you'd worry, even in this state.

"Okay mi amor, let me change, and we'll go." You mumbled an agreement, and she climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone. She headed into the closet, shutting the door behind her before flicking the light on. She dialed quickly hoping to god that Mapi had her ringer on.

"This better be good Putellas, I swear." Mapi's voice came over the line, grumpy and harsh.

"Mapi, I need you to drive me and y/n to the hospital." Alexia felt tears pricking her eyes, and she blinked them away, knowing she needed to keep it together.

"Por qué?!" Mapi responded, sounding much more awake. Alexia heard shuffling over the phone, and a yelp that was probably Mapi waking Ingrid up.

"She has a migraine and she said it's really bad and she needs to go to the hospital."

"She asked to go?" Mapi sounded surprised.

"Si."

"Shit, okay we're coming now, we'll be there in a couple minutes." Like Alexia, Mapi recognized how bad you must have been feeling if you had asked to go to the hospital. Neither of them had ever been so grateful to live so close to each other before.

Alexia headed back into the bedroom, having changed while on the phone into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Mapi's coming to drive us, she'll be here in a minute. I'm gonna pick you up to carry you to the car now, vale?" She whispered the words against your forehead.

You replied with a soft, "Okay," pain lacing your voice. You didn't care that Alexia had called Mapi, you didn't care about anything as long as you didn't have to go in an ambulance with the sirens on. As carefully as one would pick up a newborn baby, Alexia gathered you into her arms, holding you tight against her, carrying you out of the room and to the front door. It opened right as she got to it, and Ingrid was standing in front of her, spare key in hand, hair sleep tousled, but looking alert.

"Take her to the car, I'll grab your wallet and keys," Alexia nodded, sliding on shoes before heading out the door, thanking the universe that she had such good friends. Mapi was waiting by car, pulling the door open, wordlessly helping Alexia slide into the backseat. You sat sideways on Alexia's lap, head tucked back into her neck as your tears hit her skin over and over. You clung to her tightly, hands fisted in her shirt, as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing loudly. The walk to the car had been enough to almost make you pass out, but you'd held on to consciousness.

Ingrid climbed into the front seat then, quietly telling Alexia she'd locked the door behind her. Mapi pulled the car out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror every so often, studying your form curled up against Alexia. She'd never seen you like this, and she'd never seen Alexia this panicked either. Ingrid was thinking the same thing, and she reached a hand back, giving Alexia's knee a squeeze.

"Everything is gonna be fine, the doctors will know what to do, they'll fix her up fast." Ingrid kept her voice low and reassuring. Alexia nodded, slightly frantically, holding you tighter against her.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, Mapi taking care to drive as carefully as possible, since every jerk the car made caused a whimper of pain to spill from your lips. Alexia paid no attention to the dark city passing her by, her only focus on you in her arms.

Mapi pulled the car right up in front of the doors to the emergency room, and Ingrid was flying out of the car, opening up the door and helping Alexia get you out. Mapi drove off to park the car, while Ingrid walked the two of you inside. Luckily, it was pretty empty, and the nurses ushered Alexia to put you down on a bed in a room almost instantly. She explained the situation, as you were clearly in too much pain to speak, and the nurses were nodding, hooking you up to all sorts of things, before telling Alexia to wait in the waiting room until they had run some tests.

She hesitated, looking desperately at you. You looked so small in the hospital bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the harsh lights, hands balled into fists. There were 5 people working over you, all seemed calm and not worried, but Alexia still had to fight the urge to climb into the bed with you, and pull you into your arms until you stopped crying. She felt a hand on her arm, tugging her into the hallway.

"C'mon. She'll be okay, you need to let them work though." Ingrid stated, encouraging Alexia to follow her out into the hall. With one last look at you, she let Ingrid pull her out of the room and walk her back to the waiting room. They found Mapi there, arguing with the nurse at the desk, trying to figure out where you went.

Alexia took a seat in a chair, sighing heavily, and burying her face in her hands. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look, taking seats on either side of their captain. Mapi rested her hand on Alexia's back, and was startled when she heard Alexia sniffle into her hands.

Ingrid rolled her eyes at the look on Mapi's face, who looked completely stunned to see her best friend crying. Sure, Alexia never cried, ever, but this situation definitely warranted it.

"She's gonna be fine, Ale. She's in a lot of pain, but thats how migraines work. They'll give her something for it, make sure nothing else is going on, and discharge her." Ingrid told her, clearly trying to make Alexia feel better.

"She's right. Y/n has had a stressful month, this is just her body reacting to it. She'll be fine." Mapi continued, pulling herself together enough to comfort her friend.

Alexia lifted her head then, and both other girls wanted to cry themselves at the look on her face.

"I've never seen her in that much pain before. And for her to ask me to take her to the hospital, she must have been in so much pain." Alexia's voice was shaking when she spoke, wiping her face with her hands to rid it of tears. Mapi and Ingrid looked at her sympathetically.

"I know, but they've probably already got her all drugged out, she's probably not even in any pain anymore. She's funny on pain meds, remember when she got her wisdom teeth out?" Mapi tried to lighten the mood. Alexia smiled slightly, remembering how goofy you'd been. Her friends had helped, she felt marginally better.

And Mapi was right. The doctors had ruled out any serious brain issues, and given you a nice big dose of painkillers. You felt the ache in your head fade as you yourself drifted off again. Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped they'd let Alexia back soon, and that she'd brought the fuzzy sweatshirt she wore to bed, because you were kind of cold.

-----

When you woke, it took you a few minutes to remember where you were. Your brain felt heavy, but not in the painful way it had before. You tried to blink your eyes open, but they weren't really cooperating yet. You tried to bring a hand up to rub at them, only to find that you couldn't move your right arm at all. Using your left hand, despite the IV, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, and cracked them open. You looked down to see what had taken your arm hostage, and found Alexia passed out on it. Her cheek was smushed up against your sheets, both arms wrapped around your one, while her hand somehow held tightly to yours.

You were suddenly overwhelmed; by both the love you felt for the girl laying at your bedside, and the love you felt from her. Tears sprung to your eyes again, and you sighed, slightly annoyed with the amount you'd been crying recently. She stirred at the slight sound you made, eyes blinking open, slightly confused, before she shot straight up in her seat. Her hands released yours, and they hovered frantically over you, as her mouth opened and closed. She was groggy from sleep, and alarmed that you were crying, and her brain was not moving fast enough to decide on a course of action. It would have been funny if she hadn't looked so panicked.

She found her voice then, raising her hands to cradle your cheeks. "Are you in pain? Why are you crying? I should call the doctor, let me find a nurse," her words came out a mile a minute, and you smiled at her, placing your hands over hers.

"Relax, amor. I'm not in pain, sit back down." She looked at you doubtfully, slowly sitting back in her chair.

"If you aren't in pain, why are you crying?" She asked. She was surprised when you blushed, no longer meeting her eyes.

"I just woke up and you were here with me, and... I don't know. It was overwhelming. In a good way. I just love you, a lot." You stuttered through the sentence, before lifting your eyes to meet hers again. her gaze had softened, and you melted at the look on her face.

She pulled you in then, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. She pulled back after a minute, peppering little kisses all across your face until you were laughing, and she had cracked a smile. Quickly, though, her face turned serious again.

"Of course I was here when you woke up. Where else would I be?" She asked, seeming genuinely unsure of where else she would possibly have been.

"I don't know. You still surprise me sometimes, with how much you care. I don't always expect it." You responded. You weren't sure if you were just feeling sappy, or if the drugs were making you talk, but you found yourself overly willing to be honest with her.

"Bebé, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well last night?" She replied, eyes searching yours.

"I didn't want to bother you, you were tired too. And, I guess I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?"

You took a deep breath, picking at a stray thread of the thin blanket laying across your legs. "Worried that if I let you see me like that, all weak, you won't want me anymore. Why would you want to take care of me?"

Alexia was quiet after you spoke, and you made yourself look back up at her. She looked like she was thinking hard.

"Nothing you could ever do would be too much for me. Nothing. Not being sick, or in pain, or sad, or angry. I want you just as much then as I do when you're happy. And I always want to take care of you. You are mi niña bonita y perfecta. I want everything with you, even the stuff that isn't so fun." She spoke slowly, determined that you catch every word. "Okay?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded. "Okay. I promise to try to do better, and let you help me." You figured it was the least you could do, after the little speech she just made. A speech that made you want to run home and grab the ring you'd hidden in the back of your closet, and ask her, right then and there.

Alexia smiled, satisfied, leaning in to kiss you again. You asked her what the doctor had said, and she told you that he thought you hadn't rested enough after the last migraine, and you'd obviously been extra stressed recently. That, combined with the lack of sleep you'd been getting due to early trainings and late nights filled with... other forms of exercise with Alexia, had compounded to give you the migraine you'd experienced.

He recommended a neurologist, who could help you manage them, and also that you find a better way to deal with your stress than... not dealing with it at all. You were free to go once the drugs wore off though. Alexia made you promise to see the neurologist before she brought up the topics of visitors.

"Ingrid and Mapi are still in the waiting room. They were both pretending not to be worried but Mapi has been pacing pretty much since we got here, and Ingrid's gotten all snippy, the way she does when she's worried." You laughed, picturing the scene clearly. You told her to go get them, and she left to do so.

While she was gone, you thought about that ring in your closet again. You had big plans for it over the summer, but you wondered if maybe you couldn't wait until then. You might have to plan something sooner, or risk blurting it out while waiting for the right time. Either way, you were more sure than ever that Alexia was it for you, and more convinced that you'd ever been that you were it for her.

[cookinguptales]

So… last week I made a vent post about an accessibility issue I’d had with some podcasters. I really only meant for the post to be read by my followers (who to my knowledge aren’t familiar with the podcast in question) which is why I put minimal tags on it and didn’t name the show.

But… the post got legs that I wasn’t expecting, and eventually a lot of people asked for the name of the show. I hadn’t intended on creating a whole big thing, so I was kind of reluctant, but I did see the logic in what they were saying — as a disabled woman myself, I would also want to know if I were supporting podcasters whose values did not align with mine. So I told people quietly in the notes that the show had been Old Gods of Appalachia.

Things… did not stay quiet.

Frankly speaking, one of the reasons why I don’t write as many posts about disability and ableism these days is because I got tired of people writing to me and telling me that people like me should be dead. So you can imagine what kind of fucking week I’ve been having since all that blew up. It’s been a very high symptom week, too, so I’m just. Very tired and stressed rn.

Personally, I’d be happy to never talk about it again and try to get back to my everyday life, but I did think it was important to note that the creators of OGOA must have gotten wind of the post, and they did contact me.

I won’t post the whole email here, but it was a good response. Since seeing my post, they’d tried getting in contact with the venue and realized very quickly why I’d been so frustrated. They ended up needing to go through their booking agent to get any kind of answers — so like, to the people who sent me a thousand messages telling me I was an entitled idiot who just needed to contact the venue, please know that none of you were remotely helpful.

Again, I’m not going to post the entire email, but I did think it was important to be fair and use the same platform that I used to vent to tell people that they seem committed to doing better in the future. They told me that they would be making sure that they have all this information going forward and that they would no longer allow it to be such a barrier to entry for disabled fans.

They invited me back to the show and… god, I’ll admit it. I really had to think about my answer. Not to sound ungrateful, but after the week I’ve had, even thinking about the podcast, the podcasters, and that damn live show has me stressed af. I had to really consider whether I even wanted to go.

But in the months since I first contacted them, they added a show that’s a lot closer to where I live, so rather than a weekend trip, I could just take a single bus. And it’s near one of my favorite Japanese restaurants in the city, so if all else fails, I can at least have some good katsudon. So I will be going to the Philadelphia show.

(Though for fellow disabled fans, Terakawa Ramen is not wheelchair accessible. 🙃 Most days I can do the two steps into the restaurant, but not always. Philly, I love and loathe you.)

Anyway, I wanted to reply to them before I made a post here, but… yeah. We’ve worked things out, I think. Only the future can tell what they'll do going forward but they do seem committed to doing better.

To me, there are always two goals when I write about disability and ableism. The first is that disabled people will feel seen. That is always, always my primary goal. It’s so easy for us to feel invisible and unimportant, and I always want to make you all feel seen, just like I want to feel seen. The second is that able-bodied folks will listen and learn and do their best to support their disabled peers in the future.

So… I think that my post managed to fulfill both of those goals. A lot of disabled people have reblogged that post and have talked about their own experiences, and a lot of them have explicitly said how much that post makes them feel seen. And the podcasters in question seem to have really reflected on their actions and seem to want to do better going forward.

So as incredibly fucking stressed out as I’ve been, I guess I can’t regret making the post. It’s always good to know that your words can have impact. The post has long since moved out of my friends circle so I assume it’ll just keep circulating and I’ll keep getting shitty anons and chat messages, but I’m just gonna focus on what good has come from it. I’m hopeful that my post will make life tangibly better for at least a few disabled people, and I’m encouraged by the fact that podcasters who I’d formerly liked do actually seem to want to do the work needed to improve.

And uh I’m not answering any more messages from people who just wanna swear at me. I’m tired. Leave me alone.

[babyjakes]

darling dangers.

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event | kinktober 2022

prompt | vibrator

pairings | mean!dark!best friend!ransom drysdale and soft!dark!best friend!jake jensen x innocent!reader

warnings | non/dub-con (reader is reluctant and resistant.) ran and jake are absolutely taking advantage of reader. ran is an asshole, jake is a little better. heavy humiliation, babying, dumbification, mocking and degradation. crying kink. ransom holds reader down. pussy slapping. forced fingering and use of vibrator. heavy clit focus. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. jake is doing most of the work, ransom's just there to be mean lol.

word count | 2,312

an | um oh my godddddd, ,,, this idea has been swirling around in my brain for so long and finally, finally i get to bring it to fruition >:-)) welcome to kinktober, whores <333 also sorry if this one feels awkward or rusty? i've been writing whump for the past month so getting back into the filth felt a little clumsy :-((

As soon as you see the small black box sitting out in the open on the counter between your two best friends, both of their faces drawn in expectant expressions as they stand just waiting for you to walk in on the perfect scene they've orchestrated- you know you're in deep, deep trouble.

Ransom's crossing his arms, a small smirk forming on his face when he sees how wide your eyes have gone. Jake's giving off more disappointment than amusement, which honestly hits deeper than the twisted pleasure his counterpart's apparently finding in the whole ordeal. Gulping as you take a step forward into the kitchen, your voice betrays you by trembling as you dare to speak up. "R-Ran? Jakey? What's going on?"

"You know, it's funny, princess. We've been wondering the same thing," Ransom jests as he places a steady hand on the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he pauses to glance at the blonde standing beside him. "Right, J? We never would've imagined our precious little angel- our sweet, innocent y/n- turning out to be such a whore."

Tears prickle in your eyes at the remark; bottom lip puffing out slightly in a pathetic frown, you shake your head in defense. "N-no, don't say that. S'not true."

