#just waiting on tomorrow for DISCOUNTED CANDY!!

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 3 - Ignihyde]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

**Need to go to bed for work tomorrow so Diasomnia will be on my next day off. Can't stay up long enough to squeeze it in**

If there was one thing Idia hated, it was going out in public. He hated how the sun burned his eyes, all the bugs flying around, the way people looked at his hair, and almost had a heart attack at the idea that he'd have to talk to people.

Major bummer. 0/10, don't recommend.

But he'd suck it up and soldier on because the call of sweets was too tempting to resist. The trek to Sam's isn't the longest from Ignihyde but it's enough to make him pace himself.

Yeah, he's not really an outside person. Or a physical activity person outside of dancing to Premo or working on his projects.

He briefly wonders if Ortho put Sam up to this as he finds his second wind and ascends the hill. Who has a bomb sweets sale and DOESN'T ALLOW ONLINE PURCHASES?! WHY WERE THE DISCOUNTS IN-PERSON ONLY?

Idia breaths a sigh of relief and fixes his hoodie before mustering up his courage and opening the door. He's throwing himself into the proverbial lion's den, into an introvert's worst nightmare!

The noise and people are almost too much but he distracts himself with all the pink and red. Mercifully, the candy is spread out around the store so he doesn't have to stay in the sea of people. Idia doesn't discriminate when it comes to sweets; he gets soft cake rolls, pixie sticks, little donuts, a few chocolate bars, and a couple of limited edition dessert drinks. He's secretly glad Sam's regular stock didn't take a hit because of the holiday; his snack stash needs replenishing. Packs of ramen and little things of convenience bury his sweets stash but he's careful not to crush anything.

He can almost hear Ortho nagging him to get something green or slightly healthy. If he doesn't, Ortho will be mad at him for a week. It becomes a battle of wits between the Shroud brothers and Ortho is the king of juvenile inconveniences. Idia has learned the hard way; Ortho resets his alarms, throttles his wi-fi, messes with his lights, takes apart his tablet or takes it off charge in the middle of the night, and just about anything else he can think of.

Idia begrudgingly puts some green smoothies in his basket. Along with some pudding cups.

Satisfied with his raid, he waits in line. He's chanting to himself the whole time: just walk, don't make eye contact! Just walk, don't make eye contact! The line stalls enough for someone to bump into him and he panics, stumbling forward into the person in front of him. His hair flickers and flares a little in his panic.

People give him space and he babbles a quick apology. He pulls his hoodie up over his hair but it doesn't hide everything. It makes him feel safe, though. He relaxes a little.

Then, he hears it.

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

Oof. MAXIMUM cringe. NO ONE on campus has a charisma stat high enough to make THAT work! Except Kingscholar and Schoenheit, maybe.

It gets worse when he realizes someone said that TO YOU.

OH NO! HE HAS COMPETITION!

The tactic looks like it failed, though, so he's comforted. You wouldn't go for something so cheap and cheesy! This guy looks like a D-level tank AT BEST. You're an SSR easy. D-levels and SSR's don't go together!

He's an SSR when it comes to stealth and technical skill so maybe one day you guys can link up or whatever. Your choice. The tips of his hair turn pink and he blows on the closest strand to mute the color.

The guy is doubling down. "You're rolling a one, pleb. A hard one." Idia whispers to himself.

"You say somethin', Shroud?" the guy turns to him.

FUCK, HE KNOWS HIS NAME?!

Idia's hair roars to life with surprise. He yanks the hoodie down before the fabric singes and crisps. His strands are wild, untamed, and yellow. His instinct is to stutter and deny it, to backtrack, but your eyes are just shy of pleading and it makes him swallow the word soup.

"I-I said you're rolling a hard one. Y-You're failing!" Idia doesn't know if he's going to faint first or if his legs will give out. His heart might go first.

The guy clearly doesn't get the reference. The brain is buffering and the lag is too great. He shakes his head with a sharp, toothy smile, unable to help himself. Dumb normie, Idia gives a breathy chuckle. Idia has that unfortunate condition where his face talks for him and it must've said some shit because the tank is now laser-focused on him.

You're over the counter before he can process anything, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt and telling him to leave. The guy just jerks his shoulders and stays the course. Idia sees you get ripped over the counter and tumble to the floor. You recover decently and grab the closest thing to you but something about the sound of your body hitting the floor sends him into a rage he'd only felt in online arguments.

It feels like his veins are burning. He can tell by the size of his shadow and the light dancing across the floor that his hair is long and ferociously orange. Raging orange. Lethal orange.

"Caution," Idia manages somehow through his rage. "C-Contents are hot." he knows he has to stay put. If he approaches the guy he will LITERALLY catch on fire. It's not a bad idea, and he can see the gears spinning in the guy's head. He's wondering if Idia's going to do it or if he has enough time to hit the door.

The guy chooses the door.

It takes several minutes for Idia to calm down. His hair seems to shrink as he deflates into his usual quiet mannerisms. It's shorter than normal! "Used up all my fuel," Idia complains as he drags himself to the counter. "Need calories." he melts pitifully into the counter.

"You need to buy what you burned, too." Sam points to the singed chips and snacks. He already has a few packs that are beyond saving in his arms. Idia realizes the shop is basically empty now and finds the energy to blush. Pink cheeks look really cute against his blue hair!

"Does this mean I'm done for the day?"

"Yes." Sam looks at you. He's not mad or disappointed, but he means you're done. "I think you're a bit of a fire hazard." he teases.

You both blush.

None of this was in his decision tree! WHAT DOES HE DO?

"You, uh, you want to come by Ignihyde and, um, watch some stuff? You don't have to if you don't want to, of course. I just, you know, since it was my fault and all--"

"Is that a nat twenty in the wild? I think I have to now!" you joke.

"You get that?" Idia's mouth hangs open in surprise.

"It might have different names but I think it's the same thing in my world." you shrug. He's so down to discuss games from another dimension!

A nat twenty indeed!

----

Ortho was doing his best to fill the gaps with whatever Sam's shop had to offer. Idia's grocery order was a little delayed due to the Valentine's holiday so he needed something decent to tide him over. Determined to keep his brother from an early, sodium-induced death, Ortho took it upon himself to shop. He wasn't totally heartless, though, so he'd throw in a few bags of chips to make Idia feel better.

A lot of this chocolate was out of the question! The sugar was through the roof! Then again, Idia was hopelessly addicted to sweets. He's pretty sure his brother broke some kind of record for sugar tolerance.

Equipped with Vil's suggestions and the things he researched, Ortho started hunting for healthy foods. He filled the basket with smoothies, yogurts, dark chocolate, fruit, and protein bars. There should be enough texture and flavor variation there to make Idia happy. Well...relatively.

Ortho floated patiently in line, subtly recording the conversations around him for later playback. Organic human interaction was interesting and would help him improve his algorithms and processes.

It's not like it hurt anything! All of the conversations were innocent and--

WAS SOMEONE TRYING TO MAKE A MOVE ON HIS FRIEND? HIS BESTEST, MOST PRECIOUS FRIEND?! ONLY HIS BIG BROTHER CAN DO THAT!

You may not totally get that he's a techno-organic construct (and not a boy who just really loves pretending to be a robot) but HE GETS that YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE AND THAT'S NOT OKAY!

"Excuse me, pardon me," Ortho weaves carefully through the people, playing a little 'wee-woo' alarm through his speaker system.

He floats beside the guy, staring at him with those big gold eyes. Pinching his thumb and pointer finger together turns up the alarm.

The guy is ignoring the alarms! How ridiculous! Is this what Idia means by natural selection and survival of the fittest?

A red light pops out of his shoulder, spinning in place.

HE'S IGNORING THAT, TOO?!

"You're being interrupted!" Ortho glares at him now, tuft of blue hair dancing angrily. "This conversation is clearly inappropriate for the setting and is henceforth terminated!"

"Terminated? Big words for a little boy! Go away, big people are talking!" the guy tries to shoo him away.

"Don't be rude to him!" you snap, "And he's right! The conversation is terminated!"

"Terminated!" Ortho echoes, pumping his fist. "Terminated!" he repeats, laughing when some of the people in line begin to join in and chant 'terminated, terminated!'

The guy leaves without buying anything and Ortho is happy to take his place. He pays for the the snacks. "And here's a sticker for you for being so sweet!" you put a sticker on the back of his hand. It's a heart wearing sunglasses.

Ortho laughs despite himself. One day he'll get Idia to explain it to you in a way you understand. He's surprised nothing like him exists in your world but he's glad to be here with you in Twisted Wonderland.

[sleepynoons]

nagumo yoichi x gn!reader, sfw, not beta read

cw: slight suggestive content, explicit language

notes: wait if you catch several typos/grammar mistakes, that's not on me, that's on ellipsus for constantly glitching out today and preventing me from making edits. this is a drabble, too, and i don't proofread those oops. anyway, i thought it'd be funny if nagumo also got into a relationship the same way sakamoto and aoi got together. i also think it's hilarious that the npcs in this series don't give a fuck lol. nagumo also comes off as weird af at first LMAO wait this was kinda meant to satisfy my belief that nagumo has a sleeper build iykwim - wait i'm realizing there are several references + tidbits in this piece so it'd be funny if y'all catch anything hehe

"WELCOME!"

greeting customers is arguably the least rewarding thing about your job. most people who walk in ignore you, some even look annoyed, and you hate public speaking in the first place. you think you lose five minutes of your life every single time you raise your voice, and those five minutes have probably accumulated to years by now.

you sigh. it can't be helped. another part-timer recently quit, and you can't possibly let the manager of this convenience store, an elderly man in his 60s, take on additional night shifts when he's already handling the early mornings.

besides, there are some pros. since the store is located near a university and a residential area, there are familiar faces. there's a group of computer science students that often drop by, and they play the occasional harmless prank on you. there's also that mother-daughter pair that buys frozen taiyakis every saturday as a reward for the daughter for finishing her weekly violin lesson. and perhaps the most intriguing of them all is a man that pops by every three days around midnight.

he wears the same tan trench coat, along with a loose patterned button-up and black pants. before winter set in, he always went straight to the freezer to fish out a popsicle, bar already in his mouth as he walked over to pay, but in the past two weeks, he's been opting for a cup of hot coffee and small packets of candy instead.

it seems he's craving sour gummies today. with a swift swipe of your arm, you grab and scan the barcode on the back of the plastic bag, and type in the amount for his drink.

"your total's ¥600."

"no discounts for your most loyal customer?"

startled, you freeze, determined to avoid eye contact. you've had conversations with other customers before, but never with him. he's always left as quickly as he came, so you're caught off-guard by this unexpected interaction.

"u-uh, not this time, sorry. i can ask the manager if we have a loyalty program, if you want."

the man hums as he nods happily and hands you two ¥500 coins. his unbothered smile unnerves you a bit, so you count the difference and return the loose change in personal record time.

but he doesn't leave, and instead, asks, "any thoughts on getting hitched?"

your spit-take's almost comical, but the absurdity of the situation takes precedent. "w-what now?"

"one of my co-workers recently got married to a convenience store worker, so i'd thought i'd give it a try, too!"

you're practically shaking from how anxious and overwhelmed this person's making you feel. it doesn't help that he's clearly not disturbed at all, which almost makes you doubt your own ethics and gut instincts. but, the more you think about it, the more you're sure there's something wrong with this man and not you.

"i-i, uh, well, i'm not interested in-in getting married right now."

"oh, that's a shame! guess i'll try again tomorrow!”

–

you wake up with a jolt, almost knocking the crown of your head into nagumo's chin. though, of course, there's no actual need to worry about that.

"hm, what's wrong?"

with a workbook on bayesian statistics in one hand, a pen resting on his ear, and his other arm folded behind his head, he looks down at you curiously. despite having just woken up, your head's never been clearer, and you sit up between his legs before looking behind your shoulder and shooting a glare at him.

you ask, "can i punch your face?"

nagumo laughs, probably already imagining your futile attempts. "sure! but can i ask why?"

"i dreamt about our first conversation, and it reminded me that you're kinda fucked up."

your boyfriend chuckles more, amused by your moral qualms. "you could say that."

the thought that your relationship is weird has never left you. you're (still) a simple convenience store cashier, and nagumo gets filthy rich by murdering people. you were never that interested in the world around you, having been too busy paying back student loans and applying to other jobs throughout your early adolescent years to care about other things, so when he told you about the JAA and the establishment of the assassin industry as a whole, you were shocked. but that's always as far down into the rabbit hole as you let yourself go.

from this view, with nagumo spread out before you, he doesn't look dangerous at all. if anything, he resembles a nerdy graduate student, thanks to his obvious passions for mathematics and reading. moreover, his short-sleeved t-shirt exposes his tattoo-riddled arms, and the bottom of it has ridden up, giving you a pleasurable view of his hip bones and happy trail. in fact, when the two of you got into bed together for the first time (don't ask how he succeeded in seducing you), you were surprised by his physique. his outside clothes certainly don't do his abs or biceps justice.

anyway, the point is, he looks like your fantasy of a dreamy, hot, geeky boyfriend, not your local professional hitman-for-hire.

you sigh. you're not going to punch his stupidly attractive face. you lie back down onto his chest, burrowing your nose into the crook of his neck. you do let yourself get away with a pinch to his cheek.

then, you mutter, "don't hurt me."

"i won't," he chirps.

nagumo presses the knuckles of his free hand into the knots around your shoulder blades and flips his book back open.

he knows you mean more than in the literal sense.

[bad268]

hii, can i request a pedri fic? pedri always sleeps early and reader is a night owl, one night he tries to stay up late with her but hes really tired and miserable (possibly on the verge of tears) and the reader js takes care of him

The Early Bird & The Night Owl (Pedri X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/FCB

Requested: Clearly (may or may not have written this at 2 AM...)

Warnings: sleep meds (1 time)

POV: Third Person (She/her) (No Y/n)

W.C. 1405

Summary: Her schedule is crazy, and Pedri just wants some of her time.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“She’s a student, of course, she was a night owl,” is what Pedri always told himself. However, with his training schedule and games, he had to be up early almost every morning. Most of the time, he was getting up just as she was going to sleep or right around the same time. It’s not like she slept the entire day away. They had late afternoons together and evenings, but Pedri usually was in bed by 9 PM. That’s when she would start her assignments.

