#i'm at least trying to make it seem that way

[erwinsvow]

please do bsf rafe flirting with reader while he’s drunk and she’s trying to put him to bed but he just cuddles her and tells her how much he has feelings for her

this with kook trio readerrr omg <3 in my head, rafe's version of admitting feelings is being aggressively posessive. when they finally start dating shes like why didnt you say something sooner? and hes like wym ive been claiming you since the start

you were so used to rafe taking care of you—bringing you home to tannyhill with him, making sure you took a tylenol before you fell asleep on his bed, a clean frat shirt of his waiting for you in the bathroom.

he was such a good friend to you. when times like this came along, you tried your best to repay the favor.

you think rafe's got it easier, though. he alway manhandles you into position, can carry you up the stairs when you're stumbling and force the pill and water down your throat when you're resisting. you're usually too drunk to remember rafe's hand on your jaw, opening your mouth for you and trying to coax you into taking it, telling you repeatedly you'll be grateful he did it in the morning.

"you are such a dick," you mutter, staring at the bottle of tylenol in your hand and the empty cup of water on the nightstand. he's just spilled the water all over his floor in a drunken stupor, and you suddenly hate that he ever made you feel bad about how much he has to take care of you when you're the drunk one.

rafe is ten times worse than you could ever be.

"thinkin 'bout my dick, are'ya?" he slurs back at you, and then laughs at his own joke. he's laying flat on his bed now, still in the same clothes he wore to the party, shoes and watch still on. getting him into the house and up the stairs was hard enough, even with top and kelce's help, but they'd jumped ship the second you got rafe into bed.

"all yours now, princess," kelce said, grabbing the keys to his car.

"yeah, good luck. i've never seen him so drunk," top adds.

"you're both just leaving me with him?" you cry out, but the hallway is empty when you finally get your wrist out of rafe's grip. rafe had mumbled something from his position, but you hadn't heard it.

twenty minutes later, you still hadn't gotten rafe to drink any water or change his clothes. all his energy seemed to be focused on getting you to curl up next to him.

"c'mon! just get into bed, m'fuckin tired-" he grumbles again, latching onto your arm while you try to at least get his shoes off.

"you can't sleep with your sneakers on, rafe-"

"who cares? i like my sneakers-"

"that's great, but your sheets-"

"but not as much as i like you. hah. that's fuckin' cheesy." you turn to look at your drunken best friend, his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes are closed while talking to you. you laugh, unable to hold it back.

"thanks, rafe. i like you too. enough to get your shoes off because you will so regret this tomorrow morning."

"don't regret anything." his eyes open, staring at you while you stare at his shoes. "shit. you're pretty."

you don't even address his comment—he's drunk beyond belief and you know you're pretty. after you untie his laces for him, he kicks off his shoes. you sigh a breath of relief.

"okay, rafe, do you want to sleep in these clothes or should i find pajamas?"

"how 'bout we sleep naked? there's an idea."

"stop being a perv. otherwise i'm gonna go cuddle with kelce instead." you laugh to yourself—the whole thing is a joke. you and rafe don't cuddle, at least not on purpose. you go to bed facing him but somehow always wake up with your limbs tangled and your hair in his face.

"sure. if you want me to kill kelce."

"oh my god, dramatic much?" you turn back to rafe to see if he's laughing, but he's not, looking right at you and sitting up.

"m'not kidding. don't joke about that. you're fuckin' mine, don't forget it."

he lays back down. you pause, eyebrows knitting while you think about the sentence rafe just said. he's drunk, so he must be joking. right?

"c'mon wanna sleep. get into bed." he grumbles again, and you comply, still a little shellshocked. you turn off the lamp and get into bed, and you don't even feel surprised when rafe pulls you in. you rest your head against his chest, and you don't stop thinking about what he said until you fall asleep.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (11/?)

Part Summary: You listen, and her reasons make sense, but they don't ease the tightness gripping your heart. Knowing how well Leigh understands the control she holds over you leaves you feeling exposed, almost humiliated. It feels manipulative, whether she intended it or not.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.300+ | Warnings: Angst | Author's note: Buckle up you guys.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X

-

You've never looked at Leigh this way before. 

Not even when she confronted you months ago, a formidable presence with a devastating revelation that shattered what you thought was a straightforward affair with a single man. Not even when she accused you of lying, or when she consistently made things difficult for you. 

Now, you look at her as if she's an entirely different person. And from the way you fall back, it's obvious you don't particularly like what you see. Leigh hadn't realized just how painful it could be to be looked at in such a way. With each of your steps, panic swells inside her. Though you're only a few feet away, it feels as if you've drifted oceans apart. She can't reach you, and the growing distance makes her fear she never will.

“What did you say?” you repeat slowly, each syllable dropping like a stone—deliberate and heavy.

Your eyes, hard and cold, fix on her. It’s an unsettling sight; she'd almost prefer your anger. Anger, at least, is a familiar adversary, a clear-cut emotion she has long helmed and appeased within herself. She understands anger, knows how to quell it, how to unravel it into something resembling forgiveness or at least a truce. But this wounded belief—she doesn’t know what to do with it. It doesn’t want loud arguments or quick fixes. Instead, it seems to demand something she finds far harder to give: an explanation of motives she's not sure she fully understands herself.

“Your eyes are... enthralling?” Leigh stammers out, her voice quivering slightly as she attempts some self-preservation. She regrets the words as soon as they slip out, sounding hollow and clumsy to her own ears.

You don't laugh, or even react much at all, except to say, “You know that's not what I'm talking about.”

Leigh’s heart sinks a bit more. She winces, shaking her head, realizing the frivolous comment has fallen flat, doing nothing to undo the damage. In the end, she can’t bring herself to say what she knows you want to hear.

“After all this time, how…? How do you know about that nickname?” you ask, maintaining a façade of indifference though you can feel the cracks forming. 

“I work for the website,” Leigh says, her eyes dropping to the floor when she hears you take in a sharp breath. “I used to run the advice column there. But when Matt died, I couldn't handle it anymore and I left.” She stops for a moment, her gaze flickering back to you, searching for a reaction, but you remain silent, your expression unreadable. 

“They brought me back recently, just as a contributor. I wasn't sure how to tell you. It's part of how I'm trying to move on, getting back into writing, even though it feels different now,” she adds somberly.

“So, did you just read my entries and figure out it was me from what I wrote?” you ask, your voice low and uncertain.

Leigh swallows dryly, steeling herself for what she has to say next. “Not only did I read your entries,” she admits slowly, her voice a whisper of trepidation, “but I was the one replying to them.”

After her confession, Leigh struggles to meet your eyes. Her ears are filled with the loud rush of her heartbeat, thumping wildly as the seconds tick by without a word from you. Time seems suspended, and when you don't speak, move, or give any indication of your thoughts, dread begins to creep into the edges of her mind.

“I was going to tell you,” Leigh murmurs, the words barely escaping her lips. Your arms cross over your chest, sealing yourself off even more. She feels you slipping further away, when just moments earlier, you had been kissing the life out of her, as if trying to breathe her in. 

This can’t be happening, Leigh thinks. It just can’t.

“When?” you scoff. “When you’re… what? Done with your revenge?”

Leigh’s brow furrows at the accusation. “Revenge?”

“Isn’t that what this is about?” you ask, retreating until your back meets the wall, leaning heavily against it. Leigh notices the fatigue etched into your features, as if the realization that she knew about your submissions and was the one responding to them is more than you can bear.

“I don’t—”

“Payback for what went on between me and Matt?” 

“Y/N,” Leigh utters your name hard, like a deity in her prayers. “You’re misunderstanding this—”

“Am I?” you challenge, your voice rising.  You don't care if the neighbors hear; you’ve never met any of them anyway. “I remember a ‘Gigi Herrel’ advising me to move on, to meet other people, to pursue someone else—”

Your words become stuck in your throat as you realize that ‘Gigi Herrel’ is an anagram for ‘Leigh Greer.’ How could you have missed it? How could you have been so blind?

Leigh aches to reach out to you, to touch you and reassure you that she never meant any harm, that her intentions were never what you're accusing her of. But her hands remain at her sides, afraid you might recoil or push her away. She worries that one wrong move could drive you away for good.

“I never meant to hurt you. Please, Y/N,” she begs, her voice trembling with an urgency neither of you thought she was capable of. “I was trying to protect you—from myself. I’m a mess, Y/N. I’ve been a mess since Matt…” Leigh trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You thought toying with my feelings was protection?”

“I wasn’t!” Leigh objects forcefully.

You slump to the ground, your strength giving out as a sharp, nail-like pain spreads through your head. You bury your face in your hands, fingers pressing into your temples, while Leigh sits across from you, her hands nervously twisting together.

Quietly, you voice your frustrations. “If it wasn't a game, then why do I feel like I've been losing all this time? Things would be fine between us, and then suddenly, you'd ignore me. My texts went unanswered, my messages unseen for days. It felt like you weren't even treating me right as a friend. I'd drive myself crazy wondering if I said something wrong or did something wrong… It feels like I'm always walking on eggshells. So, if it wasn't a game, tell me you didn't do those things on purpose. Because if not, then you were awful to me without even trying. You know that, right?”

Leigh's eyes brim with remorse. She quickly wipes at her eyes before a tear can fall, trying to maintain her composure in front of you.. “I would never play games with you,” she implores. “I've been in pieces for so long that I've forgotten what it means to be whole. When I found out about your feelings, I didn’t understand them. I couldn't see how it could happen when I wasn't my best self.

“I pushed you away because I was scared of letting you see the real me—the broken, messy parts. I thought that if you got too close, saw too much, you'd realize there wasn't much to hold onto. That eventually, you'd see me the way I see myself and end up disappointed.” Her voice trembles, betraying the strength she tries to project.

You listen, and her reasons make sense, but they don't ease the tightness gripping your heart. Knowing how well Leigh understands the control she holds over you leaves you feeling exposed, almost humiliated. It feels manipulative, whether she intended it or not.

“You knew how I felt about you, Leigh,” you say, your lips curving into a wistful smile. “I understand that you're hurting and that being scared is part of it, but it doesn't justify leaving me hanging, wondering where I stand with you, feeling like I'm just... waiting for you to decide I'm worth your time.”

Leigh nods slowly. “I realize that now, and I'm so sorry. It wasn't fair to you. I was trying to manage my own issues, but I ended up projecting them onto you.”

You look into her eyes, searching for a sign that the change you need from her is possible. “Being broken isn't a reason to break others,” you say.

Leigh flinches slightly, your words hitting home. “You’re absolutely right,” she agrees, her eyes unblinking. You can tell that if you were to list her faults, she would agree and confess to them all just to resolve things right here and now. But that's not what you want, nor what you need from her.

“Y/N,” Leigh's voice almost breaks as she says your name. “Will you forgive me?”

Yes, you think instinctively. Forgiving Leigh feels almost second nature. But actually saying it out loud right now would set a course you're not sure you're ready to follow. Trust has been strained and rebuilding it isn't as simple as uttering a single word of forgiveness.

Leigh looks at you expectantly, anxiety lining her features. “Y/N?” she repeats softly.

You understand what she's silently asking: if there's a chance to reset everything. But you're not ready to commit to an answer. Offering her any assurance now might only lead to false hopes, especially if you later decide a real relationship isn't possible. Part of you wants to give in, to return to her embrace and pick up where you left off. But another part, perhaps the more rational side, holds you back.

“Leigh, I... can we just... I need some time to think,” you finally say. Disappointment flashes across her face, almost imperceptible but unmistakably there. As Leigh stands, you expect her to quietly leave, respecting your need for space. Instead, she spins around to face you with renewed determination.

“I'm not a perfect person, okay?” she whispers, but you can still sense the rough edges around her voice. This is a side of Leigh you're all too familiar with, having felt the sting of her impatience and temper more times than you'd like. But instead of rising to the challenge, you simply feel drained—too exhausted to argue tonight.

“You don't have to be perfect, Leigh,” you say, more tired than angry. Then, almost impulsively, you ask, “Does Danny know you’re here?”

Leigh's composure slips for just a moment at the mention of his name. Guilt or surprise crosses her face like a shadow, only to vanish as quickly as it appeared. Her jaw tightens, and you sense her displeasure at the topic. “No, he doesn't know I'm here,” she says curtly.

Well, at least she’s being honest. But what were you expecting—that her presence here meant she had chosen you?

“You need some time to think too,” you say, pushing yourself up and moving toward the door. Leigh's expression stiffens as her eyes follow your movements. You open the door, gesturing for her to leave. She approaches, hesitating just short of it, her gaze searching for the right words or maybe just some reassurance, but finding neither.

“I'm sorry,” she murmurs, her defiance fading. “This isn't how I imagined tonight would go. I don't regret what happened, really, but I hate that it ended up hurting you. That's not why I came here.”

“I know,” you reply, unsure of what else to say. 

Leigh starts to leave, then hesitates again just before crossing the threshold. “Can I contact you?”

You let out a sigh. "Good night, Leigh."

She swallows hard and nods slowly. “Bye,” she whispers.

You gently close the door after her and lean against it for a moment. Leigh has turned your world upside down more times than you can count, and you two haven't even truly begun.

-

“Do you ever just think about disappearing?”

Jules lifts her head to look at her sister. They lie side by side at the foot of Leigh's bed, with empty glasses of milk on the floor next to them and an open pack of Oreos, an invitation for the ants.

The night before, after the whole debacle with you finding out she’s been answering your advice submissions, Leigh had come home with her lips still tingling and her stomach in knots. She had almost run to her room in a huff, drawing puzzled looks from Jules and Amy, before slamming her bedroom door shut. They knew better than to ask what was wrong and wisely kept their distance. That was, until Leigh didn't come out of her room the entire morning until afternoon, except for a quick trip to the kitchen for some food, and even then, she was wearing the same clothes as the day before. A single whiff from a few feet away also made it clear she hadn't showered either. 

Worried, Jules decided to intervene with a little gesture that she hoped might coax her sister out of her shell. She grabbed a packet of Oreos from the pantry and poured a glass of milk—Leigh’s comfort snack since childhood—and tapped softly on her sister's door. Leigh didn’t answer. She tried the knob, found it unlocked, and pushed the door open. The sight of Leigh, all disheveled and pale with those heavy bags under her eyes, took Jules right back to those first several days after they learned Matt had been found dead at the bottom of a cliff.

Jules lifts her head to look at her sister. “Leigh, you're scaring me. You know that, right?”

Leigh quickly shakes her head, realizing how her words sounded. “No, no, I don’t mean like that. Not disappearing in the way Matt did.” She sighs, throwing an arm over her eyes. “I just mean... rebooting, you know? Wishing we could rewind to before everything got so complicated.”

Relieved by the clarification, Jules settles back down beside her. They both gaze up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I wish I never tasted alcohol when I was fifteen,” Jules says suddenly. 

Leigh frowns. “That bad, huh?”

Jules smiles wryly and nods. “Yeah. Some choices just stick with you, you know? Can’t undo them. Just have to live with what comes after.”

Leigh's thoughts drift as she listens to Jules, a rueful smile crossing her lips. “You know, I've got my own list of should've, would've, could've. I always thought I'd finish college, maybe become an editor or write something of my own one day.”

Jules tries to offer a silver lining. “But you don’t need a degree to be a writer, Leigh.”

“Yeah, I know,” Leigh mumbles, tracing a pattern on the bedspread absentmindedly. “It's just... having that formal education might have made things easier. Like being pushed by mentors... or the doors it would've opened, the people I would've met. But more than that, I regret not sticking it out. I quit too easily.”

Then, turning on her side with her back to Jules, she continues, “But in the end, it all circles back to Matt somehow. This… this inability to follow through really got to me after he was gone. We had so many plans, so many dreams together. And now none of them will ever happen.”

“You still really love him, don't you?”

Leigh’s answer is slow to come. “Yes,” Leigh whispers, her reply muffled slightly by the pillow. After a moment, she adds, “And no.”

Before Jules can comment on it, she continues, “It’s like… I love who we were, who he was to me. And I love all the memories, every plan we made, every silly promise. But,” she stops, picking her words carefully, “but there’s also this part of me that’s learning to live without that, to not need it so much. It feels like moving on, and that part doesn’t love the pain, doesn’t want to keep holding on if it just hurts.”

Jules reaches out, resting her hand on Leigh’s shoulder, offering a silent show of support. “And, um, does that tie into why you were so upset last night?”

Leigh's laugh is faint and strained. “Yes,” she says softly, “and no.” Then she rolls over to face Jules, burying the lower half of her face in the blankets.

“How so?”

“It’s complicated, Jules. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Alright,” Jules huffs. “I’ll guide you then. Does it have something to do with what I said about Y/N seeing Sara?”

Leigh doesn't answer. Instead, she sits up, letting the blanket fall around her lap as the steady breeze from the air conditioning causes her skin to prickle with goosebumps. 

Jules sits up as well. “It's fine to be upset over her. You can grieve for others too, not just Matt. You can’t keep using him as the reason for all your pain. If you want to handle this, you’ve got to figure out what you're really up against.”

“Since when did you start playing therapist?”

Jules smirks. “Rehab over the past five years teaches you some things.”

Leigh forces a smile. She knows Jules jokes to cope, using humor to deal with everything she’s been through. Taking a breath, Leigh says, “I saw her last night.”

“I figured,” Jules says with a knowing look. “You dashed out of the house without even putting on a bra.”

Leigh covers her face, cringing. “You noticed that?”

Jules chuckles. “Well, it's not like any of us, including Mom, bothers wearing one around the house,” she jokes, and they both laugh. “So, did you actually forget to put one on, or…?”

Leigh rolls her eyes and gives Jules a light elbow to the side. “I forgot, okay?”

Jules grins, teasing, “Well, not like it got you any action considering how annoyed you looked when you got back last night.”

Leigh goes quiet, her eyes flitting around the room. “Well, actually…”

Jules leans in, eyes wide. “Oh my god, something happened?”

Leigh bites her lower lip. “We…kissed.”

Jules's brow creases together. “And it was that bad? You looked miserable and locked yourself up all day. Was it really just because of a bad kiss?”

“It wasn’t,” Leigh corrects her quickly. “It was good. Like, really good.” She must look a bit dreamy thinking back on it because Jules grabs a pillow and playfully smacks her in the face.

“Alright, be serious,” Jules says, fighting to keep a straight face. “What really happened?”

Leigh sniffs, clearly reluctant to revisit the details but she begins recounting it for Jules. She explains how she received a submission for the advice column she writes for, from someone using the pseudonym ‘EspressoEyes.’ It arrived on her birthday and was intriguing enough that she responded immediately. She had no idea it was you, but as the details matched too perfectly with your birthday surprise, she started to connect the dots. Then came another question, so on point that she couldn't chalk it up to coincidence anymore. After the kiss you shared last night, she let slip that you truly have espresso eyes. 

“...and that's when everything fell apart,” Leigh finishes, flopping back onto the mattress with a bounce, face down, her hair fanning out around her.

Leigh waits for Jules to react, to say anything. But her sister doesn’t speak or even make a sound for a long time, and just as she’s about to sneak a peek at her sister, curious and a bit anxious, Jules says, “Honestly, if I were Y/N, I’d be very much horrified too.”

Leigh gives her a look that’s both curious and wary. “Yeah?”

“Telling someone you have feelings for them is scary,” Jules explains. “Imagine finding out that the feelings you’ve been hiding came out in such a vulnerable, almost embarrassing way.”

“I guess you’re right,” Leigh concedes.

“But,” Jules continues, “the real problem is that you didn't address it right after you figured it out. You let her pine for you before pulling her in.”

Leigh nods and grabs an Oreo from the floor, popping the whole thing into her mouth. “And I still don't know why I confronted Y/N about Sara right away. By the way, you're an asshole for that, Jules. Y/N isn't dating Sara.”

Jules just grins, completely unabashed. “I know. But it was fun seeing you all riled up.”

Leigh sighs, the cookie in her mouth losing its sweetness. “I feel so stupid for needing that push. I didn't even realize what was happening. It felt like being hit by a truck when I realized I wanted her. And I didn't trust it, you know? Especially since I haven't even been into women since my ex in college.”