"Aww, look at her, Jake. Think she's gonna cry already. Go on then, sweetheart. Know you can't help it, you've always been such a sensitive little thing."

Brow stiffening in anger, you glare at the brown-haired boy. "Stop it," you whisper through your hurt and confusion. Why are they doing this to you? They're your best friends, your Ran and Jakey. What would ever drive them to humiliate you like this? You would've never seen it coming. "Wh-why were you going through my mail, anyway? You have no right."

"Well, it helped that we were expecting the package," Jake finally breaks his silence, letting out a small sigh as he crosses his own arms. "An email popped up about your order status while I was helping you fix your phone last week. Couldn't believe it, our sweet y/n, ordering from a site like that. But it looks like there was no mistake here." Turning slightly, he reaches out to pick up the little box with a single hand. Eyeing the picture on the lid, his disappointment only seems to grow as he looks back at you, "Buggy, d'you even know what these are made for? You have no business buyin' something like this; you're much too little, y/n."

Cheeks burning at your friend's patronizing words, your eyes narrow further. "Of course I know what they're made for, Jake. I... I'm not stupid, I'm a big girl. I can order whatever the hell I want," you shot back.

At that, Ransom chuckles as Jake can only manage to shake his head in further disappointment. "A big girl, huh? We'll see about that, babycakes."

Everything happens so fast, you're barely able to process it. Before you know it, the pair have whisked you away to your bedroom, Ransom laughing cruelly as he carries you over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they have you surrounded on the plush duvet of your queen-sized bed, the brunette coming up behind you to trap you in his arms. As he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, he brings you with him, pressing your back up against his broad chest as you squirm in haste. Jake approaches the two of you on his knees, the box with your new toy still clasped in his hand. Writhing a bit as Ransom tightens his grip on you, you finally find your voice. "What the fuck-? Let go of me, let me go! What are you doing? This is-"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Jake tells you sadly as your other friend eventually gets a good enough hold on you to overpower your resistance. "This is for your own good, y/n. You need'ta learn not to mess around with these things. It's not safe for a little girl like you."

"Learn? What do you mean?" you cry as Ransom's large hands come up to pry your knees apart, using his own strong legs to hold you open. As soon as you feel the cool air of the apartment hitting the thin layer of fabric covering your delicate mound, you freeze. Peering down with wide eyes, you see that your little tennis skirt has flipped up in the most unfortunate of ways, leaving your lacy pink panties on full display for everyone in the room's viewing pleasure. Heart pounding heavily in your chest, you clear your throat.

"R-Ran, Jakey... please..."

"We're not gonna hurt you, baby. Just gonna show you how dangerous these things can be, that's all. You're safe," Jake hums as he lays down on his tummy before you, scooting up between your widespread legs to come almost face-to-face with your now quivering core.

"Pink lace," Ransom snorts from behind you as his hands rest greedily on your inner thighs. "She really is a little slut, isn't she, J?"

Tears pool in your eyes as your cheeks burn in embarrassment. "P-please, please don't look," you beg, your tears earning a sympathetic frown from the blonde beneath you as he reaches out to run a tender hand over the lace of your panties.

"We're gonna be doin' a whole lot more than lookin', sweet thing," he admits as his fingers press against your dampness. "And would you look at that, someone's already gettin' wet." Squeezing out a few more tears as the man prods at your thinly-covered heat, you can only whimper in response.

"Doesn't surprise me. Bet she likes us being all rough, holding her down and spreading her open. You like that, sweetheart?" Ransom teases as he brings a hand up to cup one of your breasts over the flimsy yellow tank top you're wearing. "Never wears a bra around us, either. She's just asking to be played with." At the feeling of his cool hand slipping under your top to search for your beaded nipple, you cry out, straining against his wicked hold- but it's no use. Compared to Jake and Ransom, you're nothing in terms of size or strength. And now that they've got you where they want you, you're completely at their mercy. And you're not sure how much you can trust their promise of safety, not after all they've just done to you.

The meaner of the two laughs darkly as he finds one of the little knots of flesh, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as you cry softly to yourself. "Responsive little thing, isn't she?" he marvels as Jake takes to dealing with your panties; for a moment, he pushes them aside, but then after a few seconds of rethinking, he instead just decides to simply take the thin strip of fabric in his hands, pulling harshly until the band snaps apart completely.

"There we go," he murmurs as his eyes settle down on your dripping folds. "Such a pretty little pussy you've got, sunshine. It's a shame you didn't decide to share sooner."

Looking down over your shoulder to take his own peek, Ransom groans at the sight of your untouched petals. "Fuck, y/n. You've been keeping that all to yourself? Bet no one's ever done anything like this to you before. This your first time, princess?" Your words only continue to fail you as you lower your head in shame, your response giving the two boys all the answers they need. "Well too bad it has to be wasted on a punishment. Dumb little girl thought she could order a big girl toy- these things aren't made for you, baby. You're gonna realize that very quickly."

Pulling his hands away to fiddle with the box, Jake takes his time removing the little blue bullet from its packaging. The friends were smart enough to make sure to charge it before their little ambush, meaning they now have the benefit of its full battery life to spend on teaching you your little lesson. "Here it is," Jake hums, clicking it on carefully to the lowest speed. "Now sweetheart, I'm gonna give you one chance to get yourself outta this," he bargains.

That catches your attention. Raising your weary gaze to meet the blonde's soft set of eyes, you nod reluctantly. "I want you to show me and Ran exactly what you were gonna do with this thing. Want you to use it just like how you were planning when you bought it. And if you're honest with me- with us, and show us everything it was gonna do for you, we'll let you go."

Blinking, you take a moment to think. It's a good offer, you will admit, and he even seems genuine about keeping his end of the deal if you follow through with it. But there's a part of you that just can't bear the thought of demonstrating the crude acts you were intending on performing with the toy, at least not to your two best friends in the entire world. He left it unsaid, but it was implied: Jake wants you to make yourself cum for them. And you just can't do it, you know you can't. So you decide to do the only other thing you can think of: play stupid and pray they buy it.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. Shifting a little, Ransom releases one of your hands, still holding your breast hostage beneath his fingers, almost as an impending threat. Watching you carefully, Jake hands you the buzzing bullet, the strength of the toy's vibrations causing your hand to tingle ticklishly as you suck in a deep breath.

"Go ahead, cutie. Show us," Jake encourages.

Trying to keep your hand from shaking, you brace yourself as you bring the object down between your legs, searching a little to find your glistening hole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push in, letting the low rumble of the vibrator settle into your core.

"Alright, that's enough," Ransom snaps, causing you to jump as Jake rips the toy from your heat and grasp. "Stupid fucking baby, that was a big mistake. Are you really too dumb to know where it goes? Or do you just want us to punish you?"

Shaking his head in disappointment, Jake sighs heavily. "Good girls don't lie, y/n," he states harshly as Ransom resecures both of your arms down against your back before reaching between your legs to land a few forceful slaps against your bare pussy.

You sob at the sting, gasping as his hand comes up to pull back the hood of your clit. "Give it to her, she was asking for it," he nods to Jake.

Turning up the toy a few clicks, the blonde focuses in his gaze on your little bundle of nerves as he gently collects some of your wetness on the twitching head of the tool before easing it up against your button, earning a strained gasp from you as your whole world's set on fire. The burning is unlike anything you've ever experienced, heat blooming in your core as you burst into more tears at the sensation. Shaking his head knowingly, Jake's voice is full of disappointment as he chastises you, "I gave you a chance, y/n, but you either lied to me, or you're just way dumber than I ever imagined."

"Look at all those tears," Ransom all but moans as he twists and pulls at your nipple, grinding subtly into your back as he holds you down for Jake's torment. "Keep it right on the head, pal- don't cut her any slack. What's the matter, sweetheart- huh? That too much for you? I thought you were a big girl who could handle big girl toys. Of course you're not," he laughs darkly, only egged on by the feeling of you writhing against him, "you're just a stupid little baby who needs to be taught a lesson."

"Think she's learning pretty quick," Jake comments as he practically drools at the sight of your wetness leaking out onto the bed beneath you. Using his free hand, he gently eases a finger into you, curling up gently to rub at your soft, spongey ceiling as your eyes roll back in horrific pain and pleasure.

"Please, please..." you're reduced to mere sobs as you feel the pressure of your orgasm building up more and more in your tummy. "Please, n-no-... wait-... stop-..."

"There it is. C'mon, baby. Cum for us, it's okay," Jake coos as he twirls the head of the bullet over your swollen clit. "That's it, there you go," he sighs with a small smile as you're forced over the edge, your back arching painfully as you squirt out onto his waiting hands.

"Fuck," Ransom curses from behind you, his cock bulging needily at the sight of you being forced to cum. "She's a fucking squirter, would'ya look at that. Better than anything I was dreaming of," he groans as your little toes twitch from the overstimulation, your sobs growing louder as you come down from your high.

"P-please, please, no more!" you hiccup, the continued vibrations against your now engorged button enough to bring you to your knees.

"You think she's learned her lesson, Ran?" Jake asks doubtfully, already knowing what the answer will be as he stretches you open to add a second finger before turning up the bullet another few notches.

"No, I don't think we're anywhere near finished," the brunette responds cruelly as he slaps his hand down a few times against your throbbing heat before pulling back on your lips again to spread you out once more. "She needs at least one more, maybe two. Gotta really show her how dangerous that little thing can be."

[annerbhp]

So who remembers the Four Seasons Landscaping press conference debacle of November 7th, 2020? You know, the one held across the street from the sex shop. And the endless memes after of “imagine your OTP: who owns the landscaping company and who owns the sex shop”?

Well, yeah, I wrote this thing for it a long while back. And yes, of course I made Harry work at the sex shop and Ginny at the landscaping company. Decided I should just schedule it to post on the next November 7th. Enjoy!

Come Again (Harry/Ginny, meet-cute, Harry works at a sex shop, bad flirting, Ginny’s into it anyway, non-magic world, Teen, no content warnings. Other than, you know, sex shop inventory!)

Harry glances up from his magazine at the sound of the shop door opening. He cursorily looks over the customer—young woman, mid-twenties, red hair, short, athletic build—before returning his attention to the magazine. He’s noticed most customers don’t particularly like the feeling of being watched. Some people flee immediately upon catching him watching them. Especially women.

Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he can see her slip down the aisle furthest from the cashier counter, the one full of costumes and larger objects far too difficult for anyone to steal.

“Harry?”

He looks over at Tara near the breakroom at the back where she’s pulling on her coat. “Are you off?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Are you sure it’s okay if I take Tuesday morning off?” She’s biting at her lower lip, as thinking his offer was somehow a trap. He wonders what kind of shit she had to put up with at her last job. Or it could just be him. Maybe she’s still trying to get used to him as their manager or something.

“Yes,” he says, forcing his voice patient. “Go get your tooth looked at. I’ll cover the shift, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she says in a rush. She glances over, catching sight of the ginger. “Want me to cover this one before I go?”

“I’ve got it,” he says, and it occurs to him that maybe she’s more nervous about leaving him to do the shift on his own than she is that he’s going to get mad at her for taking the time off.

He’d be offended by that if he hadn’t spent the last three weeks completely in over his head. But he’s starting to get the hang of it now.

Tara waves and leaves out the back.

“So you’re the owner then? You don’t look like a Luna.”

He turns to find the customer standing in front of him. He glances at the big sign out front declaring this store as Luna’s sex toys and more store.

“What? Oh,” he says. “No. I’m just filling in for her for a few months. She’s out on maternity leave. Twins.”

“Ah, so you’re just the understudy,” she says.

“Something like that.”

Pull yourself together, Potter.

“Then you’re…” She waves a finger around in a circle, encompassing the whole store. “In the business?”

He laughs. “No.” He realizes a moment too late how bad that sounded, and rushes on. “She was going to have to shut the shop down or cut her time home, but I’m between careers at the moment, so I figured I could cover for her.” He has no idea why he is spilling his life story out at her, and he considers that maybe Tara had seen what he hadn’t when she’d been so reluctant to leave him on his own. “It’s been a bit of a learning curve, I admit. Though mostly it seems to be about putting customers in categories and treating them accordingly.”

Her eyes narrow, as if sensing an insult towards the kind of people who might come to a shop like this. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“No,” he says, desperately trying to backpedal. “It’s just… Look. It’s like setting expectations? There’s people who come for joke gifts, the people who pretend they are here for joke gifts because they are too embarrassed to want to buy something, the people who know exactly what they want and get right to it, and the people who are here because of rebounds. Each kind of person would prefer to be treated differently: ignored, helped, given stern looks. So it’s just about figuring out which kind of customer they are, so I can make this easiest for them.”

The customer is now frowning at him. “You know that still sounds kind of creepy, even if it makes sense.”

“Studying people is kind of my thing.”

She only looks more alarmed.

“Not in a creepy stalker way! Or in a ‘I want to draw your picture’ way. I was a profiler. You know, criminals?”

“Ah, so now the customers are criminals.”

He would think he just can’t win with this maniacal customer, but she was smiling now, clearly teasing him. “Only if you try to walk off with Gary shoved down your shirt,” he gamely replies.

She turns to follow his gesture, letting out a low laugh at the sight of an enormous oversized novelty cock with a face on the tip. It’s not a ‘I’m nervous and about to break down into a fit of giggles’ laugh either, so Harry is pretty sure this is a customer who won’t mind being offered help.

“So is there anything in particular I can help you find?” he asks.

“You tell me.”

Said in any other tone, that might sound like a come on, but it was more challenging than coy. “Excuse me?” he asks.

“Am I here for a joke gift? Profile me.”

He looks her over, eyes lingering on the details. A new sweater (he could see the strip where the sticker had been removed very recently). Her hair looked freshly cut, the way she touched it said it was not the length she was used to, maybe having cut it off recently. There was the slightest indentation on her ring finger, a faint tan line.

“You’ve recently broken off a long-term relationship, either started when you were both very young, with someone who likes vanilla sex that you found boring, or with someone who was offended by the idea of you using any toys because it felt like cheating and made you get rid of them.”

She stares back at him, eyes wide.

He said it all without thinking, really, just speaking as it came to him, these thoughts about who she was that he might come up with about a case.

“Sorry,” he says, certain he’s just cost Luna a customer. “I’m sure I’m way off.”

“No,” she says, “you’re annoyingly on-point.”

He winces, realizing that’s probably even worse.

Definitely time to try to make a tactful retreat, if at all possible. But before he can back away, she’s speaking again.

“I used to have a Shibari before he made me toss it. Any thoughts on what might be like that? Only better. And bigger. Longer battery life.”

“Uh,” he says, floundering for a moment. Then he walks over to a shelf, pointing at a slim lavender-colored wand vibrator. “I can tell you the mini halo is really popular. But Luna always says it depends on what you’re looking for, not what other people want.”

Her eyebrow lifts, and it occurs to him that he has basically just asked for detail about her sex life. Yup. It’s possible he’s out of his element. He ends up texting Luna, for some reason not wanting to lead this particular customer astray. Not just because she seems pretty great. She deserves to get what she wants after all! Everyone does!