It was hard. Working on a master’s degree while working in an overseas company was difficult, and she had to alter her sleep schedule to keep up with her studies and her job.

Pedri understood. No matter how many times he told her to quit her job and that could help her financially until she finished her degree, she always said no. She wanted to work with this company after graduating, so quitting just to reapply in a year or so is not worth it. Plus, it took her almost a year to get the job in the first place! She did not want to give up the progress she already made.

Pedri understood that too! He had to work extremely hard to get his place in FC Barcelona, and he would never discount the effort he’s seen her put in. It was her dream company, and he knew that once she moved up, she would have a better schedule. He selfishly preferred it to semi-align with his own, but he would have to wait and see. That’s the joy of working for an overseas company!

At the end of every quarter, her company gave everyone a weekend off, so she was able to attend Pedri’s match for once. He did not know until she took a melatonin candy right after dinner. 

“What’s that for?” Pedri asked when he saw her grab one of the candies while he was putting the leftovers away. 

“I need to wake up early tomorrow if I’m going to go with you to your match,” she said as if it were obvious as she ate the candy. When Pedri did not respond, she turned to see him frozen in front of the refrigerator. She giggled as she moved to close the refrigerator door and said, “Not expecting that?”

“Not exactly,” He muttered as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hid his face in your neck. “You’re wearing my kit, right?”

“What else would I wear?”

~~

The next day, they woke up bright and early. It was weird for her to be waking up as the sun was coming up, but she knew she would have to pull an all-nighter tonight or tomorrow to get back on her schedule before Monday. That was a problem for the future. She was going to cherish the normal day she could have with Pedri before having to go back to her normal. 

They made it to the stadium just in time for them to start warming up for the match. She stayed down on the sidelines, and to say some of the players were surprised to see her would be an understatement. Gavi was the most excited to see her mainly because he hung out with Pedri the most off the field and by extension, her. 

As soon as Gavi saw her walk in with Pedri, he ran at her full speed and accidentally knocked her over in the process.

“Oi, get off me, Gavi!” She yelled as she pushed him to roll off her chest. “I get it! It’s been a while, but I did not expect to be attacked!”

“I can’t help it! It’s been forever!” Gavi defended himself as he helped her stand back up. “No work for once?”

“Nope,” She said as they caught up with Pedri on the field. He was busy kicking a few practice goals as a warmup, so she found a spot off to the side to stay out of everyone’s way. “I got the weekend off, so I woke up early to watch my guys chase a ball up and down a field for 90 minutes.”

“The best 90 minutes of your weekend, I bet,” He laughed before being called onto the field. 

She stood off to the side for their entire warmup, taking pictures of her boyfriend (as one does) to post later (or keep to herself, she doesn't know yet). She watched Pedri play against Gavi in a couple of practice defenses. One time when he got the ball, he sliced it left and immediately covered his face, laughing as Gavi teased him.

Then it was time for the game.

It seemed like they had more of a reason to win. Maybe it was because they knew she was there, but they would never admit that. They ended up winning the game 3-0, and Pedri scored the first one. They always had a promise that if Pedri scored the first goal of the game, she would buy the first round of drinks. Sure, he was never happy about it being the gentleman he is, but a bet’s a bet. He’ll take a free drink even if it means he’ll give it back to her one way or another. 

They went out to dinner with the rest of the team, and true to her word, she bought the first round. Everyone had more than come around to expecting it sometimes, but only Gavi knew when it actually happened. He was there when they made the bet. 

The boys had practice the next day because they were working towards the World Cup, so they knew they could not stay out too late. Not to mention they are all pretty early birds, so they were clearing out of the bar by 8. 

By the time they got home, she was thriving. She naturally got a boost of energy when the sun went down, and even though she did not sleep in as much as normal, she felt wide awake. Even after Pedri got out of the shower closer to 9:30, she was wide awake. She was blasting through a paper, waiting for Pedri to emerge from the bathroom, and when he did, he collapsed in her lap. 

She moved her laptop to the side and moved her attention to her boyfriend on her lap. She ran her hands through his wet hair before running across his shoulders, scratching her nails down his back.

“Stop,” He whined. “If you don’t, I’ll fall asleep.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” She chuckled lightly.

“No, I never get to see you anymore,” He complained as he flipped over to face up at her. That’s when she noticed the tears that filled his eyes. Suddenly, she felt so selfish for putting her schooling and work before him. “Our schedules clash so much, I feel like I never get to hang out with you.”

“Pedri, why haven’t you told me this before?” She asked concerned. She moved her hands from his shoulder to hold his face in her hands as she wiped some of the fallen tears. “I would have figured something out if it was getting that bad, but you need to tell me. I can’t know if it’s too much if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s selfish to ask you to stop your education and working your dream job,” He sighed as he looked anywhere but her. However, she was still holding his face, so she brought his face to meet hers as she leaned down. “I don’t want to be that unsupportive boyfriend.”

“You are the most supportive boyfriend for going through all of this pain for my happiness,” She replied as she started tearing up a little bit as well. “I will always take a break if it means you feel better. How about I take all of next week off? We can do whatever we want since you don’t have a match. I bet I could bribe Xavi to give you at least a day off from training.”

“I would love that,” he sighed happily as he closed his eyes and leaned deeper into her lap as if a weight was lifted off of him. “I would really love that.”

“Good,” She whispered as she leaned down to kiss his lips. “Now, get up here. I think it’s time we fall asleep together for the second night in a row.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[00sgoth]

there's a flicker of something akin to annoyance that crosses his features with furrowed brows when the lollipop is snatched from between his fingers —— and much like her own grievances... she's lucky she's cute. but the amusement is equally as quick to return at her retort, his own eyeroll ensuing and matching hers with some sort of snorted laugh. no, he's not concerned about the loss of candy... there's a whole bowl more where that came from. ( not to mention discounts at the store starting tomorrow. ) he'll let her have his spit. no matter how much the loss of sweetness on his tongue was already missed.

❛❛ yeah, well, sometimes it doesn't load fast enough and i dunno about you, but i'm impatient. ❜❜ it's said conclusively —— like a man with war stories about having to wait for a video to stop buffering... or a picture of a pair of tits to fully load. and don't even get him started about trying to download chocolate starfish and the hot dog flavored water. ( it took two whole days ! )

he begins dumping the movies back into a bin to be put away... but that might just be a problem for whoever opens in the morning. ❛❛ what're you thinking then, miss i have great taste? 'cause stock is pretty fuckin' low on a lot of shit. ❜❜

he really is so lucky he's cute, or she'd — well, realistically, she knows she wouldn't do anything but damn! a girl can still think about it, right? besides, he can't possibly think he's fooling anyone with that threat, and knowing that? it really does take the wind right out of her sails (keeps the wind from ever even reaching the sails, if she's being real). there's something so satisfying about knowing she could probably get him to sit through just the worst fucking movie. sure, she'd have to listen to him bitch about it, but that's kind of a fair trade.

"you're dramatic; i have great taste," and it doesn't matter that some of those movies are rom coms! they're cute. you can't shame her!

soraya's rolling her eyes at him, watching as he starts gesturing with that lollipop and — a hand snaps out, plucks it from his fingers. hers now! "i have an internet connection and you think i'm gonna rent porn?" she pops the sucker into her mouth, lifts her eyebrows at him as if that will emphasize her point. "not a chance."

[nekofantasia]

“I wonder if I’m popular enough to get tons of treats.”

[pbandjesse]

Today was a really good day. I'm a little tired but not as bad as I have been the last few days. The most thing I'm annoyed about is that my eyeliner won't stop melting. I got a new one and it's supposed to be the exact same as the one I always use but for some reason it is melting all over my eyelids. Which is very uncomfortable. But besides that it was great.

I slept okay last night. Waking up was a little hard but not as bad as it has been. I got dressed and I love my outfit. I was a little unsure about weather because it seemed chilly outside but it was supposed to go up to almost 80°. And it was going to rain but not for the whole day. But the outfit I ended up with I felt very cute. Specifically because I was going to match my table and that was very important to me.

James stopped to get us breakfast. For the second day in a row they asked for our order then went away for a minute and a second person came back and asked for our order again. Very bizarre. And then we went to the museum. James helped me bring some stuff over and it didn't take very long to set up my table because I had done all the planning beforehand. And I was thrilled with how it looked. First thing before I even said anything up though I went and gave Ann a hug and told her how great her hair looks all grown out and curly. So cute. And then I was helping some people with their tents and it was drizzling a little bit but it wasn't too bad. I was really excited to share with everyone my new products and my new branding strategy and all of the things that I learned and did. And just telling people about our honeymoon. That was really exciting to get to share that with everyone.

Some people didn't show up that were supposed to and that was very annoying. The parking lot was full and I'm not going to call out anyone but a particular vendor that was asked to be there, paid to be there, was very rude. We were having some problems with electricity and we were trying to figure out how to get their spot power because they needed it for the thing that they were doing and all of a sudden the person running the stall came over and said that waiting any longer was unacceptable. And it's just like dude they're trying to figure it out and he kept asking well what are you doing. And I'm just like calm down. It was fine. He was pretty obnoxious and I hope that they don't have them come back late while the guests loved it I was not a fan.

That's actually the second time I've been in a market with them and they work very nice to me either when I talk to them then. Just as like hey we are both artists working here. But whatever. Some people just have bad people skills but are good with kids I have met many of those over my years of working.

I had a great morning though. I had the same anxiety and feelings that I always have at the market that I'm not going to make any sales and I failed as an artist and I'm wasting everyone's time and everyone's mad at me. But it was only 9:10 when I had sold anything it was having these feelings so I knew I was being silly. I brought some stuff to work on. I'm finishing up my knit piece and sewing down all those edges and I brought a whole bunch of bears that I had cut out that I wanted to finish. And I was very proud of myself that I did buy 1:00 finish all the bears that I had brought. And it was like down to the wire with the one. But I got them all done and I'm very happy.

And I did make sales. Stickers were very popular and I'm really excited about that because I would love to order more of the styles I've designed. I ended up selling almost 15 stickers and four stuffed animals and a few keychains. Everyone also really loved my free candy that I brought. And only one person tried my gumball machine for a discount but it was fun to experiment with it. I think it will work better when I have more of the wooden marble I'm hoping to stop at the dollar store tomorrow and see if they have them. If not I will continue to look.

I did have some really nice conversations with people and just enjoyed people watching. We had a lot of returners. I have a lot of repeat customers from last year. A few families who own multiples of my bears and frogs. And just people saying nice things about my work which always feels good. But there was also a lot of brand new people who have never seen before. And a couple new vendors so that was exciting. I also just loved talking to the people I've known for a long time now. Like Ginny and Helen. And it was just a good day.

I had gone inside because I was short some of the birth certificates for my bears and James printed them for me. And they told me they were going to get a quesadilla from lunch from the next Mexican ladies. But by 11:30 I realized they still had not come outside and I didn't want them to miss lunch so I went and ordered us quesadillas and they were so good. A little pricey but honestly my mouth is watering just thinking about them. Though I was a little sad that my teeth on my left side hurt and I don't know why because they're all crowns. They should not hurt. But one of them seems to be exposing the metal and I don't know what that means or what I should do about it. Like the porcelain has come off of it. I think that their porcelain over metal but I'm not entirely sure how they are made.

I brought James there quesadilla and they seemed very excited. And I went outside and finished my final hour. And it was great. I had a great conversation with Stanley and Bob. And we talked about Alaska and how beautiful it was and some of my branding this year and how I'm excited to make everything food themed. And I really just felt good. I didn't feel as exhausted. I was still a little out of it but I wasn't as like dizzy tired as I had been.

Cleaning up took an extra couple minutes. I didn't have my wagon with me so I had to make two trips to the car. But it's fine it's not heavy. And then I went inside to say goodbye to James and told Angie I would see her later. And then I went home.

When I got back here I had a snack and watched a video. And got changed into a house dress. I tried to fix my eyeliner to try to figure out why it is melting but I have no idea and it's making my eyelids feel very sticky and dry. I don't know how something can be both sticky and dry. And then I slept for a while.

When I woke up James was home and they came and gave me a hug. And then we had dumplings for dinner. Hung out on the couch. I got dressed in my wedding event nice long dress. Fixed my eyeliner again. And then headed out.

And it was a really fun night I didn't have as many like big exciting conversations as sometimes I do. It was more of a struggle to get people to come back. But the people I did talk to were lovely. They were all like oh my God what's your background why do you know all this. A couple people thought that it was the end of my work day and that I was being held up by them talking to me and I was like no no the couple paid for me to be here. Please ask me questions I would love to share with things with you. And I did have some nice conversations about camp and sharing some information with a couple of people who are teachers about field trips there and the work that I'm doing for the Native American program. And I had a good time. I did do some cleaning of the banister in the machine shop because it was really dirty but it just made it more sticky. Like the finish has been taken off and it was awful. And I don't know how to fix that. It needs like rubbing alcohol or something I think. But I had a really nice night and I sat with Angie for a while and then she said I could go home.

And I'm almost home now. Talk to text is a dream. Because it's very hard for me sometimes to focus on writing my post. But I also don't love doing talk to text with James around. I just feel awkward about it. So I'm glad I can do this before I get home. And I'm hoping tonight to just chill and have a nice time laying around and tomorrow I don't have to work until the evening so I'm hoping to just do some cleaning at the apartment and maybe go to the museum early to roller skate and I have to go to the dollar store up there anyway and maybe I'll go to the thrift store who knows. But I just hope that this trend of me already feeling a little bit better continues and I just have a restful day and I feel good and I feel happy. I hope that you all feel happy as well. Sleep well everybody. Be safe out there. Good night.

[cheemers-writing-archive]

All Tricks, All Treats (Phantom Troupe Non-Reader Insert)

The little house was filled with the sound of a doorbell ringing. The old lady turned her head to the door, and grabbed her bowl of candy. She peered out of the peephole, seeing a young-looking girl, with fair skin, black hair, and a pair of glasses blocking the color of her eyes. She had a vacuum in her hand.

Outside, Shizuku saw the door open as she cheered “Trick or Treat!”