Jules studies her sister thoughtfully. “So, what now that you've messed up?”

Leigh looks away, her face shrouded with uncertainty. She wishes she had a definite answer, but she knows only time will tell. “She said she needs some time to think, and I'll give her as much as she needs.”

“And in the meantime,” Jules asks, her eyes brightening with a bit too much enthusiasm, “are you going to break up with Danny?”

“Right,” Leigh mutters weakly, “I almost forgot about Danny.”

-

You carefully place your rental bike against the railing on the front porch, careful not to scratch the paint. After spending a year in sunny Los Angeles, the crisp autumn air of Camden, Maine, nips at your cheeks, reminding you just how unaccustomed you've become to the cold. You pull your bomber jacket tighter around your body, a futile shield against the chill, and find yourself yearning for the relentless sun that’s now hiding above the clouds of your hometown.

The aroma of blueberry pie wafts from the slightly ajar front door of the Ranch style home where you spent most of your childhood, drawing you irresistibly towards the warmth inside. From where you stand, you can see the boats bobbing in the harbor, their masts swaying gently in the breeze. You can nearly taste the ocean’s saltiness, brought back vividly through memories of sailing with your father.

“Mom?” you call out as you step inside after removing your shoes. “I’m home!”

Your mom appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted apron. She looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees you, and she quickly closes the distance to wrap you in a tight hug. Over the years, she’s grown shorter, now standing three inches below you. As she hugs you, you rest your cheek on her salt-and-pepper hair, which smells sweetly of sugar and blueberries.

“Welcome home, honey,” she says, her voice muffled against your jacket. “I wasn't expecting you until dinner.”

“I managed to catch an earlier flight,” you say, squeezing her a little tighter. “Where's Morris?” you ask, referring to her partner and the man who's been sort of a stepdad to you, although your mom and he never got married. They've been sharing this home for the last ten years.

“He's out back,” she replies, pointing towards the yard through the kitchen window. “He's been trying to get the garden ready for winter before the frost sets in.”

You hum in response, dropping your duffel onto the couch nearby.

“Are you hungry?” your mom asks, turning towards the fridge.

“Am I too early for the pie?” you ask, your stomach rumbling at the thought.

Your mom turns around with a wide, toothy grin. “You made it just in time.”

-

Your bedroom is just as you left it last year, preserved in time. Your mom has kept the dust at bay, and the sheets feel freshly laundered, as if you'd only left them hours ago. Instinctively, you gravitate towards the shelves lined with various framed photos of your family. Smiling faces of your brother and your father gaze back at you from the pictures, and a warm, nostalgic smile spreads across your face. You feel a pang of yearning for them—it's been too long.

With a sigh, you collapse onto the bed and pull out your phone. As promised, Leigh hasn’t made any attempts to reach out to you. Without thinking, you browse through her social media accounts, though there's nothing new since you discovered she knew about your feelings all along. Nonetheless, you scroll through her old photos, the ones from before she was widowed, where her smiles seem effortless and full of confidence, as if happiness was her default.

You miss her; that much you can't deny. But you're still hurt, not just because she didn't come clean about her discovery, but also because of the way she often treated you—the hot and cold attitude, the confusion, the lack of kindness and consideration. Time and again, you've given her the benefit of the doubt, especially considering she's grieving a loved one with a secret that further complicated his passing. You understand loss, having faced it yourself, but you've never allowed your grief to justify lashing out at others or toying with someone's emotions. It makes you wonder how you even fell for her in the first place. 

Before you know it, your eyelids grow heavy and you nod off, your phone slipping onto the comforter. You're not sure how long you've been out when a soft knock on your door jolts you awake.

“Come in,” you mumble, still half in a daze as you rub your eyes.

The door creaks open and your mom pops her head in. “Dinner's almost ready,” she says with a warm smile. “Want to come down and help me set the table?”

You nod. “Can you give me five minutes? I promise I'll help.”

Without waiting for a response, she walks over to sit beside you on the bed, gently stroking your hair as if you were still a child. “What’s wrong?” she asks softly. Your mother has always been your confidante, able to read you like an open book. You can't hide anything from her; she'll know.

“I keep falling for the wrong person,” you say, offering a bittersweet smile.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Love is more complicated than the right or wrong person. We're all a combination of good and bad; it's just a matter of deciding whether it's worth it in the end.”

You reflect on your past relationships, few though they are, and realize you're better off without them. They were either taking what they could get or using you as a fallback for their own misery.

“Do you feel like this person could be worth it?” she asks.

“I honestly don’t know,” you say. “It’s all so uncertain.”

“And that's fine,” she says. “Love isn't a sprint. Give yourself the space to figure it out.”

You're finding it hard to agree with her. If only the answers could be handed to you, saving you from future heartbreak. Why do some lessons have to be learned the hard way? Why don't people come with warnings and expectations?

Noticing how unconvinced you seem, your mom offers an idea.

“Tell you what, let's ask Morris to set the table for us. How about you and I go see your brother and father before dinner?”

-

You and your mom walk side by side through the cemetery, hands clasped together. You haven’t visited your father and brother’s graves in over a year, and you've been fighting back tears since leaving the house.

Your mom unfurls a thick blanket over the damp grass, spreading it out with care before you both settle onto it. She surprises you by pulling out a bottle of white wine from her bag. You lift an eyebrow, and she laughs, saying, “In my defense, I used to drink stronger liquor back in the day.”

You chuckle, picking up an empty glass and holding it out. “Pour me one.”

She fills your glass before pouring her own, and the two of you sit there, sipping wine quietly. 

A few minutes later, she turns to you and says, “So, tell me about her.”

You nearly choke on your drink, surprised she knows it’s a woman. “How did you know?”

She smiles impishly. “You’ve always had poorer judgment when it comes to girls, so I figured this is what’s been on your mind.”

You can’t help but be impressed by how well she reads you. “Her name is Leigh. She's the wife of someone I used to see,” you say.

Your mom’s smile vanishes, replaced by shock. “Wait, you're saying you had an affair and now you're seeing his wife on the side?”

You burst into laughter at her horrified expression. “No, it's not like that.” Taking a deep breath, you tell her the whole story: how Matt died and how his wife, Leigh, found you after discovering Matt had cheated on her.

As your mom listens, her shock softens into contemplation. She tops up your wine and says thoughtfully, “Well, that’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it is.”

You open up to your mom about Leigh, sharing both the beautiful and terrible moments without holding back. As you recount the story, it's like rereading a passage in a book and analyzing it with new eyes. When you finish, your mother sets down her drink and says, “She's mean to you.”

You nod, draining the last of your wine.

“Loss does things to people,” she says softly. “You and I both know that better than anyone.”

“We do,” you say quietly.

Your mom regards you for a moment, then asks, “What do you see in Leigh? Why do you like her?”

You think about it, grappling with how to express the spectrum of emotions Leigh evokes in you. 

“She’s pretty, definitely, and there’s a sharpness to her that’s... captivating. She’s unapologetically herself, and it’s often really funny. But… does that sound shallow? I can’t help but feel a bit foolish listing these superficial things—”

Your mom gently places her hand on yours, stopping your words. “You don’t need a poetic reason to love someone,” she says with a small smile. “Sometimes you just do. But mostly, we feel connected to people because we recognize some part of our soul in them. Recognition is why people are together, Y/N. Can you really love a stranger?”

Perhaps it’s true. Leigh isn’t really a stranger to you. Aside from concealing her knowledge of your feelings, she never pretended to be someone she wasn't. She was honest, showing you both her strengths and flaws. And you didn’t have to like all of it. But you kept coming back, eager to uncover more of her layers.

She continues, “By the way, you must be wondering why I brought you here.”

You glance around at the headstones of your father and brother, then back at her. “Yeah, I was.”

She looks toward the gravestones, her eyes misty. “To remind you that we don’t have all the time in the world. We have to make our time count, even if it means taking risks or facing things we're afraid of. Love isn't easy, but it’s worth finding the right person and making it work.”

“What if it doesn't work out, though?” you ask.

She smiles knowingly. “If it doesn’t, at least you’ll know you gave it a chance. You won't be left wondering what could have been. And that matters.” 

She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, and you return it, feeling a bit more grounded. She waits for her words to settle in you, before asking, “You’ve already made your choice, haven’t you?”

You nod slowly, a growing sense of certainty welling up inside. “I think I have.”

“Well, then. Let’s finish our bottle and head back.”

-

“You waited until after Thanksgiving dinner to break up with me?” Danny's voice cracks as he speaks, his figure looming in the doorway of his apartment, blocking Leigh's exit. His eyes dart between anger and desperation, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a stern line. Yet, his hands are open, reaching toward her—pleading.

They had just returned from Thanksgiving dinner at the Shaws'. Leigh wanted to create one last pleasant memory with Danny, something kind to look back on. Aware of his strained relationship with his mom, she didn't want to leave him alone during the holidays by breaking up earlier. Now she accompanied him back to his apartment, planning to end things there and collect her belongings afterward.

Leigh turns to face him, her expression somber. “I just... I thought it was the right time to talk, after everything settled down.”

“After everything settled down?” Danny repeats incredulously. “You mean after we spent the whole day with your family, pretending everything was fine?”

Leigh sighs, knowing how it looks but needing him to understand. “I know how it seems, but I couldn't do it before dinner. It didn’t feel right to ruin the holiday for everyone.”

Danny steps back from the doorway, giving her space to enter. “So, you decided to ruin my night instead?”

Leigh walks inside, closing the door behind her. “I'm really sorry, Danny. I’ve felt for a while that this isn’t working, and I can't keep stringing you along.”

Danny runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing. “Is this about Matt?”

Leigh stills for a moment, considering her answer. It would be easy to say yes, to blame everything on that one pervasive loss. Matt has often been her scapegoat, but Leigh is tired of deceiving herself and others. For quite some time now, it hasn't been Matt’s absence that's been upending her world. Which is why she resolves to tell him the truth, aware that he would find out sooner or later.

Leigh sucks in a deep breath and looks Danny in the eye. “No, it's not about Matt. It's because of Y/N.”

Danny stops in his aimless tracks, his eyes narrowing. “Y/N?”

Leigh feels her heart race, knowing she can’t back down now. “Two weeks ago… we kissed.”

He blinks, stunned. “You kissed Y/N?” His voice is flat, almost disbelieving.

“It wasn’t planned, but... it happened. And it felt right, in a way I can’t ignore,” Leigh says.

Danny crosses his arms, scoffing. “I didn't know you were into women,” he says with a sneer, as if trying to insult her.

Leigh grits her teeth. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Clearly,” he replies bitterly. “So how many times? How long have you been cheating on me?”

Leigh shakes her head, holding her ground. “I didn’t purposely cheat on you, Danny. I didn’t even realize I had strong feelings for her until that night. It just happened.”

Danny's face contorts with rage, and he yells, “Stop lying to me, Leigh! You fucking checked out of this relationship a while ago, and now it makes sense. You were screwing someone else on the side.”

Leigh protests, “We’ve never slept—” but her words are cut off as Danny suddenly swings his fist into the wall beside him. The sound of splintering wood and cracking bones reverberates through the apartment, and Leigh stands frozen, shocked beyond belief at what she's witnessing.

Danny looks down at his bloodied knuckles, bewilderment creeping over his features as he pulls back from the wall. He catches his breath and stares at Leigh, their eyes meeting in horrified silence.

“Sorry… I’m so sorry,” Danny mumbles, cradling his injured hand.

Leigh quickly grabs his keys from the dusty fishbowl on the shelf. He watches her, his gaze confused and desperate. “What are you doing?”

She meets his eyes, surprised herself at how calm and collected she feels. “I’m taking you to the hospital. You need to get that hand looked at,” she replies.

He doesn’t protest, only nods numbly and follows her outside.

At the hospital, Danny sits in a stiff plastic chair, his freshly bandaged hand resting on his lap. Leigh is next to him, her eyes fixed on the speckled tile floor, avoiding his gaze.

After several minutes, Danny breaks the silence. “I didn’t know what happened back there,” he starts, his voice low and unsteady. “I didn’t want to be angry, but it just… it had to go somewhere. I’ve never hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to explain. 

Leigh turns to look at him, her expression blank. “You punched a wall, Danny. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never hit anyone; you’ve got some serious anger management issues.”

Danny stays quiet for a moment, staring at his bandaged hand as if he’s still trying to comprehend what he did. He finally looks up, his expression twisted in frustration. “I’ve been angry for a long time, Leigh. Long before Matt was gone. I can’t even remember a time when I wasn’t.”

“I understand that,” Leigh says, shifting in her seat. “Even with therapy, the anger and resentment don’t really disappear completely. They linger like shadows.” She exhales, glancing down at her lap. Before she can stop it, a small smile plays on her lips as she thinks of you. “But lately, when Y/N is around, I forget about it. So know that I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

Danny studies her for a moment before asking, “Did you ever love me? Did I ever stand a chance?”

There's no easy way to say this without hurting him, but she doesn’t want to leave him with false hope. “I tried, Danny. I wanted to,” she whispers.

Danny turns away, his body twisting from her. Leigh wants to feel worse than she does, but instead, she just wants this to be over. She hopes the billing clerk will soon call their name so they can pay and head home. It's been an unbearably long day.

As she waits, her thoughts drift to you. She wants to call you after this, to tell you that she wants to try with you, that it could be real. She wants to explain that she ended things with Danny, that she did it to be free to explore the possibility of being with you, without any reservations.

After a while, Danny lets out a slow sigh, then looks at Leigh with a despondent look. “If your mind’s made up, I should probably put everything out in the open too.”

Leigh looks at him expectantly, a little curious.

“I’ve been keeping something from you. I didn’t think it would matter, but now… well, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“Just say it, Danny,” Leigh says, crossing her arms.

Then Danny proceeds to tell her the one last secret he thought he'd carry to his grave.

[wcbblife]

Cuddling with Paige HCs

a/n: Guys I think Paige is an absolute sucker for cuddling and physical touch so here's some HCs!

I think Paige is touchy from the get go with you once you two start dating. However it's something light in the early stages of the relationship. Once you two hit a few months it just amps up completely.

You'd start to notice it because she literally had to have at least one cuddle session every day or else she would get super pissy about it.

"Babe, what's wrong."

Paige spares you a side look, clearly a little annoyed.

"Nothing."

"Don't tell me you're mad."

"No..." She rolls her eyes.

"Just...come here."

She flies over to where you are, instantly melting into your arms. She's never been good at keeping up the act.

She loves to cuddle in the mornings after games or just mornings in general. Especially with the grogginess that settles between you too. She looks around for you and just buries her head into your chest, inhaling your perfume and falls right back to sleep. She just loves the feeling of slipping in and out of sleep with you in her arms.

She lays her head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It calms her down when her mind is having trouble staying silent. She'll fall asleep listening to it.

She sometimes literally digs her fingers and hands into your clothes and skin. It seems to never enough for Paige.

Weirdly enough, I think Paige likes to trace your beauty/birth marks. And sometimes even kiss or trace a healed injury scar.

Whenever you try to get up or move she'll literally throw her arms and legs over you to stop you from getting up. And ofc you can never get up without a fight because of her strength.

"Noooo." Paige whines, immediately holding you down.

"Dude, I literally have to pee." You try and twist from her limbs but Paige is just way too strong.

"But I was just getting comfortable."

"Paige I'm serious. Let me go."

"Nooooo just stay here."

Literally puts her whole body weight on you sometimes. And since she's taller, her body completely engulfs your own.

"Paige, you're suffocating me."

"Hm."

"I'm literally going to die."

Grazes her nose all over your skin to tease you or just to smell your perfume. Especially if her nose is cold bc ofc she would.

Panics full time when she wakes up in the mornings and doesn't see you at all. The only way to make it up to her is with some cuddles.

"I'm sorry baby. Didn't mean to scare you."

Paige sits in the middle of the bed with the biggest pout.

"You're gonna act all pissy about it? Then I won't-"

"Wait no. Just come here."

Definitely likes to get under your hoodie while you're wearing it. Likes the feeling of it and it just muffles every outside sound. You guys do tt like this.

Likes to rub your lower back or vice versa.

Loves to sleep in a cold room and just put her hands under your clothes to feel your warmth. She sleeps like a baby when she's warm with you.

[kvrokasaa]

omg i was js thinking abt timeskip kaiser, a renowed pro football player, attending some celebrity event and seeing his mother there SKDJEK 🫨 can you plspls make it a short angsty(?) story w a happy ending pls our boy deserves it :(

take care <3

I tried to make it as angsty as I could, but I probably just made a comfort fic, I'm sorry!

Cw: mention of food, mentions of mother's leaving, kaiser being sad, crying, comfort, angst(?), happy ending, comforting kaiser helps cope with the recent chapter :(, not proofread, 1.5k words

“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” you whisper over to Kaiser, your voice trailing off to a quiet giggle. A smile reaches his face when he hears your giggle, you never fail to brighten his mood. “Do what, meine liebe?” He questions, the pet name rolls off his tongue with such ease, that you’re sure he practices saying it every day.

“I don’t know how you manage to attend these events and functions all the time. It’s my first time and it’s so tiring already,” you hum, grabbing a strawberry covered in chocolate. “At least there’s good food,” you finish. 

Kaiser snorts quietly. That’s what got you to come in the first place. He almost begged you to come with him, but every time he asked he was met with your quick ‘no.’ So, like the man he is, he went to underhanded tactics. He promised to get you good food, and promised that there’ll be really good food there.

You’re thankful that he didn’t lie.

“It’s about keeping up with appearances, meine liebe.” His arm circles around your waist when he sees some nobody looking at you with obvious intentions. “Do you think if I didn’t blow so much money on these stupid things people would still respect me? No. I have to come to these to show people that I’m richer and better than they will ever be.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes. But would it really be Kaiser if he didn’t say something super egotistical?

He chuckles when he sees how close you are to rolling your eyes. Although most of his words were false, some of them were true. If he didn’t come to these and spend so much money, people would not respect him. The world truly is in his hands.

“Okay you goof, I have to use the restroom,” you pressed your hands against his chest as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. “Make sure to stuff some of that food into my purse when I’m gone.” You joked.

Kaiser followed you with his eyes while you walked to the end of the ridiculously big room for the bathroom. His eyes show everything, especially his love and adoration for you. He laughs a little as he turns his attention back to the speaker. 

But something catches his eye. A slightly tall woman, with blond hair but almost gray now, no. That’s not what makes Kaiser freeze in his spot, that’s not what makes his heart beat ten times faster. It’s the unmistakable red eyeliner. 

Anyone could apply red eyeliner, he tries to reason with himself. Kaiser tries his best to divert his attention back to the speaker, but his eyes cannot seem to leave the woman. His gaze must have alerted the woman because the next second she is looking around for the person.

And when her eyes fall on him, he immediately panics. No way in hell. She can not be here. He must be hallucinating or something. He needs air, fresh air. Why can’t he breathe? 

Kaiser leaves the mansion as quickly as possible, trying to get away from the stuffy crowd. But just his luck, she follows him out. 

“My son, I have been looking for you.”

You leave the bathroom, with your disgust intensified. Why are rich people so weird? Couldn’t that couple have gone home? Who in their right mind would be doing that during a fundraiser? 

A sigh escapes your lips as you make your way to the crowd, ready to tell Kaiser what you just witnessed. 

But when you get back to the table of food, he’s gone. You swear that he wouldn’t just leave you, and he would’ve texted you if he moved somewhere else. Maybe he had gone to the restroom too?

After searching for a little, you end up spotting his blonde and blue hair. But you see a person standing if front of him and he isn’t moving at all. Your brows furrow in a quizzical manner, who is that?

“No.” You hear him say, it was more of a demand than anything. “You’re lying.” The woman in front of him shakes her head, a soft expression on her face. “You may think that, but we both know it’s not true.” She opens her arms, her hands awaiting his shoulders as to pull him into her embrace. 

“It’s me, your mother.” Your eyes widen, why is she here? Why did she decide to come back now of all times?