Getting tired of the back and forth, the customer eventually just grabs his phone and texts Luna directly, debating the finer points of the Soul Sucker. The woman’s smile—stupidly lovely, really—No, not appropriate, Harry!—is wider and wider as she gets into a really long exchange with Luna. Ending with a gasp of adoration when Luna apparently texts a picture of her sons.

The text exchange eventually dies down, the customer giving Harry a bald, assessing look.

“What?” he asks, refusing to shift back and forth on his feet, reminding himself of his long career as a criminal investigator—which would mean more if he hadn’t burned out and left with no real plans for anything else he’s going to do instead. Other than manage a sex toy store, apparently.

“She wants to know how you’re doing,” the woman asks. Her eyes narrow as she studies him a bit longer, and, shit, she should consider a career as an interrogator. She nods her head, like coming to a decision and then starts typing away again, this time narrating as she does.  “Approachable, only slightly creepy, blushes at a minimum, non-judgmental, but needs an education.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not offended in the least. Actually a better rating than he’d expect. “Trust me, every day in this shop is an education.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “I can only imagine.” She hands his phone back and sweeps up the Soul Sucker and the mini halo too.

Harry helpfully points out the displays of various lubes, letting her head over there by herself as he steps back behind the counter.

A guy comes in then, picking up a pre-order which is thankfully much more straight forward, a package already put together by Tara before she left.

By the time he’s done ringing him up, the woman has made her final selections, putting them down on the counter. He scans each one, slipping them into a bag without looking at them. Not his business!

“And with the five percent break up discount, that comes to….”

“Discount?” she asks. “I don’t need your pity.”

“What?” he asks, feeling like he’s messed up yet another thing. “No, seriously. It’s a thing.” He flips the card with five different set barcodes on it, handing it over to her.

You’re better off without them! – 5% Never too late to figure out what you like! – 5% Congrats on embracing your sexual identity! – 5% You’re a few bucks short, but still deserve joy – 5%

She looks at him in surprise.

He shrugs. “Luna.”

She seems to relax then. “Which one am I getting?”

“Does it matter?” he asks.

She lets out a huff. “Guess not.” She hands over a credit card and he really does his best not to look at her name or anything, but it is sort of a part of credit safety? Or something?

Ginny Weasley. Is her name. It sounds vaguely familiar, though he can’t quite place it.

She signs the receipt, and he passes over the bag. “Have a nice day,” he says, almost automatically.

“Oh, I’d better,” she says, lifting the bag.

He really tries not to blush. He really does. Professional, Potter. Real professional.

Only then she’s giving him a wink and walking towards the door. “Let me know if you ever need help with landscaping,” she says, “so I can return the favor.” 

Harry pauses at the strange words, frowning, resisting the urge to look down at his body.

She’s definitely laughing at him now. “The landscaping company next door? Weasley’s Landscaping? It’s where I work. The family business.”

“Oh,” Harry says with a sudden rush of understanding. She works right next door. Where he will likely see her. Again. Quite often. “Right. I definitely will.” 

“Great. See you around.”

He can’t help grinning. “Come again!” he calls out after her.

He can hear her laughter as the door shuts behind her.

It takes Harry a while to realize he’s humming as he starts taking stock of the strap-ons inventory.

Just another lovely day in Luna’s shop.

[caramelberzatto]

permanent // c. berzatto

HELLO <3 here we have one serving of tattoo artist!carmy, made hot to go, fresh this afternoon!!! i may have enjoyed writing this way too much, now i just wanna book more tattoos LMAO anyway ENJOY MWAH LOVE YOU!!!!!!! carmy x gn!reader (no mention of pronouns.) - Clarke xx

“I know a guy.” That’s what your friend had told you when you’d jokingly expressed a desire to get your first tattoo. But then she’d shot the ‘guy’ a message, right then, over brunch, and you’d almost choked on your food. Now, a week later, you were sitting anxiously at the aforementioned friend’s side on a shiny, velvet couch. Fingers drumming on your knees, you glanced at the clock. Four minutes until your session was meant to start.

Through the saloon-style doors, you could hear the overlapping drone of the equipment; you were no stranger to tattoo parlours, having been the support person for many of your friends, but today would be the first time you’d be in the chair, rather than in the waiting room. And this was a new place, a few blocks east of your apartment, but apparently the artist was awesome and charged lower rates because he’d only just opened the parlour.

“How do you know this guy again?” You whispered to your friend, trying to act like you weren’t freaking out a little.

“He did my spine a couple of weeks ago, and he’s so chill. Super hot, too, so that’s a bonus. Something to focus on rather than the sting, y’know? Real nice voice.”

You swallowed, unsure if that last tidbit of information was a good or bad thing. Your friend's phone buzzed in her pocket incessantly and she picked up, excusing herself, leaving you alone in the waiting area, swallowing your panic. For a moment, you considered following her, abandoning your reluctant post by the decorative, vintage globe of the world.

“You my next one?” The doors swung open with a squeak, ruining your escape plan, revealing a man with a messy head of curls and a tragically easy smile. He held his hand out and your gaze snagged on the tattoos on his knuckles before you took it, graciously, and he pulled you up off the couch.

“I think so, yeah,” you said, trying not to let your nervousness show, relishing in the somewhat soothing warmth of his palm. 

“Awesome, just follow me through here and hop onto the second chair for me.”

You did as he asked, not even moving of your own accord, simply running on autopilot. He did have a nice voice. Goddamnit. 

You swore you could feel the thudding of the bass-heavy music through the floor as you followed him through the parlour, gaze straying to the way his muscles in his back moved beneath the tight black shirt he wore. Once you got comfortable, the man settled down on a wheeled stool, sliding closer to you.

“Alright,” he fiddled with the equipment in his station, straightening the individually-packed needleheads, sifting through a few sheets of paper with various designs on them until he found the one he was looking for. The one you’d picked out after hours of trying to decide.

“First things first, my name’s Carmen.” He paired it with another soft smirk, and it put you at ease.

“Hi,” you said, and it came out embarrassingly breathily. Clearing your throat, you adjusted your position in the chair and offered him your name. It was hard to focus on much after that.

The softness of his touch as he held your wrist, twisting it slightly, so he could place the stencil. The way he looked up at you, a quiet demand to ‘relax for me’ slipping off his tongue like honey. The closeness as he leaned in, the buzz of the needle making your heart leap into your throat. The way his brow furrowed while he focused, carefully tracing the stencilled lines.

“Remember to breathe for me, darlin’.” His voice was a murmur. A quick glance, a locked gaze, a subtle check-in to make sure you were comfortable. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, and it probably had something to do with the fact that you were completely and utterly distracted by Carmen. In fact, the sting was almost… soothing?

“Good. You’re doin’ really great, ‘m almost done.” 

He was so close, haloed by the overhead light, and you couldn’t tear your gaze from him. His hand was so steady, so careful and practised, and you found your thoughts straying to places they shouldn’t go. Slowly, you crossed one leg over the other, and you could’ve sworn Carmen bit back a smirk.

He pulled back, setting the handpiece down. “There we go.”

There it was, permanent, on your skin. Glancing down at the fresh ink, you smiled. You hadn’t thought you’d love it so much, but it just looked… good. 

“Suits you,” Carmen said, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow. “You better come back for more.”

Unable to focus, you could barely manage anything but a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I love it’ as he wrapped your arm in clingfilm, sealing it with a strip of tape. He’d drifted closer, and your knees loosely slotted together; just enough space between you to make you crave less of it.

As he walked you through the aftercare procedure, you found yourself staring at his lips, the way they curved around each word, and only the sudden ‘there you are, all tatted up!’ that announced the return of your friend snapped you out of it. Rising from the chair, blinking away the headrush after sitting for so long, you tried to ignore the searing imprint of his hand on your hip as he stood, too, steadying your stumbling frame.

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” He muttered so only you could hear it, leading you back into the waiting area so you could pay. And a sense of boldness welled up in your chest, and before you could hold them back, a string of words tumbled out. 

“Only if you want to.”

[lalal-99]

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,��� you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don’t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

Next Chapter >>> Let me know if you want to be tagged. Make sure you have an age indicator in your profile.

Masterlist Let me know your thoughts!

[that-one-p00k1e]

Coincidence?

Muichiro x Fem!Reader, lil High school AU

Warnings: none just fluff Ig Idk bro

Note: Wowzers!!😱😱 I'm still alive!!😱😱 This was a bit rushed because I wanted to post something after so long and bcs IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WHAATT🤯🤯 crazy amirite anw pls forgive the grammar and how boring this is

Nothing felt better than hearing the last bell of a school day ring, knowing that the days after were the end of the week. The heavenly images in your head of finally being able to lay in bed, cuddled up in a warm blanket after taking a good relaxing shower.

However, instead of immediately going home, you decided to head to the park near the school to have a breath of fresh air. Fortunately, it seems to be vacant with no one on sight occupying it.

The rustling of leaves blown by the wind, the smell of fresh grass and dirt, and the silence that brought the feel of peace and tranquility. But the one thing that had always caught your attention, was the cherry blossom tree planted at the center of the park. For you, it was the most beautiful sight in the park. Almost never has its beauty failed to captivate passersby.

As you decided to take a seat underneath the tree, you noticed a familiar backpack laid on the ground. Thinking it could be anyone's and not just the specific familiar person you know who owns that exact same object, you reluctantly and carefully looked to the back of the tree to see who the mystery owner was. ‘Probably a random stranger’ you easily thought. But oh how wrong you were as your heart dropped the moment your eyes settled on the known figure.

Under the falling petals of cherry blossom he sat; beautiful mint-green eyes fixated on the strings of his guitar, fingers carefully strumming a melody that could soothe one's nerves. His long black hair gently swayed in the wind, coloured ends that matched his  irises. You've always admired him since the first day of high school; managing to get a few interactions here and there through group work. As much as you wanted to get to know him better, the charming and attractive classmate had his own walls built when it comes to the social environment. Not even the guys in your class could make him crack a bit of a smile. Thus, you've accepted such defeat ever since.

But seeing him being so peaceful right now, enjoying himself in his own world, made it hard for you to bat your eyes away from him. You couldn't help but just gaze in awe at the sight of such beauty.

Until his fingers suddenly stopped playing through the guitar strings.

The moment he perked his head up, you immediately hid yourself behind the other side of the tree; heart almost stopped working. You hear him getting up, walking closer and closer to where you once stood. As your breath hitched, you tried to act cool in case the both of you went face-to-face. You hoped you wouldn't, but fate unfortunately had its own plan.

“Y/N?” a deep yet gentle voice called out to you from the side of the tree, making your heart race faster than it already had been. He looked at you with a gaze oh-so empty; making it difficult to look through that stoic disposition of his.

“Oh! Uhh… yeah, it's me. Fancy seeing you here,” you greeted awkwardly, fidgeting the hem of your shirt from the embarrassment you felt deep down.

You thought he would be reluctant to engage further in the conversation, but to your surprise, he proceeded to ask another question.

“It's your birthday today, isn't it?”

The moment his words entered your hearing, it felt as if your organs were rearranged.

“I- uhh… How did you know?”

“Heard your friends mentioning about it. Forgot to give you this.”

He rummaged through his bag, before pulling out a box wrapped in gift paper and handing it to you with that blank stare maintained.

“For you. In addition to your birthday,” he said reluctantly.

You hesitantly took the gift from his hand, internally debating if this was a dream or not. Before you could word out your gratitude, he quickly picked up his belongings and threw a short “My bus is here, gotta go,” leaving you on your own with your thoughts; trying to process what just happened. You looked down at the gift he had given you, then pinched yourself to double check reality. Yet there was one thing you didn't put your mind into.

If he recently knew about your birthday from your friends today… How did he forget a gift regarding something he had never known about in the first place?

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 5

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 7.2k

Content: depression, self-harm (cutting)

A/N: first and foremost, please read the warnings; there's literally only two and one is a pretty significant one so plleeeeasssseeee take heed!!!!!! And let me know if there's anything else I should be tagging for it. Feels too flip for me to ramble in my usual way here given the content of this chapter, so just to say be safe, and I hope you like it! Thank you to my betas @amethystwritesbts @quarter-life-crisis2 @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

Chapter Five - The other shoe

The sun was shining and birds were singing and you wished you were a character in a musical so you could burst into (tuneless) song and run across a field in a circle skirt. You hadn’t felt this good for a long, long time.  

“Looks like someone’s in a good mood,” was Taehyung’s greeting to you as you plopped down in your chair next to him. “You get laid or something?” 

You had, in fact, got laid last night. It had been even more anxiety-inducing than you had thought it would be, particularly given that Sungbin was a verified Greek god of a man and, well, your body had been through a little since the last time you were fully naked in front of someone new. You had put your body through a lot. The body keeps the score and it also shows the scars. You did not tend to keep them on display and you had hesitated and become awkward and flustered when you remembered them, when you realised he was going to see them, going to see what you had done to yourself.  

He didn’t mention them. He didn’t make it weird. He didn’t avoid them nor did he bring extra attention to them. He acted as if they weren’t there at all. Then he made you come until you were seeing stars.  

“That good, huh?”  

It had been that good. Or maybe it had just been a long time. Either way.  

“I think I’m going to fall in love with him, for real,” you said, all dreamy and moon-eyed, staring at your computer screen and seeing nothing but love hearts. 

“Girly...” Taehyung’s voice had a slight warning note but you let it wash over you. 

“I know, I know, but seriously. I feel happy, Teddy. Legitimately happy. I feel like I can see a future unfolding, a future I might actually want to live in.” 

“With Sungbin?” 

You shrugged. 

“Sure, why not?” 

He didn’t answer, not really. You could feel his reluctance; you could almost hear all the questions he wanted to ask. You let him think them. You weren’t going to let anyone burst this bubble.  

“What are we doing this weekend, chick?”  

You looked up from your desk and took the coffee cup in Taehyung’s outstretched hand. He sat down next to you. 

“What do you mean ‘what are we doing this weekend’?” 

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean “what are we doing this weekend”’?” 

“What do you mean-” 

“No, I’m serious. We always do something, but I haven’t seen you for weeks now.” 

“Teddy, we are together every day. You’re seeing me right now!” 

“That’s not the same and you know it! You’re reserving all your time for Sungbin these days.” 

“That’s not true.” 

Not entirely. He wasn’t being fair. It was true that you had seen Taehyung a little less over the past month or so but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him at all. You had someone else in your life now; you would’ve thought Taehyung would have been a little relieved to get some time back, to be honest. 

“Well, what about you?” you asked. “You’re spending all your time with the barista.” 

“Hyunjin. And I’m really not. I still have plenty of time for my other friends. For you.” 

“Are you suggesting that I’m not making time for you?” 

He shrugged.  

“I know you’re really into Sungbin right now and things are going well and that’s great. I’m genuinely fucking stoked for you and I hope that it’s everything you want it to be, but I feel a little tossed aside, yeah. Especially because I’m the one who’ll have to pick up any pieces if it goes south.” 