“My, aren’t you a cutie?” the old woman said. “What are you dressed up as?”

However, in the blink of an eye, a playing card lodged itself into her skull, killing her instantly. She fell down to the floor, and Shizuku used her vacuum to suck up the body. From the bushes, Hisoka appeared and started to gather up the candy that spilled from the bowl. Illumi appeared soon after, helping Hisoka out.

“Do you think this would be enough candy to satisfy the needs of your sister?” Hisoka asked.

Illumi shook his head. “I think we would need just a few more bowls if we’re going to satisfy Alluka,” he said, “especially after the wish that was granted last time her power was used.”

Hisoka nodded. “Well, maybe the next neighborhood has some more kind souls giving out candy tonight.”

The three of them found the nearest neighborhood, then continued to knock on doors, kill the people who answered, and take all the candy. However, one of the houses held a specific individual. He had spiky black hair, fair skin, and tiny glasses on.

“Ah, sorry kid.” Leorio put a hand on the back of his neck. “I forgot to turn my porch light off. I don’t have any candy. Well, I’ll have some tomorrow since it’ll all be discounted, but that’s for me.” After he gave his apology, he looked back down at Shizuku. “Wait a minute, I think I remember you from somewhere. I can’t put my finger on it, though…”

“So we meet again, Leorio.” Hisoka showed himself to the man.

Leorio gasped. “Hisoka!”

“And here I thought you were in college. Did you drop out because it was too hard?”

Leorio hmphed. “I just live off campus, that’s all. I won't give up so easily on my dream. And what about you? Why are you hiding beneath the bushes?”

“Well, if you had candy, I would have killed you and taken it.” Hisoka shrugged. “But since you don’t have anything, and we’re in kind of a hurry, I suppose I’ll leave you alone for a little while longer.”

Leorio gulped.

“Well, we should be on our way.” Hisoka got out from the bushes, and Illumi followed suit. “Come on, Shizuku.”

The girl looked back at a dumbfounded Leorio, then left.

“Hey, wait!” Leorio shouted. “Don’t kill people!” After a while, he sighed, closing the door after turning his porch light off. “You know what? Maybe it won’t be such a bad thing. Maybe I’ll get a free 100 for the semester if a classmate of mine dies. I mean, it’ll still be tragic, but I can’t stop Hisoka from doing anything, so I might as well look on the bright side.” After his monologue, he looked back at his blank essay due that night. “Now, then, what am I supposed to do about this?”

[akire-echo]

It’s Simply a Henderson Thing, Season 2 Chapter 2

(Here we go! Another week, another chapter. I’ve been busy rewatching and writing along. Definitely having more fun writing this season)

“Y/N! Check it out!” Dustin jumped from his door, posing in the hallway in his Ghostbusters costume. The ghostbusters overalls were absolutely adorable on him.

You smiled widely at the kid. “Wow Dustin, you look great!”

You remembered taking him to see Ghostbusters in the summer, he and the boys had begged you to go because they needed a chaperone. Your mom thought it would be too scary but after all of you had been through, a movie wasn’t going to freak them out. It hadn’t. The boys had loved it, quoted it all the rest of the summer and for a while afterwards. You thought you’d get annoyed at the constant quotes and re-enactments but it was nice to see them actually having fun again.

“You’re a perfect Stantz!” You praised. “Absolutely perfect.”

He did a turn around. “I even have a proton pack and a ghost trap!”

“That you do. Come on, mom will want to see the completed look before you head to school.”

“You coming trick or treating with us later?”

“I would, kid, but I’ve got a party to head to tonight. But I guarantee to get you some discount Halloween candy tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

He smiled and the both of you headed to the living room where your mom waited with a camera.

“Pictures! Pictures!” She exclaimed. “Y/N? Where is your costumes?”

You raised a brow at her. “Yeah, unless you want me half naked dressed as Ripley, I am good in this.”

She couldn’t say much to that, you were the smart but difficult one while Dustin was the excitable and slightly unruly one.

But she was enthusiastically snapping pictures of Dustin in the next moment, eager to get as much out of the camera film as possible.

He, of course, was loving it.

“Ma, he’s gonna be late.” You chided her.

“Just a few more, Y/N.” The camera went off repeatedly.

“Well, I’m headed off. Later Dusty.”

“Later!” He called after you.

———————————————————————

You adjusted your vest and fake blaster as you got to Tina’s house. The party was in full swing by the time you got there, with rowdy teens in costumes drinking whatever they could get their hands on. You off-handedly wondered if Hawkins high resident drug dealer would be in attendance but shook the thought off.

Making your way through the throngs of already inebriated partygoers, you tried to spot Nancy. You hadn’t seen her all day and were desperate to find out how the dinner went the the night before. She hadn’t even returned your phone call.

Instead of Nancy, however, you found the new kid. The damn new kid who immediately rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey sweetness, who are you supposed to be?” He smirked, clearly already buzzed.

“Take one guess you scruffy looking nerf herder.” You put one hand on your waist.

He looked confused.

“I’m Han Solo.” You sighed.

“Not Leia, Princess?” He asked in reply, rather incredulously too.

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, not really feeling like wearing a white dress and braids. Listen, have you seen Nancy?”

“Nancy?”

“Yeah, she is supposed to be here with Steve.”

“You mean that Steve?” He thumbed over his shoulder.

You followed his motion to see a very angry Steve storming out of the house.

“Shit.” You rushed after him.”Steve! Steve stop-”

“Piss off.” He didn’t even turn to look at you.

“Steve, wait, Jesus Christ!” You caught up to him, tugging on his wrist.

He snapped the grip away.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Why don’t you ask your best friend, she clearly tells you more than me.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Steve, I haven’t even seen Nancy all day. Did something happen with the Holland’s last night?”

“They’re hiring a private investigator and leaving Hawkins.”

“What!?”

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N.” He shook his head and walked away from you.

You were even more confused.

Seeing as how Nancy was probably still in the house, you went back in to try and find her.

The house was still sufficiently packed, so it was rather difficult to move between sweaty dancing bodies and those too inebriated to stand properly.

You did run into Chrissy. She was there with her basketball playing boyfriend, Jason.

She had asked if you wanted to join them but you declined, instead asking her if she’d seen Nancy. Neither of them had so you politely excused yourself, telling them to have fun.

After unsuccessfully trying to find her for half an hour, you decided it would be best to leave. You could’ve stayed, it wasn’t like you didn’t have people to hang out with but you were looking forward to actually spending time with your best friend. Since she was nowhere to be found, you didn’t much feel like sticking around.

You made a stealthy escape, or so you had thought.

The new kid caught you by the door, hand around your forearm.

“Can’t stay away from me, can you?” He smirked, alcohol on his breath.

You groaned internally, not wanting to deal with him at that moment. That’s when you spotted Tommy.

“Find yourself a new best friend here, Tommy boy?” You asked.

The boy sneered. “Billy is cool, unlike some former friends I’ve had.”

“Billy, is it?” You turned back to the guy manhandling you.

“Yeah, and I know you’re Y/N, or do you preferred being called princess?”

You could have gagged. Sure, he was decent looking but his attitude was absolutely abhorrent to you.

“What I would prefer is if you let me go.“

Tommy scoffed a little, coming up to stand by Billy.

“Don’t even bother with her, Billy. No one is good enough for her.”

Billy’s grip tightened on your arm. “See now that just sounds like a challenge.”

You ripped your arm away from him.

“I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt here, seeing as you, one: don't know me, and two: are not quite sober. But I am not interested.” You said as politely as you could.

His smirk faded, instead his jaw clenched. "Told you." Tommy clapped his new friend on the shoulder. "Let's go back inside and find Munson, he's got the good stuff."

Billy said nothing but walked past you into the house.

Seeing your window of opportunity, you got onto your bike and headed out of there, determined to find out what exactly was going on with your best friend.

[kitazura]

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?”

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

[chaeiimimi]

06 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓟𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓬!

Synopsis: Sakusa Kiyoomi, a young ravishing man, an athlete for the Japanese volleyball team and comes from a very prominent family around Japan. He was perfect, looks, wealth and fame. But you can’t have everything in life, can you? Sakusa, the germophobic athlete, suddenly wakes up one day and sees a baby boy in a basket in front of his door step, in the basket was a letter, a letter from his past lover, saying that the child was his. The panic look on the spiker’s face was almost comical, knowing that his life would turn into a complete 360, that day was his first time ever to miss a volleyball practice and to call Komori to ask for a babysitter. You.

Notice: the only thing I own is the plot, the art and the characters aren't mine and they all belong to their respective owners.

Safe to say you didn’t get as much sleep as you hoped that night

“eh?” you were shocked, you didn’t expect him to do it so soon

“yeah, they work from home tomorrow, we should pay them a visit”

“we?” you were flabbergasted, you? You’re meeting the elite and respected Sakusa Family?

“yeah, do you have any problems with that?” yes, a lot

“n-no sir”

So now you left a note on the kitchen counter saying you are going to the market to get some ingredients for the dish you were going to cook for Sakusa’s parents

Since you were young, your parents always taught you that you cannot visit a home empty handed, it was proper courtesy and showed respect and appreciation for having you in their home.

You strolled along the market looking at fresh produce, you opted for seafood, since it’s healthier for older people

A huge salmon caught your eyes and miso-zuke salmon immediately popped in your head, you looked at your watch, it was only five in the morning, you can let it marinate for how many hours and grill it for 30 minutes, which will be enough time to bring it for lunch

You bought it from the vendor who was very kind and even gave you a discount, after that you went to a bakery supplies to get some carrot décor and some ingredients to make icing, you were planning to make a cake less sweet so Sakusa’s parents can eat as well

With that, you head home

You saw Sakusa seating by the coffee table, sipping coffee and reviewing the forms you filled out

“good morning sir” you say as you take the things you bought to the kitchen

“we really don’t need to bring them anything you know” he says as, eyes still not leaving the papers

“I know, but my parents always tell me to not visit anyone’s house empty-handed, it’s a sign of courtesy”

He just nodded and said “suit yourself”

You begin making the marinade, thankfully the fish vendor was kind enough to slice the salmon up for you

About half way through you heard Kaito’s cry and you were about to wipe your hands to get to him when Sakusa stood up

“I got him, continue your work”

You nodded and did exactly that, it took fifteen minutes to make the marinade, you soaked the salmon in it , coverd it, and put in inside the freezer

Sakusa went out with a calm Kaito, he sat in the coffee table , his son carefully cradled in his one arm as his other hand held the forms he hasn’t reviewed yet

Looks like he got the hang of carrying Kaito you said inside your head as you smiled to yourself

You slowly mixed the ingredients together not noticing that Sakusa was now behind you

“what are you doing?” you flinched , surprised by your boss sudden speaking

“I’m making a cake sir” you said holding your chest

It wasn’t clear, heck if you didn’t spend your three months with him you wouldn’t have noticed the small smile grazing his lips

And you regret noticing because you were now flustered

You cleared your throat

“where’s Kaito?” you asked, focusing your attention back to your task

“he’s sleeping” he answered

Your mouth formed into an ‘o’

“is it normal for babies to sleep so much” he asked, his voice genuinely concern

You chuckled  “apparently, it is sir, sleep is actually healthy for baby, aside from them having small stomach and get full easily, their tiredness can also be the cause of a growth spurt or developmental leap” you say in as-a-matter-of-fact tone

He nods as he watches you pour the mixture to a cake mold, which he didn’t even know he had

“does your parents like cake sir?” you asked as you put the dough into the oven

“my mom eats it occasionally, my dad is a sucker for it, we try to make him cut it out for a bit, it’s bad for his health”

You nod, Sakusa has been a bit talkative since your talk last night

“in that case, I’ll make the buttercream frosting less sweet” you say as you washed your hands to prepare to make the frosting

Sakusa watched you as you make the frosting, a lot of thoughts inside his head

“is she doing this to impress my parents?”

“why would she want to impress my parents?”

“does she likes-“

Sakusa shook his head profusely muttering small no’s you were just nice and polite, yea, that’s it

He cleared his throat and went to the coffee table, he finished reviewing the forms you filled out and all of them were perfect, he opened his desktop and began with his work at the company again

The timer went off and it was time to take the cake out of the oven

Kaito was awake and mindlessly babbling in his crib while Sakusa watched replays of some volleyball games

You set the cake on a cooling rack to let it cool down for a while

You decided to clean the house while waiting for the cake to cool down

you wiped some shelves, throw out the trash and vacuumed, by the time you were finished cleaning , the cake was already cool, you begin frosting it, putting crushed nuts at the side of the cake and decorating the top of the cake with candy carrots and some edible decorative leaves, you slowly put it in the fridge

you sighed

“you need to rest” Sakusa says as he gets himself some water

You looked at the time and it was already 10

You shook your head “I just need to grill the salmon sir” and so you did grill the tuna for thirty minutes, gave Kaito a bath for twenty minutes, showered and changed yourself into a simple sundress

By the time you were done packing everything it was already 11:30

You and Sakusa made your way to his car, Kaito was in his baby seat and his father placed him on the back seat, you were about to seat beside Kaito when he cleared his throat

“won’t I look like a personal driver if the both of you sat there?”

You immediately got up and sat at the shotgun seat

The ride was quiet, it was a comfortable silence though, Kaito’s occasional babbles while you were still amazed by the rich neighborhood and Sakusa’s eyes are focused on the road

You arrived at his paren’ts place in fifteen minutes and you could hear the voices of people from afar

You entered the house-no, this was a freaking castle, it was huge, there was a guard, some gardeners and maids

Sakusa parked his car, you got out, he carried Kaito’s baby seat which had a handle while you carried the cake and the salmon-sizu

You walked to the backyard where you saw some children, you recognize some of them as Sakusa’s older siblings’ children, they looked like they were having an outdoor barbecue by their pool-side

Sakusa cleared his throat

They all stopped dead in their tracks eyes wide open

Sakusa glared at them “geez you guys don’t need to act like you saw a ghost”

“well what do you expect you barely visit us here?!” you assumed that it was his brother you spoke

His mother and father looked at you, and you felt very small

“woah and you- you- holy crap your married?!”