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” your tone is soft while you look at Michael, a worried expression on your face. “But Michael and I should really be going.” “Who are you?” Her soft expression never falls, almost like she got it implanted onto her face. But you can see the truth, the deception, the root of her lies. She’s only here for the spotlight. She wants to be seen as his mother, as his savior. But you know that she will only ruin him. She will only make him fall deeper into the black hole.

“Oh, I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news,” you start. You look at Michael’s mother, your soft expression immediately faltering. “I’m Michael’s fiancee. It’s very nice to meet you.” You give her a fake soft smile. You don’t want to seem too rude, but you know kindness with a person like this will only lead to your ruin.

“Ah, I thought you were his chafure. You seem awfully-” “Stop.” She turns her attention back to Michael, her faux softness resurfacing. “My dear, you seem tired. Why don’t we-” “No.” He can’t get his head around this whole situation. Why has she come back? Why did she choose now to come back? Does she want money, is that it? Maybe she just wants to be seen with him. Maybe she needs her acting career back and the only way she can get noticed is with Michael.

But he doesn’t want any of that. He tried so hard to look for her, and now she shows up out of nowhere. 

Michael feels like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. 

His mom tries to reach out again, but Michael is too preoccupied to notice. So, you step in, your body in the middle of both of them. Your glare is icy, never relenting when you see his mother’s expression falter. She seems to be caught up in her own little world. Does she not know the damage she created? How dare she walk back into his life like he owes her everything.

No, she owes him everything.

“I don’t know you, but I know of you. I know what kind of person you are and it’s fucking disgusting.” Your tone is sharp as if laced with venom, and it cuts right through her little facade. You can see the second her fake kindness leaves, and you’re left with the disgust and hatred that Kaiser should have. 

“You are not allowed to walk back into Michael’s life when it’s convenient for you. You don’t get to do that. That’s not fair to him at all. 

Do you know how many times he’s tried to find you? You don’t, do you? He’s tried almost his entire life to find you, to find some sort of comfort in his mother. But you left him. You left a child all by himself with someone neither of you could’ve trusted. 

Do you know the first thing he said to me when I first hugged him? He thanked me. He thanked me for being there, for letting him breathe. He has constant thoughts that I’m going to leave him because of your mistakes.

And if you’re a good mother, if you truly missed him, you would’ve reached out in the past and apologized for everything. But you didn’t.

So no. I’m sorry, but not. You do not get to walk back into Michael’s life right now. He can reach out if and when he truly wants to. Please leave.”

Michael’s mother juts her chin up, a little huff leaving her mouth before she walks away. You truly thought that you wedged a block between Kaiser and his mother. You’re scared that if you turn around, you’ll see the hurt and betrayal across his face.

But that’s not it in the slightest. Kaiser is so proud to be called yours at this moment. He’s so very grateful to you. He has never had someone stick up for him in this way before.

Yes, he always acts as if nothing can bother him, even if he shows it on his face a little. But at this moment, he realizes that he wants to be held by you, he wants you to nurture him and to care for him. He wants to turn to you for things he has never received in his life.

Before he knows it, tears gather in his eyes, threatening to spill along his cheeks. His body moves on its own as he makes his way to you.

“Thank you,” his arms looped around your waist, his hold tightening ever so slightly. You thank the Lord that everyone has left or else everyone would see Kaiser crying and you know that he hates showing that to the world. 

You let those thoughts leave your mind, your smile growing back onto your face. “No need to thank me, my love. I meant every word and I will protect you until you’re ready to see her again.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

First! Congrats on 3k!!!!!

For the ask game “If you asked me to, I’d give you the moon.”

Love your stuff!!

Thank you my dear! It's been a wild ride so far! Hope you like what I threw together for ya!

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

Eddie watched. He observed. That's how he kept himself safe for years, kept himself from getting into physical altercations throughout middle and high school. That's how he managed to survive the city streets between gay bars, alone, trying to find a place he belonged. That's how he found himself in this group of young adults and children, friendship- family- forged from fire and blood.

That's how he recognized what Steve was doing.

He was always in the middle of things, but never the center of attention. Always put himself right on the cusp of being involved, but hung back enough to go unnoticed. He protected, but he stepped away the moment his safety was no longer needed.

He didn't think anyone else seemed to notice.

Steve was just there.

Present and accounted for, but not an active participant in anything.

Like today, this pool party, celebrating Max finally being done with her physical therapy and El finally being able to come out of hiding officially. It was Steve's house, Steve's pool, Steve's food, but Steve wasn't in the pool, or eating the food. He stood by the sliding door to the kitchen, watching with a fond smile.

Eddie walked over to him, poking his shoulder playfully. "You comin' in? I put on this bathing suit for you, least you could do is swim with me."

Steve tried to hide the red flush taking over his cheeks and neck, bowing his head and avoiding eye contact.

"Don't think I'm up for it today, sorry," he said quietly.

The kids yelling, the music blaring, and Robin and Nancy arguing over who had to blow up the float bounced around the large outdoor patio.

"You didn't feel up to it last month either," Eddie tried to get Steve to talk, to be involved in the conversation. "You wanna talk about it?"

Steve shook his head.

"Is it Upside Down related?" Eddie pushed.

Steve nodded once, looking away from everything.

Eddie didn't need to know more, not now or ever if Steve didn't feel like sharing, but he wanted Steve to know he could share.

"If you ever wanna face your fears, you could trust me."

Steve's head shot back towards him. "What do you mean?"

"If you wanted to talk about it. Or if you wanted to try getting in the pool sometime. I can be moral support either way," Eddie laced his fingers with Steve's, ignoring the pull in his stomach that was telling him to either let go or lean in further to kiss him.

"You'd-" Steve flexed his hand, squeezing Eddie's in his. "You would do that? For me?"

"Stevie, if you asked me to, I'd give you the moon," Eddie huffed a small laugh. "Moral support for what's clearly been pretty traumatic for you is kinda the bare minimum."

Eddie was met with silence, but he didn't feel nervous.

He was observant. He knew how Steve felt, even if Steve didn't realize it quite yet himself.

Okay, and maybe Robin had nudged him to make a move, saying there was no way Steve would react poorly. He trusted Robin to know what she was talking about when it came to Steve.

"The kids aren't staying tonight, just the adults. If you wanted to...I dunno. Maybe I could stick my feet in later if you wanted to smoke a bit out here with me?" Steve finally replied.

"Anything, Stevie." Eddie squeezed his hand. "I mean it."

[somehow-a-human]

The angels don't have to ask to enter the bookshop.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

We've been operating under the assumption that BOTH the angels and demons have to ask to enter the bookshop, but I don't think that's true. I'm pretty sure it's one of our red herrings for season 2.

Continued under the cut.

When Gabriel shows up to the bookshop nude and oblivious, the doors are closed and (i believe) locked, Gabriel doesn't even know who or where he is, so he does what the default is... he knocks, and asks "Can I come in?" Aziraphale is frightened at first and tells him he can't come in but eventually our angels empathy wins and he says "Alright! Just... just get in!"

>> We're never told Gabriel wouldn't have been able to come in otherwise.

When the Archangels show up Aziraphale literally cuts them off before they reach the door of the bookshop. Saraqael suggests, "Shall we discuss this inside?", and Aziraphale continues, "By all means. Would you like to come in?"

>> If Aziraphale hadn't rushed out to meet the angels, why wouldn't they have just walked into the bookshop like they did numerous times in season 1?

When Muriel arrives to surveil Aziraphale they ask, "Great! Well, could I come in and do it inside please? Only cause it's really noisy out here and I can't hear anything." Aziraphale replies, "By all means."

>> Muriel is a plucky angel who doesn't know much about life on earth but had the shop been open and unlocked they might've just wandered in as well.

We're never told the angels *can't* enter the bookshop explicitly like we are for the demons. We've always just assumed the same rules apply to all of the ethereal and occult beings.

But then, might I ask, why does Aziraphale tell us "Technically, this bookshop still counts as an Embassy"?

If the bookshop is still an embassy, the angels wouldn't need permission to enter, they would still have jurisdiction, and would still be able to monitor what's going on there... yes?

Let's compare this to the demons attempts to enter the bookshop, because Shax states clearly that she can't enter without permission. We see this again when she tries to get into the Bentley after it's canonically 'our car', and therefore at least partially owned by an angel.

I'm pretty sure John and Neil make a point of having the angels all ask in some way to enter, and Aziraphale seem to grant them permission as a red herring. They don't need to, but they want us to assume a false sense of security, to think that the bookshop is a safe space for our duo, outside of the reaches of both Heaven and Hell.

Technicalities are big in season 2 and I definitely think they're a huge underlying string running through all of Good Omens. In season 1, Crowley and Aziraphale stop Heaven and Hell from trying to restart Armageddon on a technicality. Gabriel and Beelzebub don't technically know if the great plan *is* the ineffable plan! It's definitely a favorite trope of Terry and Neil's to mock unfair, broken, bureaucratic systems, and Heaven and Hell are a PERFECT example of this.

**Somebody has written a meta on technicalities, I know I've seen it but I cannot for the life of me find it so if anyone could tag me so I could link it that would be brills! (Yeah that's right I'm adopting that from Charles from Dead Boy Detectives, 80's british slang ftw, I'm obsessed; please watch it please I need a second season.)

Neil has mentioned that the plot for season 3 might've had to be changed from he and Terry's original vision a bit, based on the political climate of the current day, and I'm sure that means we'll see some technicalities being the downfall of Heaven and Hells systems in Season 3 as well. I don't think the metatron is a villain, nor any of the other angels or demons. They're just fulfilling their function, following a set of rules, very much to a fault. This is all just God's big experiment after all, freewill, choice, eating the apple, and the angels and demons aren't exempt.

I wouldn't be surprised if there's some sort of technicality about the angels and demons themselves in season 3. We've seen that they're of the same stock, and we know Crowley at least is technically still the same person he was when he was an angel... more or less. Could the book of life end up revealing something like that the demons still exist perpetually as their angelsonas? A technicality, if you will?

Given the bookshop is still technically an embassy, is everything that happens inside observable by Heaven? Can they access the bookshop in their Earth Observation Files? There is some questionable blocking surrounding the bust in Aziraphale's bookshop, coupled with a curious record cover from Maggie's bookshop pointed out by @noneorother

One more thing to add, when Crowley and Aziraphale do the Gabriel hiding miracle, and the first large time discontinuity happens, something that still draws my attention in that moment is Aziraphale's expression after Jim emerges upstairs.

Just after Crowley has suggested the miracle, and just before Jim emerges from upstairs, Aziraphale is looking off toward the bookshop entrance, and after we cut away to Gabriel and then back...

Aziraphale looks momentarily terrified, he knows Gabriel is upstairs, and he's the one who wanted to hide him in the first place why would he be so scared? And he clearly isn't looking at Gabriel. Crowley is looking up at the archangel but Aziraphales eyeline is lower, possibly looking toward a certain... statue???

Anyway... Let me know your thoughts. I haven't been posting as much, I have been mega busy and I'm trying to be thankful for it. Love you all, hope you have something nice happen for you today! <3

[etherealyoungk]

strangers to lovers | moon junhui

seventeen as romantic tropes series ✩ masterlist ✩

PAIRING: junhui x reader

THEMES: strangers to lovers trope, blind date

WARNINGS: fluff

WORDCOUNT: 850

A/N: enjoy <3

you reached the restaurant a bit early and sat down at a table, waiting for your date to arrive. it was your first blind date and you were really nervous about it, but also a little hopeful because he seemed like a nice guy when you had talked and he seemed really eager to meet you. you wore a simple yet pretty outfit and some minimal makeup. you checked the time on my phone and it was almost 5:00pm. he should be here soon. but 15 minutes have passed and he's still not here.

"are you ready to order miss?" the waitress asks.

"no i'm actually waiting for someone", you say and she gives you a small nod and goes on her way. another ten minutes pass and he's still not here. you call and text him but he isn't taking your calls and isn't seeing your texts either.

dread and realisation wash over you as you realise you've been stood up. but some part of you doesn't want to believe it and you keep waiting, hoping that he's just late. the waitress makes her way to your table again and you try your best to keep calm as you tell her the person you're waiting for is running latel but she just gives you a look like she knows.

as you look around, people are glancing at you and giving you apologetic looks and you suddenly feel so embarrassed, looking down at your lap, and fiddling with your fingers. it's been almost 45 minutes and now you really don't think he's going to show up - you've been stoop up. you finally get the courage to get up and leave when a man you've never seen before and is damn well not your date sliding into the seat across from you, flashing you a pretty smile.

"hey babe, i'm so sorry i got late, i had a small setback at work", he says loudly, like he wants everyone to hear. you furrow my brows in confusion.

"'i'm jun, just go with it okay?" he adds quietly, and you don't know why but you went with it. maybe because he was trying to help you from this embarrassing situation.

"finally! i was so hungry", you reply, surpressing the urge to laugh out loud at what you were doing right now.

"oh really? you should have ordered something for yourself then, i'm so sorry for being late", he replied and you couldn't help but chuckle at this exchange, and he chuckled along too.

you both go quiet again, just looking at each other. "whoever didn't bother to show up is an ass", he says, breaking the silence. "so you don't mind if i join you right?" he asks, looking at you intently.

"no, it's fine", you say and we order our food.

"how did you know i was stood up?" you ask, leaning forward.

"oh, you're going to think i'm weird", he rubbing the back of his neck "like this situation isn't weird enough", you prompt, giving him a look.

"i see you in the bus almost every day and i thought of asking for your number so i followed you. but it looked like you were waiting for someone so i just sat on the bench outside. and when i saw no one had come after 20 minutes, combined with the look of dread on your face, it was easy to put it all together", he explains sheepishly.

"oh, was it that obvious?" you asked, feeling embarrassed and shy again. "yeah, but i think i came and saved you just in time didn't i?" he asked, proud. "yes you did, thank you for that", you say smiling.

he's so sweet and so cute not to mention really handsome. you both talk some more over dinner and he insists on paying even though you barely know him and you offer to pay him back.

"thank you again, it was really sweet of you", you tell, grateful and he smiles.

"no problem, i still can't believe that such a pretty person like you got stood up", he said, flattering you.

"you should really give your boyfriend a piece of your mind when you see him, he shouldn't have stood you up like that, he could have at least called and told you", he added as you furrow your brows in slight confusion.

"actually it was a blind date, i don't have a boyfriend", you said and you didn't miss the face light up at this piece of information, suddenly looking hopeful as he tried to hide the smile on his face.

"in that case, you do want to have lunch tomorrow with me?" he asked, and he was definitely nervous by the look on his face. was he asking you out?

"sure", you tell because why not? he seemed like a really sweet and cool guy and he was 100% better the guy who just stood you up.

he grinned when you said yes and you both exchanged numbers and parted ways. tonight was the best non-planned date ever.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @wheeboo @fairyhaos @kikohao @rubywonu @odxrilove @writingmeraki @asilentreader @kwonshiho @belladaises @graybaeismytae @mykpopficblog @seunghancore @emotionalsupportbrat @moodays @avaaahuang @foxinnie8 @wonvsmile

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 03 - Freundschaft]

• Freundschaft (German; noun: friendship)

Focus on Pairing: platonic!Yoongi x Taehyung

Warnings: so many fluffy sweet moments, they finally fucking talk it out, they're actually best friends i'm sorry i don't make the rules, no but seriously they both needed this moment, this is also very emotional actually, i'm sobbing i love them SO MUCH

Wordcount: 9.5k

a/n: *cries* i love them so much holy fuck

Yoongi and your grandparents stay downstairs for another hour before sleepiness starts to take a hold of them as well.

“Oh, I’m tired”, your grandmother says in a yawn.

“Me too”, your grandfather agrees, having to yawn as well.

Yoongi yawns with them, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t even realise how tired they were from using them all day. He never really gets tired eyes in the real world.

“Will you still stay up?”

“I think I wanna finish the chapter, yeah.”

“Alright”, your grandparents stands up.

“Well then, sleep tight my boy.”

“Oh, uhm, sleep tight too, H-Harald”, Yoongi stutters, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Sweet dreams, dear.”

“You too, Agatha.”

They leave holding hands while Yoongi is left gawking at the empty room with a racing heart. They like him. Something inside him finally clicked which made him realise that he is actually liked by them.

Yoongi lowers his head, scrunching his face in giddiness. They like him. He continues reading with his mind going back to the interaction over and over again. It never loses its spark and maybe he plans on telling you about it tomorrow.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi lifts his eyes from the book. He already finished another chapter before being called. Taehyung is in front of him, wearing a jacket. He seems to come from outside as he smells like the night.

“Do you have some time?” he asks shyly.

“For what?”

“To spend it with me.”

Yoongi checks the clock.

“It’s half past eleven.”

“I know, but I wondered if perhaps we could go for a walk in the garden.”

“Did you ask the others?”

“Huh? Aren’t they sleeping already?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Fine”, Yoongi gives up and stands up with a sigh, “you’re not gonna leave me alone either way.”

“Thank you so much. Oh, how happy I am”, Taehyung says and hurries to the coat stand to pick up Yoongi’s jacket, “let me help you.”

“I can put on my own jacket”, Yoongi says and snatches it away, “I’m not gonna act like a lovedrunk idiot with you, just so you know.”

“So you won’t even hold my hand?”

“Don’t make this weird or I’ll leave.”

“Oh, I was merely joking with you”, Taehyung says, nudging his arm, “I am very well aware that you cannot seem to like me, which is very hurtful if I may mention it.”

“It’s nothing personal”, Yoongi says and puts on his shoes. He finishes his look with a headband which he pulls over his ears then goes to open the door, “let’s go. I wanna be done with it.”

Taehyung follows him outside, joining his side. Yoongi inhales deeply and exhales, sticking his hands into the pocket of his jacket to make sure Taehyung can’t hold them.

“Now we’re outside. It’s cold and dark. Is that what you wanted?”

“Please can you at least attempt to meet me with less hatred?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi studies his features, “yeah, I’ll try. Where should we walk? It’s dark”, he mumbles with slight embarrassment in his voice.

“Follow me, I know the way”, Taehyung says and takes off.

Yoongi follows behind him. Fireflies guide their way. Taehyung seems to lead him to the animal shed. There is the faint red shine of the warming lamp in the distance.

“It’s peculiar isn’t it? To think that we lived centuries being able to see in the dark and now we are helpless.”

“Yeah, it’s weird.”

“We became so used to the conveniences.”

“Yeah.”

Lights flicker on just as they pass the lavender beds. Your grandfather installed motion sensor controlled garden lights along the path. They guide their steps, making it a lot easier to see.

“That’s better”, Taehyung says to which Yoongi agrees with a hum.

The two men walk a few steps and then Taehyung talks again.

“How have you accustomed to being human again?”

“It’s alright.”

“Truly?” Taehyung stops to turn and look at Yoongi, “you spent thousands of years wishing to be human and now that you are, you think it is merely alright?”

Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “it’s good”, he confesses, “I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you.”

“You’re so cold to me”, Taehyung says and touches his heart, “it breaks my heart. Oh, why am I still trying to make you like me?”

Yoongi knows that he is joking. He lets a small scoff escape, reaching out to push at Taehyung’s chest gently.

“Walk, you brat”, he says and joins his side.

Taehyung glances at him, feeling happy. Yoongi is like a stray cat. One must be patient and give him space to make him comfortable. Only then will one be rewarded with warm moments.

The two men reach the animal shed.

“Here”, Taehyung says and tugs Yoongi to the right.

“Where are we going? The path’s that way.”

“I know, but I want to go this way.”

The automatic light flicker on. They pass them and disappear in the darkness again. New lights flicker on, showing them the way. At the end of the path a burning fire waits for them. There is a blanket and some pillows next to it.

“Are we going to the bonfire?”

“Yes indeed”, Taehyung says.

“Did you prepare a picnic?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung.

“I told you that I don’t wanna be romanced by you.”

“I am not trying to romance you, hyung. I am trying to bromance you.”

Yoongi scoffs at the silly wordplay, following Taehyung down the path despite his complaints.

“Fine. Any sign of you trying to make a move on me though and I’m gone.”

“I won’t make a move on you”, Taehyung promises and stops by the fire. He points at the blanket, “get comfortable.”