That hurt. Coming from Taehyung, that really hurt. 

“Why do you think it’ll go south?” 

“I’m not saying that it will but you’re honeymooning hard right now and it kind of feels like you’re putting a lot of eggs into one basket. You’re ditching me to spend all your time with a guy you’ve know-” 

“I’m not ditching you!” 

“I’m just saying you’re letting yourself be taken over by this. You haven’t seen me outside of work for ages. I know you didn’t go to therapy last wee-” 

“How do you know that?” 

“I know when your appointments are and you were posting on Instagram with a cocktail in your hand at the time.” 

“What makes you think I didn’t rearrange the session?” 

“Did you?” 

No, you didn’t. You skipped that one. Just one. That would hardly hurt. And you were feeling so happy right now, the need for therapy had receded a little, dipping past the horizon, not entirely out of sight, but almost out of mind.  

“That is exactly what I’m saying-” 

“No, what exactly are you saying? Is this about wanting to see me more or is it about telling me that me and Sungbin are going to crash and burn?” 

You could feel tears burn in your eyes and you desperately wanted not to cry. You always cried. All the time. It was exhausting and embarrassing and you were at work, right now – you didn’t have time for this.  

Taehyung’s eyes softened and this made your tears well even more.  

“I’m saying that I miss you and I’m worried. You are acting like he’s fixed you, like the only problem in your life was that you were single and now you’re not so everything must be perfect. But that’s not how things work and I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I’m not stupid,” you spat, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t think he’s fixed me. I think he likes me. And I like him. And we are together-” 

“Are you?” 

“What?” 

“Have you had that conversation? Are you together?” 

“Well-… What about you and Hyunjin? Have you had that conversation?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “We’re keeping it casual for now.” 

You didn’t like the sound of that. You hadn’t talked to Sungbin about it because you didn’t think you had to. You thought you were on the same page. Isn’t that what dating was? You dated and then, if you kept dating, you were in a relationship. It was automatic, by default. Why would you date someone if you didn’t want to keep doing it? If you didn’t imagine a relationship with the person, what was the point?  

You managed to blink your tears away but an uneasiness had settled in your stomach. What if you’d got it all wrong? Did Sungbin want to keep it casual? You didn’t. It was already too late for that. You were a goner. 

Maybe Taehyung was right. 

Was he? 

You sniffed. 

“Well maybe Sungbin and I aren’t.” 

“Does he know that?”  

Fresh tears. Anxiety. Your old friend insecurity crawling up your throat again. You should have known that this was coming, that there was a line you needed to acknowledge and either cross together or not at all. It hadn’t been like this with San because you had known each other so well before you got together, it really had been a foregone conclusion. This time, though... And there was so much Sungbin didn’t know about you, so much you knew you would have to share at some point and didn’t want to. The thought of revealing your ugliest self to him – to him, a flawless specimen of a man, inside and out, his parents’ pride, and the person you thought most about – was nauseating.  

You stood and walked off to the printers, pausing there only long enough for you to realise there was nothing you could pretend to print. Then you carried on to the kitchen, making yourself another coffee, even as the one Taehyung brought you was sitting, steaming, on your desk. 

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, sitting across from Sungbin at an outside table, running your finger up the wet glass of your iced latte. “What are you doing for Halloween?” 

He looked a little taken aback. 

“Halloween? In October?” 

“Yeah!” 

You held your palm tight against your glass, the discomfort of the cold playing distraction. You were trying to be casual about this. It was normal. Of course you’d make plans. Why wouldn’t you? You fought off the voice in the back of your head saying that you wouldn’t if you were just ‘keeping things casual’. That was why you had to ask.  

“I... have no idea yet. It’s only August.” 

“That is true, but I’ve been thinking. Teddy always has this massive party for Halloween and does costumes and everything and I would like, this year, to outdo him.” 

The party thing was true. Taehyung did throw one every year. And he did always have a good costume... You also always had a good costume, because he planned and bought it for you, but Sungbin didn’t need to know that part.  

“Wow, if he’s planning it this early, it must be big.” 

“Oh, no, he’s not yet, but I want to get a head start. Like I said, this year I think we can beat him at his costume game.” 

“We?” 

“Yeah, there are so many good couple costumes out there; it’ll make more of an impact if we do it together, right? Two is more than one etc.” 

“Right, yeah, uh... Sure.” 

“We don’t have to decide right now, but get your thinking cap on. I am going to destroy Teddy this year and you’re going to do it with me!” 

He chuckled a little and you thought this was good. Halloween was, as he suggested, months away, but he hadn’t said no. That counted for something. You ploughed on. 

“Also, what do you think to a double date?” 

“Oh. Um, who with?” 

“Teddy and Hyunjin. They actually got together the night we met! Might be fun. Also, to be honest, I really want Teddy to meet you. It’s been long enough, haha; you need his seal of approval!” 

“A test?” 

“Yep. He’s my bestie so he has to approve.” 

“Right. Yeah... Ok. You and he are really close, then?” 

“Yep. And, besides, it gets to a point where someone’s seen you have enough breakdowns that you have to keep them close: he knows too much!” 

There was a pause and you could see Sungbin considering his words. You fought the urge to move it on, to brush over it, to drop a hundred words a second to blow past it. But you also just had to... check, to let him know, to try to drip-feed him the information you, truthfully, didn’t want him to have but knew that he had to have, if this was ever going to be serious. It made you anxious, slowly revealing your brokenness to him, pushing him closer and closer to the threshold at which he might say ‘stop, that’s enough; I don’t want you anymore’. He hadn’t yet, but you’d barely begun.  

“Breakdowns, huh?” 

“Yep. Although, actually, while it was Teddy who held me together after the break-up, it was my ex who really did the heavy lifting before that.” 

Sungbin nodded thoughtfully and you didn’t know if you imagined his eyes flicking down to your thighs or not. Probably imagined. But it wasn’t like the two didn’t go hand in hand. 

“Sounds rough.” 

“It was. Both times, haha.” 

He nodded again. 

That was enough, you thought. That had to be enough disclosure for now. You could feel it pressing on you, like the oppressive summer humidity; you felt stifled by your exposure, almost a little giddy with the force of your discomfort. If this is what it was like, revealing your darkness to someone, you crossed all your fingers, hoped, and prayed that this thing with Sungbin would last so that you would never have to do it again.  

* 

You went home with him that night and there was a background buzz of something in your head, this kind of vertigo-swirling of standing too close to the edge of a cliff, an unsteadiness of foot that Sungbin was able to kiss away but which came back two-fold when you were lying naked in his bed. You tried to look at yourself, discreetly, objectively; what did you look like to him? Was he looking at you differently now, tonight, armed with new knowledge? What did he really know? What had he taken from the things you had said? You didn’t want to ask him, didn’t want to talk about it more, didn’t want to have to explain and elucidate and make explicit things that you hoped he would infer.  

He didn’t seem different, then, didn’t turn off the light or kiss you goodnight any differently from the way he had before. Maybe it was fine. Maybe your brokenness wasn’t fatal. Or so you could dream. 

“Last day, baby!” you cried when Yoongi put his bag on the counter at your very last baking session. 

“So it is,” he replied, cool as ever. 

You shoved him. 

“Be excited! We made it! We’re bakers!” 

He rolled his eyes and grinned. 

“A rather generous term for yourself, isn’t it?” 

You shoved him again. 

“How dare you? Do I need to remind you of last week’s triumph? Or should I say my triumph and your tragedy?” 

You weren’t being entirely fair. Yoongi’s buns had failed because he had taken on the risk of your illicit ingredient, allowing you to follow the recipe correctly. It was gallant, really. He even said that his buns were alright, not that bad, kind of ok which you knew without having to try them was untrue.  

“Should I remind you who is responsible for my tragedy?” 

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You grinned at each other and started unpacking your bags. It felt easy between the two of you now. Long gone was your anxiety that used to accompany Thursday evenings, that gnawing embarrassment and glowing shame that you used to feel in Yoongi’s proximity, sure that you were the worst person in the world and that he wanted to get away from you, desperate as you were for his friendship and approbation. You didn’t have to be desperate anymore, because you had it. You were friends. In the spirit of said friendship, you had agreed to celebrate your last baking class tomorrow, so you could get as drunk as you liked without having to suffer the consequences in the office. 

* 

“Generous term,” you scoffed, looking at your layered cake at the end of the session, assembled and decorated and still standing. “How very dare you. Look at what I’ve made! I’m a genius!” 

Yoongi laughed quietly and swiped a finger through the buttercream frosting on top before you could swat his hand away. He put it to his mouth. 

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” 

“Not bad!” 

You swiped a finger through the frosting on top of his cake. 

“Yours tastes like shit.” 

“Well, now you’re just being mean and I won’t let you have a slice.” 

“Fine.” You turned your back on him to put some things in your bag and then turned back. “I didn’t want to eat your shit cake, anyway!” 

“You had better be careful or I’ll bring this as dessert for tomorrow.” 

You gasped. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Yoongi turned to face you head-on, a smirk on his lips, mischief in his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t I?” 

You mirrored his expression and crossed your arms. 

���I won’t let you in my apartment.” 

“Not even for the booze?” 

You faltered. You didn’t buy the expensive shit that he did. You still fully believed that expensive alcohol didn’t give you such bad hangovers. You didn’t want to lose this spat, didn’t want to come out of the bit, but also didn’t want to say no to booze. 

“You can leave the booze on my doorstep and go.” 

Yoongi broke first and laughed loud, tipping his head back. 

“You’re spoilt,” he said. 

You sniffed haughtily. 

“I deserve nice things.” 

Then he gave you that smile that he did sometimes, warm and soft, that made you feel like a broken open caramel truffle, oozing and sweet and sticky, like the two of you were stuck together, sugary fingerprints on your skin and a brown sugar taste on your lips. It was like a secret smile, for special occasions; you wondered who else got to see it.  

“Yeah, you do,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m bringing this cake to dinner tomorrow!” 

You groaned and pretended to fall, dead, to the floor. Yoongi laughed again.  

“I mean it.” He packed the last of his things in his bag. “I’m going to bring this and you’re going to eat it and like it.” 

“Over my dead body.” 

“If I recall correctly, I do, in fact, owe you a murder, so that can certainly be arranged.” 

You both laughed this time and you could think of much worse ways to go, much worse last things to see before you died. Yoongi picked up his stuff and his cake and turned to leave. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“With bells on!” you called after him. 

You had taken the Friday afternoon off, just to make sure you had enough time to shop and prepare and, gulp, cook dinner for Yoongi who you were expecting that evening. It was a celebration of your finishing the class but it was also a sign of intention, a new set-up for this kindling friendship that didn’t have anywhere else to meet. You’d take turns: one of you would cook and one would bring dessert and you’d alternate fortnightly. You weren’t sure whether you’d got the short straw to be tasked with dinner first or if you’d rather it were this way. You got the feeling Yoongi was a good cook and you didn’t want to have to follow that, but it felt like a lot of pressure being the first to host. You felt a little embarrassed of your shoebox apartment and cheap things and you knew Yoongi would never care—you knew he would understand completely—but it made you feel a little small, that this was all you had to offer.  

Never mind, you said to yourself. He didn’t care and neither would you. It wasn't about the venue; it wasn’t even really about the food. It was about the company. It was about making a space and a time for you and Yoongi to hang out. It was about making a commitment to taking your friendship outside of its bounds and cultivating it. That was what mattered and that was all you needed to focus on.  

You were scrolling on your phone, looking for recipes when a message from Sungbin came in. 

Sungbin: hey I’m wfh today. I'm about to have lunch can you come over? 

Obviously, the answer was yes. You did your best to make yourself look presentable in a rush and hot-footed it across the river to him.  

* 

“I ordered food, hope that’s ok,” Sungbin said as he gestured to the dining table where two bags of lunch had been placed. 

“Sure! I’ll eat whatever.” 

It felt a little strained, like the world had twisted itself into an uncomfortable position, but you put it down to the fact that you had never been to his apartment during the day before. He was also working; maybe he hadn’t shrugged off his focus yet. His job was still new and still stressful and this lunch was interrupting it. He was quiet as he sat down and you felt stifled. He ate a forkful and another. Then he put his fork down. 

“Thanks for coming all this way. I really wanted to speak to you but work is really hectic so I can’t get away.” 

“Yeah, no worries! I have this afternoon off anyway, so it’s no big deal.” 

“Oh right. Good. Um.” 

You thought to yourself that you were getting good at this: letting silence reign. Maybe it was all the time you’d spent with Yoongi; maybe it was all the time you’d spent in therapy. Maybe it was a sign that you weren’t letting your anxiety run your mouth anymore – even if you really, really wanted it to. 

“I thought we should talk,” is how he began. 

“About what?” Your guts twisted as you asked. 

“I know you were talking the other day about all sorts of plans and things and I just wanted to be clear about... where we are. What we are.” 

“Oh, right.” Your voice was airy and thin, even your lungs being squeezed by this cold-creeping fear working through your body. 

“I really enjoy spending time with you and I’d like to continue that but, ah, I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t want... a relationship, y’know? I just moved here and I’m still finding my feet and getting to know everyone and everything and I don’t want to, uh, settle into anything? And I get the feeling that... you do. I didn’t want, um, wires to be crossed or uh, I didn’t want things to get complicated or- I just thought we should talk before it went on any longer. I wanted to just make myself clear. I would like to keep seeing you but I think you want... more than I do. If I’m wrong, just tell me, sorry if I’ve assumed but I, uh, just, get the feeling...” 

“Right.”  

Your eyes were already blurry with tears. Here it was. The other shoe dropping. Taehyung was right. Sungbin didn’t want you. Not really. He knew who you were and he didn’t want you. You tried to tiptoe into it; you tried to slowly heat the water in the pan but you’d overcooked it. The frog was jumping out. You wanted more. Too much. More than he wanted. He didn’t want you. He didn’t want you that much. He didn’t want your broken parts. He didn’t want your ugliness. He saw your scars and he heard of your breakdowns and he knew that was ‘more’, too much. He didn’t want to carry you. He would have to carry you if you went on for too much longer. You had to be carried because that’s who you were: you weren’t enough, not even enough to lift yourself up. All your good parts, the shiny parts, the parts you thought you had in you somewhere... It wasn’t enough.  

“It’s not-” Sungbin was trying to start again, to explain, to let you down even more gently. “I like you; I think you’re a cool person and we have fun. I just can’t commit to more than that. I don’t want to lead you on or pretend this is going somewhere it’s not. Y’know, I really appreciate you making all these plans and things but that’s just- it's really, well, it’s a bit too much for me right now. Do you know what I mean?” 

You nodded and hummed and bit your lip to stop it wobbling. Your face was burning with embarrassment: that you were being dumped, that you were crying about it when this hadn’t even been real to start with. It had never been what you thought it was. It was just fun. You had pictured parties and holidays and walking off into the sunset but that was just you. It had never been that for Sungbin.  