And with just one sentence there was a fiasco

“Uncle Kiyoomi is married? We have a new aunt?” a kid who was about nine said and rushed towards new but his sisters were already all up on you

“woah when did you guys get married?”

“when did you meet?”

“what company does your family own?”

“your dress looks so good?”

“do you like chanel?”

You were overwhelmed and couldn’t talk

Your boss sighed “she’s not my wife, she’s my son’s nanny and househelper”

They stopped on their tracks, as you stood there and smiled awkwardly

“but you’re too pretty to be a nanny!”

One of his nieces explained

“you have a son?!” Sakusa’s brother exclaimed

“I know right” Sakusa says nonchalantly

Sakusa was a calm compared to his very lively family

“you impregnated your househelper?” Sakusa’s father asked confused

Your eyes widened and you shook your head profusely

“it’s Nami’s” Sakusa sighed and handed his parents a letter, his brother and two sisters stood beside their parents to read the letter as well

They were dumbfounded when they finished reading, you can’t blame them, you had the same reaction when you first read that letter as well

“what a cruel woman…” Sakusa’s mother says, it seems like she was the first one to recover

Sakusa looked at his son who was looking up at him while sucking on his pacifier

“I don’t need her to raise my son” Sakusa says sternly, his family members looked at him

Sakusa took Kaito in his arms “everyone, this is Sakusa Kaito, my son” he says while Kaito babbles and cracked a toothless smile

There was a moment of silence

When...

 “Oh my lord! what a handsome baby!” Sakusa’s mother gushed and approached Sakusa and took Kaito from him

“holy hell bro he looks just like you!” his brother also says, as he pinch Kaito’s cheeks

“I want him to model for my baby line AAAHHHHH” his sister, which you assumed to be Aiko Sakusa a famous fashion designer

Sakusa Kairo the eldest among the siblings, a pilot and owns an airlines company

Akemi, the third child, a famous architect, she owns an architectural firm

And Sakusa Kiyoomi the youngest, Athlete-Entrepreneur manages a chain of hotels and restaurants

And of course Sakusa Arisa and Sakusa Katashi, the founder of Sakusa Empire

These people are one of the most influential family in japan, yet when you looked at them they look quite normal

Sakusa looked kind of distant, but you could see the softness in his features as he stares at his son being cradled and passed around by his family members

You did notice that his father was emotionlessly staring at the scene

“Kiyoomi you haven’t introduce your “helper” to us yet” Akemi says teasingly

Sakusa shook his head

“this is Y/N she’s Komori’s friend , she helps around my house and takes care of Kaito” he says as stood beside you

The whole family except for Komori’s dad looked at you with almost teary eyes

“thank you for dealing with our ill-mannered kiyoomi” his mother says

“You’re too pretty to be a nanny though, if you ever consider modeling come to me” Aiko says as she held both of your hands

You bowed to them politely “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Kiyoomi is a good boss to me” you said, feeling all stiff and awkward

“chill out Y/N-san we don’t bite” Kairo chuckled

You nodded awkwardly, Sakusa nudged you and pointed at the items you were holding

“oh, we bought you some salmon-sizu and carrot cake, I hope you like it” you said as you showed them the things you bought

“Y/N-chan I love you already” Akemi says as she took the carrot cake from you and led you to the table

 In no time the family were all eating and having fun, you had Kaito in your arms and was feeding him

“Y/n dear, this salmon and cake are so delicious, where did you buy them?”

You quickly realized that your boss’ mother was a sweet lady

“oh, I made them ma’am, my mother is a baker, it’s her recipe, I tweaked it a bit for it to make it less quick, my father is a fish broker, he told me that salmon is a healthy fish to serve” you smiled at her

“Y/N-chan you’re too kind, I hope my brother isn’t being a jerk to you” Aiko says as she eats cake

You chuckled at them

“Y/N-chan, how is our Kiyoomi?” Akemi asked

“Sir Sakusa is doing fine I think, he’s just a bit tired from volleyball and the company, he also makes time for Kaito whenever he can, he’s still a little bit confuse and clumsy”

Kairo, Akemi, Aiko and Mrs. Sakusa nodded together

“Y/N-chan do you like Kiyoomi?” Aiko asked which made you flustered

“I-I- yes-yes b-but- as a boss- I like him as a person-like a boss-“

“geez no need to get flustered now, we were only asking” Kairo said as he chuckled

“we don’t mind if you like him though, we’ll be delighted to have you here” Akemi says and smiled at you

You were now as red as a tomato

After the conversation, you were left with Kaito, he was now wide awake and you were playing with him

Only then did you noticed Sakusa’s father staring at you two

You cleared your throat, you got up, carrying Kaito, you cleaned up the plates near Sakusa’s father

Kaito pointed at his grandfather

You quietly approached the man

“sir, do you want to hold him?”  you asked

He looks up at you, you smiled at him and slowly sat Kaito on his lap

He looks at Kaito emotionlessly, when Kaito smiled at him and babbles “babababa!”

For the first time today, you saw a soft smile made its way to Sakusa’s father’s face

“he looks just like him” the elderly man mumbles

“I can see that sir” you smiled softly at them, slowly taking out your phone and quietly took a picture of the scene, not knowing that some of the eyes of the family were on you

 “she’s a good woman” Sakusa’s mother says to his son

“she is” Kiyoomi says as he stares at you, having a small conversation with his father, it’s very rare for him to communicate or interact with people other than business matters, but he doesn’t seem to have any trouble conversing with you

“do you like her Kiyo?” his mother asks teasingly

“mom, no” Kiyoomi sighs and takes a sip of his lemonade

Although his parents were mostly absent during his childhood, him and his siblings maintained a close relationship with them, and both his mother and father always made time for them on the weekends

A lot of people assumed that they were like the rich family from dramas, the tension and stuff but it was far from that, they were pretty normal, and chaotic at times

 “Your salmon-sizu was very good” your boss’ dad says as you took Kaito from him, the baby has already fallen asleep

“thank you sir, it was my dad’s recipe, he says it’s good for your health” you smiled as you cradled Kaito

He smiled and got up from his seat to join the rest of his family, you laid Kaito on his baby seat and wiped the sweat off his forehead

 The rest of the day were spent with you helping the maids with grilling, but Aiko quickly swooped in and wanted you to join the party, so there you were surrounded by your boss’ nieces and nephews

“you’re not uncle Kiyo’s girlfriend?” Arata, who was around seven years old asked you, he was Kairo’s son

You chuckled and shook your head

“but I want you to be my aunt, aunt y/n” Chizu who was Aiko’s daughter, said with pleading eyes

You just chuckled at them and diverted their attention to something else, you told them stories your parents and sister used to tell you when you were young, their eyes sparkled with fascination, even Mika and Eichi who were both teenagers were interested in your stories as well that they tore their eyes off of their phone screens

Later in the night you guys played uno, you taught them the basics, these kids didn’t know anything about games outside their phones

You couldn’t really relate to the adult’s conversation since they were talking about businesses so you hang out with the kids, and you were loving every moment of it, despite being born from rich families, they were really nice and humble, Eichi was very similar to his grandfather and his Uncle KIyoomi but he was polite nonetheless

It was finally time to leave, the kids were tired and the same to the adults

“come visit us soon aunt y/n” Mira says sleepily she was Akemi’s only child

You smiled at them and waved

“you better come back Y/N-chan we want another one of your carrot cake” Aiko says as you bowed to them

“dear, if ever Kiyo fires you, you are free to apply at our house” says Kiyoomi’s mother says as you leave

Your boss sighs as you finally entered his car

“they really like you” he mumbles

“I guess they do?” you chuckled

“hey y/n, thank you”

You tilt your head in confusion “for what sir?”

“just, thank you”

Taglist: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @seashellmichellee @tetsuhoes @akaashislovelywife  @strawberryzos  @kuroohoeee @underratedmage @popping-cherries @uwu-iwanttodie @wonhyuksstuff @  @knmsapplepi    @stormcastello @si-m-p

[inspirepositivechange]

22 Thoughts on 222 Days of Marriage in the Year 2022

1. When two stubborn people are asked to make big decisions - compromise is definitely key. And we are learning it’s a helluva journey.

2. If your partner asks where something is, 95% of the time it’s somewhere in the vicinity of “right in front of your face”

3. The order of documents to get your name changed is SSN, DL, passport, then everything else under the sun that has your first and last name tied to it - insurance, bank accounts, credit cards, bills, subscriptions, social media, your heading at the top of your assignments, and does this list ever end.

4. If one partner likes to spend money like there’s no tomorrow, it helps to have one that knows how to pinch pennies and say “we don’t need that” in order to save.

5. Speaking of saving, start doing it. Now. Life married or not is expensive. And accidents and incidents are bound to happen.

6. Speaking of accidents, bundling your auto insurance can usually result in a marriage discount. Now that is some nice savings too.

7. Even if you like the color blue, not everything in a house should be blue… and I guess same could be said about the color black. Green is nice too.

8. If you want to get in and out of a grocery store quickly, don’t take your partner. Especially if said partner likes to check on what new sauces are on the shelves. Because there are always new sauces to check out at the grocery store.

9. Ask permission before starting a tv show without your spouse. Chances are you’ll get a guilt trip later for not waiting to watch something you didn’t think they’d be interested in, because according to them, every show must be discussed first. #dontnetflixandchillsolo

10. It’s a nice treat to bring surprises home for your spouse, even if it’s something as simple as a candy bar. Shows them you were thinking of them while you were out.

11. The kitchen gets messier, the dishwasher fills up faster, and laundry feels like we’re each wearing 5 outfits a day. Cleaning is now a part time job.

12. Remembering to keep date nights on the calendar can be a struggle with busy schedules. But it’s important and should be prioritized.

13. Don’t compare your marriage to other people’s relationships. It adds zero value to yours. There is no perfect relationship or marriage. They all have their own struggles, focus on your own.

14. Practice patience, and accept that you will be practicing it for the rest of your life.

15. You can be with someone for 11 years, and only now learn that they love DOTS candy. Not like, but love. (Who knew there were people that actually “love” DOTS?!)

16. It’s okay to ask your partner to cut back on the dairy before going to sleep.

17. Breakfast in bed is a beautiful and inexpensive gift.

18. Balancing time between family and friends can be difficult, and it’s okay to say “no” when you or your spouse doesn’t feel up to being social. Your people will get it.

19. If possible, get a life insurance policy with long-term care in order to feel a bit more secure for “just in cases”.

20. Even when fighting, remember the promises you made on your wedding day. For better or worse.

21. Say sorry and be sincere about it. Don’t make empty promises you don’t intend to keep - because you will get called out on it by your spouse.

22. Always love harder.

[sope-and-shine]

The Right of a King: Pt. 1

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 15.1k  -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, Namjoon is kind of a jerk but he gets better...kinda, also a bit of a misogynist, technology abuse RIP the museum equipment, Jimin IS that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money - but will anyone complain? no.  

A/N: This whole fic is a BEAST i sWEAR! I am however really excited to share this fic with everyone! This was originally for a collab that never got to happen -RIP - but I liked the idea too much to just throw her away!

I do want to give a huge shout out to @sakuraguks-main​ for beta reading this as well as my squad for their constant encouragement throughout the writing process.

Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to writing part 2 

Masterlist

* * *

“Just the lunch box and the banana milk this time?” 

“Uh…” You look up from your wallet to view your items on the counter. It was just one prepackaged lunch and a few banana milks, much less than you usually buy on your routine dinner stop. You don’t want to buy too much, but you’d need something for later in the morning too. 

You settle for grabbing a few bags of chips off the rack next to you and set them on the counter, “I’ll take those too.”  

He nods and rings them up, bagging them while you pay with your card. He grabs your receipt and tucks it in the bag, handing them to you as you slide your wallet back into your bag, “Have a good evening, (Y/n)!”

You nod, “Thank you! See you tomorrow, Gyu!” You wave to him as you exit the convenience store and step back into the bustling city.  

Stopping for food is always a must for you before every shift with it being smack in the middle of your route. If you were to spend 10:00p.m. to 8a.m. by yourself with no food, you would probably go insane. It wasn’t like you couldn’t bring them from home, but it was much more convenient to stop on your way there. Occasionally, you’ll attempt to pull back on your snack intake, but Gyu never makes it easy on you when you do. He just makes it another typical day for you.

Wake up at 2:30, take a shower, do your school work, get ready for work, leave the house, stop to buy food from Gyu, and then arrive at the grand entrance to the Seoul Museum of History and Art.

The building itself is 4 stories high - not including the lower level storage it sits on top of - and 1 city block in length and width. It’s exterior is grand and extravagant with 3 large pillars that encase the 4 doorways that lead into the lobby. A large staircase greets you at the sidewalk, flower beds decorating the front along the brick railing on either side of the stairs. You never take the stairs on your way in, choosing to take the ramp hidden in the flowers up to the entrance instead. You’d have enough problems walking around the entire museum, adding more stairs to the mix would only ruin your mood.

Thankfully, Jin is always there to greet you on your way in. He never fails to brighten your day when you see him. Dressed sharp in a white button down tucked into fitted black dress pants with a grey suit jacket on top, he stands with his hands together in front of him and a large welcoming smile. His hair is parted just off center, not losing shape even as he nods to the patron in front of him.

You wait for him to finish his conversation before you greet him, “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Jin chuckles. He lets his shoulders relax, moving his neck from side to side before looking at his watch. He looks impressed, “Wow, you’re earlier than usual.”

You shrug, “Yeah, Hoseok said he needed to talk to me about the exhibit pieces that are coming in.” 

“Say no more,” Jin raises his hands in front of him and shakes his head, “I’ve heard all I need to.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” You laugh. You shake your head and sigh, “I should get going so I can get ready to clear the last minute rush.”

“Don’t work too hard, night guard.” He gives you a mock salute and you turn away, waving goodbye to him as you continue down the corridor into a sea of people.

Most people would think a museum wouldn’t be so popular, but your crowds never seemed to dwindle. You suppose you’d have Yoongi to thank for that. He ran the museum so smoothly it was almost like clockwork. Doors opened at 9 and they closed at 9, new exhibits rotate in and out every 7 ½ months to the day, and employees were put through severe background checks and training just to make sure they’d be competent enough to work in his museum. Everyone that works in the museum was handpicked by Yoongi himself, and everyone chosen contributes everything they have to be here.