Yoongi follows even when he pretends to sulk. Taehyung takes off his shoes and gets on the blanket as well. Yoongi, who watched him, also takes off his shoes, stretching his feet to the fire afterwards. The warmth is intense, but he likes it. The night is really chilly here. Despite how warm the days are.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing you a drink”, Taehyung answers him, “I also made a few snacks if you get hungry.”

“That’s what you were making behind me? Where I couldn’t look?”

“Indeed.”

“And you didn’t set the whole kitchen on fire?”

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. You should trust me more, hyung. I am a very skilled cook.”

“Yeah sure”, Yoongi laughs.

“You offend me, hyung. I put a lot of effort into tonight”, Taehyung says as he pours red wine into a glass. He hands it to Yoongi, who accepts it. Once Taehyung filled his own glass, the two men clink glasses, avoiding eye contact. At least Yoongi does, Taehyung is very much staring at his face.

“To a lovely night.”

“Yeah.”

They drink the wine.

“And?”

“It’s good. It’d be better to let it breathe for a bit.”

“I agree, but it’s still very delicious. The richness of the grapes truly coats the entire tongue.”

“Mhm yeah.”

“Eat some cheese to it, hyung. I cut it myself”, Taehyung offers, pointing at a prettily done cheese board. He decorated it with flowers from the garden and cut some baguette to go with it.

“Thanks”, Yoongi says and picks up some brie.

“Here. Pair it with baguette and fig. It tastes wonderful this way.”

Yoongi allows Taehyung to prepare the perfect bite, but flinches back when he attempts to feed it to him.

“I’ll do it myself, don’t make it weird”, he mumbles.

“Very well”, Taehyung says, “you are such an anti-romantic.”

“I can be romantic.”

“Of course. How does it taste?”

“Good.”

“Oh how wonderful”, Taehyung giggles happily, “eat as much as you want, hyung. I made it just for this occasion.”

“Mhm.”

The two men share silence for a while. Yoongi doesn’t think the silence in itself is uncomfortable, but the fact that he has to share it with Taehyung. While Taehyung thinks the silence in itself to be uncomfortable as his mind scrambles to come up with topics to talk about. He doesn’t want Yoongi to feel as if coming with him was a waste of time.

“What do you think of the wine, hyung?”

“You asked me that already.”

“Indeed? Oh silly me. I apologise”, Taehyung says and fumbles with his hair. He downs his wine and prepares another glass.

Yoongi watches him from the corners of his eyes. The nervousness is practically wafting off of Taehyung.

“It goes well with the cheese”, Yoongi says.

“Indeed?”

“Yeah. It fits well”, Yoongi praises and finishes his own glass, “can I have another?”

“Yes of course. Drink as much as you want to and eat! Yes, eat just as much!”

“I will, Tae. Thanks.”

There is silence again, but it doesn’t feel that uncomfortable anymore. They drink wine, eat delicious cheese and share the warmth of the fire. Taehyung knows that Yoongi isn’t the person who always needs to talk a lot, so the silence doesn’t feel that heavy anymore. Yoongi seems content, he seems to enjoy the food and wine and he seems to enjoy the fire. Taehyung still wants to talk with him. He hasn’t had a proper conversation with him in ages.

“Did you work on new music lately?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. What genre?”

“Acoustic. Yeah”, Yoongi touches the side of his neck shyly, “I like it lately.”

“Indeed? I believe it fits you, hyung.”

“Why?”

“Because acoustic reminds me of feeling at home. You seem to be at home these days.” 

Yoongi looks away and lowers his head.

“I guess”, he whispers, hiding his hands in his sweater paws before stuffing them between his thighs shyly. 

“Do you have some of your music here? I would love to listen to it.”

Yoongi hesitates at first. 

“Please?”

“Okay”, he gives in and takes out his phone, “I uhm, saved them on my phone. They’re not finished yet, but I think that they’re already really good”, he says and presses play on a song. 

The two men listen to it intently, sipping on wine and snacking on cheese. Yoongi is shy. Even a blind person could see so. He is shy, but not uncomfortable. In his own kind of way he seems even proud of himself. Yes, he really seems content with his own work. 

The song finishes with Yoongi strumming on the guitar. Silence follows. 

“Yeah, that’s it”, he murmurs, flinching in surprise when Taehyung starts clapping. 

“Wow hyung, this was wonderful!” Taehyung exclaims, “I didn’t know that you could sing and oh so well at that.”

“Thanks. I think I sing well”, he agrees.

“You truly do. Your voice is very soothing and fits the genre very well. Do you have any idea on what you will call the song?”

“No, not yet. Maybe something nice.”

“Something nice would fit the melodies very well.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side slightly. Taehyung meets his eyes.

“Do you really think it’s good?”

“Of course I do. I enjoyed it. Honestly.”

“Okay. Thanks”, Yoongi says and looks into his phone.

Taehyung glances at the screen. Yoongi is scrolling up and down on the same spot, almost as if he is waiting for Taehyung to ask him about it.

“Do you have more songs to show?”

“Yeah, I guess”, Yoongi says and presses play on the song. It starts off with the piano, but soon guitar and Yoongi’s gentle rapping joins the melody.

The two men listen to it as they drink and snack and share the warmth of the fire. 

They each finish their drink in the middle of the song and so Taehyung makes it his task to refill their glasses. Yoongi thanks him with a silent nod. The song ends abruptly. 

“I didn’t get to the end yet”, Yoongi says, “sorry, that was shit.” 

“No, it wasn’t. It was wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, truly. I love your music, hyung.”

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out and blushes vividly. Thankfully for him, the wine and the heat of the fire already turned his face red, so a new layer of blush goes unnoticed by Taehyung.

“I was actually wondering whether you could write melodies for me. Unless you have more songs to show”, Taehyung says.

“No, all the others are still rough drafts”, Yoongi says and glances at Taehyung “what do you mean with melodies?”

“Well, you see”, Taehyung begins and takes out his leatherbound notebook from the inside of his jacket, “I have this poem, which has such potential for a song, but I am terrible at composing”, he explains and lies down on his tummy. His feet still face the fire, he is propped up on his elbows.

Yoongi stays in the same position, craning his neck to look. 

“Would you want to take a look?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Yoongi tries to see in the current position at first, but has to give up in the end. He lies down on his tummy as well, mirroring Taehyung’s position.

“It’s dark.”

Taehyung shines his phone flashlight on the pages.

“Does this help?”

“Yeah.”

The two men share silence. Yoongi reads and snacks while Taehyung stares at his face and feels nervous. It’s been centuries since he last showed his friend his poetry. And it has been even longer since he asked him to write melodies for him, maybe he never even did. Centuries make memories blur, so Taehyung can’t remember clearly. He feels nervous beyond recovery. 

Yoongi ends the poem with a quiet hum.

“And? What are your thoughts on it?” 

“It’s romantic.”

“Yes indeed. I thought about my favourite things to do with my loves and slow dancing came to my mind. So I wrote a poem about it.”

“It’s good”, Yoongi says and glances at him, “I have ideas for a song.”

“Truly? Oh hyung, this is wonderful news! I feel beyond delighted.”

“Do you want to make it jazz?”

“Yes! Yes, I would love to make it jazz!”

“Or maybe retro RnB with some jazz elements.” 

“Oh hyung, you are truly a visionary. I love every idea you have. We could make it so that the instruments get a solo part to really make them shine.”

“Yeah, I like that.”

“We have to start working on it once we are back home.”

“Yeah.”

“We will finally be able to have our music nights again”, Taehyung says and caresses Yoongi’s upper arm gently.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi fumbles with the edge of the page. He doesn’t dare to flip it because it would invade Taehyung’s privacy. 

“Do you want to see something else?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Taehyung flips through his notebook until he lands on the drawings he did for your bedroom. 

“It’s not finished yet, but this is my vision for ___’s bedroom. I am thinking flowers and branches reaching from the ceilings. What do you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Yoongi says, tracing the floral sketches with gentle fingertips. 

“If you have any ideas which I could incorporate, please let me know.”

“I don’t know. I’m not good at painting. Or art.”

“Oh, that is a lie. You are talented.”

“Not like you. I can’t paint like you”, Yoongi says and shakes his head. 

“Yes, but you have your own style. Wonderful and beautiful because it’s yours.”

Yoongi glances at Taehyung. The latter smiles at him, flustering Yoongi to the point where he has to hide away. He lies down on the blanket, resting his head on his own arm. Like this, he is looking up at Taehyung.

“I can’t paint, stop fucking around”, he hisses, but Taehyung merely chuckles and reaches down to caress Yoongi’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Very well, you stubborn bastard”, he says and flips his hand so his fingertips were dancing along Yoongi’s temple. He ends the touch with a slow trace of Yoongi’s brow, retreating it afterwards to instead flip through his notebook.

Yoongi allowed it to happen with silence surrounding him and his eyes never once leaving his face. He keeps staring at him even after the touch stopped.

“I have another poem. Do you want to hear it?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s in our mother tongue. Ever since I am with Jungkook, I find myself thinking in this language more often. In a sense, this poem is dedicated to him.”

“Read it to me.”

And so it happens that Taehyung reads his poetry to Yoongi, while Yoongi looks at him and enjoys the warmth on his toes. He listens to Taehyung’s words intently and wonders if the young vampire has always been so dreamy with his words. And then he wonders if he has always been so gentle and why he felt the need to touch his face in such ways.

Taehyung ends the poem with a shivering voice. 

“Oh dear”, he lets out and wipes at his eyes, glancing at Yoongi, “I am tearing up.”

“It’s okay”, Yoongi speaks softly.

“I always tell myself that I won’t become too emotional, but I truly can’t help myself. I am in love with him. Just thinking about him makes me want to cry. Oh dear, this isn’t like me at all”, he says and laughs softly, drying his eyes as best as possible.

“It’s okay”, Yoongi assures him and reaches up to wipe the tears from Taehyung’s cheek.

The latter falters for breath, gawking at him with widened eyes. The touch surprised him so greatly that he forgets to cry. 

Yoongi ends the touch with a gentle nudge to Taehyung’s chin, afterwards he retreats his hand and hides it under his head.

Taehyung doesn’t dare to speak. He is left staring at Yoongi and feeling short of breath. His heart is threatening to give up in his chest, his thoughts are messy but one thought is clearer than all else. Is this truly his friend? Such tenderness, Taehyung never experienced from him before.

“The poem is nice. I could write melodies for it”, Yoongi breaks the silence.

“You”, Taehyung has to clear his throat, “hyung, this would make me incredibly happy. Oh, hyung thank you.”

“Mhm, yeah. You could perform it for Kook once it’s finished. He will love it a lot.” 

“I truly hope that he will. Oh, I want to make this man so happy. Sometimes I fear that I am too much, that I will scare him away one day because I overwhelmed him with too much love.”

“There’s no such thing as too much love, Tae, there’s just a thing as the wrong receiver.”

“The wrong receiver?”

“Don’t lessen your love, Tae. A cactus dies in too much water, while a water lily thrives. There is no such thing as too much, there are just wrong receivers. Jungkook’s the right one, trust me.”

“Hyung, thank you I…” Taehyung exhales shakily, “oh, I have so much love to give to him. If I could, I would steal the stars just to give them to him. You have no idea, hyung.”

“No, I do”, Yoongi whispers and smiles softly, “he’ll cry so much when he hears the song.”

Taehyung chuckles and drops down, nuzzling his face into his own arm as he beams at Yoongi.

“He will. Oh, he is such a gentle soul.” 

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees with a chuckle, “I hope he never changes.”

“Yes, yes I agree. He’s perfect the way he is”, Taehyung says with love drunk eyes, “I plan to take him on a summer holiday soon. Perhaps Greece. It is so terribly romantic there.”

Yoongi studies Taehyung’s features intently enough that Taehyung feels shy.

“What is it, hyung?” he whispers.

“I haven’t seen you so in love before.”

“That’s not true. I love ___ just as deeply.”

“You weren’t like this with her. You were a cunt and a show-off.” 

Taehyung chuckles, “I guess you are right. Oh, I regret a lot in my life. I try to make it right, but sometimes I am scared that I won’t ever be able to fix it.”

“Don’t try so hard.”

“But if I won’t, then it won’t ever be enough.”

“You’re already enough, Tae.”

Taehyung flusters, looking away.

He touches his own hair, scrambling for words.

“Hyung I…” he begins, “hyung, I feel wrong at times.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel as if I am trying to force myself into a situation I have no right to be in”, he says and looks into Yoongi’s eyes, “when Jimin was dead, I did so much wrong and, and afterwards as well. And although I shouldn’t feel this way, I feel as if I was never meant to be part of this family again. Sometimes I am scared that all of you merely pretend to be alright with me being here.”

Yoongi furrows his brows.

“I know. How silly of me to think this way. How utterly and stupidly self-obsessed. The world doesn’t revolve around me and yet here I am, feeling sorry for myself.”

“It’s not self-obsessed, Tae. You have worries and still feel guilty for your past. I understand those feelings all too well, but you shouldn’t feel this way. You acted like shit in the past, yeah, but you’re not that person anymore.”

“Do you truly think this way?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think that you would.”

“Why?”

“Because you are always so mean to me.”

Yoongi falters. Taehyung shies away, lowering his eyes.

“It hurts me so much when you’re always so terrible to me, hyung”, Taehyung confesses in a whisper.

Yoongi stays silent.

“I apologise”, Taehyung whispers, “it, it’s alright. I understand why you are this way. I shouldn’t ask you to change for me.”

“No, you should”, Yoongi interrupts him.

Taehyung lifts his eyes, holding his breath.

“I think I’ve been unfair to you”, Yoongi confesses.

“What?” Taehyung gasps.

“It’s hard for me to accept that you’re not the reckless, snobby brat from the past anymore. That’s all I’ve known you as for centuries, but I have to give you a chance to prove yourself as someone different. You’re allowed to better yourself. I’m sorry for acting like a cunt, Tae.”

“Do you mean that?” Taehyung presses out.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Hyung”, Taehyung tears up, “oh hyung”, he whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Hey, don’t cry kiddo”, Yoongi whispers, cupping Taehyung’s cheek to wipe the tears from his lashes.

“Oh hyung, I’m so happy”, Taehyung presses out and flings himself around Yoongi’s neck. He traps him in a tight hug, his arms are slung around him and his legs closed tightly around Yoongi’s waist.

“Yah! Stop that”, Yoongi complains, finding himself smothered in Taehyung’s chest as the latter rolls around the blanket with him. Yoongi ends up chuckling, “you’re so stupid, Tae. Let me go.”

“Oh hyung, we will be such good friends”, Taehyung giggles and nuzzles into Yoongi’s face just to kiss his cheek.

“Tae stop”, Yoongi laughs, pushing his face away gently, “you’re weirding me out.”

Taehyung pulls back, releasing Yoongi from his tight hug. The latter wiggles away instantly, nudging Taehyung’s cheek.

“You’re a brat. I regret everything I said”, he says, making Taehyung laugh. Yoongi smiles, giving Taehyung’s chin one last gentle nudge. Then he rolls to his back and sits up, taking his glass of wine to drink it as his eyes stare into the orange flames.

Taehyung sits up as well, studying Yoongi’s features.

“I feel happy, hyung.”

Yoongi nods his head, “me too.”

“I mean it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We will be such good friends.”

“I see”, Yoongi says and nods his head, “yeah”, he glances at Taehyung, “I don’t want you trying to romance me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I won’t try. All I wanted for years was to be your friend, hyung. This is everything I wanted.”

“Mhm, good.”

“I will however cuddle with you and give you kisses.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose up and clicks his tongue, “if you have to”, he murmurs.

“I do”, Taehyung says and scoots closer to hug Yoongi’s waist and rest his chin on his shoulder, “you will be so fed up with me by the end of it.”

“It’s gonna happen sooner than later. I hate PDA.”

“No, you don’t. You give ___ PDA all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s my love, yeah.”

“That’s good, hyung. The two of you are meant for each other”, Taehyung says and sits up. He wiggles his toes and drinks his wine. Then he lets out a loud sigh, tilting his head up to stare into the sky. Millions of stars look down at them, “this world is truly fascinating.”

Yoongi inhales and lifts his head. He exhales, “yeah, Namjoon did nice stuff as well.”

“It feels impossible for me to imagine. He traumatised me incredibly.”

“I know Tae. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi lets out and lies down. He starts counting the stars but soon gives up, “do you think that every witch that ever lived is here?”

“Mhm, yes I think so.”

“Mhm.”

Taehyung snacks on some grapes and enjoys a sip of his wine. He really likes the taste of it. It’s already warmed up from the fire, but he doesn’t mind. It still tastes sweet, tasting even sweeter because he is finally Yoongi’s friend. Taehyung loves being Yoongi’s friend.

“Do you think that witches return to be witches once they’re dead?”

“I don’t seem to understand this question, hyung.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Taehyung turns, studying Yoongi’s features. The latter, who looked at the sky at first, shifts his attention to Taehyung. He seems flustered.

“Talk to me, hyung. There is something weighing on your heart, isn’t there?”

“No, there’s not.”

“You don’t have to lie to me”, Taehyung says and lies down on his tummy. The two men can see eye to eye this way, “you can trust me, hyung.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs.

“I was just wondering. What if a witch became a vampire against their will, would their soul return to being a witch once they’re dead? Would they be able to enter this world or will their soul be too cursed by vampirism to enter?”

“I have to think about this for a moment”, Taehyung confesses.

“It’s okay. It’s fucking stupid either way”, Yoongi murmurs.

“No, it’s not. I will think about it”, Taehyung assures him and rolls to his back.

They share silence. The fire crackles by their feet, the crickets sing their nightly song and the forest is alive in various kinds of rustling and animal calls. They’re both a little chilly. It’s been centuries since they last felt truly cold. They’re also very tipsy from the wine. It’s been just as long since they felt so truly drunk. It’s a vulnerable state they find themselves in. Human and so utterly prone to outside influences that it would be a scary state to be in if they weren’t so safe in each other’s presence.

“I thought of my answer”, Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Tell me”, Yoongi whispers and so Taehyung speaks quietly as well.

“I think that a witch will return to being a witch once they die. You said that they were cursed against their will and I believe that death will lift the curse from their soul.”

“So you think that they can find peace here?”

“Yes I believe so”, Taehyung says with confidence in his voice.

“Good”, Yoongi says and exhales shakily, “yeah, that’s good.”

Taehyung turns his head to Yoongi.

“Why do you ask such a question, hyung?” he asks and widens his eyes, “no hyung!”

“Huh?”

Taehyung sits up, “no! Just no! Why would you think like this? Why?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Taehyung shakes his head vigorously and grabs Yoongi by his shoulders.

“Why do you still think about dying? Why would you kill yourself just to enter this world? Why do you still think this way?” Taehyung presses out with a trembling emotion in his voice.

“What?” Yoongi gasps and sits up, “I wasn’t thinking for myself, you idiot.”

“But…what else were you thinking?”

Yoongi lowers his head and touches the side of his neck.

“My friends”, he whispers.

“Your friends?”

“The other Creators who died. Do you think that they found peace here?”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and touches his own chest, “I feel such relief right now. Oh hyung, you gave me such a fright.”

“I don’t want to die these days”, Yoongi says.

“Good. This is good”, Taehyung says and hugs Yoongi again even if the latter grumbles in distaste, “you just became my friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Okay, okay I got it”, Yoongi laughs, patting his head, “now let go of me.”

“No”, Taehyung murmurs, “I have to hug you, hyung.”

“Fine.”

Taehyung gives him a little squeeze.

“I think that your friends are in this world”, he says into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi feels his voice against his skin this way.

“You do?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and relaxes, “maybe I’ll find them one day. How endless do you think this world is?”

“I can’t tell. I know even less about magic than you.”

“I never understood this world. This was always Namjoon’s expertise. I keep wondering how far away my friends are or how similar to the real world it is. What about time differences? My friends died thousands of years ago. They don’t know automatic lights or modern sanitary systems. Does their world look different than that of ___’s grandparents? Does every witch’s world look different depending on when they died? Isn’t it incredibly lonely like this?”