He didn’t want you. Like a woodpecker pecking at your skull, it hit you again and again: he didn’t want you. He didn’t want you. You tried to show yourself to him and then he didn’t want you. You took him to your water’s edge and he decided not to swim. You should have seen this coming. You should have heeded Taehyung’s warnings. You should have had this conversation before now.  

You could feel yourself spiralling, crumbling, sitting at his table with an uneaten salad bowl in front of you. You couldn’t speak because you didn’t know what to say. ‘Please just love me’? ‘Can’t you change your mind’? ‘What if I were different’? ‘I can change’? Would anything make a difference? You couldn’t be different. Not really. It hit you at that moment: you would always be you. All of these things that you had been doing to try to change, to be better, to grow, to stop being such a mess all of the time. They wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t change who you were. What you were. You’d always just be... this. 

“Yeah, I understand,” you whispered, your voice trapped in your strangled throat. “I have to go.” 

You stood and whirled around, heading immediately for the door, shoving your feet in your shoes any which way, as long as they stayed on long enough for you to escape. 

“No, wait, hold on!” Sungbin called, following after you. “Don’t just go, please. I want to talk- I don’-” 

But you were opening the door and running down the corridor and he was calling, but not running, after you.  

You wanted to break down, just fall to the floor in a heap and stay there until the ground ate you up but you had to get out of his building. The lift was stifling, a too small metal box with mirrored walls that showed you your red eyes and running nose and face contorted with the effort of trying not to cry, with the fact that you were crying anyway.  

You had never felt so stupid. Humiliated. You wanted to scrape your skin from your body with the shame of it. Of course he didn’t want a relationship with you. A man who already loved you and loved you for years didn’t want a relationship with you anymore; why would Sungbin, with the world at his feet, settle for you?  

* 

You were crying on the subway again. You had sworn you wouldn’t do that. Not after the break-up. Not once you’d finally stopped crying over San. You weren’t going to be that person, that’s what you’d said. No one took any notice; no one said anything; everyone averted their eyes, but you could still feel their attention, were still so aware of the way they were not noticing you. You were a weirdo, a pathetic woman crying on the subway in the middle of a Friday afternoon.  

When you got off the train, you considered throwing yourself on the tracks. You would never have done it. Too many people around. A traumatised driver. Delayed and cancelled trains. Compounding your worthlessness by ruining other people’s days? You hadn’t sunk that low, not yet.  

You traipsed home, your feet feeling lead-heavy, your legs feeling weak and, as soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, you dropped to the floor. You gasped in huge, choking sobs; you couldn’t see for your tears and could barely breathe. Your chest felt as though it were caving in on you, squeezing the life out of you. You dragged your nails across your skin to try to feel something else, something different, some other kind of pain and then a thought came to you, sharper than it had been for months, clear before where it had been vague. A directive, not just a thought anymore. 

There was a reason you didn’t keep razors in the house but your nails certainly weren’t cutting it. Then you remembered the knives Yoongi had bought you, how he had impressed upon you that they were sharp, that they were good quality and barely used so they should still, now, be sharp. You dragged your body to the kitchen counter and ripped open a drawer. You picked one at random – it didn’t matter which – and sat back down. You shuffled to pull off your cycle shorts and there they were, your mosaic thighs, criss-crosses of light, thin lines and thicker scar tissue. You had always taken a weird pride in the neatness of it. You had always cut carefully and deliberately, as though you were creating something other than scars, other than a mess, other than something you had to hide from everyone. You went over them again, re-cutting all the old lines, each sharp slice of pain a relief, grounding, pulling you back from somewhere.  

The relief made you feel hysterical, silly even, the strange, old euphoria of hurting yourself, of being in control of that hurt rushing through you and making you dizzy. It was like coming home. Your breathing came more smoothly and your heart slowed and your tears began to dry and you couldn’t stop, not yet. You had to see how far you could go. A little more. You needed just a little more. You had plenty of real estate; you could make more. You could expand the design, your bloody, little, monochromatic Mondrian.  

You felt empty when you stopped. Drained. Exhausted. Sick to your stomach. You let yourself fall sideways, lying on your dirty kitchen floor. You had nothing left in you. You lay there, unmoving, letting your brain tell you whatever it wanted. You didn’t care anymore. About anything. You had nothing. You had nothing to give and no one to give it to anyway. If you blipped out of existence, well, that would be the best-case scenario. Like Buffy’s key in reverse. Blink, and you had never existed at all. That would have been nice.  

It would still be nice. If you could just disappear off the face of the earth. You couldn’t bear to look towards the future – a future you didn’t want, that you knew wouldn’t be better than this. The thought of it made your soul shrivel, made you dig your nails into your reddened thighs, made you cringe and wince. When would it be over? Why couldn’t it be now?  

* 

You distantly heard your intercom ring but it felt as if it were coming from another world. You were gone. You were out of this world. No one missed you. Your apartment was a glitch, a tiny black hole where no one could go and no one wanted to go. It rang for what could have been a short time or a long time—you'd lost all sense of it. Then you heard knocking at your door.  

Then more knocking. 

Then something akin to thumping. 

“Hey,” Yoongi’s voice rang cleanly through the wood and metal. “Are you in?” 

Your phone started buzzing noisily on your side of the door, rattling against the floor bar in the entryway. Then there was silence for a while. You assumed he had gone away. 

Your door beeped and swung open and there were footsteps, the quiet flomp of shoes hitting the floor, the rustle of a carrier bag. You remembered you had given him your codes in the interest of fairness -- you did have his, after all. You felt so detached from everything that you didn’t know how you felt about that. Yoongi quietly called out for you. You didn’t respond. Didn’t even feel like you could.  

Your apartment was small enough that he could survey the entire space in a few small steps, so he would barely have to enter before he would see you. You knew the moment he did; you felt the way the air was sucked out of the room for a second. You felt him freeze, could hear the seconds tick by on the clock on the wall. Then he came into your line of sight, kneeling in front of you, saying your name. 

“Fuck, don’t be dead,” he whispered.  

He held his hand underneath your nose and felt you breathing. You felt the weight of the sigh that left him.  

“Shit, fuck.” 

He bent over, turning his head to try to catch your eyes; you could see him but you weren’t looking at him. You weren’t looking at anything. He was a blurry approximation of a man in front of you. He called your name for a third time.  

“You, uh, are you alright? ... fuck, fucking stupid. No, obviously not. Fuck. Ok. Uh. I-. Can I... What can I do?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer. It was as if all speech and movement had been taken from you. You really had nothing left. You couldn’t give him anything. You felt like a husk and that was all you wanted to be. 

“Shit, what should I do? I.. I do-. Well. Ok. Can you sit up?”  

You couldn’t even shake your head. You were aware of him continuing to mutter to himself. He stood up and disappeared for a minute or two; you heard the open and shut of cupboards, the rifling through of your jars and bottles and boxes. He returned with a light load. 

“I have to-” he started. “I’m going to. You.. I have to- I'm going to touch you, ok? I have to lift you up?” 

He hesitated as he came closer but was firm when he gripped your arms and lifted your body off the floor, pulled you sitting upright. You tipped your head back against the cupboard and a deep sigh pushed air from your lungs.  

“I still have to- this might hurt. You don’t have much stuff. I, uh, yeah, ok. I have to clean this.” 

You closed your eyes when he pressed a soaked cotton pad to your thigh. The burning sting of antiseptic made you feel a little bit alive but it was so short-lived.  

He was muttering again. 

“Fucking hell. I can’t. You don’t have anything useful. How am I-. What... This is... Fuck, this is going to need stitches. Is it?” 

You’d almost never heard him talk so much, not like this, not to himself, not with all these half-finished, curtailed sentences, this stopping and starting. Yoongi was straight-forward, even when he was feeling chatty. This Yoongi was going around in circles.  

When your eyes finally focused on him, he looked pale, paler than usual. A little grey possibly. His mouth was pulled in a taut, grim line when he wasn’t mumbling himself through the task.  

“Still fucking bleeding? Shit, did I make it bleed again? I can’t- I...” 

He sat back a little and looked at you; his eyes were sharp and focused and you couldn’t look at them. Yoongi took your chin in his hand, less gently than you might have expected, and he held you there until you looked at him.  

“How can you not have a fucking first-aid kit? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” The anger in his voice registered only dimly. “There’s a pharmacy on the corner and I’m going to go there.” He paused and his eyes were steely and his jaw tight as he worked his brain around how to say what he needed to. “I’m going to go and I’m going to come back and if I get back here and you’re dead, I am going to kill you, ok? I know I promised to kill you but I was fucking joking and you’re not allowed to be dead. Is that clear?” 

His face softened as he waited for an answer. You managed to nod your head. He held you a few more seconds before he stood and walked out.  

* 

It could have been only seconds or it could have been hours until he returned—you neither knew nor cared—but he did return and he dropped a plastic bag on the floor beside you. He tipped it upside down and dumped its contents. He wasn’t looking at you now, not at your face, just at your legs, as he cleaned and tended and muttered to himself some more. He unwrapped bandages and folded over gauze and you let him lift your legs and place them back down. You let him do whatever he needed to, wanted to. It didn’t matter.  

When he was finished, he sat back and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and you saw his eyes alight on something to your left. You couldn’t read the expression that came over his face. Something like horror, something like disgust, something like despair. He leaned forward onto his hands and grabbed the offending object; he threw it into the sink with a metallic clatter.  

He sat opposite you for some time. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You felt hollow. You could hear it, the wind howling through your empty spaces. You felt like you were all empty space. Just an echo of nothingness trapped in skin. Every part of you hurt, as if the pain were radiating out from your heart, filling the void inside you with a sharp, persistent ache. You couldn’t talk. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, to have to hear yourself, hear your existence continuing in the world. It hurt. As long as you were silent, you could fade away, you told yourself. Just disappear. Yoongi would go and you would be alone and you could just disappear. 

“Do you want to eat?” he asked. “You should eat.”  

The thought evidently set him on a path because he stood and opened your fridge, opened your cupboards, looking for food. He stepped over you and then stopped, foot in mid-air. He turned back to you. 

“If I’m going to cook, you’re in the way. Can you move?” 

You blinked. You sighed. You looked down. Then you felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you to your feet. It was an awkward drag and shuffle to the sofa, your feet tripping over themselves, Yoongi lifting but not really carrying you.  

“Fuck, sorry,” he said on a heavy exhale as you dropped like a stone onto the sofa. “I’m going to cook now.” 

* 

He held a bowl out in front of you and, when you didn’t take it, he picked up your hands and placed them against the ceramic, lowering it all into your lap. Then he sat next to you. 

“Eat.” 

You looked at the food, steaming hot; it smelt nice. You wondered what on earth it was and how he could have found the right ingredients in your house. You were still not exactly domesticated, despite your efforts. Yoongi kicked your foot. 

“I mean it. Eat.” 

You sighed and continued staring into the bowl. Eating would mean conceding to living, to staying alive. You felt defeated but you also wanted to avoid this defeat. Everything about you felt wrong. Hideous. Like things were crawling beneath your skin. You didn’t want to continue that existence. You didn’t want to feed it. 

Yoongi took the bowl from your hands and placed it on your coffee table. 

“Fine,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Absolutely not. You shook your head.  

“What do you want to do? I don’t know what to do. What can I do?” 

You, again, fell sideways, lying on the sofa with your legs still dangling down. It wasn’t entirely comfortable but that hardly mattered. You couldn’t answer; you didn’t know.  

Then Yoongi did something that you wouldn’t in a thousand years have expected him to. Just as you had, in his apartment, weeks ago, he crawled behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, convinced for a second you might split and shatter. He was warm and soft and you could smell his hair and his breath tickled your neck and it hurt so much. It all hurt so much.  

You breathed in deep and when you exhaled, you choked, crying again. You didn’t know you had more in you. You had thought you were dry, but just as there was no end to your sadness, there apparently was no end to your tears.  

You lay there, letting him hold you as you cried, letting the sun lower in the sky, letting the stars come out.  

“I’m fucking sick of it,” you gasped. “Sick of it, sick of it, sick of it.” 

“Sick of what?” 

“Everything. I hate it. I hate everything. I hate it. I hate being alive. I hate being me. I can’t stand it. I don’t know how people do it. I just want it to stop. I just want it to stop.” 

“Life?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I get it. I don’t want you to stop being you, though. For what it’s worth.”  

You couldn’t hear that kind of thing. Not now. You couldn’t take it. 

“You just don’t know me,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and thick from new tears.  

“Tell me, then.” 

“I fucking suck.” 

“How?” 

“Literally everything I am. Fundamentally flawed. I’m broken and stupid and I can’t be normal and no one can ever love me because I’m this. I’m just this all the time and I can’t get better and I thought that I could but it’s just me and my fucking broken head and I ruin everything. I ruin everything for everyone and always will and no one can stand me. No one can and I don’t fucking blame them. I can’t stand me either. It makes me sick to be such a useless heap of junk. I’m a worthless waste of space because what is the point of me? What do I do? I need people, I cling to people, I make myself their problem until they can’t take it anymore. I’m depressed and stupid and I will never achieve anything and never do anything and I might as well just die right now because who cares? Literally who cares. I tried and I fucking tried but I’m still me and I can’t run from it or change it and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be here. I don’t know what to do anymore. There is nothing for me. The future is black and it’s bleak because I’ll be there. I’m always there. I can’t get away from myself. I can’t bear it. I have to live like this? For years? More and more years? Twenty? Or thirty? Forty years of this? It makes me sick to think about. I can’t think about it. I can’t think about having to be alive like this for another day let alone any longer. I hate it. I hate being me and I hate being alive and I just wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just disappear. I’m a broken, useless, fucked in the head piece of shit and no one will ever love me because they can’t. I’m unlovable. I’m this and it makes me unlovable but I can’t change it so I will always be unlovable and I can’t do it. I can’t live like that. I can’t do it anymore.” 

You took a deep, shuddering breath and Yoongi said nothing. He was quiet for long enough for your shame to creep back in, curling its fingers around the door frame and pulling itself in, unbidden and unwanted. You were embarrassed now, again. You felt stupid. Again. You felt pointless and petty and pathetic and you were about to shrug Yoongi off, to tell him to leave, to crawl into your bed and hide under the sheets when his arms tightened around you. You heard as well as felt him take a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I understand.”  

There was a pregnant pause and Yoongi cleared his throat. 

“But I don’t think any of those things about you. For what it’s worth.” 

Chapter Four | Masterlist | Chapter Six

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

uhhhhhh so this ended up being much much longer than i intended (what a surprise) so i'm posting this as an independent drabble instead of as a response to this ask

i think i need emotional support after writing this

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 3.3k

notes: canon!verse, post-war!levi, hurt/comfort, vague mentions of depressive symptoms, apologies if i get some s4 details wrong, i need emotional support now

Until I See You Again

| part 2 >>

recommended listening:

It had been a few months since the raid on Liberio. You remembered your reluctance to hop onto the airship and leave Paradis Island. You couldn’t remember what it was exactly that made you hesitate other than a daunting feeling that you couldn’t get rid of.