You pass by the gift shop, spying Jimin at the counter helping a few kids pick out candies. He notices you passing and smiles, giving you a quick wave that you return before he gives his attention to the children in front of him.

You continue on down the hall, passing the cafe and the restrooms. The walls begin to lose their decor the farther you go, becoming planer and planer until you reach the break room doors. 

“He was like, ‘do you think toys for cavemen were any different from present day? Like that shit must be wild bro’ and then they all started laughing at me when I said they didn’t have a Toys R Us, so yeah, they were different from now.” Jeongguk says as you enter the room. His impeccable timing for ‘strange conversation’ never ceases to amaze you every time you walk through the door.

Jeongguk’s a great guy, always very respectful and eager to learn more, but he’s been working as a tour guide in the museum for about a year now and he still hasn’t seemed to pick up on anything. You’re pretty sure Yoongi only hired him to keep the single ladies coming back. It was hard to correct someone with such a cute, bunny smile and such remarkable enthusiasm in the work place.

“Do you think it was an inside joke?” He proceeds to ask, his attention trained on Johnny who stands at the locker to the right of yours.

The man in question can’t stop himself from giving the younger a disappointed frown, “Dude...you’re the joke…”

Jeongguk tilts his head in confusion and you jump into the conversation, “I’m sure they’re just being teenagers, Guk. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” You turn to briefly glare at your locker mate as you open it, turning your frown into a smile when you face Jeongguk again, “Tomorrow is another day!”

“You’re right!” He closes his locker and throws his bag over his shoulder, his confidence already returning, “I’ll learn everything I can about cavemen toys and come back tomorrow prepared to tell all of my tours about them!”

He leaves before you can say anything back, off to do whatever it is he usually does after work. You don’t mind though, it’s a little hard to understand the college sophomore anyways. At least with him leaving you can relax before your shift starts.

Johnny sighs next to you, “You mother him too much.”

“I don’t mother him. I just don’t want to explain to him what they’re actually talking about.” You argue, placing your bags on the hooks in your locker. You take off your overcoat and replace it with your black security jacket, fixing the collar, “Besides, he’ll figure it out by this weekend and then he won’t make eye contact with either one of us for the next week.”

“Whatever you say.” He pulls out a lint roller and hands it to you before closing his locker, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Waving behind you with the roller in hand, you say, “Have a good night!” You hear the door open and close behind you, leaving you alone in the room to sort yourself out. 

You make quick work to de-lint your black work pants, setting the roller at the top of your locker. Then you take the bags you set down and pull them over to the table at the center of the room, leaving your locker open while you take out your food to be refrigerated. When you have everything you need, you place the leftover snacks back on the hook and shut the door. 

The door opens on your way to the fridge, Hoseok walking in with a folder in his hands. He looks up from whatever he’s reading and his eyes widen in surprise, “You’re here!”

You open the fridge, “Yeah, you told me to come in a little early.” You set your bag on the top shelf, close the door, and turn to him, “You wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?”

“Right.” He approaches the table and sets his stuff down, sorting through a few papers before he pulls one from his stack. He extends it to you,  “This is all the information about who we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. It has times, names, and a manifest.”

“Everything is the same from the texts you sent me, right?” You ask, eyes skimming over the sheet for anything new.

“Yes! Each artifact was individually packed, so we should only have 12 new pieces coming in tomorrow.” 

“Okay, so we just need to keep an eye on what they bring in.” You say, more to yourself than to him. You take a moment to let the information sink in, nodding in understanding when you’re sure you have it all down. You look back up to Hoseok who’s already discarding his security jacket, “Did you have any luck on new night guard help?”

“Ah-...no,” Hoseok sets his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him. He’d been searching for new help ever since Chanyeol left, leaving you to run the night shift alone. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal for a museum in the middle of the city. You knew that and so did Hoseok. “I’ve been working on it, but it’s been hard with the new arrivals. Besides, you know how Yoongi is when he’s hiring new employees.”

You nod, knowing exactly how anal the museum director could truly be, “Yeah, I know. Just keep me updated though?” 

You don’t really mind working by yourself, but you could only go so many days without a single day off. Thankfully, Hoseok was understanding of this, “I will! I’ll work something out, I promise!”

“Thank you,” You smile. You grab your bag off the table and hoist it over your shoulder, “I’m gonna go clock in and see about ushering the night crowd out.” 

“Hyuk should be starting on level 1.” He informs you. 

“I’ll take level 4 then.” You bid Hoseok goodbye and head across the hall to the security room, setting your stuff down in your chair and clocking in at the main computer. You take a moment to check the camera’s, looking for the most populated areas to look out for and which exhibits you could close as you go through.

This was something you did everyday. You’d find the unpopulated areas first so you could sweep the rooms and lock the exhibits behind you. One by one, you make sure to clear the floor before you move to the next level.

The third level is much busier than the other levels, having had the most change to it’s layout since the new exhibit was brought in 2 weeks prior. Families make their way to the stairs while couples try to catch one last look at exhibits they missed in favor for another.

Walking into the Ancient Dynasties Exhibit, you nod to the partons that you pass on their way out, stopping by the occasional straggler to let them know it’s time to go. You rarely ever have problems with getting someone to leave - maybe once or twice you’ve had to get physical with someone or call the police to escort them out of the museum - but the number of times is so small you could count them on one hand. There’s only one person you have to repeatedly kick out of the exhibit, and he’s worse than any patron you’ve ever dealt with.

“Taehyung, I need you to leave.” You tell him, approaching him from behind. His green, 3 piece suit is only slightly wrinkled from his work throughout the day, his jacket discarded and set off to his side.

The bubbly curator turns his head over his shoulder, dirty blonde locks still kept in a perfect side-sweep thanks to his “very essential” hair gel. His smile is almost a tease as he says, “Just a few more minutes.”

You cross your arms and sigh, “I’m counting.”

The saying “Just a few more minutes” has lost all meaning with Taehyung. You haven’t believed him since your third day of working together. He’s never been good at leaving his exhibits, wanting to take pride in his work. Despite having the ability to take pictures of the area as it’s curator, he insists on committing them all to memory. In hindsight, it’s very endearing. However, his wants tend to put you behind your own schedule.

He turns back around and you take a seat next to him on the bench. You take an obligatory look around the section he sits in, glancing over each artifact that decorates the walls. From tapestries or writing displays that hang on the walls, to small podiums with items far more fragile encased in glass. In front of you - roped off and on a placed on a small stage - is a large sarcophagus covered in gold with two lit candle placed beside it. Behind it is a wall of flowers, all apparently favorites from when the King was alive. 

“Have I told you about Namjoon hyung?” He asks, referencing the mummy in front of you.

King Kim Namjoon of the Kim Dynasty. The only king of Korea to be mummified. Of all the exhibits you’ve been through with Taehyung, this one was his favorite. You could really say he’s obsessed with the dead King! Even with 6 more exhibits to his name. Taehyung spent almost all of his time in this section.

“I think I could talk about this guy in my sleep!” You laugh, nudging his side playfully, “And should you really be calling him ‘hyung’? If anything, he’s an ‘ahjussi’ to you.”

“Yes, but I know so much about him that he feels like a hyung to me!” He argues with a certain admiration in his eyes, “I’ve spent years waiting for this moment to have him in one of my exhibits, and now he’s right at my fingertips!”

He really isn’t exaggerating either. Before the king arrived, Taehyung would show you continuous updates about his uncovering and the updates on how his body was kept. The day his exhibit was approved, you thought he was going to explode. Of all the curators and all of the possible museums, he got King Namjoon. Anyone who didn’t know would’ve thought he won the lottery. In a way, he did.

“His exhibit here is a permanent one, Tae. He’s not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about him leaving anytime soon.” You assure him, placing a hand on his arm. Your smile turns into a grin, “What I am worried about is you leaving soon. Get out of my museum before I go find Yoongi.”

“I’m not afraid of Yoongi.” You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders drop, “Okay, so maybe I’m terrified of Yoongi, but that’s not important right now!”

You give his shoulder a light nudge, “Go home, Taehyung. The rest of your hyung will be here tomorrow.” You tease.

He sighs and leans his head back, “You say that like he didn’t arrive all put together. He’s a mummy, not Frankenstein.”

You hit his arm, “Get out of here.”

“Okay!” He stands up and turns to you with a boxy grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”

“I never do.” You wave him off, watching him saunter out of the exhibit with a little jump in his step. Even after 14 hours on the clock of rounding the museum to look at his works, he’s still running like he just woke up. Some days you wish you could be as happy with your job as Taehyung is, but how many people truly loved working the night shift in a dark, quiet museum?

* * *

“Alright, let’s make this fast and efficient everyone!” Yoongi barks, walking up to the loading dock where you and Hoseok stand on opposite sides of the doors. He eyes the unloading crew unlocking the truck and sends them a warning glare, “It’s a full moon tonight, and I will not be out at 3am like last time.”

“You need to relax, Yoongi,” Hoseok warns him, still standing across from you, “It’s just a few small pieces and then we’ll be out of here before your ‘witching hour’ is here.”

Hoseok wiggles his fingers for a “spooky emphasis” and you stifle a chuckle. Yoongi is not as amused, “Laugh all you want, but at least I won’t be dead.”

“Is that a threat? Can I file an HR complaint?” Hoseok asks.

Yoongi sighs, “Just do your job while they unload so we can leave.”

You offer a teasing grin and a nod, “Yes sir~”

Yoongi walks away and Taehyung replaces him, standing next to you instead of in the way of the workers. He rolls back and forth on his feet, watching happily as if he were a child at Christmas.

“Did I tell you what’s coming today?” He asks.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure you may have mentioned it here or there.”

Of course, you know what was coming in. Your job is to protect it with your life. Hoseok gave you the run down via text on your last 5 shifts and again today as soon as you walked through the doors. More paintings, a chair, a dusty old book, and the shining jewel of the King’s tomb.

“His lover’s necklace!” Taehyung beams, “According to what we know, this necklace was used by the King to find his soulmate. We believe that because he didn’t take a queen, he never found his other half.”

You shrug, “Maybe he wasn’t really looking.”

“Maybe...maybe not. Most historians believe he mummified himself so when fate brings his soulmate to him, he’d wake again and they’d spend eternity together.” He turns to you and flicks your forehead, “You would know if you actually paid attention to me.”

You push him back, “Well, excuse me if I can’t listen to you talk about his majesty for more than 10 minutes a week.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns back to the movers. His annoyance quickly turns to excitement as he catches sight on the last box being carried in, “Is that the necklace?”

“Uh…” The man carrying the box looks at the label on the side, nodding to Taehyung in confirmation, “Yes sir.”

“Oh! Follow me!” Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you after him. You turn your head back to Hoseok for help but he’s already waving you off while he closes the loading doors. You both follow the crew member to the table where a few other small items are being opened already, waiting long enough for the man to open the box for you. You can’t see the inside of the crate with Taehyung in your way, but he gets the first look at whatever dingy piece of jewelry is inside. He flails in excitement, “Look at this!”

Taehyung rushes forward, pushing the man helping him out of the way to reach into the box. When he turns around, he holds a smaller box in his hand, “It’s right here!”

“That’s another box…” You point out, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“It’s not just another box!” He argues. He undoes the latch and pulls the lid back towards him, revealing the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. A delicate string of silver stones bedazzled with small fuschia gems all laced together with a golden band weaving under and over. It glistens in the shine of the storage room work lights, drawing you in with every hypnotizing twinkle. 

Taehyung smiles knowingly, enjoying your sudden engrossment in the artifact, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch the delicate jewel. It takes a surprising amount of restraint from you just to pull away, “It’s definitely pretty.”

Yoongi claps his hands from the table beside you, “Let’s get these up to the Ancient Dynasties exhibit and in their places so we can get out of here.”

Everyone takes a box and begins to move upstairs, you and Hoseok helping the men with the old chair to ensure it doesn’t get stuck on anything. With the few items left to be brought into the exhibit, it didn’t take long at all for everything to be settled into their rightful places. 

“Perfect! It’s all perfect!” Taehyung cheers, clapping his hands and squeezing them together. His excitement for this event was unmatched, and you know that in the morning when you see him next, he’ll be bouncing up and down just as he is now.

Hoseok nods to you, “Let’s lock them up.”

“Right.” You pull out your keyring and begin the process of going case to case while Hoseok sets their alarms after you. You make it all the way around the room until you stand in front of the necklace again. It’s beauty draws you in, having never seen something like this before. Many would think it too bulky and busy for someone to wear everyday, but a part of you could see it’s appeal.

A part of you wouldn’t mind wearing it at all. 

Taehyung walks over to where you stand locking the cases and audibly gasps behind you, “Fix it!”

You jump, “Fix what?”

“The necklace! It’s not straight!” He points at the case and you turn your attention back to the object beneath the glass. Staring at with a clearer mind, it is indeed tilted just slightly to the left. If you were to just glance at it, you probably would have never noticed. But nothing could get past a perfectionist like Taehyung, “We have to fix it now!”

“Okay!” To appease the overly attentive curator, you unlock the case and adjust the necklace yourself. You pull the delicate string of stone and gem into place, locking it back up when you’re done. It glimmers in the corner of your eye as you turn back to Taehyung, “Better?”

He grins, knowing fully well that you’re more than annoyed with him, “Perfect.”

“Alright, now that we’re all done, everyone needs to leave so I can go home.” Yoongi announces.

Hoseok chuckles, “You really don’t want to be up past midnight do you?”

“I don’t care about being up past midnight. I don’t want to be out past midnight.” The older man grumbles, most likely cursing the other in the back of his mind, “There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Hoseok teases, making Yoongi glare at him even harder than before. He turns to the movers and waves for them to follow him, “Gentlemen, let me show you back to your truck. We wouldn’t want the grump over here to bite your head off.”

The group follows after Hoseok and so does Yoongi, “You’re so lucky you’re my friend, Hoseok, or I would fire you so fast.”

Hoseok only laughs at his loose threat, “Well, if you’d like to take the bus then be my guest.”

They all leave the exhibit and you turn to Taehyung who still stands in front of the case admiring the necklace inside, “So, I’ll see you early tomorrow, Tae?”