“I don’t think that I have answers to these questions, but I do believe that this world isn’t lonely.”

“You do?”

“Yes. The real world is lonely enough and I believe that the loneliness stops here. This isn’t a world of punishment, but of peace”, Taehyung says and sits up to look at the stars, “if you asked me, witches of every time period live here together. I think that this world evolved as the real world evolved. Your friends may have started off this world without electricity or running water, but as time passed and witches from different time periods entered this realm, it evolved with them.”

“Maybe.”

“Or perhaps this is a world of many different times. Maybe your friends still live how you lived three thousand years ago while ___’s grandparents live in their time period. Perhaps we can traverse time here and visit each other’s time.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Whatever it may be, I believe that your friends are at peace.”

“I wonder if they would recognise me if I ever meet them again.”

“I believe that they would”, Taehyung says and glances at Yoongi, “perhaps we could look for them.”

Yoongi lowers his head, “I was wondering the same.”

“You were?”

Yoongi nods his head.

“Oh hyung, then we ought to do so”, Taehyung says, taking Yoongi’s hand.

“I don’t know if I want this.”

“But you said so yourself that you were thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it and actually doing it are two very different things.”

“And what would be so bad about actually doing it? How else will you make new memories? How else will you find out if they’re at peace?”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung. The latter meets his eyes.

“Thinking about it can’t hurt me”, Yoongi whispers.

“I see. Oh hyung, you live in your thoughts too much. What would have happened if you over thought ___ as well?”

“That never would have happened because she gave me no chance to even think about it. She just made me fall in love with her”, Yoongi says and makes Taehyung laugh with it.

“Yes indeed, she is so incredibly stubborn once she wants something.”

“Yeah, I hope she never changes.”

“Yes indeed. She is perfect the way she is”, Taehyung agrees and smiles with Yoongi. He squeezes his hand, “but you see? Because you had no time to over think it into ruin, you can now live in happiness. You told me that you don’t want to die these days hyung, and it is all because you didn’t overthink.”

Yoongi looks away, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“So I think that we should attempt to look for your friends. It will make you happy.”

“I guess”, Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “not this time. We’ll visit this world a lot more. I’m not ready yet.”

“I understand. Then we’ll do it next time”, Taehyung says, caressing Yoongi’s knuckles, “I love it here, so I hope to visit it many more times.”

“Mhm yeah”, Yoongi agrees, “how do you like being human?”

“Oh, it’s exhausting”, Taehyung laughs, “it has only been two days and I already have enough of it.”

“Really?” Yoongi chuckles, “why? I think it’s nice.”

“Why is it nice? I have to eat and drink and constantly relieve myself, I get tired so easily, every little ache stays and I have been freezing my buttocks off for the past ten minutes.”

Yoongi laughs, “I like it.”

“Of course you do.”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung touches his own chest, “but I must admit that it is truly wonderful to feel my heartbeat again and that my warmth is honest. And I guess it is also wonderful to feel touch on my skin”, he says and lifts Yoongi’s hand into their vision. He runs his thumb over his skin, meeting Yoongi’s soft gaze afterwards.

“Yeah”, he whispers, “it’s nice to experience this. Hugs are the best because you can feel the other’s heartbeat. Yeah and kisses.”

“Oh, you romantic”, Taehyung says with fondness in his voice, “I haven’t kissed properly yet.”

“I’m not the one you will experience this with.”

Taehyung laughs, “you are truly ice cold, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I told you. I don’t wanna romance you.”

“Yet.”

“Ever.”

“Of course, this is what you say now.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, smiling fondly, “you’re a brat.”

He lifts his glass to his lips and finishes the wine.

“Do you want more?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, the bottle is empty.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums, “I guess that means we gotta go inside.”

“Why? The night has only become comfortable.”

“Didn’t you say that you were freezing your ass off?”

“Yes, but I want to spend more time with you.”

Yoongi scoffs fondly, “we can spend time inside as well. It’d be less freezing.”

“Very well, but only if you promise me that we will truly continue this inside.”

“Yeah, we’ll continue this.”

“I take your words for it, hyung”, Taehyung says and gets up, “should we extinguish the fire?”

“Yeah, it’s safest. We don’t want to start a forest fire.”

“Do you believe that fires are possible here?”

“Let’s not find out the hard way. Can you get the hose from the shed?”

“Of course.”

While Taehyung hurries to the shed in the darkness and begins unravelling the hose, Yoongi makes it his task of cleaning up the picnic. He makes sure the glasses are as dry as possible and the plates are relatively clean before storing all of it in the small basket. He shakes off possible crumbs from the blanket and then folds it neatly. Taehyung returns while Yoongi is busy folding. He aims the hose at the fire, squinting his eyes as the fire dies down in puffs of smoke and protesting sizzles.

“We were lucky with the smoke”, Yoongi says.

“Yes truly, oh it’s taking its revenge now”, Taehyung says and coughs, “my eyes burn terribly.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi agrees, wafting the smoke away with closed eyes.

The fire is extinguished soon after and the two men can make their way back to the cottage. Taehyung stores the hose back on its spot as they pass the shed while Yoongi carries the picnic stuff.

“I can carry something as well”, Taehyung offers.

“It’s okay. I got it”, Yoongi assures him.

They walk side by side on their way back, carrying a certain light-hearted skip in their steps. It wasn’t there when they started this evening, but now it doesn’t seem to want to leave.

“You can leave the blanket outside in case of critters.”

They slip off their shoes and coats and while Taehyung is still busy with fixing his hair, Yoongi is carrying the basket to the kitchen. He starts unloading it, glancing over his shoulder when he feels Taehyung’s presence behind him.

“We should clean. It’s mannerly”, Yoongi says.

“Of course. I shall wash the dishes and you can dry them”, Taehyung says.

“Okay.”

Yoongi rolls up his sleeves and begins storing the leftover food in small containers, while Taehyung is busy filling the sink with warm water. They try to be as quiet as possible in fear of waking anyone.

“Oh heavens, I am a fool.”

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, looking over his shoulder.

“I forgot to roll up my sleeves and wet my hands already. May I get help?”

Yoongi closes the fridge and hurries to Taehyung’s side. He rolls up his sleeves, first the left and then the right. Taehyung looks at Yoongi’s face while the other looks at Taehyung’s sweater.

“That colour’s nice”, he says.

“Thank you. I think that earth tones really fit me”, Taehyung says.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“I made the sweater myself. I still know the pattern, so if you want to have your own I could knit it for you.”

“It’s okay, you don’t gotta work for me.”

“But I want to.”

Their eyes meet.

“You would look very handsome in earthen tones, hyung.”

Yoongi flusters, looking away.

“I’m done”, he says and steps back, “that should hold.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

“Mhm.”

Taehyung begins washing the dishes while Yoongi is busy discarding the scraps.

“So should I make you a sweater?” Taehyung asks.

“If you want to”, Yoongi says dryly, but it is clear that Taehyung’s offer means a great deal to him. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of rosy.

“Oh, those are wonderful news. I shall start with it the moment we are home. No actually, I have to do ___’s bedroom first and then we also planned to write my song and I promised Jimin to help with renovations of his ballet studio. Oh, I am too busy.”

Yoongi chuckles. He joins Taehyung’s right side and begins drying the dishes he already finished.

“I shall start with your sweater in October. Early November, at the very latest. I promise.”

“It’s okay, Tae. I can wait”, Yoongi assures him.

“I shall make you many presents now that we are friends, hyung.”

Yoongi smiles, “okay, Tae. I’ll accept them”, he speaks softly, giving him a fond look through the reflection of the kitchen window.

Taehyung meets it and smiles. His heart is light in his chest, his shoulders feel like lifting. He feels at ease. Spending time with Yoongi until this evening was always filled with uncomfortable tension. They accepted each other’s presence for the sake of the polycule, but it was felt by both that it was just that. Acceptance to keep the peace. Taehyung felt nervous in Yoongi’s presence and as if he needed to pretend to be the most proper, guilt-filled person on earth. While Yoongi felt wary in Taehyung’s presence and as if he needed to keep a distance for his own safety.

They don’t feel this way anymore. The once awkward tension was lifted as they talked and acceptance turned into friendship. Of course one nice evening doesn’t mean that all the issues are gone forever, but both men sense that it will be different from now on and they are willing to put in the work to improve their relationship day by day.

It’s a nice feeling to have because it meant that they could both finally feel entirely comfortable whenever their polycule comes together.

“Hey guys.”

Taehyung and Yoongi are almost finished with the dishes when Jungkook enters the kitchen. The two men look at him. He is wearing checkered pyjama pants and no shirt. His hair is ruffled as if hands played with it. His skin is flushed and his neck carries red marks of kisses.

“Hey.”

“Hello handsome.”

“Are you doing dishes?”

“Yes, we had a picnic by the fire pit.”

“The two of you?” Jungkook sounds rightfully surprised.

“Yes. It was a very lovely time.”

“Oh? Really?” Jungkook makes sure, looking between Taehyung and Yoongi. It is obvious that such news are unbelievable to him. He sniffles to make out their scent until he realises that he can’t do such things here.

“Yeah”, Yoongi says, “it was good.”

“Did you guys talk it out?”

Yoongi and Taehyung nod.

“We are friends now”, Taehyung says and hugs Yoongi.

“Okay Tae, back off”, Yoongi complains with a chuckle, which only makes Taehyung hug him tighter.

“You guys, this is the best news ever”, Jungkook gasps as his eyes light up, “wow, I’m so happy”, he confesses and giggles. He steps closer and gives them a little hug, “my two favourite men are friends now. I’m happy, hyungies”, he says and sighs contently, “I gotta tell ___ the news, but first I need to get her water.”

He struts to the cabinet and takes out two glasses. Taehyung and Yoongi, who broke the hug after Yoongi nudged him away gently, watch him.

“Did you make love?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook grins confidently, “I don’t have to tell you.”

“Oh come now, don’t be so secretive”, Taehyung laughs.

“Mhm yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “she’s resting upstairs.”

“Now these are truly wonderful news. I still haven’t gotten to love her here”, Taehyung says and nudges Yoongi, “you, hyung?”

“Why do I gotta tell you?”

“Come now, it is just the three of us.”

Yoongi gives up with a sigh, “congrats Kook, you beat me to it.”

“I’m the first one to do it here?” Jungkook gasps loudly enough that the others shush him.

“Her grandparents”, Yoongi whispers, pointing into the direction of their bedroom.

“I’m the first one to do it here?” Jungkook whispers, “oh my god, I’m such a perv.”

“You are the biggest perv”, Taehyung teases and snickers, “how wonderful was it?”

“It was amazing. Wow, I have butterflies” Jungkook gushes.

“Oh Kookie, this is making me so excited for my night with her.”

They both giggle excitedly.

“You two are idiots”, Yoongi whispers, “stop talking like this. She’s not a price to claim.”

“You joined us as well, hyung.”

“I only did so because you asked. Besides, if nothing happens I’m not gonna be disappointed. You guys are perverts.”

“Very well, I admit that we sounded very perverted. Please forgive us.”

“Mhm.”

“I can tell you that she talked about you guys and how she’s excited for whatever sexy thing you’ll get up to”, Jungkook says, “so she’s being a perv too, but you’re right sorry I talked about her like this.”

“Whatever”, Yoongi murmurs shyly.

Jungkook snickers and fills up the glasses. He takes a sip of his water and sighs contently.

“I’m upstairs then. ___ needs her water”, he says and steps closer to press a kiss to both Taehyung’s and then Yoongi’s lips, “sleep tight, you two”, he says and giggles, “I’m happy that you’re friends.”

And with that he leaves the kitchen with a confident sway in his hips. Taehyung and Yoongi watch him as he hurries upstairs and then distance drowns him out. It’s peculiar to them that they can’t hear how the door opens and closes or how Jungkook talks to you. Human hearing is truly so useless.

“So uhm”, Taehyung begins now that they are alone again, “what shall we do now, hyung? We cleaned everything.”

Yoongi touches the side of his neck, “I’m honestly kinda tired.”

“But hyung”, Taehyung pouts, “you promised me that we will continue the evening inside.”

“I know, but I’m tired. I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

“I’m so sad right now. Oh hyung please”, Taehyung takes Yoongi’s hand, “at least let us stay up for a little bit longer.”

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung retreats his touch, “very well. Don’t clean the shower, I will use it after you.”

Yoongi steps closer and nudges Taehyung’s chin. The younger vampire looks at him with sad, puppy eyes.

“I had fun tonight. Yeah? Just too tired all of a sudden.”

Taehyung nods his head, allowing a small smile to wash over his face, “I had fun as well, hyung.”

Yoongi leaves soon after, but the evening wasn’t over yet. Taehyung decides so the second Yoongi disappeared upstairs. And so he waits, listening as best as his human ears allow him to. Yoongi takes around fifteen minutes in the bathroom and another five minutes taking a nightly pee. Then he can hear the guest bedroom door close.

Taehyung hurries upstairs and locks himself in the bathroom to take the quickest shower he ever took. He needs to be fast in order for Yoongi to still be awake.

Ten minutes after Yoongi got under the covers and comfortable for bed, a knock on the door alerts his attention. The door opens without his answer and in steps Taehyung.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi lowers his pen, studying Taehyung by the edge of the bed. He is wearing his pyjamas and carries his own notebook with a pen.

“What do you want?”

“Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“Why?”

“Because Jungkook and ___ are occupying her bed and I would have no place to sleep.”

“Fine…”

“Wonderful”, Taehyung says and gets on top of the bed, “we can keep each other warm”, he says and pulls the cover open to wiggle himself underneath it.

Yoongi watches him with a certain stiffness in his body. Taehyung sighs and grunts contently, shimmying closer to Yoongi until their arms touch.

“Do you have to do this?” Yoongi asks.

“Indeed, I do”, Taehyung says and sticks his naked feet under the leg of Yoongi’s pants.

“Yah! Put your icicle toes somewhere else”, Yoongi complains loudly, kicking at Taehyung’s feet.

“Warm me up, hyung”, Taehyung coos as he chases him.

“Yah stop it. You’re cold and I’m gonna kick you”, Yoongi warns as he still kicks his feet. He even lies down on his back for it, almost kicking off the blanket as he wiggles his legs. 

Taehyung laughs and retreats his feet, “I apologise. The opportunity was just too easy not to take.”

“You’re such a brat”, Yoongi mumbles, sitting back up. He fixes the blanket on his legs and looks back into his notebook. 

Taehyung snickers, agreeing with a nod of his head. He opens his notebook and clicks his pen. 

“What are you working on, hyung?”

“Nothing. I write down what I think.”

“Like a diary?”

“I guess.”

“That’s very good, hyung. I promise not to peek.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums, looking at him with gratefulness, “you, uh, what are you doing?”

“Oh, I am just continuing work on ___’s bedroom sketches. I want to finish them before we leave this realm.”

“Okay. I want to listen to music. I don’t want to talk when I do.”

“I won’t stop you. I shall listen to my own music as well.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and puts in earbuds. Taehyung slips on headphones and mere seconds later, the two men share one bed but otherwise no words. It is silent and comfortable. Each does their own thing whilst sharing space. Mere hours ago, such an occurrence would have been a lot more awkward. 

They manage to get around an hour in and then Yoongi is the first to give up. He places his phone and earbuds on the bedside table together with his notebook and pen. He fluffs up his pillow next.

“Are you tired already?” Taehyung asks him.

“Mhm.”

“Do you mind if I still draw for a while? I will have to keep the lights on for it.”

“No, it’s okay”, Yoongi assures him and lies down. He wiggles for a bit to get comfortable, “good night”, he says and rolls to his side. Like this, his back is facing Taehyung. 

One must know that this is the first time Yoongi shows himself like this in front of Taehyung. One must dearly remember this fact to perhaps understand why Taehyung can’t stop staring at his friend. 

“Yes indeed. Have a good night, hyung”, he mumbles and turns down the light to make it easier for Yoongi to fall asleep. So this is how his friend looks when he attempts to fall asleep.

“The only reason I’m doing this is because I’m human right now and need sleep.”

“Of course hyung, I wouldn’t have dared to question you”, Taehyung says with a knowing smile on his lips. 

“Good. Good night”, Yoongi says and grows silent.

“Sleep tight, hyung.” 

Taehyung stares for a few moments, thinking to himself that Yoongi looks incredibly cute right now. He is resting in fetus position with his hands between his legs while the blanket covers him all the way to the back of his head. He looks even smaller than he actually is and Taehyung thinks that he is adorable. He stays quiet of course because he is aware that it would push Yoongi away if he tried to compliment him right now. 

Around twenty minutes pass and then Taehyung gets sleepy as well. He discards his phone and notebook and turns off the lights. He gets comfortable in the pillow, staring into the darkness where he assumes Yoongi to sleep. It is so peculiar to not be able to see. 

Taehyung tries to fall asleep, but fails because he has nothing to hug. He can’t find relaxation when he is so empty-handed. 

Taehyung takes a deep breath for courage and reaches out. His fingers touch Yoongi’s back. It’s incredibly warm and tenses at the touch.

“Hyung?”

“What?”Yoongi whispers quietly.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I can’t fall asleep if I do not hug something. May I hug you?”

Yoongi exhales loudly, “if you have to.”

“Thank you, hyung”, Taehyung says and closes in on Yoongi. He drapes his right arm over him, pulling his small body against his chest. His legs lock with Yoongi’s perfectly, sharing warmth his way. Next he wiggles his left arm under Yoongi’s head, keeping it extended so both men are comfortable.

Yoongi is too sleepy to protest, letting it happen even if his brain is going crazy in panic. He never planned on being Taehyung’s little spoon and yet here they were.

“You are so comfortable, hyung”, Taehyung whispers, nuzzling his nose deep into the hair at the back of Yoongi’s head. He inhales deeply and hums.

“You’re so weird”, Yoongi murmurs, trying not to relax too much in case it comes off as needy. He’s not needy for Taehyung’s hugs. Not in a fucking million.

Taehyung ignores him for the sake of nuzzling and snuggling closer.

“What do you like best, hyung? Head pats, chest rubs or stomach rubs?”

“I’m allowing you to hug me, nothing more. Are we clear?”

“But hyung, I want to make you feel very cozy.”

“I appreciate it. Stay still. It’s cozy enough.”

Taehyung huffs out air, “very well.”

Yoongi tries to relax. He doesn’t feel sleepy when he is so tense and that means he has to relax. If he wanted to or not.

“I love back scratches most”, Taehyung breaks the silence in a soft spoken voice.

“Okay.”

“Yes, indeed. But if I am the small spoon, I love it most to have my chest rubbed. It is very relaxing to me.”

“Okay, Tae. I’m sure Kook and ___ will be very willing to give them to you.”

“Hyung”, Taehyung complains and pinches Yoongi’s side gently, “I am not attempting to romance you. Friends can give touches to each other as well.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not fucking comfortable with having my torso touched, okay?”

“Truly?” Taehyung props himself up on his elbow. It results in Yoongi’s head rolling closer to his chest naturally. He doesn’t fix it, “so why have I seen ___ rub your stomach before? And Kook caress your chest?”

“Because…” Yoongi rolls his head away, “I don’t gotta tell you.”

“Do you need time to grow comfortable around people’s touches?”

“Yes. You’ve known me for how long? You know that I do.”

“Do I make you genuinely uncomfortable right now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want my torso to be touched by you yet.”

“I understand. I apologise for asking so many questions. I want to get to know you better.”

Yoongi hesitates. Taehyung listens to the deep inhale he does and how much deeper he seems to exhale. His back presses against his chest as he breathed.

“Just go to sleep, Tae.”

Taehyung drops back into the pillow and pulls Yoongi closer. The older man needs a moment to relax, but as those moments turn into two, three and four he finally grows soft in Taehyung’s hold. Taehyung wonders how much time passed between these moments, but it must have been a while because Yoongi’s breathing slowed down by now. But Taehyung still isn’t tired. His thoughts are racing, as is his heart.

“Yoongi?” he tries quietly.

Yoongi sighs, “what?”

“I can’t fall asleep.”