You remembered your mobility gear failing as you flew through the night sky, desperately trying to find your way back to the airship. You remembered getting caught in an explosion and getting bombarded with sharp pieces of shrapnel as you lost control of your body. You vaguely remembered Levi calling out your name, although you weren’t sure if you had just imagined that or not. 

The next thing you remembered was waking up in a stranger’s bed. It seemed that one of the Eldian families that lived in a part of Liberio that wasn’t as affected by the raid had taken you in. Although your injuries were not fatal, they were severe enough that you were under their care until very recently. As a result, you found yourself woefully unaware of the details of the war that had recently begun.

It was agonizing for you to be forced to stay in bed and rest, being taken care of by complete strangers as the war raged on around you. Once you were finally up and moving, the end of the war had passed and Liberio was in absolute chaos. 

You had desperately tried to find information on the state of Paradis and the Eldians that had once inhabited it—the ‘island devils’, as the Marleyans would call them—but there was so much misinformation floating around that you couldn’t be sure what to believe. Some said that the island had been abandoned after being flattened by the Rumbling. Some said the last few survivors perished during the final fight with the Founding Titan. Some said they fled and mingled into Marleyan society. People said a lot of things and you had no idea which ones were true. You had even considered trying to travel back to Paradis Island to figure out the fate of your people and more importantly, the fate of Levi Ackermann.

You waited. You spent weeks waiting, hoping to hear more solid news over what had happened. You continuously mingled around the public spaces, hoping to pick up information, or hang out at the port to see if you could find your other half amongst the refugees. 

You waited for weeks, yet you found nothing. You desperately wanted to continue waiting on the off chance that you might run into him, but you knew that it was more realistic to assume that he had perished during the climax of the war. Every time you saw someone that looked even slightly like him, you wanted to run to him and embrace him. Every time you looked closer, you saw that that someone was never actually him.

You sighed as you held a small hand-sized water lantern with both your hands. You had purchased it around two weeks ago as you emotionally prepared yourself for this moment. 

You slowly kneeled down to the ground with a heavy weighted feeling appearing in your chest. Everyone was gone. Levi was gone. You couldn’t imagine living your life without him, but you had to. If nothing else, you had to try—and in order for you to try, you had to let him go.

As you had that thought, you gently dropped the lantern into the water, having lit it up on your way over to the dock. You sat and watched as it floated off away from the coast and towards the ocean. 

“Until I see you again,” you whispered underneath your breath, “Levi.”

~~~~~

It had been a few months since the raid on Liberio and a few weeks since the end of the Rumbling. Although things were relatively calm compared to the chaos that ensued when Eren Jaeger brought down the walls on Paradis Island, it didn’t bring Levi Ackermann any peace.

Things had happened much too quickly. One minute, he was looking off the bridge of the airship next to you, appreciating the sight of the ocean below you and the stars above you. You two had relished in the few minutes of peace that you’d be able to steal before the raid. He remembered the two of you chatting over what diner to eat at after you got back to the island or where in the Forest of Giant Trees that you wanted to visit to get away from the noise of the town around you. 

He remembered watching you disappear into that sea of fire, having been just a second too late in grabbing you. He remembered being forced to flee, despite all of his instincts telling him to jump into the fire to save you. After believing that he had lost you, he channeled all of his emotional energy into the war that had begun with Marley. 

However, now that the war was over, all he could think about was you. He would wake up in the morning, longing to feel your touch and hear your voice. He longed to see the way you’d lazily get out of bed with the grumpiest expression or how you would get subtly whiney whenever he had to drag you out of the house to work. He missed your embrace and it hurt like hell every day that he had to wake up without you.

It had been weeks since he had established his own place in Liberio. He found it next to impossible to integrate himself into Marleyan society. Even going outside was torture, with the only thought crossing his mind being that one fateful night in the very town he currently stayed in. The structures around him were all still the same. Every day he went outside was another day that he was forced to relive your death.

He had a meeting face-first with a thunder spear. He lost the use of one of his legs during the final battle of the war. He had suffered so many injuries, so quickly, yet he lived. Part of him wished he didn’t. The guilt of him being the one that survived tore at him with every passing minute. He couldn’t even begin to count the amount of people that have died around him. It was like being around him was a curse—one he couldn’t save you from. 

Everyone that he had worked with was gone. He truly was alone. It was agonizing. There was no war to fight and no Titans that needed to be killed, putting him at wit’s end over how to distract himself from the grief that was pushing down on him. Every time he saw someone in Liberio that looked like you, he felt his heart clench as if it suddenly forgot how to function. Every time he looked closer and saw that it wasn’t, he felt like the heaviness in his chest grew. Everything around him only contributed to his grief.

When everyone had gotten killed by Zeke in Shiganshina, the only thing that allowed him to keep his resolve was you. Grieving everyone was at least a little easier as long as he had you by his side—but that fell apart the minute he saw you disappear into the flames.

He cursed to himself as he slowly walked across the dock, frowning at the prosthetic leg that he had gotten attached onto him a little while ago. He knew it was helpful and gave him some autonomy back in his life, but it was annoying for him to have to readjust his own pacing from having an artificial limb. 

He looked back up and watched the sun that was slowly dipping beneath the horizon. He had come here so he could walk and ease into walking normally again, but also because the scenery brought him at least some sense of comfort. The two of you would commonly walk on top of the walls during sunset when stressed, simply chatting and enjoying each other’s presence, and walking on the dock seemed similar. While it felt like breathing got slightly easier as he recalled that memory, walking in that view without you by his side made him feel emptier than he had felt this morning.

The frown on his face grew as that heavy feeling within him continued to grow. He didn’t know what to do. If he went home, he’d be miserable. If he stayed here, he’d be miserable. If he went to hang out at a local cafe, he’d be miserable. There was nothing he could do. 

He glanced towards the far end of the dock and let out a dejected exhale as he saw someone kneeling down on the dock that vaguely reminded him of you. He watched the way that their hair shuffled around as they stood back up. He watched the way they held themselves as they walked back onto the streets. He watched the way they hung their head down while taking unsteady, slow steps forward, similar to how you would when you were upset. 

As he continued to watch, he felt his heart rate slightly increase.

It couldn’t possibly be you. He had played this game at least a dozen times already. He would see someone that looked like you. He would get near them to see if it was you—and it never was. He didn’t want to hold onto hope just to be disappointed. He watched you disappear into that explosion. There was no doubting that—but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

What if it was you?

Like every other time, he couldn’t get that thought out of his mind. With the war being over, he also had no way of replacing that thought by keeping himself busy.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue quietly, frustrated at his own inability to control himself as he began to make his way over towards this stranger, just so he could get his brain to shut up once he sees that it isn’t you.

~~~~~

You silently thanked the rain clouds that had quickly filled the sky as you felt the rain drops gently fall. It wasn’t a full drizzle, but the gentle rain was more than enough to hide the tears that were now flowing down your cheeks.

You weren’t ready to let go. You didn’t want to let go. As you made your way back home, you couldn’t take your eyes off the floor, as all of the memories of your life together with Levi began to emerge all at once. Every single time that he had provided you with a source of strength that no one else could would not be felt again. He would never be there to help you on your low days again. He would never silently hold you as you sobbed about the loss that you had to cope with ever again. You would never feel his embrace again. You would never feel him again.

At this point, nearly everyone had either gone home for the night or walked indoors due to the rain. You couldn’t be bothered with it. Returning home to an empty apartment that you had no energy to upkeep felt more agonizing than standing in the freezing rain. Every step forward felt like it took all of your energy and part of you just wanted to collapse onto the ground and never get up again.

You took one more dejected step forward and opened your eyes as you felt yourself bump into someone. 

You were already emotionally exhausted, so bumping into this stranger when they had more than enough room on the sidewalk to pass you without entering your bubble was more than enough to irritate you. 

A scowl appeared on your face, but quickly disappeared

You felt your irritation get replaced with grief again as you looked down towards the stranger’s shoes, having been walking the entire way home without looking in front of you, only staring at the floor. The way the person stood in front of you felt familiar. The way their body slightly shuffled as the rain dropped down on you felt familiar. The way the person was standing felt familiar. Even the way they subtly smelled seemed familiar.

You noticed your breathing halt as those foolishly hopeful thoughts entered your mind again.

It couldn’t be him.

You’ve played this game over and over again. It was never him. 

You found yourself scared to raise your gaze. You wanted to cling onto this feeling of hope, but you knew it would dissipate the minute you saw that it wasn’t him. You weren’t sure how much of that you could bear.

Slowly, you lifted your head, fully preparing to mask any additional tears that were threatening to fall so that you didn’t end up sobbing in front of a complete stranger.

Your eyes made contact with blue-gray ones that looked right back at yours. They were familiar. They were tired and worn, as if they had seen too many horrors to imagine—but it was familiar.

It couldn’t be him.

You then noticed the way this stranger’s hair situated itself into an undercut. You noticed that he was barely taller than you—and you were already quite short yourself. You noticed the way he stood.

You felt yourself freeze up as you questioned the reality around you.

“Is this real?” you asked underneath your breath.

You felt a familiar grip on your waist as the person in front of you reached out. It was so familiar you wanted to collapse into him.

“Is it?” a familiar voice responded.

Hearing Levi’s voice for the first time in months finally ripped you out of your stupor.

He was here in front of you. It wasn’t a hallucination. You didn’t know how he was here or how long he had been in Liberio, but he was here.

It was like you could finally exhale after having held your breath ever since you woke up after the raid. As you felt his hands on you, saw him in front of you, and heard him speak to you, you felt your breathing destabilize as your efforts to mask your tears completely faded away.

You collapsed into Levi’s chest as his arms wrapped around you. You pulled him close as you sobbed, processing all of your grief at once. You hugged him tighter and tighter, wanting to ensure yourself that this was real—that he was real.

Levi took a deep breath as he somewhat buried his face into your hair, relishing in the feeling that he had missed for so long.