He turns back to you and gives you a large, reassuring smile, “Bright and early.” 

“Go and get some rest for your big day then.” You say, placing a hand on his back and nudging him towards the door.

You watch him leave the exhibit, laughing at the way he dances to the music playing in his head. You take the responsibility of closing the gate, glancing over the exhibits contents between the bars before following Taehyung yourself. You say goodbye to Yoongi and Hoseok at the front door, ensuring the door gets locked behind them before getting to your own duties that were halted because of the shipment.

---

It’s later in the evening when you finally get to make your rounds through the empty halls of the museum. You’d checked every camera in the building twice, filling out your night paperwork as well as the visitor log for Hoseok to look over in the morning as you went. All you really had to do was roam the halls every now and then, keeping an eye on the monitors for anything suspicious.

The night shift was never quite as tiring as the day shift. Your interaction with patrons or real people was always far below what Hoseok and the dayshift would have to deal with - that was part of the reason you chose to take over the night shift. It was a bit more time consuming with just you, but hopefully Hoseok will find someone to replace Chanyeol before the New Year.

You hear a faint bang down the corridor and you pause. You’ve heard bumps like this before, mostly when it would rain and the tree by the ramp outside would hit the window. Rain wasn’t on the forecast for the evening, but that had never stopped it before. Not so easily scared, you continue on down the hall, stopping at the end of the hall when you hear it again.

“What the fuck…?” You say to yourself, a slight shake in your voice. The bang sounds again and you reach for your flashlight, it being the only protection against intruders. 

In the three years you’ve worked as a security guard, you’ve never had a break in. Even before you, there had never once been an attempt by anyone to steal anything. In reality, the alarms should’ve gone off by now if someone had made their way into the museum. That meant that someone was smart enough to get past the security system, or you were going crazy.

You really hope you’re going crazy.

You make your way down the hallway, following the bumps and bangs into the Ancient Dynasties exhibit. The gate is locked - it hasn’t been unlocked since you left the room at midnight - but the noise isn’t one easily mistaken. 

Against your better judgement you unlock the gate, stepping in and leaving the gate cracked behind you. If you needed a quick escape, then you wanted to be able to yank it closed as well. The noises cease as soon as you’re completely past the gate, sending an ominous chill up your spine. At a glance, nothing in the room seems out of place. Nothing looks to have been moved or damaged, but that does little to settle your unease.

“This is normal...everything is normal.” You say to yourself, trying to trick yourself into having the courage to move forward.

You spot the necklace in it’s spot close to the sarcophagus. It’s glass remains intact, just like every other item within the exhibit’s walls. It would make sense for someone to come after it considering it’s value, yet there it remains untouched.

“So where did the banging come fr-Agh!” You scream as the sarcophagus lid bursts open, falling to the floor in front of it and ripping the ropes connected to the wall right out.  

Inside the now open casket, the ancient king covered in tattered, dusty cloth rolls his head. You can see his mouth move from underneath the dirt as he yawns. His arms raise to stretch in front of him, the mummy taking one step out of his box.

You can only stand in shock as you watch what happens in front of you. You had to be dreaming. There was no way you were actually awake witnessing a dead king coming to life in front of you. This had to be some sort of sick joke from Yoongi for calling him short. Maybe Johnny for calling him out in front of that group of fourth graders. Someone has to be messing with you. 

The mummy turns his head to you and your breath hitches. You’ve never wanted to have seen The Mummy so much in one moment than this one, wishing you knew what exactly to do in this situation. You wish your feet would move, but they’re planted so firmly to the ground that they feel more like cement than limbs.

The monster before you takes a step in your direction, and you scream. You will yourself to move back, but you can’t stop yourself from stumbling over your own feet. You trip and land on your bottom, your body not even registering the pain as you attempt to scoot back away from the danger that continues to follow after you.

Every step he takes is another scream that releases from your lungs, your fear getting the best of you. It isn’t until your back hits the large display case that helps to divide the room that you realize you have nowhere else to go. You turn your head away, preparing yourself for whatever is about to come.

But nothing does.

You take a peek at the tall being before you and notice that he’s stopped moving, towering over your cowering form with his head tilted. His mouth opens and sounds come out, but his speech is muffled by the bandages. He seems to realize this though as his bandaged hands fly to his face.

You watch him pat around his face and neck until he finds a loose cloth, pulling it out and beginning the process of unwrapping his face. You watch in horror, unsure if the image before you will haunt you forever or not. To see what’s left of a 1,000 year old decomposed body that’s been “preserved” was something you never thought you would ever have to bear witness to. Hopefully, your therapist for this experience will understand.

If you get that far.

However, you weren’t expecting to see a full head of healthy brown hair appear as he went, nor did you expect to see healthy, tanned skin be freed from the confines as well. Brown eyes meet yours and a smile is uncovered, “Hello.” 

“Hi...” You blink rapidly, hoping if you do it enough times your vision will clear, but the man in front of you still half-covered in gauze doesn’t disappear. You shake your head, “Am I awake?”

“You are as awake as I am.” He says with a pleasant smile.

“That’s not a very reassuring answer...” You can’t help but stare at him in awe and wonder just how this was happening. Of course, Taehyung had told you countless times about this supposed curse or whatever it was, but you thought it was all just a hoax your ancestors believed in. There is no possible way that you are actually awake and experiencing reincarnation or rebirth or whatever this is firsthand.

“Ow!” You feel a pinch on your calf, pulling you from your thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Or more specifically, the person before you. 

“Well, did you feel that?” He asks. In your dazed state, you hadn’t noticed the man bend to your level and reach out to pinch you with rag covered fingers. The dust and mold leave a stain on your work pants and you can’t help but frown in disgust, “Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately I did.”

“You must be frightened and confused. Allow me to introduce myself-” He bows his head to you from where he kneels on the floor, “-I am King Kim Namjoon of Korea.” He looks back up and smiles bright, showcasing his dimples, “It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” 

You tilt your head in confusion at his choice of words, “I’m sorry, you’ve been waiting for me? I don’t understand.”

“Are you not aware of our bond?” He asks, tilting his own head to the side.

Of course you know about his bond, it’s all that Taehyung has ever told you about! His necklace was gifted by the moon goddess so that when his soulmate touches it, he’ll wake up and they’l-

It takes you a moment to realize that he believes you to be his long lost soulmate, and you’re ready to spiral into another frenzy when you do, “No…” 

Soulmates aren’t real. Nobody just walks around and bumps into their soulmate on the street. They don’t hear their voice in the back of their heads. They don’t wait over 1,000 years to be matched with a fucking dead guy.

“No.” You repeat, more confident in yourself. 

“I understand you may be confused as to what this all must mean, but I’ll explain it to you-” Namjoon tries to reach out to you again, but you’re quick to push him away this time.

You stand from the floor in a rush and take two steps towards the center of the room where the two display cases separate and show a clear path to the exhibit’s only exit, “No, you won’t. Please return to your box.” 

He stands up after you but stops when he sees you step back again, “But we’re destined to be together!”

“Destiny isn’t real! This-” You gesture with both hands from you to him, “-isn’t real!”

“Our bond is as real as you and I!” He argues. You can feel the want and passion dripping from his voice. It isn’t hard to tell how much he truly believes you’re his soulmate, but he’s dead wrong - no pun intended. “I’ve spent so long waiting for you.”

“Nope.” It didn’t matter how many times he flashes you that lovestruck look. Soulmates weren’t real, and whatever is going on in front of you isn’t real either, “This isn’t happening.” You turn away from him, resorting to pacing out your frustrations instead of voicing them. 

Namjoon watches you with a disappointed frown and slumped shoulders, “Well, this isn’t how this was supposed to happen.” He mumbles.

You attempt to calm your breathing, pleading with your rationale to find some way - any way - to explain what’s happening. The whole interaction felt like a crazy fever dream that manifested on the worst day of a cold. They’re always weird, but they’re never this realistic. 

You turn back around to address the not-so-dead king and yelp when you see him pulling at his wrap, “What are you doing?!” You ask as he tugs and pulls at the rotten fabric.

Namjoon looks up, pausing his ministrations to give you an answer, “I’m removing these incessant wrappings.”

He returns to his unwrapping, leaving you to watch him as he goes. He wasn’t naked - thankfully - but you weren’t prepared for him to immediately unwrap himself. In all honesty, you wanted him to wrap himself back up and return to his box. Fortunately for you, under his wrappings he wears a loose white shirt and loose tan pants, his shoes long forgotten. 

When he finally frees himself, he takes a moment to look around the room. His gaze trails over the walls, “What is this place? Why are we not in my tomb?”

“You’re in a museum.” You explain, watching closely to gauge his reaction. In a way, he wasn’t really that old in retrospect, but you doubt he’d seen a museum before.

He turns to look at you, just as confused as you expected him to be, “What is that?”

You shrug, “It’s a place where people go to see old things and art.”

Namjoon breaks into a smile, a red tint coloring his cheeks, “I wouldn’t say I’m art.”

“I didn’t.” You say, causing Namjoon’s face to drop just the slightest.

He’s quick to mask his disappointment with a polite smile. Turning to the side of the case he stands on, he looks back to the exhibit around him. He looks up and his eyes trail over the lights above him, “What dynasty is this?” He asks. 

“Uh...the capitalist dynasty?” You reply, unsure of what you would call this era of time. Namjoon looks confused and you sigh, “You’re in the 21st century.”

“Fascinating…” He takes a long look over the glass case a few feet in front of him - the one that holds the crown made for his queen - before he moves forward, reaches out, and swipes a hand over top of it, collecting a thin sheen of dust on his fingertips.

“Don’t do that!” You rush forward and grab his wrist, pulling it away in fear of the alarm going off. Anybody who even got too close to it should set it off, yet no siren wails at his touch. The alarms had been set by Hoseok himself, so they have to be broken if neither of you were setting it off, “What…?”

“Can I have my arm back, or is this a new rude custom I’m unaware of?” Namjoon asks, staring at the place on his wrist your hand holds hostage. 

“No, just-...” You release his arm and take a breath as a poor attempt to remain calm, “-just don’t touch anything.”

“We’ll need to touch the case to get your necklace so we can return to my home together.” He says as if what he suggested was completely normal for him.

You’re once again taken aback by his words, unsure if you heard him correctly or not, “I’m sorry?” You ask.

“We’re soulmates,” He explains, “It’s only natural for you to come live with me, so we can spend our days together.”

“We will not be going anywhere together!” You tell him. You step forward and grab him by the shoulders, turning him around so he faces his sarcophagus. You attempt to push him, “You will be staying here in your box, and you’re going to go back to sleep.”

Namjoon fights against your attempts, digging his feet into the hardwood floor beneath him. He scowls at the realization of what you’re trying to do, “Did you not hear what I said earlier? You are my destined lover. That’s how this is supposed to work!”

“And I told you that destiny isn’t real!” You argue, now using your shoulder to push all of your weight against him.

Namjoon turns to face you, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. Namjoon grabs your arms before you can fall to the floor, using this opportunity to hold you close, “Is my life not enough proof for you?”

Dark brown eyes bore into your own, his sincerity written all over his features. You can tell he’s hurt, but you can’t help but continue to fight against him, “I don’t know! I’m still trying to process everything that’s happening right now!” 

“As soon as we leave, I will explain everything to you in much greater detail.” He says, now offering a smile. However, leaving with him is the last thing you wish to do.

You push away from him and take a few steps back towards the exhibit's entrance, “We are not leaving.”

“I am a king, I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams! I can take care of you and it is my job to do so.” He reaches out and takes you by your wrist, “We’re going!”

“I don’t even know you!” You yell, pulling your arm away from him once more and stepping closer towards the exit behind you.

Namjoon looks annoyed, but he takes a deep breath before he continues to try and pursued you, “Why don’t you allow us to get to know each other then? At least tell me your name.”

“Just-” You pause, unsure of what you should even do. You take a few more steps back and he follows, “Stay there!” You demand, raising a finger to him. He does as told - whether he wishes to or not - and allows you to take a few more steps back until you catch sight of the gate in your peripherals. As long as he stays where he is, you could slip out without him, “Good.”

Namjoon, however, takes offense to you keeping your distance from him. This was no way to treat a king, especially ‘your’ king nonetheless, “Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am a king, may I remind you.”

“You may. But may I also remind you that your rule ended over 1,000 years ago and you no longer hold any power.” You say, watching the frown on his features deepen into a scowl. With every minute that passes, his calm exterior continues to break, showing you his true nature. You take this moment of weakness against him and reach for his exhibit key on your belt, “I, however, am in charge of this museum after hours, so you have to listen to me.”

“I am a man-” He tries to argue, but you’re quick to shut his misogyny down.

“-And I am a woman,” You retort, thumbing through the labeled keys. Hoseok always made fun of you for trying to organize them, but it looks like the jokes on him. Not that he would really believe you if you told him. 

“Your man card doesn’t work in this age, so try something else, your highness~” You tease.

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest and glares, “You have quite the tongue when you’re not screaming.”

“Thank you, I get it from my grandmother. Now-” You slip through the crack you left in the gate and pull it close, pulling his key from it’s retractable clip and locking him in, “-go back to sleep.”

He blinks a few times before he moves towards you. He places his hands on the bars and pulls at them, but they don’t budge under him. His eyes widen in shock and he turns to you, “Did you just lock me in here?”

“I did.” You nod, smug smile and all.

“Unlock it. Now.” He demands, tightening his hold on the bars.

“Hm…” You pretend to contemplate his request, tapping a finger against your chin before you come to a fake decision, “No.” 

“You insolent girl!” Namjoon yells, banging his fists against the gate that holds him.

You step back with wide eyes, stunned by his sudden outburst. You knew you were making him angry, but not this angry, “Wow, that’s one way to talk to your apparent soulmate.”

“I’ve been pleasant long enough! It’s time for you to accept the truth and let. Me. Out!” He demands.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I will.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” He huffs. 

Staring at him through the bars, you take in his features. He’s angry, that much is clear. But there’s something else about him that just seems more hurt than anything. You don’t want to feel bad for him, but you have to give him credit where it’s due.