“Yeah? I can.”

“I keep thinking and it is keeping me awake.”

Yoongi sighs again, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“Why did you hate me for so long?”

Yoongi shifts, “this is what you’re thinking about?”

“Yes. I apologise, but I can’t stop.”

“I didn’t hate you. At least not since some time.”

“So why did you act so annoyed by me all the time?”

“I don’t know. I guess”, Yoongi stays silent for a while as he thinks, “it’s hard for me to let you in because whenever I did, you disappointed me.”

“I see.”

“And I’m still scared that you’re gonna hurt ___ and Kook one day. That I’m gonna let you in and trust you and then you suddenly have a change of heart and decide to become a reckless cunt again and hurt them in the process.”

“I see.”

“That’s why it’s hard for me to shed my feelings off. I want to believe so hard that you are better”, Yoongi says and touches Taehyung’s hand.

The latter has to gasp for air at the touch, feeling as if time slows down. It stands still completely when seconds later, Yoongi begins fumbling with his fingers. Mindlessly yet gently.

“But if I’m wrong? If you’re gonna hurt them and become wicked again? Then I let you in only to be disappointed again”, Yoongi exhales shakily, “for fuck’s sake Tae, please just don’t disappoint me again.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, hyung”, Taehyung whispers, “and I want to be better from now on. There were many occasions where I was controlled by Namjoon. I hope you are aware of those occasions.”

“I am and I’m not blaming you for them. There were also too many where you acted out of your own free will.”

“I am aware of them and I will remember them so I can better myself. Please believe me, hyung. I want to be better from now on. Not only for the sake of ___ and Kook and Jimin, but also for your sake. I want to be a worthy friend of yours, hyung. One you can rely on and trust.”

Yoongi acknowledges him with a nod of his head. He drops Taehyung’s fingers to instead, close his hand around his’. Gently and without pressure.

“I’m sure that you will be, kiddo. Hyung’s always wished for your best”, Yoongi says in their native tongue. The underlying honesty of speaking in one’s native language, the language closest to the heart, doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung.

“Hyung”, Taehyung breathes shakily, fighting tears.

“Fuck”, Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle, “you’re a bastard for making me talk about my feelings when I’m fucking sleepy. I turn into an honest sap.”

Taehyung giggles, sniffling his tears away.

“I enjoy this a lot, hyung. It’s so difficult to get affection from you.”

“That’s not true. I show affection. Just not like you, you public sap.”

Taehyung chuckles, “now you are just saying stuff for the sake of saying them.”

“Brat”, Yoongi murmurs and chuckles softly, “now go to sleep, Tae. It’ll get too late and we’ll be tired as fuck tomorrow.”

“I will try, but I don’t know if I will be successful. My heart is racing terribly after what you said.”

Yoongi chuckles, “try to”, he says breathily and grows softer in Taehyung’s arms.

Taehyung snuggles into Yoongi, closing his eyes while his lips refuse to drop their smile. He is so happy that he feels like bursting in fireworks and sparkles.

The last thing Yoongi does before he falls asleep is to intertwine his fingers with Taehyung. He isn’t awake anymore for the small gasp of disbelief Taehyung releases or the whispered “hyung” he lets out. Sleep has dragged him away and soon, oh so very soon because he finally has something to hold, Taehyung follows.

The night will be peaceful and neither of the two men will leave the hug for even one second.

[sea-of-dust]

Alva,Fredrick,Edgar,Demi x Rock Vo. GN! Reader

Compared to the way you dress they would have never guessed you knew your way around a ballroom

N: I'm gonna keep thinking of acheron and black swans dances final frame. Also Frederick's new skin, that thing has a grip on me,poppin party,Céline Dion,Mustard service references

Warnings: mentions of drinking, might be ooc

Ugh, you and luca being friends is one thing, him noticing the hunter and saying "ez sweep" is another. Luca would tell you what to do against him you'd do it, he'd get pissed you two would do it everytime you see em. Strangely enough is that you've never seen Alva before and when you asked who the fabled "tall coat guy" luca would answer "litterally a tall coat guy"

As soon as you did see him however you knew why luca didn't want you to ever meet him. His cold gaze, the scar near his eye, the elegance he radiates. "Are you single?" "Excuse me?" Luca would know instantly if you met him when you come back like a children's cartoon protagonist that's just been kissed by their crush. "Wow..." he was mortified.

Luca does get a bit werided out when he thinks too much about you crushing on his teacher, that dosent stop him from giving you heads up tho. "There's a public map" you stop tuning your neck nearly snapping to see him "where? Can I perform? Is the tall coat guy gonna be there?" "Dunno" "I'll take it" So the most delulu person on earth (you/j) decided to perform under the deck of the ship, not paying much mind as you played songs you thought he'd like, trying not to make direct eye contact with this seemingly uninterested man, too focused on his conversation with the clerk. You thought maybe he had tuned you out after the first few chords, until the next match with him where he hummed. A humming a little too similar to the lyrics you sang. While kiting him you could barely believe your ears, you had to have Demi fact check you.

A few more performances and a chair was all it took for him to begin to speak to you. "That voice of yours is wonderful" your eyes widen, looking up at him quickly, he smirks, reminiscing on the concert. "I'm normally not the type to like rock. I'm glad you're an acception" you froze, you could have sworn he could hear you internally scream or atleast see you blush as much as you did

He isn't very social but you've gotten the treat of seeing him smile, and not terror shock you as much. "You've gotten soft" "have I now?" In truth you went from being able to kite at least 3 ciphers to 2.5, he doesn't terror shock you but he makes up for it in actual shocks. Atleast he's friendly enough to show you where the dungeon is before poking you with the staff. There would also be the occasional soft look in his eyes eventually making a bit more physical contact with you. "You're so pretty" you re-wrap his bandages causally mummbling that out, he retracted his hand quickly. "Did I tie something too tight?" "No" you hold out your hand for his arm. "Do you really think im pretty" your eyes widen "I didn't think you heard me but yea, the way your eyes pierce into people is attractive" you blush embrassed you're rambling this much "atleast in my opinion" he looks away before placing his arm into your hand to continue wrapping, you continue on nervously wrapping them. He'd look at them later on in the match, thinking about what you said, it's too distracting for him to just not hear "you're pretty" over and over

He'd ask you out pretty awkwardly, because it would be straight to the point. "I love you, please consider me as a partner" "." He'd stand there like a brick and you would be to, out of pure shock your brain would have just exploded by then. "Sure-" brainfart of an answer, biggest regret of your life. Thank god he didn't seem to mind.

He likes comming out of his office just to see you out there practicing, you'd hear his foot steps and greet him with a smirk. "You've been in there for 15 hours I can't feel my hands" "I'm sure you're fine" "they feel like white noise" "so you feel them" "no" closing his eyes he'd listen to your careful fingers press on strings and strum, whenever he opened his eyes he always looked love struck so you try to block out his face from your mind, but the more you try to shut it out the more clear it gets. You had to stop looking at him when you practice

He'd notice if you've overused your voice during a match. Coughing, trying to relieve strain, pinching the front of your neck. He'd stop you mid kite and tell you about ways to relieve it. "Hopefully you like tea and honey." "?" "For your throat" "oh" he kisses your forehead. "I'll prepare some after this. Go decode for now" you'd have a higher chance of failing ciphers after that, Luca had to supervise. "He's so pretty..." "decode for him" easiest way to get you to lock in and to shut up about Alva

The only pet peeve he has with you is when you're both in a match and a survivor would say something along the lines of "I don't know how to get around this hunter" and you and luca would respond simultaneously "ez sweep" so he started finding loop holes, such as winking at you during kites, flirting with you if he found you first leaving the cipher bare, and just going after Luca first. He was no longer "ez sweep" to you two anymore, you had to tell a new survivor to "follow their gut!" For a while

He didn't care much for your rumors about being an aristocrat, if anything they're an afterthought, and an explanation on why you're able to causally name plants, and almost never use your hands when eating you'd eat fruits with a fork or a toothpick. This did come into play when you asked him to dance. Surely nothing it could be fine? He barely remembers how to do ballroom dance, so you went easy on him. It felt like a roller coaster. You could be able to tell he was embrassed everytime he almost stepped on your feet, the quick turns he wasn't ready for you'd catch his eyes widen. Somehow able to dip someone as tall as him you catch an exhausted smile on his face. "I should do this more often with you" he scoffs "maybe another time"

Ugh, as a musician he respects you knowing your talents after attending a show you did in the lobby, or just hearing it blast a few times but knowing your background you're gonna have to go the extra mile to even get him to associate with you. A person dressed like some local turning out to be an aristocrat, and their family respects that? Ridiculous you must be lying

He'd warm up to you slowly, he was annoyed he could hear you practice? Take these headphones. Then he couldn't hear the piano? Alright you'll change the time you do practice. He'd hate to admit it but when overwhelmed He'd purposely look for you while practicing, chaotic riffs like the ones you play would usually overwhelm him, but there's a difference when you practice, you're humming the lyrics softly while playing watered downed versions of certain bits, sometimes pleasing soft riffs. It's therapeutic, won't let you catch him listening though

That changes when you begin to date him. Now he's in the same room! "Im gonna pratice one i dont think youd like much" "I'm sure I can enjoy it regardless" you hum uncertainly hesitantly placing your fingers where they need to go, and begin to play, the melodies seeming uncertain of themselves as if shy. "With all the times I made mistakes infront of you I never expected you to be so considerate it hurts your performance" he sits closer to you "I'll be alright, play as you see fit regardless of me being in audience" "alright..." You play a bit hesitantly in the beginning, but pretty quickly you practice as usual, you sigh as you complete it. "That was too difficult" "do you want me to not be here when you practice?" You're not very sure how to answer that

He'd enter your room at night. "I know you're awake" "WOAH" you jolt back squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. "Why are you here at this hour?" "I got scared" "Sure bud" you embrace him, letting stiff arms return the favor. In truth he was kept awake by the thoughts of things couples usually do, sleeping in the same bed being one of them, imagining you there just wasn't going to cut it for him, to have you near him, to trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him let alone close to his chest, he felt at ease. You would wake up to his grip firmly around you or from him carassing your cheek or playing with your hair.

It feels werid when you two aren't in manor games together, you're like eatchothers lucky charms, he can't really handle if you're in too many games without him in a row. "I gotta get back soon Fredrick might sleep on the piano again" Demi raises an eyebrow "he what?" "what if he stares so hard at my guitar it ends up full of sorrow" Demi's heard it all, she's heard of him evaporating, laying on couches, playing piano then sighing pausing and continuing to play a more loudly and harshly (according to Luca) "he thinks about alota things at once you know"

He does feel a bit strange when it comes to physical affection. Hugs and small kisses did feel a icky, when you do show him physical affection you'd try to keep it to a minimum accolading this, he judges you for that. Playing with his hair and stopping he looks up at you with narrowed eyes "what?" "Keep going" he grumbles. He'd start turning around to judge you if you dared to remove your hands from him. Sometimes even initiating, which would confuse and fluster the heck out of you. He does have his limits don't push them and he'll be fine.

He'd invite you to practice with him sometimes. It would always fluster the hell outta you but barely for him. "Are you sure?" You look around a bit frantically "I'm sure" "I'll get my gutair then" as soon as you sit down with him it usually goes with him beginning to play, you joining in after seeming to get the gist, you realize there was sheet music the entire time for you, say that you're "built diffrent" for just knowing what to play automatically "I'm just built like that" "Uh huh..." he disregards it, he knows you forget about the sheet music most of the time. Atleast he doesn't stay there for hours away from most people, that much anymore, now he spends atleast half of that practice session with you.

So to punish you for almost always never paying attention, he decided to make a song, no surprise he'd already think of making you a song, this was just an excuse for if you ever asked him why. "Do you mind if we practice again today" "you can't get enough of me can you" teasing him, you go with him hearing the unfamiliar song he began to play, you get behind him and begin to read the sheet music. "This one has alot of emotion to it" you continue to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think I got this" letting go of him, you play along with the emotional tone of the song. Test magically passed

You'd tease him with some song choices, letting him recognize the songs he wrote played on your gutair, or singing a lyric he just can't pass over for some reason "you haven't found everything you've been searching. Find it with me then we'll lose it and find it again" he blushes you could tell he was thinking too much on it. he turned away closing his eyes as you continued on singing, was your voice always this hypnotizing? Why are these chords so flustering now of all times? "Please stick to rock" "this is rock" "oh" you could barely hear that, getting closer to him you whisper in his ear "pleasantries-" "something I say to you, love" "so you know this" he tries to hide his flustered face. "The lyrics are pretty tame I'm surprised a song you've heard for a while now flustered you" you hug him kissing his cheek. You look foward to his reaction whenever you play songs like that near him, or just him paying too much attention to the lyrics and drifting into his imagination

Now imagine him finding out those you being an aristocrat rumors were real. You had him thinking you were normal until you ate a grape with a toothpick and knew how to tie his aggressively fancy bows. As soon as a partner dance came along you quite litterally swept him off his feet. A style of partner dance that was unique full of dramatic turns it almost felt like you were just dragging him along a bit, a weightless, graceful dance that would have been unexpected if you weren't accustomed to it. A dip is where you two make eye contact. "Did I tuker you out too much?" You smile uncertainly,him huffing to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts. "I'm fine" "would you like to do for another then?" "I'd rather not"

Ugh, pretty loud and he just hears the mumbles, he'll think it's incoherent metal, disrupts painting when you hear a sudden yell no matter how pretty it is

He dosent dislike you personally, after all you gave him your spare ear muffs when he brought this up to you. He becomes a good ally after that, you could go for a rescue and he'd be able to cover you. Those ear muffs come in handy, so handy that hunters try to take them. Unfortunately, you or him are always the first to yank them off or knock It out the hand of the hunter

He would slowly become apart of you Demi and Lucas crew. That one guy in a group that's never there but when he is it makes that day better, he's that guy. It gets so hype over there the hunter would turn their head wondering about the noise. "we got it guys!!" "YEA" "were getting a 4 escape!!" The hunters oprea singer

He'd grow super attached to you after you say something positive about his art. "Youve made this in a day?" "Yea?" "I find that hard to believe, the layering in this, the way they don't just lay ontop of eatchother but blend, not to mention accurate shadows" you take a pause dazed at the fine work. "It's beautiful" he doesn't speak, shocked that you knew the beauty and worth of his art something that most he met didn't understand, he fell for you hard over those comments, exactly why he shows you his pieces more often

You two would start dating rather quickly, you dropping signs the most aggressive way possible, causally holding hands when alone, sharing a cipher and really bad ideas "we should rescue luca" "no" "?" "He told me I should cut my canvas in half so I had four drawings instead of two" "...I mean in concept it's good but it might set ya off" "it already did" "after half then?" "Yea" thankfully Demi swooped in

You do try to sit down and paint with him. It was like a toddler following along a Bob Ross tutorial, but atleast Bob didn't stare at your painting for long periods of time. "Are you familiar with aristocrats?" "Yea?" He narrows his eyes "are you one?" "Are my drawings that bad?" "No these strokes are just ones nobility usually do" "crazy" he knew you were an aristocrat, and one that appreciated his art is even better. "Consider me your biggest fan in the art world" he giggles going back to his piece

He's run out of paintings during a match? Suddenly this isn't a match it's a rock show. "Find something in the item boxes nearby I'll distract them for you" distract them the loudest way possible how did you even bring an amp to a match?! "Why do you keep playing poppin party songs" "1) they're loud enough to cover the sound of us moving 2) they're more focused on me, the source of the music and 3) if you actually noticed" you point at Joseph "I found out he in particular has a real liking for Arisa he's not just gonna ignore her out of all people" Sure enough a familiar photographer appeared in the distance. "You mind opening the exit gate"

Despite him being sarcastic as hell he tries to sing along when you practice or perform. "You look like someone just sucked the life outta you" "how do you do this on the regular?" "Vocal practice wait till you have to scream in matches to save people" "." This stuff isn't for him but listening to you do it sounds alot better, and its nice to hum. You've caught him humming more times than you can count, and whenever you tell him he gets embrassed. "It's cute tho" "I'm sure the hunter could catch us if I continued" "They're across the map"

He hates the way you kiss whenever you're rushing somewhere. You do this thing he calls the entertainer's peck. Where you'd wave or acknowledge him, kiss his cheek and continue walking. He hates it because of how it lingers, you can't just take his hand to turn him toward you only to kiss him on the cheek and leave to a concert area or to decode. You're making him lose focus, one of those kisses that make you want another. You'd have him mummbling like a fool, espically if he could chase after you he'd give you his own peck, which led to the part he hated the most, the soft "I'll cherish this" expression on your face when you look back at him. He's giving you another until you stop looking at him like that!

He knew you were an aristocrat and he was thankful for it there was a higher chance you realized his talents. Hed ask you to dance first. "Shall we dance?" "Sure" informal way of accepting but formal style of dance. The way you both were able to be in sync no matter what move you threw at him, it turned out to be more of a test of skill than a friendly dance, as soon as you dipped him you could see all of the energy he lost hit him at once as he could barely keep himself up, you giggled at his predicament. "We should do this more often, you're alot more used to this than I thought" "we should, maybe I could try tossing you" his face straightens "nevermind"

Party! She's litterally with you all the time, with Luca as a carry on. You three would basically host rock concerts in the manor. You'd sing about freedom and living on, who cares for the noise complaint invest in ear plugs!!

You'd always be with her or luca during the games, though you do prefer Demi a bit more, she dosent laugh so hard it alerts the hunter. She's also more aware than Luca making running away alot easier. Though after games you prefer Luca, Luca doesn't cling to you so much you have to sleep in the same bed as him to make him feel better, he just calls you his hero

Does help when you're rescuing her, Naiad could be dashing toward you yet all be stopped by a simple ear spliting shreak from you, you had her seeing double. "I didn't know you could also do metal" "it's useful with the amount of commissions I get"

She'd randomly get an idea to try and wing along while you play. "I got it I got it" reasuring herself you begin to play familiar chords as she opens her mouth you change them to diffrent ones "I DONT KNOW THE LYRICS TO TEAR DROPS" "you got it!" She indeed barely had it, barely able to say of the lyrics correctly. Her revenge? "You mind playing this" she shows you probably the most confusing sheet music you've seen in your career a Fredrick special if you will. "Alright-" and so the manor wondered what happened to the music they randomly heard when passing your room for the next 2 days

She'd fall asleep If you two weren't summoned for a round that day leaving you and her alone to explore the manor or practice guitar. People would come and go to you twos makeshift karoke. Espically Norton apparently. "IT WAS LOST LONG AGO BUT ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" those two would sing with their hearts out the whole manor could tell you the lyrics by heart. You could play a cord to a song she'd accidently "ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" "." "That wasn't the right song?" "No"

Almost scream royality. Random bug? "AHHHHHH" small spoke? "AUHHHHHHH" you and luca pretending to be possessing eatchothers bodies "NOOOOOO" surprisingly she doesn't scream like this when a giant nun lady jumps at her, except when she did and found out why you're scream royality. "So how'd ya get chaired?" "Rescue me first" "you're way too far from half" she pouts "so I tried screaming to burst her ear drums like you do..." "and?" "And she looked me straight in the eyes, then the cat screamed louder I swear it was like one of yours and then I was here" ".pft" "not cool!"

She gets tipsy during rounds, leading to some fun confessions of love. "Y/n...I love youu" she leans onto you, puckered lips to an exaggerated degree. "I gotta decode Demi" sighing you let her cling onto you tighter "did any person tell you how cute you are? Am I the first?" "You aren't" she gasps dramatically "reallllyyyy?" "Yea, a barmaid got to me before you" she blows a raspberry

She leads you away for rounds, asking for help setting up a kiting area. "Thanks for the help" she lands a kiss on your cheek. "Demi" "what?" "I appreciate it but Luca might vomit over this again" "he forced himself to" she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning in to be closer to you "he'll be fine" he wasn't fine. "You two really gotta get a room" "wadya mean?" "You keep looking with these lovey dovey eyes, were all on the same cipher and that poor guys probably single handedly evading that rock guy. "Arent they the same person" "yea they both got that same scar" "now you're tag teaming me?" "Yea" you both make the same look.