All of the pain you had felt throughout the past few months compounded together and ripped itself out of you all at once. It was absolute torture—but with every ounce of strength you had left, you would strive to feel this pain and be next to him, holding onto him, so that you would never lose him again.

~~~~~

You couldn’t take your gaze off of him.

The two of you had walked to his apartment since it was closer to the docks, compared to yours that was further inland. You currently rested on his couch with one of his jackets wrapped around you since you ended up being drenched in rainwater. 

You curled up and pulled his jacket in closer as he gently set down a cup of tea in front of you. You shakily grabbed the cup and slowly brought it to your lips, with a fresh wave of grief rolling through you as the liquid made contact with your lips. 

You gripped at the handle of the cup, shutting your eyes at the thought of just how much you had missed the way he made his tea. Over the past few months, you had tried to duplicate his brew in a vain effort to pretend he was still next to you, resulting in failure each time.

You listened intensely, continuing to sip at his tea to warm yourself up as he filled you in on the events after you had “died”. He spoke of Eren’s betrayal and how that led up to the climax of the war. He spoke of the insurrection within the walls. He spoke of the accident he had found himself trapped in. He spoke of all the events that you had missed out on.

He watched, trying to gauge your reaction to the information coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t ignore that intense feeling of guilt that was building up in his stomach. 

You were alive this entire time. His instincts were right. He should have stayed to rescue you. At the very least, he should have come back for you after they escaped. Instead of channeling all of his rage into the war, he should have come to find you—but he didn’t.

As he spoke, your eyes ran up and down his body. You had first noticed his scars when you looked up at him. The right side of his face had two vertical scars, with one running down his cheek and the other running through his right eye. You glanced down and felt your heart drop once you saw the state of his right hand, which was missing his index and middle finger.

Now that you thought about it, when you were looking down at his shoes earlier, you had noticed that one of his legs had been replaced with a prosthetic one. 

All this had occurred without you. All of these injuries that had permanently changed his life had happened without you. You couldn’t be there to support him or help him. He had to navigate it on his own, and that felt just as painful as losing him.

You reached out and gently grabbed at the sides of his face with both of your hands, running your left thumb across some of his scars.

“Are you in pain?” you whispered to him.

He grabbed at your hand, giving your palm a gentle kiss and he shot you a small, reassuring smile.

“Not anymore.”

You smiled back, but you weren’t reassured.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there during the most important period of our lives,” you said as your pain became evident in your voice. “I just feel like I missed out on everything and that I wasn’t here to support you-”

Although you two were already close physically, he still pulled you in closer, planting a kiss onto your lips. The feeling of your lips on his sent a rush of euphoria through his body, a feeling he never thought he would feel again.

After a while, he pulled away, but only ever so slightly. He wasn’t ready to let you go yet. He wasn’t ready to no longer feel your skin on him, even if it was just for a few seconds. He wanted to relish in the fact that you were here.

“Well,” he said quietly as he whispered to you. “Now we have nothing but time.”

Suddenly, living in a post-war peaceful life didn’t seem so bad to him. He pulled you into another kiss, placing his hand at the nape of your neck to pull you in closer.

It had been a few months since the raid at Liberio. During that time, he had lost everyone that had ever mattered to him. He had been forced onto a journey alone, in which he had to explore and find his own place in a world that wasn’t filled with death and destruction. He had been forced to shed his title as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier with no direction as to how to move forward.

However, now that he had you in his embrace again and was able to feel you, hear you, and see you, that journey no longer seemed as agonizing or impossible, as long as he found himself by your side.

A/N: i think i made this angstier than originally intended oops. hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @chaotic-on-main, @romantichomicide95, @levis-squishy-cheeks, @lovolee3

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[jebewonmorelike]

We're Making The Bear

wc: 3.3k (haha help) pronouns: none used; n/a (reader calls jiwoong 'oppa' but it's only because that's what his baby sister calls him!) warnings: oh wow this is so fluffy... tiniest bit of angst bc jiwoong doesn't see his sister as much as he would like bc of his work schedule summary: a reluctant jiwoong and his baby sister make a teddy bear with the help of the cute bear's life employee!reader. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ this one will destroy your teeth and your dentist will hate you from all the fluff i'm serious. this was so fulfilling to write, i really, really love how it turned out! i think you're gonna like it :) when i post, i'm always like "MY MASTERPIECE" so pls forgive me if i overhype things but i'm so happy with them once i finish them lmaooo. this was a request so thank you to @hursheys for this idea, sorry it took me a little while but I hope you like it <3 &lt;3 <3

Placing your little bear ears back on your head after your lunch break, you fluff some of the ready-to-purchase bears on the shelves to the right side of the store. You're completely absorbed in your busywork when you feel a gentle tug on your pastel apron.

Looking down to your left, you're met with the sight of a tiny girl; her eyes big and round staring up at you happily. You figure she can't be more than five, if that.

"Hi!" You greet with a smile, watching as the little girl blinks back at you innocently. "And who do we have here?"

"Ji-Ah!" She announces happily, a grin spreading across her face.

You giggle, but a bit of concern for the lone child is brewing in your chest. "It's lovely to meet you, Ji-Ah-sshi! Are your parents here with you today?"

Ji-Ah shakes her head. "Jiwoong Oppa!"

"Ji-Ahya!" You hear a male voice call suddenly as the door to your shop flies open.

"Oh good, here's your--," you start to say, but your voice trails off when you're suddenly face-to-face with the most strikingly gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. Your lips part slightly in shock, wide-eyed as you stare back at him. "... Oppa."

As the incredibly handsome man approaches, you can see the worry in his eyes. He picks up Ji-Ah quickly and throws her over his hip. "What did I tell you about leaving my side, huh? You could get lost or hurt, Ji-Ah. Then what would I do?"

Turning his head finally, his eyes meet yours and you're embarrassed to admit that you're a bit breathless. Mentally scolding yourself, you ground your feet back in reality. "Hi, how are you?"

He nods, grimacing awkwardly at you. "I'm sorry if she bothered you. She can be kind of slippery."

"Not at all," you reply, shaking your head. "My name is (Y/N). What brings you both to Bear's Life today?"

"Oh, last week it was little Ji-Ah's birthday," the man explains as his sister smiles at you. "Unfortunately, I was working. I'm actually working today, too, but I was lucky enough to get some time off to spend with my baby sister."

You smile as Ji-Ah bites her thumb shyly; her face as perfect as a doll's as her brother sets her back down on the floor. "Well, I'm glad you could make it! So, we'll be opting in for the full experience?"

The man named Jiwoong's lips part as he prepares to protest, but Ji-Ah cuts him off before he can get a word out.

"Yes, yes, yes! Can I?" She begs, jumping up and down excitedly.

Jiwoong sighs, smiling to cover up his opposition. "Ji-Ah, I don't have that much time. We were just going to pick out a bear that's already been made. I thought you wanted to get ice cream, too?"

Ji-Ah shakes her head rapidly. "No, I want to make my bear with (Y/N)-sshi!"

"Don't worry, Ji-Ah-sshi," you say with a smile. "I know the perfect method that your brother could never say no to!"

"You do?" Jiwoong asks nervously.

"Repeat after me, okay?" You prompt as Ji-Ah nods enthusiastically. Slipping into the cutest voice you can muster, you clasp your hands together below your chin and look up at Jiwoong with puppy-dog eyes. "Can I please make my bear today?"

Jiwoong stares back at you with his eyebrows raised-- mouth slightly ajar in shock.

Ji-Ah mimics your actions, clasping her hands together and begging, "Can I please make my bear today?"

"Pretty, pretty please," you demonstrate again, putting your chin in your hands so your cheeks squish up.

"Pretty, pretty please," Ji-Ah follows, squishing her little round cheeks up in her palms. You watch as a reluctant smile begins to form on her older brother's face.

You tap one finger to your cheek cutely as you add your next line. "With a cherry on top!"

"With a cherry on top!" Ji-Ah says, touching her tiny index finger to her cheek and sticking out her lips in her own improvised pout. Jiwoong laughs, shaking his head in amazement.

"Please, Oppa?" You finish your pleading, smiling up at Jiwoong sweetly. He swallows nervously, a quick flash of panic in his eyes as you look away quickly out of embarrassment.

"Please, Oppa?" Ji-Ah repeats, her smile lethally infectious as Jiwoong places a hand over his heart. He holds up his other hand in surrender.

"Okay, fine!" He relents, sighing in defeat while grinning. "I'm too weak; I can't take any more! You've got me: we're making the bear."

~

"Now that our new bear friend is stuffed full of fluff... we need to stuff him full of love, too!" You say, holding the cream-colored teddy bear that Ji-Ah had picked out and helped to fill with cotton. You reach into the large heart-shaped box next to the stuffing machine and pull out an assortment of small, plushy fabric hearts. Each has a different design, color and texture so that the customer can choose the one they like most for their bear friend.

“(Y/N)-sshi? I want Jiwoong Oppa to pick the heart!” Ji-Ah demands cutely, looking up at her brother expectantly.

He blinks at you hesitantly before nodding in agreement. "Okay, I guess I can do that."

You hold out the fabric hearts to the young man which are splayed delicately across your palms for him to choose. He looks at them for a second before looking back up at you, entirely overwhelmed by the task he’s been given as his eyes silently scream ‘help me’.

A small smile creeping onto your face, you use your thumb to indicate which heart Ji-Ah would like most. As you tap the heart quickly, Jiwoong exhales in relief and picks up the little plush heart between his thumb and index finger.

"Let's see which one he picked!" You say, prompting Jiwoong to reveal the fabric heart in his palm.

Ji-Ah squeals happily. "That's the one I wanted! How did you know, Oppa!?"

Her brother smiles at you gratefully. "I just did!"

"Our heart will bring our bear friend to life, but we have to say our magic phrase for it to work," you explain. "Can you both hold our bear's heart and repeat the magic words?"

Jiwoong squats down so that he's on his sister's level, holding out the fabric heart for her to grab onto.

"I wish, I wish..." You begin, nodding at them encouragingly as they echo each phrase of the poem after you.

~I wish, I wish... on this true heart... that one bear's life... with this, will start!~

"And now we'll place our heart inside our bear friend," you instruct, holding out the teddy bear for Jiwoong and Ji-Ah to place the heart inside the zippered opening. As you close the zipper, you press a button to the side of the stuffing machine secretively which triggers hundreds of fairly lights to light up throughout the store.

Ji-Ah's jaw drops in awe as she spins around and around to look at the magical display. Her brother smiles at you appreciatively.

"That was incredible you guys! Your spell was the best I've ever seen," you praise, handing the teddy bear to a very happy Ji-Ah. "Do you come from a magical family?"

Jiwoong laughs. "Something like that."

Stepping over slightly to your counter, you pull out a blank Bear Birth Certificate and uncap your fancy fine-tip pen. "Now, what is our new bear friend's name?"

"Gomdori Oppa," Ji-Ah announces with a smile, hugging the bear tighter to her chest. "Then I can play with Jiwoong Oppa whenever I want and he won’t have to go away!"

Your breath hitches at the little girl's words as you glance up cautiously at her older brother. His eyes are wide as they meet yours; the handsome man's expression suddenly filled with shame. It's none of your business, but you can't help but wonder how important this man's work is that he's never around for his baby sister.

"That's--..." You fumble before quickly forcing a big grin for the little girl in front of you, writing the name down on the certificate. “That’s a wonderful idea! Then you can always have your big brother close to you.”

Ji-Ah smiles, bouncing on her toes happily. You glance up at her brother again to find him attempting to blink back tears. Whatever his reason for not being around more often, you can tell that it deeply pains him and that’s enough for you to want to try to make this a great memory for both of them to cherish.

“Well now that Gomdori Oppa is born,” you transition, giving the little bear a pat on the head, “he needs a bath before he’s ready to go out into the world! Do you want to go put our little bundle of joy in the bath for me?"

Ji-Ah nods, skipping over in utter bliss to the Bear Salon in the corner. You turn to her brother, who is still in the midst of composing himself.

"She really adores you, doesn't she?" You comfort, smiling at the man gently. "I think you bring her a lot of joy."

He nods, smiling sadly. "I'm just away so much. I wonder if that joy's enough, you know?"

"I can see how much you care about her," you reply, meeting his gaze now. "That's what they remember. Not the details... Just the love."

His smile fades, eyebrows raising as if the sentiment surprises him. He studies you for a moment before his eyebrows furrow with genuine appreciation. "Thank you."

"Oppaaaaa!" Ji-Ah whines from the Salon. "Gomdori Oppa needs his bath!"

"Okay, okay!" He concedes as you both laugh. As you turn to walk over to the Salon, Jiwoong stops in his tracks. You look back at him curiously to see he's staring at a shelf to his right. "What are those?"

You step back towards him, following the direction of his gaze. Your eyes light up when you recognize what he's looking at. "Oh! Those are voice boxes. You can record your own message and put it inside the bear."

"I know you said she'll only remember the love," Jiwoong grins at you, shrugging resignedly. "But it can't hurt, right?"

You're compelled to grin back, his entirely charming smile nearly knocking you off your feet. You breathe deeply as you will yourself to get a grip. "I guess it can't."

"That's what I thought," he replies, picking up one of the voice boxes and walking toward the opposite end of the store. "I'll be over there until you need me."

"(Y/N)-sshiiiiii!" Ji-Ah whines again, ripping you from your silly little daydream.

You run over to the little girl; your signature magical smile back on your face. "I'm here! Time to give Gomdori Oppa his first ever bubble bath."

Ji-Ah giggles, mesmerized as the bathtub fills with fake bubbles. You glance over at her brother, your heart warming as you catch him grinning into the voice recorder.

~

“Gomdori Oppa is all fresh and clean for his first day as a baby bear!” You announce, turning the bear around in his salon chair as Jiwoong rejoins you. He slips you the voice box behind your back to keep the surprise for Ji-Ah and you tuck it into your pocket nonchalantly.

“But… he’s missing something, isn’t he?” You ask, eyebrows raising in concern as you pretend to examine the bear you've picked up.

Ji-Ah blinks back at you wide-eyed, anticipation absolutely brimming over.

“Oh no!” You gasp, placing a hand over the bear’s front playfully. “He’s missing his clothes!”

Ji-Ah throws her head back, giggling furiously at your humorous performance. “Gomdori Oppa is naked!”

Jiwoong laughs too as he places a large hand over his sister’s eyes. “Don’t look! He’s shy.”

Another giggle fit ensues as Ji-Ah wraps her tiny hand around her brother’s— attempting to pry it off her to no avail.

“We need to pick out Gomdori Oppa’s first outfit,” you say, hopping over to the Shopping Mall as Ji-Ah grabs her brother’s sleeve and drags him behind you. “Since our baby bear is modeled after Jiwoong Oppa, should we pick something for him that your brother would wear?”

You squat down to the little girl’s level as both you and Ji-Ah look up at Jiwoong to assess his sense of style. You turn to each other, eyes narrowing with judgment as you look back at her older brother.

“What?” Jiwoong asks with a frown. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

You pout as you consider how to answer. “It’s a bit…”

“Boring!” Ji-Ah interjects suddenly.

Jiwoong’s eyebrows raise in offense.

“I was going to say ‘classic’,” you add.

Jiwoong sighs. “That’s just the polite way to say boring. Well if you dislike the source inspiration so much, why don't you just skip the clothes?"

“The clothes are the best part, Oppa,” Ji-Ah says, shooting him a sassy glare. “Duh.”

Jiwoong meets your gaze, shaking his head playfully in disbelief at his baby sister.

“Duh, Oppa,” you echo Ji-Ah, earning an unamused look from Jiwoong that endearingly resembles his sister’s to a tee. “The clothes are the best part.”

The little girl points up to a garment on the wall and you follow her line of site to a voluminous princess gown. "That's perfect!"

“Ji-Ahya!” Jiwoong scolds. “Didn’t you say this bear is supposed to be like me?”

Ji-Ah looks at her brother for a moment before grinning. “He is like you!”

Jiwoong glances at you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “I don’t wear princess dresses, Ji-Ah.”

“Mm,” Ji-Ah considers for a moment. “I guess he’s more like a cooler version of you.”

“Would I really be cooler if I wore princess dresses?” Jiwoong asks doubtfully as you fill out more of the bear's birth certificate.

“To a five-year-old, yes,” you answer his rhetorical question, not thinking as you follow it with, "You're so handsome though, I wouldn't be surprised if you could pull it off.”

He smiles at you amusedly as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh yeah? I'll tell my stylist to sprinkle in some more ballgowns then, if the cute Bear's Life employee thinks I can pull it off."

You suddenly bite your lip to keep your jaw from falling open. "Cute?"

"Oh, uh," Jiwoong stammers, clearly unaware that he'd let the word slip. He laughs awkwardly as he walks back over to the wall of the Shopping Mall and picks Ji-Ah up, situating her on his hip so she can look at the clothes better. "You're sure about the princess gown for Gomdori Oppa? What about these little overalls, huh? Or this Hawaiian shirt?"

You watch as Ji-Ah shakes her head firmly at every option her brother poses, a smile forming on your lips. You had to admit he was incredibly cute with her. Then, something dawns on you: Jiwoong said he had a stylist. Of course, he had been joking around, but was that part a joke too? Could he be someone famous? He certainly has the face to be an actor or an idol. More importantly:

Was this the reason he didn't visit home much?

"Gomdori Oppa wants a princess dress," Ji-Ah says and her tone indicates that the decision is final.

Jiwoong sighs. "Alright, alright. Gomdori Oppa will be the most beautiful princess in all the land... per the Queen's orders."

"Well now that Princess Gomdori Oppa has decided he wants to wear the most beautiful gown that he can get his hands on... there's only one question left!" You make your way up to them, Ji-Ah giggling at the regal voice that her brother just put on. "Is that dress pink or blue?"

~

"Here is Gomdori Oppa's birth certificate," you say, handing the thick piece of paper over to Jiwoong. "These are his official records, so hold onto them tightly or he won't be allowed to vote in the Bear Elections or collect his Bear Pension!"

Jiwoong snorts, looking up at the ceiling and whistling when you narrow your eyes at him; though the grin that he keeps having to suppress makes it hard for him to produce any sound.

"And here is Gomdori Oppa," you present, handing the fluffy brown bear adorned in a pink ballgown and tiara to Ji-Ah. "Maybe you can give him a big squeeze?"

Ji-Ah smiles, squeezing the bear tightly to her. Her eyes light up as a voice sounds from the bear:

Ji-Ahya! Are you being a good girl for Eomma? Are you going to bed early and eating well? Jiwoong Oppa will be home before you know it. And in the mean time... Gomdori Oppa loves you very much, Ji-Ah.

"Oppaaa!" Ji-Ah cries, a little pout on her lips as her eyes water. "I love you!"

You would be lying if you said a little lump doesn't form in your throat as Jiwoong places one large hand on the top of his sister's head and ruffles up her hair affectionately.

"I'm so glad you came into Bear's Life today," you say, grinning at Ji-Ah as she sniffs back her tears almost as soon as they arrived. "I had a blast with you guys! Did you have fun, too?"

The little girl bounces up and down, handing her bear to her brother for a moment so she can wrap her arms around your waist in a hug. You giggle at the adorable little girl, patting her back gently before she pulls away.

Running behind your little counter area, you pull up the total on your cash register. "Okay, that'll be 145,000 won."

"Oh," Jiwoong remarks, eyebrows raise in surprise. "That's... that's quite an expensive bear we put together, Ji-Ah."

"Well, you're also paying for the experience... and your time with the worker..." You explain, smirking at the incredibly handsome man in front of you. "Did you enjoy your time with the worker?"

"Yes," Jiwoong answers a little too seductively before coughing to cover it up when he suddenly remembers where he is. After clearing his throat several times, he replies sheepishly, "Yes, I did-- we did, I mean."

"That's what I thought," you reply with a smug smile, taking the credit card he immediately holds out to you. Swiping it through your machine and handing it back to him, he places his card in his wallet and holds out his hand for Ji-Ah to take.

"Thank you, Oppa!" She squeals happily before turning and bowing to you. "Thank you, (Y/N)-sshi! I'll miss you!"

Your heart melts at the pout on Ji-Ah's face as she looks between you and her brother.

"Oh, uh," Jiwoong stutters as he tries to think of a solution. "Well, we'll come back again soon! How does that sound, Ji-Ah?"

"REALLY!?" Ji-Ah screams excitedly, eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes. We can come and get more... accessories," Jiwoong nods, smiling in resign. "... for the bear."

"Accessories... for the bear?" You repeat with a smirk.

"Yeah! I mean, you both agreed: the clothes are the best part," Jiwoong attempts to explain. "So Gomdori Oppa will want another outfit eventually."

"YAAAAAAAY!" Ji-Ah exclaims, clapping her hands together. "And then you can see (Y/N)-sshi!"

Jiwoong's eyebrows raise immediately. "So then I can see (Y/N)-sshi? Ji-Ah..."

"And then you can fall in looooove," Ji-Ah sing-songs teasingly. Impressed, you smile. Kids always know whats going on... even when we think they don't.

"Ji-Ahya, please--," Jiwoong starts, but you cut him off.

"Well, whenever Gomdori Oppa is ready for his new accessories," you say, meeting Jiwoong's gaze. "Let him know he's welcome any time."

Ji-Ah giggles as her brother swallows nervously, a blush tinting his cheeks as he smiles bashfully. Bear in one hand and Jiwoong's palm in the other, your tiny customer Ji-Ah pulls her brother towards the door.

Jiwoong's still stealing glances at you from over his shoulder, grinning at the way you're now biting your lip to keep from laughing. Ji-Ah turns around one more time, taking Gomdori Oppa's hand in her own and letting the little bear wave goodbye to you.

You wave back as they walk out of the doors hand-in-hand, smiling as you know you achieved your goal of making this visit a special memory for Ji-Ah and her brother.

You'd never have guessed that their visit would end up being a very special memory for you, too.

[luminitewrites]

Nova

Rating: T Word Count: ~5,700 Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond

So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;) This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.

Enjoy!