You release an exasperated sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This is probably hard for you and...a fever dream for me-” Fever dream is perhaps the most lax way to describe this experience, “-but I think your necklace chose the wrong person.”

Namjoon stiffens and he almost looks offended at your assumption, “The moon goddess is never wrong.”

“Well, this time she is,” You insist.

“So what do you expect me to do?” He asks.

You shrug, “I’d prefer it if you went back into your box.”

“You want me to live my life in a box? After I’ve already spent so much time in it?!” He asks.

“Yes! No...I-” You’re unsure of what to say. On one hand, you feel a bit guilty asking him to return to a box he’s spent 1,000 years in. He died once, believing that when he woke he’d be greeted by his one true love. Instead he woke up to you screaming at him. 

But on the other hand, he was supposed to be dead. 

You sigh, “I don’t know what I want, but I can’t deal with-...” You raise your hands, grasping at the air before gesturing to him, “-this.”

The king looks offended, but he holds his tongue. Instead he crosses his arms and straightens his posture, “Well, I will not be going back in that box.”

“Wha-?” You cut yourself off, in disbelief of this man’s stubbornness. You huff, “Then go find your palace or wherever you lived before!”

He shakes his head, “I won’t leave if you refuse to leave with me.”

“Then you better get used to your view, because this is all you’ll be seeing!” You state, finally having enough of him. You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, something you should have done when you first came up to the exhibit.

“You’ll come to realize that our intertwined fates will not go away just because you wish them to!” He calls after you, his voice echoing off the walls around you, “And then you’ll be crawling back to me!”

When you continue walking and refuse to answer him, he yells again, “At least let me explore!”

“Not happening!” You call over your shoulder.

“This is humiliating! You can’t do this!” You hear him rattling the gate again, but you pay him no mind. “Come back here, you insolent child!”

You bypass every other exhibit that you were supposed to check, instead rushing back to the safety of your office. Once you’re in you bolt the door behind you, just in case anything else in the building decided it needed to come to life as well. You drop yourself in your office chair and take a moment to yourself, giving yourself time to take in all of the events that just transpired.

The mummy from the new exhibit just came to life, you were somehow able to talk to him without passing out, he thinks you’re his soulmate, and now he’s upset with you because you locked him in his exhibit that he shouldn’t be freely roaming in. 

You turn to your monitor and switch through feeds until you find Namjoon’s exhibit. He’s still standing by the closed gate, his hands slipped through the bars to try and fiddle with the lock. His posture that he once held with you is lacking, not as pristine as it was before. You can’t help but watch him with pity as his attempts to get out continue to fail.

But you can’t bring yourself to go back before the night ends.

30 minutes before the morning shift was due to come in, you use the intercom to tell Namjoon he’d have to return to his sarcophagus for the day. You couldn’t hear him, but you didn’t need a microphone to know he was not only confused but also very unhappy about that. You managed to convince him by informing him they would take him away to rot in a cell without you if he didn’t, and that seemed to kick him into gear. 

Thankfully, he didn’t need your help making it back to his bed or putting the cover on top. You were not about to go down to his exhibit. Especially when the room itself looked completely untouched on the camera. The ropes that had been torn from the wall were back in their place as if nothing had ever happened, and the wrappings the King decided to discard were nowhere to be seen.

After that, you sat and waited for the morning shift to come and take over for you. You said good morning to all of your coworkers, and then you left. You went home and you went to bed, but waking again didn’t feel like a new experience. The looming feeling of knowing what awaits when you get to work again haunts you until your once again clearing the exhibits for the night. 

You make it to the exhibit that has weighed you down for the past 12 hours and you hesitate to step inside. Clearing the room and locking it up will start the night, and then you’re left with the chances of seeing him again. Seeing him again means that everything you saw last night wasn’t a joke, and that you really have a living mummy in your museum.

What’s worse is he thinks you're his true love. 

You come across Taehyung, once again sitting on the bench in front of the king’s sarcophagus. He wears a loose white button down and a pair of black dress pants, balancing a sketch pad on his thigh. He attempts to draw the exhibits main attraction with the altar that took weeks to create. If only he knew the object of his affections was alive and well only 15 feet away from him.

“Having fun there?” You ask, sitting next to the fashionable curator.

He takes a moment to answer, defining a line on his paper before he acknowledges you, “I always do when I’m here with Namjoon-hyung.” You roll your eyes at his use of ‘hyung’ and he chuckles. He turns his attention back to his paper, “Did you have a good rest of your night?”

You feel every bone in your body tense at the mention of the previous night. Last night was almost an out of body experience for you, and there was no real way to describe what you went through.

You shrug, “It was okay, same old same old.”

“That’s good! I’m glad you’re doing well here on your own at night.” He looks up from his shading and sets his pencil down, his expression becoming somber, “It must be hard without Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, it can be...” Working without Chanyeol really wasn’t any worse than working together. The only thing is now your new coworker is a 1,000 year old un-dead guy, but that’s a little much to explain, “But it’s fine! It really isn’t that strenuous on me at all.”

He smiles at your response and turns to look at his drawing, “I guess I’m holding you up aren’t I?” 

You want to tell him more than anything that today you want him to stay just a little longer. Today is the day you want to hear all about every exhibit in the museum. More than anything, you just don’t want to face Namjoon alone, but no one would believe you if you told them the truth. So instead, you hum in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Once again, you watch him pack up and dance his way out of the exhibit. Only today you follow close behind, locking the king’s exhibit and rushing to the next - much more normal - exhibit.

 ---

It’s surreal to watch Namjoon through a screen. Sure, seeing him the other night was an experience, but to see that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you is another trip entirely! With Namjoon truly existing, that leads you to really question his claims. You did touch the necklace, but so had plenty of others. Not to mention, it took him almost 3 hours after you’d touched it to wake up, so who’s to say that Taehyung isn’t his true soulmate? Even Yoongi could be!

Anyone but you.

He’s much more different now that he’s ‘chilled out’ from last night’s events. He’s no longer pacing back and forth or banging on his exhibit’s gate - though he has tried to pull it open once or twice. Now, he just sits on the bench where you had sat with Taehyung, only he sits facing away from his final resting place. 

He looks to be in deep thought, as if he’s contemplating something as he stares ahead of him. You like him better this way, calm and quiet instead of trying too hard to convince you to run away with him. This king you could babysit until he fell back asleep as he should’ve been in the first place.

With him seemingly content, you allow yourself to work on other things you’d normally do throughout the night. You mainly focus on the online coursework you didn’t get done due to the distraction on the screen in front of you, organizing your office in between assignments. You don’t really pay any mind to your cameras until you catch movement coming from Namjoon’s.

On the screen, he appears to be waving his arms and yelling, resembling those people you see on TV when someone gets injured. You can’t help but sigh. You’ve been putting off your rounds just so you wouldn’t have to go by his exhibit for him to accost you, now you didn’t have a choice but to go see what was troubling him before he broke something.

You grab your flashlight and tuck it into its place on your belt clip, leaving the safety of your office to see what his majesty so desperately needs from you. It must be desperate if he’s yelling for the entire city to hear. You quicken your pace to get there faster, hopefully before anybody besides you has the chance to hear his cries.

“Soulmate!” He yells, his voice clear as day as you reach level 3, “Come here! I demand your presence!” 

“If you don’t stop yelling for everyone to hear you, then I’m going to turn around and leave you alone!” You yell back, assuming he hears you when the yelling doesn’t continue. You make it to the gate of his exhibit and find him waiting for you with his arms crossed, no longer as relaxed as he was when the night began. 

“What?” You ask, stopping in front of him.

He doesn’t give you the pleasure of knowing right away. Instead, he looks you up and down with a hard glare, “You didn’t bring me food.”

“That’s what you’re yelling about?” You ask in disbelief.

Namjoon takes offense to your indifference, “Yes! For your information, I am very hungry for someone who hasn’t eaten in over 1,000 years.”

In hindsight, you’d most likely be a little angry too if you hadn’t eaten in so long as well - though it’s not really an excuse for his behavior last night. But explaining why an unconscious guy was chilling on the floor of a locked exhibit with security footage showing him coming out of the sarcophagus would not be fun for anyone involved. 

“I’ll be right back.” You leave him to run back to the break room, grabbing the prepackaged lunch you had bought for yourself, a pair of disposable chopsticks, and a banana milk that you kept stashed behind Hoseok’s forgotten lunchbox before heading back up. 

Namjoon gives you a strange look when you come back, his eyes trained on the box in your hand, “What is that?”

“It was my lunch, but you probably need this more than me.” You look for the key to his exhibit on your belt, sifting through until you find the right label and pull it up to unlock the gate. You pause before turning the lock, “Move back to the case.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, his eyes narrowed in a glare. You return your own glare until he finally gives in and takes the steps back to the case as you asked him to, “Happy?”

You nod and turn the lock over, opening the gate and slipping inside with the food you brought for him. You hand him the lunchbox and the milk before you reach into your back pocket for the chopsticks, “Sorry if it’s not what you’re used to, but this is all I’ve got-”

“-There’s no need.” He raises a hand to stop you - an action that irks you to no end - and sits on the floor with the food you’ve given him. You watch as he struggles with the tape that holds it together, holding back your laughter when he manages to get it off the box and stuck to his fingers instead. He seems to relax when he rubs it off on the floor, but his next challenge comes when he opens the packet of chopsticks and there’s only one inside, “What this?!”

“I’m going to assume you’ve never seen this before.” You bend down to his level to take the chopsticks from him, holding each one and pulling them apart to create two, perfectly good chopsticks. You bite back a laugh when you see the amazement written across Namjoon’s face, “Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Very…” He says. You hand him the chopsticks, watching with amusement as he tries to fit them back together. One drops and he fumbles to catch it before he realizes you’re still watching him, quickly using the utensils to shove food in his mouth as a distraction. 

“Here.” Not wanting him to embarrass himself further, you take his banana milk and open it for him, setting it beside him while he eats. He takes a moment to take a sip and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What is this?” He asks, holding the bottle close to his face to inspect the label.

You shrug, “It’s just banana milk.” 

“Well, it tastes fantastic!” He tilts his head back and chugs the rest of it, wiping his mouth before turning back to you with the same expression of a puppy ready to play, “Is there more?”

“Uh…” You hesitate to answer, afraid he’ll try to boss you around again, “Yeah, we do.”

“Bring me-!” He stops when he sees your expression sour. Instead, he clears his throat and bows his head, “If you wouldn’t mind, could I please have another?”

“Sure thing.” You smile, and he smiles back. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an understanding after the fiasco that happened the night before. 

So, you rush back while he continues eating, grabbing two more banana milks and a bag of chips for you to munch on yourself. When you come back, you’re not surprised to see that he’s finished his food and left the box laying on the floor with the empty milk container. You want to be upset with him for just leaving his trash lying around, but it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s trying so hard to work the kiosk.

“This infernal contraption doesn’t work!” He yells, hitting the top of it as if that would somehow make it work. Of course, he’s not the only person to try this - you’ve seen many middle aged men try to do the same thing when you close - but it would only prove to break if he didn’t dial it back.

“Don’t do that!” You rush to his side and push his hands away, blocking him from touching the kiosk any more. “You can’t just hit things and expect them to work. That’s not how people solve their problems.”

“Well, it doesn’t have a mouth, so how am I supposed to talk to it?” He questions.

“Okay…” You heave a sigh and grab the headphones that rest on the kiosk’s base, a pair for you and a pair for Namjoon. You place yours on your head and then move to place Namjoon’s over his ears. He flinches away from your touch and you pull back a bit, “It’s okay, I’m just going to show you how this works.”

He relaxes, bowing his head so you can place the headphones over his ears. Once they’re well adjusted, you tap the screen of the kiosk to bring it to life. You read through the options designed for the exhibit, choosing to let it read through information about Namjoon himself.

“The Kim Dynasty-” The woman’s voice fills both of your ears, scaring Namjoon so much that he jumps back and his headphones clang to the floor.

His scared expression is priceless, eyes wide and hands raised to defend himself. You laugh, picking up his headphones and extending them to him, “That’s supposed to happen.”

“How is it doing that? Is there a woman trapped in each of these?” He asks, eyeing the other kiosks that line the wall beside the one you share.

You shake your head, “It’s called a recording. They made a copy of her voice and put it in here so the people that come here can learn more about you.”

“Oh…” He accepts your answer and the headphones in your hand, “I see the moon goddess has been very busy.”

“Here.” You grab his hand and fix it so his pointer finger sticks out, guiding his hand so it presses lightly against the glass to select a different option. A new section of Namjoon’s life begins to play and Namjoon seems impressed by the ‘power’ he holds in one appendage. “This is called a touch-screen. You just have to tap the buttons on the screen and it’ll change.”

He nods, staring intently at the screen before him. He tilts his head and taps the little home button at the top left, surprised when the screen changes from a video to the screen it started on. He smiles, his dimples popping out as he chooses another option, “This is amazing!”

His smile is infectious, as well as his eagerness to learn more about the technology in front of him, “I’ll just leave you to play with that for a bit, I have a job to do.”

“Yes! Okay.” He waves you off, paying more attention to the kiosk than to you. 

You lock the gate behind you when you leave, though it doesn’t seem like Namjoon even took notice of either action. Even after you rush through your duties to come back to him sooner, he’s still playing with the same kiosk with a child’s enthusiasm.

“You’re really enjoying yourself.” You muse, standing off to the side behind him.

Namjoon nods, his fingers still dancing across the screen, “This technology is amazing! If only we had this in my dynasty. I can only imagine the advantages we would have had.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, it definitely comes in handy. Though, a lot of people believe it’s made us weaker as a society.”

“I can see why. Everything I could ever want to know about myself is right here at my fingertips,” He says, scrolling through the different options he could look through. He comes across a picture of himself and grimaces, “I wish they would have used a different portrait.”

You chuckle in amusement, “Well, if you’re not having my trouble, then I‘m going to get back to my office.” You go to leave the room again when Namjoon grabs you by the arm.

“Wait!” He yells, pulling you back to him. It takes him a second to realize what he did before he let’s go, “Sorry!” 

“It’s fine.” You mumble. 

“I just-...” The king pauses, taking a moment to collect himself, “I wanted to know if I could look at more exhibits tomorrow?”