If she were ever to escape the hunter injured she'll run to you near instantly. "I think you should kiss me and all my injuries will heal" "that's not how it works Demi" you continue your healing "you're so warm..." "I know" "hehe" you kiss her forehead, finishing up. "I'm still injured" she dramatically places her hand on her forehead, both of you hearing a cipher being popped. "Oh look you're at full health" she sighs "worth a shot"

You being an aristocrat? She didn't care much but it did affect how you did certain things, and explained why you knew how to take care of plants,paint, and piano...barely the gutairs more fitting. When you asked her to dance, she got flustered, such a formal request, but comming from you it should have been a bit obvious it was comming. She didn't expect how graceful you were, it felt like an instructor dancing with their student for a test, the turns focused eyes turning to soft looks whenever you made eye contact with her. It was a flustering the hell outta of her she couldn't think for more than two secounds with you suddenly invading her thoughts with the shift in demeanor. When she took the lead by the end and dipped you, you seemed to snap out of it. "You're really good at improv" "how sweet of you" she huffs bringing you up to stand. "Would you like to dance again later?" "You sound like an old noble"

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 4 - Pick me up

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Brief mention to reader’s (small) injury, references to past motorcycle accident and life changing injury.

Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, I'm aiming to update at least once a week - hopefully more some weeks - but life is quite busy at the moment. All your reblogs and comments are so appreciated, thank-you!

You sat awkwardly on a rickety old desk in the backroom as Bucky carefully pulled the tiny shards of glass from your arm with a tweezer. He’d already checked out your head injury, which was barely an injury at all really, a mere scratch and small bump. After a few tests he seemed satisfied you weren’t concussed, so he’d moved on to the glass wound.

He still seemed mad, so you kept quiet, trying not to concentrate on his proximity. His fingers moved agilely and delicately despite his hefty frame, but you supposed it made sense that someone who worked on cars and motorcycles most of the day would be good with their hands.

Your mouth pulled into a grimace as he pulled another shard out and then quickly cleaned the area with antiseptic, causing you to hiss.

“Almost done…” he said monotonously.

“Thanks” you replied.

Your tone was sheepish, you felt a little embarrassed that he was now patching you up after you’d clapped back at him. Your mouth sometimes got ahead of you like that. But it was hard not to feel aggrieved when he was also making you feel like a kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

“Hold still…” he scolded.

Yeah…just like that.

“I am still”.

“No…you’re moving. Cut it out”.

“You cut it out!”

He sighed heavily. “Whatever…”

The two of you stewed in silence for a few more minutes until he pulled the final piece out and cleaned and bandaged the wound, then meticulously packed everything back into his medical kit. You thanked him and kept your head down, running your fingers across the bandage as you wondered what to say. You didn’t normally feel shy around Bucky, but the incident with the customer and your subsequent squabbling had thrown you off. Your general feelings towards him seemed to oscillate between sheer lust and intense annoyance.

“So…I guess you’ll be quitting then” he said glumly as he turned around and put the kit back into a desk drawer.

You looked up, surprised. “Huh?”

“After this, I mean” he cleared his throat. “I guess you’ll be quitting the job”.

“Why?”

He turned towards you; confusion and annoyance evident on his face. “…Because you got assaulted by a customer and I didn’t stop it?”

You tilted your head in sudden understanding. “That’s why you’re being so pissy? You think I’m going to quit?”

He frowned; his tone clipped. “Why wouldn’t you? You don’t need this shit on top of all your house stuff”.

Well…he was sort of right. You didn’t really need the money (although it helped), and you really didn’t need to be dealing with drunk guys trying to bottle you…but…in all honesty? You’d dealt with worse over the years. A drunk guy with bad aim wasn’t pleasant, but you liked this job – you liked the MC, you liked the regulars, you liked that it gave you something to do in the evenings rather than aimlessly wander Granny’s house, you liked…Bucky.

“I’m not quitting, Bucky” you told him defiantly.

He looked genuinely surprised, his blue eyes narrowing. “What? Look…I’d understand, we fucked up – we should’ve been there to protect you and we were fuckin’ around playing pool”.

You frowned. “Look…don’t feel guilty. I should’ve called you over and not tried to manage him by myself when he started getting rowdy…I guess I just, didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it…” you told him quietly.

He chuckled fondly. “Sugar…I know full well you can handle it. I’ve seen the way you can handle yourself. But drunks can be unpredictable. You need to tell one of us if things get ugly, okay? That’s why we’re here”.

You nodded. “Alright”.

“Promise me you’ll call me or one of the others over if someone so much as raises their voice to you”. His tone was stern, he was clearly very serious about this.

“Scout’s honour” you replied sunnily as you held up your fingers in a mock salute, trying to ease some of the strange tension that was in the air.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the stern look on his face was still there.

“And you’re really staying? Because if you wanted to quit..”

“No…Bucky, I’m staying”.

The silence hung awkwardly between you until you cleared your throat, looking over at the cabinet where he’d put away the kit.

“So uh…I didn’t think you’d have First Aid training”.

“You learn a few things after you come off your bike a couple of times” he sighed gruffly.

You nodded silently in response, but he caught your eyes briefly darting to look over at his metal arm.

“Yes…” he wiggled his metal fingers. “That was one of those times…can’t fix that with our First Aid box though” he muttered.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he softened. “I don’t mind talking about it. Really. Long time ago now. Got knocked off my bike by a truck and got pretty badly mangled. They couldn’t save it…”

“Jesus, Bucky, I’m SO sorry. I had no idea…”

“It’s fine,” he said pragmatically. “Accidents happen. Life goes on. Besides, got an upgrade out of it…” he smiled grimly and flexed the robotic arm.

“And you still get on your bike every day, even after all that?” you asked with disbelief.

He nodded, a smile lighting up his face. “It’s what I love. Nothing could stop me doing what I love. Yeah, I was a bit shaky at first. But you adapt. That’s what life is about, isn’t it?”

You smiled back at him. He was like regular Bucky again. You admired the way his face lit up when he spoke about his passion, quietly impressed by his determination to get back in the saddle. You wished you could be more like him in that way, rather than cowering in your indecision when things went south. You looked back over at his metal arm.

“I mean…it’s amazing. So intricate. I’ve never seen a prosthetic like it. How do you even go about getting a robot arm?”

“Friends in high places,” he tittered. “Tony Stark threw it in as part of a deal…”

Your eyes widened. “Tony Stark…the weapons magnate?”

Bucky just winked in response.

“Why would you and Tony Sta- No…you know what? I don’t need to know…”

“Yeah…probably for the best,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, but you were secretly relieved that the tension between you both had eased. Back to dumb jokes and sassing each other.

He smiled back at you for a second, but it faded so quickly that it made your stomach flip. He looked over at you forcefully, his eyes dark. It was a look you hadn’t seen before.

“Bucky…what is it-”

“I’m sorry again…that you got hurt,” he said gravely. “I would never…if I’d known…” he sighed. “I just mean…the last thing I’d ever want is for you to be in harm’s way…”

You paused, struck by the sincerity in his voice. You stared back at him, nodding sluggishly as he moved closer to you, unable to tear your eyes away from him. Time seemed to slow as he leaned towards you. Your eyes widened as he tilted his head, his expression intense. He leaned in closer and closer, and you found yourself moving too, like a moth to a flame. As his lips met yours it was like a lightning bolt, your breath caught in your chest as you suppressed a gasp and let yourself melt into him. His tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening, and you reciprocated greedily. Suddenly his hands were on your thighs, moving up your hips, your waist. The heat of his touch searing. Your own fingers grabbed at his kutte, pulling him closer and closer but still never close enough as his mouth moved to your throat. You practically mewled as his lips met the flesh of your neck, you tilted your head back to allow him full access. Your eyes closed as you bit your lip, his mouth ghosted over your skin and-

The heavy knocking sent you crashing back down to earth with a cruel bump, a tiny gasp escaping you as he pushed you back down against the wood.

“Buck…” came the muffled voice from behind the door. “We need to go. Sorry. Does your best employee need a ride home?”

“What is it, Sam?” Bucky snarled as he stood and moved towards the door.

“Rumlow…he’s apparently making a move…”

Bucky exhaled, he turned to look at you for a second, opening his mouth to speak before shaking his head in silent apology. His eyes said more than his lips ever could. You nodded in return.

He swung the door open and Sam stood there. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed or awkward to interrupt, so he was either being polite enough not to mention it, or simply hadn’t picked up on the slight heaviness in your breathing, or the way you were somewhat splayed across the desk.

“Goddamn. Alright. Let’s go,” Bucky instructed. “Sugar…you need a ride?”

“N-no. I drove. All good” you stuttered as you regained your composure.

“Sam…have someone ride back with her. Just in case”.

“Bucky I’m fine I-”

He looked at you warningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright…” you sighed. “Give me the motorcycle escort”.

His hard expression softened for a split second; a hint of a smile sent your way. The beginnings of a sparkle in his baby blues.

And then he was gone.

[elementroar]

A.B.A is an experimental clone of the real Dr. Paracelsus (fan-theory)

(I made the distinction in the title but to be clear - I mean Paracelsus her creator, not Paracelsus we all know and love but the one A.B.A renamed him after. To differentiate, I'm referring to them as Dr. Paracelsus)

So, this might not be common knowledge watching Guilty Gear from the outside, but there's actually two Asukas currently 'active' in STRIVE - the original Asuka R. Kreutz and his clone Asuka R♯. In fact, it's the clone that's the main playable character, and the arcade mode is from the clone's perspective as he is his own character separate from the real Asuka.

Asuka R# was created based on Asuka admiring the construction of the Valentine sisters, and the "Frasco specimen" and creating his own clone based on that research. The 'Frasco specimen' is currently assumed to be referring to A.B.A (and was potentially a teaser for A.B.A's eventual inclusion into the game at that point in time).

Asuka (R#): No? Well, I beg to differ. Otherwise… I might never learn why you created me. Asuka: …Um, well… About that. The Valentine sisters, formed by the Universal Will, were perfect beings. I hadn’t seen such immaculate synthetic life since the Frasco specimen. Asuka (R#): So you wanted to try it for yourself. At least you're honest... if ethically bankrupt. Asuka: Let me guess... Do you resent me? Asuka (R#): No need to worry about that. Unless you resent yourself. Now, why don’t we kill a little more time?

What if I tell you there aren't just multiple examples of artificial lifeforms like A.B.A that are all clones of someone, but even in the current official Guilty Gear World entry for 'Homunculus', it's explicitly mentioned there are multiple homunculi in the world and that A.B.A could have 'siblings'?

All the Valentine sisters are clones of the original Aria Hale. So everyone here is technically, on some level, genetically the same person:

And R# is also a near identical clone of Asuka, down to possessing the same memories and experiences but programmed by Asuka to be more socially active than he really is, and also to lack a moral compass (which doesn't seem like a good idea but ok).

So if A.B.A is a similar experiment to the two examples we know, then it follows she is likely an experiment into synthetic clones as well.

And then there's the official entry under "Homunculus" in the offiical Guilty Gear World database (link goes to the online wiki copy of the entry).

That's right, there's confirmation there's multiple homunculi out there, with it explicitly hinted that A.B.A is simply the only one to appear in the games "so far". And either they are going to be unique homunculi, or possibly 'clones' of/like A.B.A that vary like the Valentine sisters do.

And this may be a superficial design coincidence, but original Asuka's eyes are golden while his clone R#'s eyes are green, and quite a similar if not the exact same shade as A.B.A's

But note that the original Aria's eye color was green, and her four clones all have very different eye colors (Elphelt's seems close but hers is actually light blue). It prolly does mean that even when making a near-identical clone like Asuka did with R#, the clone's eye color being different is one of the main differences that appear.

And this leads back to my previous theory that Dr. Paracelsus could be revealed to actually be a woman, and that A.B.A is her genetic clone. As the name 'Paracelsus' is actually a made-up name that's a portmanteau of the words 'para' (meaning 'beyond') and the name 'Celsus' and just meant 'beyond Celsus' and was the historical alchemist's way of dissing another alchemist called Celsus. So there's no inherent gender related to the name 'Paracelsus', and can be a nickname for a woman alchemist/scientist.

This would also help explain all the perfectly sized shorts that A.B.A found around Frasco in the first place to wear. They could belong to her 'mother' who would be exactly the same size as her.

I'm rooting for a future introduction of an older woman scientist that gets to be revealed as A.B.A's creator, because I think the visual would be so cool. Cos her 'mother' would be her but aged normally. And can you imagine if Dr. Paracelsus treats Paracelsus as her son-in-law!?

[canmargesimpson]

Chapter 2:

Chapter 1

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

April 30, 1996.

Eddie, who was at his studio, sat on his piano with some pens and papers, trying to figure out how the bridge of his new song should go. He spent hours, repeating over and over the melody but then stopping at the same part, since it felt like nothing could ever continue it. As if there was no follow up to the story he was writing, like if in the middle of the book the protagonist died and there was no more story at all. It frustrated him so much, he was scratching his head nervously, biting his nails and even smashing the piano tiles whenever he tried to even continue the song. Nothing seemed to work. So when his Motorola cell phone rang, he thanked god to be able to get away from the monster that has become his piano.

“Hello?”

“Eddie!” Steve’s voice called from the over side, in a quite excited way that grabbed the man's attention quickly

“Baby? Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” he asked

“Lunch break” 

“Lunch break? But it's like 10 in the morning?”

“Eddie, it's 2… have you been in the studio all day?” the shift in steve’s voice knew that if he said yes the answer would bring him trouble

“No?”

“Eddie! I’ve told you it's not healthy to spend an entire morning locked in a room with only a piano and a guitar! Go eat something, or even just go to the bathroom”

Eddie huffed knowing that Steve hated the fact Eddie spent an entire day writing and not even eating, but everytime he was there, it felt like time moved faster somehow.

“I know, I'm sorry, I'm gonna grab my jacket now and leave to go eat something alright? Now what are you calling me for?” eddie asked as he stood up from the piano stool and walked to the the little table besides the door and grab his keys

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Steve’s disappointed and warning tone changed to a giddy one which turned Eddie's heart around “So remember I told you I was gonna talk to my colleague, Sarah, whose cousin works at the Orphanage? Well, i got in contact with the director of the place, and told me we could go next Friday at 4”

“Wait really?” eddie stopped his tracks as he walked out of the studio department 

“Yes!” he exclaimed “there are about 23 kids, the age ranges are form 2-15 year old”

“I'm not adopting a two year old human, sorry” Eddie laughed nervously. He still won't be completely in love with the idea of a kid in their house, but at least he could hold a 10 minute conversation with a 6 year old. And that was progress

“I know” Steve sighed a laugh “so i told her that probably a kid from 6-12, and that we don’t really have anything in mind”

“Wait” Eddie thanked God that there was no one else in that elevator with him at this moment “you told her about… us? Like… the fact that we…”

“Are a same sex marriage? Yes'' and with that eddie sighed loudly “ she told me that she has had a lot of queer parents adopting, so it's definitely not a problem, we just need to make sure we are suitable for taking care of a minor” 

“And how-”

“It's an interview. And before you panic, no, it's not about knowledge about children” another loud sigh came from eddie “it's about it we are… responsible and economically okay to take care of a child. Then they are coming to our house to make sure the kid is gonna live in a safe and decent house. It's just regular procedure”

“Wow'' Eddie smiled, quite shocked that this might be finally happening. They might be finally adopting a kid “and how long to like… get the kid”

The other line went dead. Eddie couldn't even hear Steve’s breathing. Just by this reaction, he knew the answer was not gonna be pleasant.

“Steve?”

“Umm…. they said about…. 6 to…. 18 months?”

“18 Months!?” Eddie exclaimed loudly “Steve!”

“I know!!” he whines back

“I'm gonna be gone! Tour starts in a year and- what if i’m not there? What if the child comes into the home, and i'm not there and then when i come home they hate me? What if something happens to them or me, and I never get to meet them! Steve-”

“Eddie i know! I just… We’ve been waiting for such a long time…. There is hope that maybe it could be less. They say that if it works perfectly, it can be at least 6 months”

“For me to leave in six months? Not to forget, this tour is long, and then i have to do interviews and shit I- steve…” Eddie breathed loudly “I don’t want you to do this alone, because you and I both know it sucks not having a parent around, and I'm letting that kid go through this. I don't wanna be like you dad! I don’t want to leave for over a year, and then just come around to say happy birthday or merry christmas and then leave again! And with the new album-”

“Eddie you would never be like my father you hear me? Never.” Steve sternly said as he sat up from his desk chair to look at the window to where the kids were playing football “I just… maybe… you should just… not release the album maybe?” Steve knew he was on thin ice now.

“Not- Are you crazy?! I’ve been working my ass off with Gareth for almost 2 years now! We can’t just postpone! This is super important for me Steven, I can't just drop my entire work for a kid!”

And the line went dead. In both ends, the men were holding the phones to their ear with eyes closed looking at the floor trying to somehow make this better. To somehow change the entire universe so they could be happy and all could fit. But they can’t. So when Eddie heard the 3 beeps of the dead line, he knew he fucked up and real bad this time. 

He left for a Chinese restaurant and bought the usual. He walked back to his studio, and sat back again at the piano while he ate his chicken quietly. And then it hit him. The melody of the song suddenly crashed into him like a train and it all made sense. The story does continue, and this little rocky path made him stumble. But once he placed both hands on the keyboard the story seemed to write itself as he just played along with only one thing on his mind.

Steve.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[lousypotatoes]

Everyone From The Place

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

Song Recommendation:

Everybody Loves My Baby - Jack Palmer

Warning! This chapter had mentions of physical/mental abuse and panic attacks, and depictions of mental abuse. If any of these topics trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please read with caution.

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

90 years ago...

It had been about a month since Y/N and Alastor went out drinking together, the two of them going out every other day, whether it be getting drinks, getting dinner or lunch together, or just the two of them walking around New Orleans.

Y/N would never admit it to anyone, but she was absolutely head over heels in love with Alastor. The way he talked, the way he presented himself, how he was such a gentleman, she loved every part of him and so much more.

Alastor felt the same way about her, maybe even more. The way her face lit up whenever she talked about flowers or Honey, her sense of humor, the way she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She didn't know it, but she had Alastor wrapped around her finger.

And he loved every single second of it.

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

"That'll be three dollars, ma'am," Y/N said smiling, handing over the bouquet of lilies to the woman.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman smiled, handing Y/N money. "You have a lovely shop,"

"Well, thank you kindly," Y/N said. "I'm guessin' you're visitin' from outta town?"

"How did you know?" the woman asked.

"Every soul here in New Orleans has stepped foot in my shop at least once," Y/N said, handing the woman her change.

"For good reason," the woman said. "It's very impressive what you've done with the place. Not a lot of women can say that they own a thriving business. Especially during these trying times."

"Ah, I get that a lot," Y/N said. "Where you from anyway? If you don't mind me askin' of course."

"A small little town in Kansas," the woman said. "My daughter lives here and I'm visiting for her birthday."

"That's nice," Y/N gushed. "You tell her I said happy birthday. You have a good rest of your day ma'am."

"You as well, dear," the woman said as she walked out the door.

Y/N took the cash from the register and put it in the back room. While she was in there, she checked her schedule. She was glad that she didn't have to kill anyone that night. Even though she had been doing it for 15 years, the job left her exhausted and sleep deprived.

Who knew being an assassin was such hard work?

Walking out the backroom door, she saw a familiar face, looking at the arrange of flowers, holding a brown paper bag.

"What'll it be today Alastor?" Y/N said loudly, making him jump.

"Don't scare me like that, dear," he said, adjusting his coat. "I could of knocked over the flowers."

"You tip over any of them vases, you're payin' the bill," she laughed. "Besides, that was payback for all the times you've scared me."

"All right, all right," Alastor said, walking over to the counter. "I'll take these here marigolds."

"Marvelous pick," Y/N said. "That'll be four bucks,"

"How's business today?" Alastor asked, taking out money.