~~~

The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.

You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.

But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.

Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.

He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.

You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.

When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.

Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.

As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.

“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.

Nothing but ocean responds.

A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.

In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.

Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”

The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.

And yet, you still fall for it every time.

You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.

“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.

Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.

You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.

“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”

The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.

As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.

Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.

When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.

However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.

You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.

“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.

Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.

“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.

Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend. 

He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug. 

You snort at the little—large—devil.

“Just what was that for anyways?”

The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.

Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming. 

“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”

Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”

More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.

You hastily retreat, hands lifting.

“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”

Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.

Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.

You give a plaintive sigh.

“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.

He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability. 

With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.

You smile up at him.

“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”

Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.

It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.

Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.

You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.

Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.

Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.

Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.

Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.

It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.

 A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.

Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.

“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”

Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.

But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.

In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.

“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.

The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.

You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.

“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”

Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.

“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”

Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.

“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”

An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.

You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.

The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.

Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.

Not my fault.

Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin. 

While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.

The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.

Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?

Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.

Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.

Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.

“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”

Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.

You hold up a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”

Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.

Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.

He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.

Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.

Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”

A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.

“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”

Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.

Talented yourself.

Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.

“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”

Dark pupils roll.

Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.

You blow a raspberry.

“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”

By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.

You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.

Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.

“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.

Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.

You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.

Your smile is small and appreciative.

“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”

Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.

The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with. 

A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.

The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.

Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.

Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.

Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last. 

Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.

Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.

A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.

“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.

Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.

If you say so, sea star.

You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.

“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.

If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.

His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.

It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form. 

Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need. 

Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.

Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.

You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.

[robotpussy]

I cannot believe I have to make this post but please beware of the blog @/ablogsupport. they formally went by dreamerdollface but the blog has since now deactivated. there is already a post about them that states it is very likely they could be a scammer, and I'm not calling this blog/person a scammer but I'm just warning others due to their behaviour being reminiscent of those who scam on here

I will post the screenshots under a cut so I can fully explain what has been happening without this post being too long.

TW BRUISES AND ABUSE MENTION

I will be posting their pinned donation post (so I am not leaking anything that isn't public) here. this post went a around for a few days during the last week of February.

this then lead to a post being made saying they may be a scammer. the post has since then been deleted because dreamerdollface tried to contact the person who made the post. in response to the call out this post was made:

now before the callout was made, this user messaged me asking for £450

because this was sent before the post I did say I could donate something small as I really don't have alot of money on me right and I am always willing to support and help especially if you message me with proof that you genuinely need the help. but after it was made I was very reluctant to give anything away.

But because of the post providing "proof" I gave in and sent her some money. I am very aware I am in the wrong and I'm not saying she is a scammer Im just making this post because this is very unusual behaviour.

I am going to add a reblog to this that will explain my skepticism.

but for a brief overview, She has been consistently asking me for money every few hours even though I keep telling her I do not have that amount of money. I am only able to add one more screenshot but I will explain this some more in the reblog:

as you can see the amount she wanted got lower and I seriously cannot afford to support her. I will reblog this post with more of what happened to prove why I am skeptical of this user.

[anmiruzu]

(anon who requested riddle for the event: i meant prompt 6. the trick-or-treating one. sorry.)

to skip and go trick-or-treating

a/n i like how in-character this would be for him especially since his mother was strict with him growing up so now let’s hope he’s in character (´･ω･`) …also i made this a little long oops

-472 words-

October second,

riddle rosehearts; prompt 06: “what do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating before?!”

as someone from another world, you didn’t think that many of your holidays and traditions would be celebrated here, referring to halloween and many others. but what surprised you more was that there were actually people who did not go trick-or-treating when they were younger.

“what do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating before?!” you exclaim loudly in shock not expecting this revelation.

“well, my mother had always told me that it was a worthless tradition and that candy and sweets in general are not good for my health-”

you interrupt him, “still! to never trick or treat? not even once?”

you never expected this but this was riddle, a hard worker who was strict on both himself and others. so it wasn’t too far-fetched of a story although if it was ace, you would’ve called bullshit on him.

“not even once” riddle repeats, shaking his head. 

you ponder for a moment in thought before speaking up again, “then let’s go trick-or-treating”

“we’re in college, y/n, furthermore, we, more specifically heartslabyul still have to prepare the botanical garden for halloween week.” (i know it’s more of a high school kind of setting considering their ages but it’s called night raven college so just pretend)

“so?”

“‘so?’ we still have our responsibilities! as the housewarden of heartslabyul, i cannot just leave my upper and underclassmen by themselves!” riddle retorts back quite passionately despite knowing deep down he wants to try trick-or-treating, just once, despite knowing he’s much too old for it. 

“hmm” you pause in thought once again, “then i’ll help you prepare; I did promise ace and deuce i’d help them… but… only if you skip the last day with me”

you reason with riddle wanting to show him what he missed out in his childhood.

“...thank you for your assistance, however, i’m afraid i cannot do that”

>>>

after a very long time of persuading the housewarden, riddle agrees; reluctantly but is he really being reluctant? He had always wanted to try trick-or-treating and was always jealous of the neighborhood kids who he saw happily go from house to house.

so when halloween comes around, riddle leaves his post early feeling a little guilty, to go find you.

“riddle! hey!” you wave to him feeling excited, after all, it’s been years since you last trick-or-treated with your friends.   

“hello” riddle greets you, a bit ashamed for skipping even though he did tell everyone at heartslabyul that he would take off early for “personal reasons.”

after meeting up with riddle the two of you took off going on a bus to one the nearby neighborhoods.

>>>

you hadn’t anticipated how awkward it would be; two college students running around from house to house, clearly too old to be trick-or-treating. but in the end it was the most fun you two had in years. 

{31 daydreams of halloween event lineup}

{twisted wonderland masterlist}

[queerholmcs]

okay. you know the drill. i do need to elaborate on some of these, moreso than is allowed within the character limit of the polls; see the read more at the bottom of the post. yes it gets a bit long, i'm sorry, i'm not normal about this show, we've established this.

stop making me watch this. this is indecent. this is not suitable for public television. please get a room.

they all know sherlock and they know that he's insane. where they go wrong is in assuming that john must then be the sane one of the pair of them. (save mycroft; see number five.)

'here, use mine' as the obvious opener. but then we also get the bit where john returns to baker street and sherlock's like 'oh haha yeah i called you across town to ask you to send a text' and john gives him the most exasperated, reluctant look before giving sherlock his phone (heart). because at this point, there is no other option. (i won't say more. essays have already been written on the matter.)

the way a point is made to demonstrate sherlock's deliberate ignorance of molly's attempts at flirting. and john's painfully awkward attempts to hit on mycroft's PA. contrasted with their every moment on screen together. 'we can't giggle, it's a crime scene!' SHUT UP.

where do i start with this one. (mycroft is my favourite. i'm not sorry.) he puts so much effort into this stupid little trick and john completely holds his own against him. he's also the only one to see that john is also not sane and that as much as sherlock is going to be some sort of influence on john, john is going to do the same to sherlock. 'might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?' → 'i can see from your left hand that's not going to happen' → 'time to choose a side.' hello??????? thank goodness mark gatiss mycroft holmes is here to spell things out for us.

it all starts when john says 'i looked you up on the internet last night' (weird move, it has to be said) and then doesn't immediately praise sherlock's blog. but then he also doesn't tell sherlock to piss off for deducing him and airing his family secrets like that? and from that point on, every remotely clever thing sherlock says, he looks to john for his response. ('do you know you do that out loud?' 'sorry, i'll shut up.' 'no, it's... fine.') i maintain that he only points out anderson and donovan's little affair to show off for john.

look. do i even have to say anything here. we establish that everyone sherlock interacts with thinks he's gay. we establish that john and sherlock are both unattached and that girlfriends definitely aren't sherlock's area and that it's fine to have a boyfriend, by the way, john thinks this is fine, just if you wondered, he's also unattached and it's fine if girls aren't your cup of tea and have we mentioned they're both unattached? and they have what is about the most intimate eye contact ever for far too long while doing so.

chance or chess? play the game. engage with the story. read between the lines. is it a bluff? or a double bluff? or a triple bluff? play the game. (mention the game one more time. i dare you. shut up.)

this is in both the physical and the metaphorical sense. they have no concept of personal space, either of them, and it is a bit awkward for everyone else in the room who's forced to watch them make bedroom eyes at each other. on the metaphorical side—john is the first to say 'actually, it's not obvious, so get on with it and share your thoughts with the class, would you?' and '...bit not good, yeah. maybe be slightly more sensitive to people's emotions, there.' and 'you're so full of it. you absolutely do guess, admit it, i can tell when you're lying.' lestrade watches them interact for all of ten minutes and then declares that, though he's known sherlock for five years, he still doesn't know sherlock nearly as well as john does.

who is he? well, he's with sherlock. it's sherlock holmes and doctor watson. they're a set. (do not separate!) they go together, they are defined by each other, they balance each other far too perfectly to ever be removed again. welcome to The Dynamic. you'll never know peace again. (or is that just me?)

[roo-bastmoon]

BTS Tutorial: Pandora's Unlimited Looping

As Whoopi Goldberg once famously said in the movie Ghost: "You in danger, girl." Many chart accounts on Twitter are saying our streams have Jimin dropping out of the Top 20 already.

Looping on Pandora is a crucial strategy at a critical time when YouTube is deleting views, radio is reluctant, and our Spotify playlists must support several members. We must make use of all tools available.

Please read this post and share the link to this tutorial with all big accounts and your social media. We need all hands on deck.

Pandora is an old and trusted streaming service that counts for Billboard charts.

If you have a free 90-day premium trial, it lets you make your own playlist that you can loop for 24 straight hours without clicking around or signing in.

Here's why you don't want to just use the free version:

--the streams count three times LESS than premium streams

--Pandora will auto-play other songs in between the songs you want

--there are constant ads you have to sit through to get to a song

So just bite the bullet and use a free trial. It's good for months and they will remind you before you get charged!

Okay, so, let's assume you've been a good ARMY and you've made your free premium Pandora account.

You want to start straight away searching for songs to save into MY COLLECTION.

Today, we need to make a playlist to promote Face--specifically Like Crazy. (We can also use this strategy later to help all of BT'S songs. Our goal right now is to prevent freefall in Week 3 before D-Day is out. But this will be good practice for all our boys once we get it down pat, especially if YouTube doesn't get straightened out!)

My playlist looks like this:

Now look here. There are 1,440 minutes in a day. We know Like Crazy is 3:32 minutes long. In theory, you could loop this song 410+ times in a day and all those plays will count. We know that 150 premium streams is the equivalent of buying the song once, so looping like this is like buying the song twice that day.

THIS IS HOW WE BEAT THE DROP IN SALES AND CULLED VIEWS.

I am not saying you shouldn't buy. You should. In fact, both SHERRY and JIMIN FUNDS will be prioritizing Like Crazy digitals in Week 3, so please buy if you are US/PR ARMY and can make new accounts!

Either way, when you make a Pandora playlist of all of Jimin's Like Crazy versions, remember to click that loop button once on the bottom ribbon:

And then just sit back every day and let those streams pour in.

Puppykitties, I know you must be so tired. I have an eyestrain migraine a mile wide and am not supposed to be on the computer right now. I'm certain the last thing you want to do is delve into making new accounts when you're already working hard.

Word on the street is that using Pandora WORKS WONDERS:

We already know this is a tried and true technique for other K-pop fandoms whom I will not be mentioning here. I appreciate their hard work and respect the knowledge they've earned. Please leave them alone. ARMY needs to focus on BTS and make good use of the techniques they have learned.

For visual learners, here's an instructional video on setting up Pandora, but honestly, it's pretty intuitive.

PLEASE COPY THE LINK TO THIS TUTORIAL AND SEND IT TO EVERY MAJOR JIMIN-SUPPORTING ACCOUNT YOU KNOW ON TWITTER AND TUMBLR.

I know we have some very important conversations that need to be had, but I strongly feel we need to put shipping and solo discourse aside right now. We are losing precious time because ARMY is reluctant to use this app. But we cannot maintain buying records like we did for the first two weeks of Face.

We NEED to use Pandora--in addition to requesting radio play and using Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, YouTube, and Facebook-- and hope those streams supplement sales drops.

Please do not abandon any platform even if they frustrate you. I'm just saying I don't think I can over-emphasize how crucial Pandora is going to be for Week 3 for Jimin. And isn't Jimin what unites us all?

I really, really need your help to get all major Jimin accounts familiarized and on board with this, so Jimin fans can hop on Pandora early this week and go hard. It is the most effective use of our energy right now.

FIGHTING!

Love, Roo

P.S.

To my friends tagged below, any help spread the word is deeply appreciated. Thank you all!

@chikooritajjk

@stormblessed95

@shellbells-things

@ejassy

@mariajmajesty

@kanmom51

@kmgoogiemin

@sunandmoonjikook

@minggukieology

@dgtn