"Slow, but that's because no one wants to come outta their house, it's so hot out here," Y/N laughed. "How was the broadcast this morning? I didn't get the chance to listen to it."

"It went alright," he said, taking his change. "There were these women who kept trying to wriggle their way into the station, though."

"Seems like you have some mighty eager fans," she giggled. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you for reminding me," he said, handing her the brown bag. "I figured you wouldn't want to go out in this blistering heat, so I fetched you some lunch."

Y/N was touched. "You didn't have to do that, Al,"

"Yes, but I wanted to,"

Y/N reached into the bag. "Oh! You got me gumbo!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up in the way Alastor loved. "How'd you know?"

"I remember you telling me once," Alastor smiled.

"Thank you so much Alastor!" Y/N said. "Tell you what, tomorrow night, swing by my place and I'll whip up a batch of jambalaya for you."

Alastor's face turned red, the two of them had never been to each others house before. The only times were when Alastor would pick Y/N up for their outings together. Him only ever stepping foot in her living room.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N," Alastor said, covering his blushing face.

"Nonsense!" Y/N waved off. "It's the least I can do for you, fetchin' me lunch."

"Well, if you insist, my dear," Alastor said. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to make it to my-"

"-2'oclok broadcast. Yes I know," Y/N interrupted. "I know the routine by heart now."

Alastor smiled, taking Y/N's hand in his "I shall see you tomorrow then, Y/N." he said, kissing her knuckle.

"I'm lookin' forward to it already," Y/N blushed.

Looking at her face one more time, smiling gently to himself, he left the store.

When he left, Y/N started giggling to herself. She was so in love with him. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. She was so distracted that she didn't even hear the bell ring, signaling that a customer came in.

"Seems like you finally got this establishment up and runnin'," said a voice that made Y/N freeze, her eyes widening.

She turned and saw a man with wavy brown hair and cold eyes. Someone that made her blood freeze and goosebumps appear all over her skin. Someone that made her skin go pale and her breathing quicken. Someone that made her freeze in fear.

"What? So startled by my appearance that you're speechless?" the man smirked.

"W-What-" she stuttered, finding her voice. "What in God's name are you doin' here, Jasper?"

"Ain't I allowed to visit my fiancé at work?" Jasper said, coming closer to the counter.

"That was fifteen years ago!" she said, backing into the wall. "Me and you are nothin' now!"

"Just because I ended up behind bars doesn't mean we're finished,"

"That's exactly what that means!" she yelled. "You know you can't be within fifty feet of me. Now leave before I call the cops!"

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up a vase of carnations, admiring them.

CRASH!

Glass shards and flowers were scattered all over the floor.

"Oops," Jasper said.

"I mean it Jasper!" Y/N said. "Get the fuck out!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that again, you worthless bitch," he said, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Unless you want me to beat you to a bloody pulp, just like old times."

Y/N backed into the wall, lost for words.

For the first time in fifteen years, Y/N felt scared.

"Just go away, Jasper," she whispered. "Please. I don't want any trouble."

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up another vase and dropping it onto the floor.

Without another word, Jasper left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N's body shut down, her having to grab onto the counter to support herself. She let out a sob she didn't even know she was holding in, her cries bouncing off the flower shop walls, and her tears streaming down her face.

After about ten minutes of this, she got out a broom, and started sweeping up the glass shards and flowers. After she was done, she leaned up against the wall. Looking up at the clock above her, she saw that it was only two-fifteen.

"I need a drink," she said, exhausted.

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

It was now five-thirty, Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her fourth thing of whiskey.

As soon as she closed up the flower shop, she decided to walk to Mimzy's bar, not bothering to go home and change.

She was there for about thirty minutes. Mimzy had been over to check on Y/N during those, sensing that she wasn't okay. Y/N had told Mimzy she was alright and that she just wanted to be left alone. Mimzy listened and told her that her drinks were free for the rest of the time she was there.

Already deciding before she got there, Y/N didn't want to get blackout drunk, but just drunk enough to where she would forget her and Jasper's interaction.

Sipping on her whiskey, Y/N felt angry at herself. She could have shot that asshole right in his head if she wanted to, she was an assassin for crying out loud.

But Jasper was the one person she was genuinely afraid of.

"Why aren't you smiling, my dear?" said a voice from behind her. "You know you're never fully dressed without one."

"Hi, Alastor," she said, not even turning to look at him.

Alastor frowned, knowing that something was wrong.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, keeping her gaze on her glass. "I just had a bad interaction with a customer, that's all."

Alastor stayed silent as he sat down at the bar next to her.

"Would you like to me to keep you company?" he asked gently. "Or would you like me to leave?"

"Stay here," Y/N said, holding back tears. She felt pathetic. "Please."

"Alright then," he said.

"If I would have known you'd be here, I would have invited you," she said, sipping on her whiskey.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," he waved off. "I was already thinking about inviting you here anyways."

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Y/N said.

"Well in that case," he said, getting up and offering her his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Y/N smiled before taking his hand.

"You always know the best things to say, Al,"

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

It was now nine-thirty. During those four hours at the bar, Y/N and Alasotr had drank, danced, talked, laughed, and smoke. Y/N was glad that Alastor showed randomly out of the blue. She always felt better when Alastor was close by.

Alastor didn't tell Y/N this, but Mimzy had actually called her, saying "You better get your fuckin' ass over here. Something ain't right with your girl."

As soon as he hung up the phone, he headed straight to Mimzy's bar.

Right now, Alastor was currently walking Y/N home, the two of them talking about his mother's jambalaya recipe.

"Think your ma would be willin' to share her recipe?" Y/N asked.

"I don't think she'd have an issue with it," he answered. "You'd have t meet her first."

"Oh, I would love to meet your ma!" she said. "Do you think she'd like me?"

"She already adores you, darling,"

"I'm guessin' you've talked to your ma about me then?" Y/N giggled seeing Alastor's blushing face.

"What's not to talk about?" Alastor replied, making Y/N's face turn red.

They reached Y/N's house, the two of them walking up to her front porch. They were facing each other, Y/N was looking up at Alastor, while Alastor was looking down at Y/N, the two of them so close together.

"Thank you for helpin' me take my mind off today, Al," she said, looking up at him in a way that made Alastor's breath get caught in his throat.

"It really wasn't a problem, dear, you don't have to thank me," he said. "If you need help with anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Are we still set for jambalaya tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"

It was quiet, the two of them not saying a word.

Oh, how desperately the two of them wanted to wrap their arms around each other and kiss until they had to break apart for air.

The air between them was thick, and heavy with tension.

Alastor's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips and back to her eyes.

"Y/N..." he swallowed hard. "May I...is it alright if I kiss you?"

"Yes," Y/N whispered. "It's alright."

As gentle as he possibly could, he lifted up her chin with his fingers.

Alastor hesitated for a moment, the look on his face asked 'Are you sure this is alright?'

Y/N nodded slowly and Alastor closed the gap between them, placing his lips on hers.

His lips were soft and warm and tasted like cinnamon. Just like everything else he did, his touch was gentle. It made Y/N feel like her heart was about to burst out of chest. Testing out the fields, she very slowly and shyly moved her hands to the back of his neck.

Alastor tensed up for a moment, but relaxed, moving his hands and placing them on her hips. The way their lips moved perfectly against each other made Alastor's heart melt. The way he was feeling in that moment, he was addicted to it like a drug and wanted more of it.

Like a starved man, Alastor craved Y/N's touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Oh, you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that, dear," Alastor breathed out, kissing her forehead.

"Oh, I think I do," Y/N said. "How about one more? To make up for lost time?"

"You read my mind," he laughed before placing his lips on hers once more.

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

THEY KISSED RAHHHHHHH

literally i am so happy

i wanna give alastor a big o'l kiss

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

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[chuchuchurch]

✮⋆˙ Chigiri Hyouma ˙⋆✮

gn!reader, fluff/comfort, you comfort him after a long day <3

Chigiri sat on the bathroom counter, almost sitting in the sink if not for the fact he was curled in on himself, leaning against the wall and watching you do your skincare routine. He watched wordlessly, hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes were filled with a sad, nothing feeling and the remains of tears he'd shed a few minutes prior.

You didn't speak as you rubbed moisturiser into your cheeks. You were worried though, Chigiri had come home with the kind of aura you just knew meant that he was upset but he'd refused to tell you what was wrong no matter how much you tried to gently coaxed him into spilling his guts. It's been almost four hours since, dinner had been made and eaten in silence and despite trying to think of a way to make things better the whole time, you'd come up empty.

You went to brush your teeth, hands reaching for the brush and Chigiri's eyes followed your every move despite the awkward way his neck was craned. The bathroom light was just the wrong kind of dull, too yellow and too bright and too flicker-y all at once but he couldn't find it in himself to leave your side.

He couldn't summon a single word, he'd cried at least three times when you were away for a few moments or weren't listening and annoyingly his nose still hadn't cleared up from the last time he cried, you were like a sedative. You made him feel deliciously tired, and he felt distantly irritated he couldn't just tell you.

You spat and rinsed the sink down and he took comfort in the predictable way you wiped your hands on your shirt instead of the hand towel. Unpredictably, you hoisted yourself onto the counter as well, sitting on the other side of the sink to him with your feet in the still-wet basin.

A small smile found its way onto his face as he watched the way your face scrunched at the feeling but didn't move to take them out. You leaned on your knees, hunched forwards at him with firm eyes locked on him.

"I want to know what's wrong, I want to help. Please tell me?" You asked bluntly and Chigiri could appreciate the no-nonsense approach after a long day. It had been hours since he last spoke, since he started following you around aimlessly, he supposed he should just bite and push through the fog of sleepiness to at least make sure you know he's alright...

But still, it was just a small thing... a missed goal in practice wasn't really something worth crying over and well, he didn't want to look silly in front of you. It was such a disproportionate response, it made him feel embarrassed. How was he supposed to say anything?

"It wasn't much, really, I'm just being emotional." Was what he said, but really he meant something quite different. It was a quiet beg for you not to see him in a light he was ashamed of.

It's always been like that, he'd always been too much, too emotional, too angry, sad or happy. He doesn't want to seem like too much and he doesn't want you to probe any further because he could never really lie to you, and when you would ask the right questions he would inevitably end up with his whole heart bared to you, he loved you. If you rejected him like that, god only knows what he would do.

"And? I think it's still worth talking about if it's making you this sad..." You mumbled, a cheek smushed by that hand it leaned on. You were so cute in every moment you shared with him, but the quiet, small ones like this made you look heavenly. Chigiri's heart skipped a beat, how was he ever meant to admit something so embarrassing to you?

"No, I'm just making it out to be worse than it was."

"So what? It means nothing?"

"No- it... just makes me look stupid..." He could admit that much at least. You'd been dating for a while now, he really loved you so there was really only so much he could dodge. Sometimes being around you felt like a very dangerous game though, one slip up and his biggest flaw would be waved in your face immediately.

"I don't care if it's stupid, 'Ouma, what I care about is you." It's like you want to make him cry again. He huffs and looks away from your eyes.

"Missed a goal..." Chigiri mumbled, staring intently at the shampoo bottles lined up on the shower shelves. He was loathe to look at your face and see what expression you were making. "It's stupid, I know..."

He sighs and wipes at his eyes, "I just feel too much."

You don't say anything but he can hear you hop down from the counter, watching as you slowly adjust yourself and your wet feet on the tiled bathroom floor so you don't slip. Chigiri unfurled, if you were leaving he was going to follow you regardless, he just wanted to be near you.

To his surprise you walked over to him, crossing the few steps between you as he looked up at you and meeting your eyes again. Your expression wasn't mocking like he'd expected to find, instead a gentle smile graced your face and he couldn't help but feel quiet again.

You slotted yourself between his legs, one hand drifting over his right knee. "I don't think it's stupid to be sad about that, and I don't think it's bad to feel too much."

"Huh?" He uttered almost silently, more out of a need for a response than confusion, but no matter how long he had loved you the way you got so close never failed to turn his brain to mush.

"You love football so obviously you're going to feel bad when you don't live up to your own expectations, doesn't mean you're doing bad though." Your other hand comes up to delicately swept some hair from his face and tucked behind his ear. If someone told Chigiri that small constellations were left on whatever you touched, the way you handled him so sweetly would only make him inclined to agree with them wholeheartedly. His eyes watched as yours, sparkling in the shitty bathroom lighting, traced the movement . "I... don't mind the way you feel so much? No... I think I love you all the more for it, it's part of you and I love you, all of you."

"Isn't it hard to deal with me though?" His deepest anxieties spoke for him in that moment, taking the risk his conscious self never would have and he'd want to cram the words back down his throat if it wasn't for the fact you had so much love for him in your eyes.

"No, even if your emotions were really that strong it still wouldn't matter."

"It wouldn't?"

"No."

"...Why?"

"Because I love you." The world outside of the bathroom ceased to exist to Chigiri, to be more specific, the world outside of you ceased to exist to him. It didn't matter, none of it mattered, what mattered was that you were here and you loved him even though he wasn't perfect. You loved him even though he'd revealed his biggest weakness to you. It left him as speechless as he was before.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then ritualistically kissed each of his eyelids. You giggled when he closed each eyelid as you went to lightly kiss it, he had such a cute smile when you messed around with each other. You kissed both of his cheeks and the tip of his nose before you finally sweetly kissed him on the lips.

His eyes closed and he chased you as you pulled away, blushing terrifically. Chigiri opened his eyes and stared at you through his thick lashes, you didn't speak and neither did he, but in the bathroom under the awful lighting you looked so soft and he couldn't help but let his eyes meander over your face. He loved you and he would never get enough or reach any sort of peak of loving you that he could ever come down from.

"I love you too." He said with wobbly lips. Oh you really were going to make him cry again, you loved him so much and he loved you and he would never stop crying about it. You pulled him into a hug that he returned gladly, burying his face into your shoulder, you swayed back and forth and he gave himself to following you move.

"Wanna go to bed now?" You whispered into the hair on his temple.

"Mhm."

yay another post!! (sorry I neglect this account) and no I'm not projecting what are you talking about..... definitely not....

[slexenskee]

You might have already mentioned it, but what songs did Gojo sing as a kid with that band, the Band Aides? Cause I'm really curious what teen Gojo screamed into the microphone and what people thought of this crazy punk kid with super great music. Also, will the Scrub fans ever unearth a video someone probably took of little Gojo coasting around random alt-rock venues? Cause that would be hilarious.

We're actually going to get into it in future chapters!! 😁

He 100% plays Mr Brightside and basically he starts getting into the whole plagiarizing music thing by realizing that a lot of the bands he loved are either a) entirely missing from the timeline or b) missing some of his favorite songs from them and sets out to fix that.

The full backstory:

I don't really get into Band Aides much, but basically it was a garage band put together by Satoru, this high school first year, and his college freshman brother, and idk, maybe one other person haven't figured it out yet. But they play in the brothers' garage and their dad was in a band back in the states which is why he has all this random old equipment in his garage and also an undying love for classic rock music.

So they start out playing a lot of songs that Satoru does know - famous stuff from like before 1990 basically - and at first he's just jamming and having a good time actually realizing that he likes playing all the music he used to listen to in his last life, and just figuring out how music even works. The dad is super helpful in this since he was a musician in a band himself and can at least teach Satoru the basics of guitar, sound engineering, and all the technical stuff. They're still not great or anything, being a bunch of kids and all, and Satoru himself is still going from 0 to 100 learning about instruments and music theory.

Anyway, then he hears an 'album' from The Killers, realizes they only put out one album in this world and it was not Hot Fuss, and immediately sets out to try to re-create Mr Brightside for his band to play.

Because of the way this happens > him 'learning' about bands and music, then coming immediately after with songs resembling the bands he'd just listened to, it feels really organic to his band and the people who knew him at the time. Like yeah of course he made a song that sounds like The Killers after listening to their album, that's literally how all music is made. You get influenced and inspired by something and then create your own version. It's just in this instance, Satoru wasn't 'creating his own version' he was literally adding to their originally discography.

Eventually he stops playing songs that come from bands with missing discography and starts playing songs from ones that he realizes don't exist at all, but there's still enough of a trajectory that it still seems 'plausible'.

So, tbh, people who don't 'know' music think he's just a cool punk who makes epic songs. People who do know all those old genres and bands are like 'damn this kid has great taste' and also thinks he makes epic songs that really pay homage to that era.

I'm kinda torn on what The Band Aides would play on open mic nights actually.

Realistically they would mostly play cover songs bc even if Satoru wanted to be getting them to play 'his' songs, he wouldn't be at a point where he could properly articulate what he wanted it to even sound like. But I also want to sneak a bunch of Blink-182 songs into their tracks haha. And probably All Time Low too? All American Rejects??

Honestly they can play whatever you want them too, since I probably won't get into it beyond Mr Brightside! And yeah that would be so fun to have clips of lil' baby Satoru rocking out at like a talent show or something lmao

[sphaxcca]

My Candy Love New Gen Ep. 3 Review

Okaaaaaay so since this is my first post on here: Hi there! guess who's gonna give her unasked opinion about her Playthrough of My Candy Love New Gen? ME! ofc.

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT...

So i've finished playing the episode and honestly i'm starting to wonder how the plot is gonna develop during the story.

Until now ce can't really say that the story is growing but, I mean, it's completely fine because these are the first episode so it's pretty normal that there's basically nothing but just a presentation of the character and a little peak of their routes.

The episode was pretty chill and cute for some point of view, but my only doubt is about the speed of the storytelling, i really hope that with new episode the story's gonna grow in speed or in lenght of episodes because, for how is it now, it's gonna take forever to make a real "change" in the plot (especially for Jason's route candies like me) The idea of the welcome party was EXTREMELY cute also the "preparation" part was okay;

Amanda not partecipating at the party because Candy didn't choose the park had me turn up my nose honestly, but by the way she reacted the all time, i could have guessed it. She gives me a little bit of snooty vibes but i guess it's just the shell of the character.

ELENDA. oh my ELENDA. I hope with my whole heart that she's gonna be the new Rosalya because i need it. I genueine need a ray of sunshine like her in my candy's life when she's gonna sleep with the rival agency's boss :PPPPPP (The truth or dare part XD had me DEAD, i mean come on guys, you're almost 30 and you need a TRUTH or DARE game to break the ice? LMAO. )

NOW LET'S TALK ABOUT THE CHARACTERS.

ROY. Can someone explain to me? Please don't tell me that the dare that he should have done was to kiss Candy and, because is dating Brune, he turned candy's head to kiss her on the check. Please don't tell me or imma GASP. At first i thought he was going to be the gym bro not interested in any dating or in date many girls at the same time, BUT THIS. BRUH unexpected. So i guess Candy in thi s case have to be Eric 2.0 of new gen. Love it. Let's sleep with another taken man!

DEVON. So I Honestly don't know what to say about him for now because i can't really say what's gonna be the issue with him. I Just really hope is not gonna be like Hyun route ( a full of nothing) because the character seems really cute, so please beemoov give us some tea or a plot twist. Something that happened in the episode that made me actually turn my head the screen was Candy saying (if you go to him at the Mall) "It seems that he doesn't want to be the Ceo" Maybe this is going to be the route?

THOMAS. I honestly love him and i feel like his entire route is gonna be Candy tries to make him understand what is to date someone. I also have a feeling (which would make totally sense) that Thomas is either authistic or he's part of that percentual of the populations that has an IQ higher that the others. L O V E I T TBH and it's a shame that i hvae to play two time the episodes because the outfit it's not the same for jason's route.

AMANDA Snooty on the outside but a marshmallow on the inside, i'm so sure of this. My guess here is that, girl's rich ass didn't say anything to her family that she likes girls. I just really hope is not the sme thing that happened with Priya because players dont wanna play things two times.

JASON. At last but not least, the enemies to lovers we didn't know we needed. what can I say? I have a huge love for Men who are so incure of themselfs that they put up this gigantic EGO (and not Confidence) to try to hide their real self. This going to be and Astarion (Bg3) route 2.0, I'M HERE FOR IT. Btw i'm pretty sure he seduced Danica to make her leave Devenementiel, this B, love him. At least he's not taken Candies....

what do you think? <3

-Sph