His eyes look down into yours, so hopeful for a good answer. You’re unsure, “I don’t know…” You want to say yes to him, but there’s so much at stake if you were to let him walk around on his own. Granted, he couldn’t trip the alarms, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break anything. 

“I won’t touch anything, I swear!” He promises, both of his hands reaching out to take your own. He holds them to his chest, lightly cradling against the fabric of his shirt as he begs you, “I just don’t want to spend the rest of my time sitting in this room when there’s so much more around me.”

That gets you.

If there was one thing you could understand, it was being somewhere new with so much knowledge that you just had to know more. For someone like Namjoon, this was more than that. He had a whole world to try to come to terms with, and he was standing in the best place to do so. If you denied him that, then would you be able to deal with it?

“Tomorrow.” You say, “I’ll let you explore the museum tomorrow.”

Namjoon’s eyes light up and it looks like a weight is lifted right off of his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate to bow to you, “Thank you, soulmate.”

“It’s not the whole museum!” You add quickly, “And my name is (Y/n).” He seems unhappy at first, but he does eventually nod to give his thanks where it was due. You give a polite bow back, “You’re welcome.”

The next night comes all too quickly for you. Leaving him alone to explore was more than nerve wracking. You were probably out of your mind for even considering letting him out on his own, let alone trusting him in the first place. Sitting in your office you’d check the camera’s every few minutes just to be sure he was still in the hall, or you’d pinpoint his last location and make your final round of the museum according to how he’d walk through the halls.

That first night, Namjoon only went through his exhibit and the rest of level 3. Occasionally you’d catch him playing with a water fountain on the camera’s in front of the bathroom. Another time you caught him turning towards a planter and you quickly changed screens, reminding yourself to open a bathroom for him for the next night. 

As two more nights pass, you notice his want to get closer to the exhibits than to just sit on the outside. More often than not, you caught him with his face pressed against the metal bars trying to get a closer look at everything. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wanted to be in the room with the art itself, but a part of you is still worried to let him have that extra inch.

It’s only on the 5th night when Taehyung takes notice of your woes that you change your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning over himself on the bench to look at you. You sit with your hands in your lap just staring at Namjoon in front of you, wondering if you can really trust him to continue keeping his word. You don’t notice Taehyung, nor do you hear his question. He rolls his eyes and taps your knee twice, “Hey!”

“Huh?” You blink away your thoughts and turn your attention to him. Unaware of what he asked, you tilt your head in confusion, “What?”

Taehyung hums to himself and nods, “I’m right, something is wrong with you.”

“What do you mean something’s wrong with me?” You ask defensively.

Taehyung sighs and shows you his watch, showing you that it’s 5 minutes past weekday closing time, “This is the longest you’ve let me sit here rambling to myself. 10 minutes past our normal time!”

You shake your head, content to push him away, “I’m just a bit distracted, that’s all.”

“By what? Is it a work problem? Family troubles? You can tell me, I’ll listen!” He assures you. 

You have no doubt in your mind that he will listen to you, but how do you explain your situation is the real problem at hand. There were only so many excuses in the world, and if you weren’t careful you might get yourself fired just for using a bad analogy.

You weigh your options and sigh, “My niece - she’s really little and way too rambunctious to come here - really wants to come and see the art on display. I want her to come see where I work because I know she likes the art, but I know my sister is worried about her breaking something or causing a scene.”

“Hmm...I see.” Taehyung hums, not showing any sign of suspicion against you. He really thinks about your ‘concern’ before he comes to a conclusion. “I think she should come and see.”

“Really?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah! It’s best to let children experience art and it’s creativity for themselves! Even young children have an eye for art, and those who truly appreciate it only want to see it up close to see every detail.”

“I guess that does make sense…” Thinking about it, he does have a point. Namjoon may be from a different moment in time, but he’s still a grown adult. 

Taehyung seems to sense your uncertainty and places a calming hand on your knee, “Art isn’t meant to be viewed from afar. It’s made to make us feel emotion.” He explains, “Even the most unlikely of patrons can find something that makes them appreciate art.” 

Even after your talk is finished and you’ve left Namjoon’s exhibit unlocked for him to let himself out, you’re still debating your next course of action. There’s a big risk in letting him roam through the exhibits, but you can’t in good conscience let him sit around doing nothing forever.

You find Namjoon on level 4, his face pressed against the bars of the Apparel Through the Ages exhibit. You sneak up behind him and clear your throat, “Good evening, your highness.”

Namjoon stumbles back, not expecting you to be there. It’s amusing to watch him scramble into a more respectable position with his hands behind his back. He glances your way, “Have you come around already?”

“No, I haven’t,” You say. You pull at the keys on your belt and jingle them, “I’ve come to open an exhibit for you.”

“What?” He’s surprised, “Will you really?” 

“Someone told me that those who appreciate art want to take in all the details they can.” It didn’t take a genius to see that Namjoon wants to see more than he can see at the exhibit’s gates. An old soul like his could probably use some new perspective, “You choose the exhibit and I’ll unlock it.”

“Any of them?” He asks.

You nod, “Just lead the way.”

The light in his eyes that you saw the night before comes back and it relaxes you for some reason. Even as he takes your wrist to lead you down the hall to the exhibit he wants to see, it’s as if he’s two different people. It’s almost confusing how quickly his demeanor changes with you. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he becomes a child. Yet the moment you offer something new - something for him to learn about - it’s as if he’s just a child at heart. 

When you open the Animal Kingdom exhibit on level 2 for him you’re thrown for another loop. He only gives you a simple thanks and walks away, leaving you to question if he’s just inherently an asshole or if he’s just petty. Even as you come back around from your rounds to close up for the night, he still seems to flip back and forth with his own personality and his thanks.

You go home that morning confused and on a mission. You throw the notion of sleep out the window and settle onto your couch with a cup of coffee and your laptop, determined to know more about this so-called King that intends to ruin your life little by little. 

A simple Google search brings you many results, ranging in portraits and newspaper articles to biographies written by renowned historians. You click on the first link available, taking you to a page drowning in photos and art. It would seem that even in life, Namjoon enjoyed surrounding himself with art. 

His portraits were absolutely breathtaking - you could understand his disappointment now that you’ve seen more than just the one - and the pictures they showcase of his palace are surrounded in flowers and gorgeous statement pieces littered across the grounds. It’s surprising to read that they’ve remained there for so long without any disturbances. You would have thought they’d taken one or two lawn pieces like they had taken Namjoon, yet they remain in their home without any signs of distress to them. 

You take another long sip of coffee and move onto another page, checking out a more informative website. This one goes into detail about his life as a prince and as a king. You discover that he became king at the young age of 17 when his parents sadly passed away during an ambush to the throne. Apparently, he changed over half of the Kingdom’s laws the very next day and saw to every change in policy himself. It only took him 3 months to get the people of his kingdom to trust in him and his guidance, which - according to the article - was a big feat for his time.

You’re surprised to read about his contributions to his people. He strongly encouraged his people to progress forward and bring him their concerns, he housed over 30 children in his home at one time because they had no homes to go to and he even had a sort of sanctuary for animals to be cared for under his watch. He oversaw their historians writing, ensuring that they put every detail on paper. Even his failures were written down under his careful eye, despite his power to erase them from future generations

This Namjoon was so kind and caring. He was so well educated and well-spoken, and he was loved by all of his people for his generosity and understanding nature. How is it that a man who was known for being so kind, could be the same man who bossed you around and demanded that you spend the rest of your life with him?

How is it that a guy who sounds so sweet on paper can be a total dick in real life?

* * *

After hours of research with no sleep and a cold shower to wake you up, you find yourself standing in front of Namjoon with a copy of The Little Prince tucked on top of the food you’ve brought him for the night.

Namjoon accepts the food, taking the boxed lunch with one hand so he can pick up the book with the other. He inspects it carefully, flipping it over a few times to look it over, “What’s this?”

“I did a little research on you, your highness. According to historians and the internet, you were quite the avid reader.” You’d read a lot about Namjoon, and every website you visited gave you list upon list of books read by him when he was still alive and well. They all spoke of his fascination for fantasy novels and those with deeper meanings behind them. The Little Prince seemed like a no brainer to you when it came to more relevant novels to fit his tastes. “I figured you might get bored sooner or later, so I brought you something to pass the time until you fall asleep again.”

“You know that’s not how the enchantment works, yes?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment before you reply, “No, I don’t know that. Do you?”

“I-” Namjoon is at a loss for your teasing words. Instead he frowns and turns his nose,“It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen it happen! I trust the moon goddess!”

“Mhmm, whatever you say~” You laugh, much to his annoyance. Namjoon sits down to eat his food and you take that as a sign for you to continue doing your job, “Enjoy your book and your food.”

You go to leave, but the king calls after you, “Can’t you stay here? Keep me company?”

You pause. His company wasn’t terrible, but you don’t want to stay and risk giving him a sense of false hope. He was still over 1,000 years old, and you were still a broke college student trying to pay her way through life. You’ve never been the type to play with someone’s emotions, and you weren’t going to start now. 

“That’s not in my job description.” You say. You almost regret your choice when you see his sad expression, but you steel yourself, “Have a good night.”

You leave him, not coming back until you’re making a lap on your rounds. And there - sitting against one of the large display cases - sits Namjoon with the book held loosely in his hands, his face holding a look of pure concentration and a ghost of a smile. He looks so peaceful and content sitting cross-legged on the hard wood of his exhibit, you almost feel bad for asking him to return to his sarcophagus. But that night he goes willingly.

And you can’t help but notice the glow of the necklace on your way out.

---

“Hey-!” You turn your head away from the water fountain, hearing Jimin’s voice call down the already noisy hall. You spy him at the entrance of the gift shop, but his attention is on a girl passing by who’s turned to look at him as well. He holds a box in his hand, but you can’t see what’s inside from where you stand. “Have you seen our new merchandise that just came in?”

“Uh...no, I haven’t.” The girl seems slightly uncomfortable. Either from his approach from the gift shop for her to buy something, or just from a guy who looks like Jimin approaching her - you don’t know which. 

You walk closer to the gift shop, curious yourself about the mystery box in Jimin’s hands.

“This - my lovely lady - is our newest piece of jewelry.” He opens the box and you catch a glimmer of silver and fuschia, “The necklace of King Kim Namjoon’s lost lover.”

Her face lights up initially when she sees it, but then her face drops and she shakes her head, “Oh, no, thank you.”

“You don’t want to buy it?” He asks. Jimin pouts and you can feel the immediate distress coming off the poor girl he’s talking to. 

“It’s pretty, but it’s a little expensive…” She tries to explain her situation - whether it’s true or not - but Jimin is relentless.

He looks around the hall to make sure no one is too close to listen - all but you anyways - and gets closer to her, “But don’t you know the legend behind the necklace?”

“Of course I do! King Kim Namjoon’s soulmate is supposed to wear this necklace.” She says.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Jimin makes a point of string into her eyes, unwilling to break their eye contact, “Legend says he prayed to the moon goddess herself to find his true love and she gifted him with her own special moonstone to guide his other half to him!”

He moves closer, so that the two are almost shoulder to shoulder just so he can give her a closer view of the product, “These pink stones are pieces of the King’s soulmate's heart, and they’ll glow brightest when his lover wears his necklace by his side!” 

“Wow...that’s so romantic.” You can see her resolve breaking, and you almost feel bad for her that Jimin is the clerk on duty today.

“Do you want to know the best part?” He asks, his smile reaching his cheeks and his eyes full of mischief that resemble love almost too closely. She nods enthusiastically and Jimin brings the box closer so she can see, “This gold string that holds it altogether represents their connection to each other. It’s a bond that can’t be broken by anything in the universe.” 

He carelessly throws an arm over her shoulder, just light enough to be seen as friendly. Though, it would seem the small trick is already working it’s magic on the poor thing. He squeezes her shoulder, “A lot of people believe that wearing this necklace will bring you closer to finding your own true love, so they package them with their own prayers to the moon goddess in hopes she’ll grant them eternal love as well.”

“Really?!” She asks. She looks to him as if he holds the whole universe in his hands, having been swayed by the blonde’s charm.

“Yeah!”

Just like that, you watch him lead her back to the counter and then wave her and her new treasure goodbye, holding a sticky note close to his heart. 

“Should you really be lying like that?”You ask from the store’s entrance. You’re more than disappointed to see yet another girl fall for the man’s charms

Jimin shrugs, “I didn’t lie. I just stretched the truth.” 

You walk up to the counter and snatch the note out of his hand, “Stretching the truth sounds a lot like lying.” 

“Don’t you have a monitor to watch somewhere?” He teases. You hand him the paper back and he sticks it in his pocket, bending below the counter to grab another.

You can’t help but think about what he said, and the legend behind the real necklace. You’ve heard a lot about the real thing, but all of it usually went in one ear and out the other as myth for you. Now that you know it’s real and far from a hoax, you have so much more that you need to know.  

Jimin pops back up with a stack of necklaces in his arms and sets them on the counter in front of you, pulling out a sheet of tags that go with them. You take the sheet from his hand and peel one off, handing it to him, “Can I ask you a question? About the necklace?”

“Sure, but Taehyung is the expert around here.” He says, accepting your sticker to place on the box in front of him.

“You think I don’t know that?” You laugh. You look down and peel off another one, “Is all of what you said about the necklace itself true? About the real necklace?”

“According to Taehyung it is!” He nods, not even sparing you a glance, “The moon goddess gave the King a necklace so powerful that only he and his lover could tear the bond if they chose to, but they never got the chance to meet.”

You hand him another sticker, but you stare into space as you do, “That’s...really sad.” You can’t help but think of the pain Namjoon had to go through knowing his soulmate would be by his side, but not knowing it wouldn’t be in his first lifetime. Not only that, but to wake up and then be met with someone who doesn’t even want to be his soulmate? You can’t help but think about how you’d act towards him if the roles were reversed and he were in your shoes.

You’d be devastated.

“It is.” He takes the sticker from you with one hand and flicks your forehead with the other. You flinch and pull back with your hand rubbing the spot he hit while he just smirks at you, “You would know if you ever listened to Taehyung.”

“Yeah.” You don’t even register your response before handing the sticker sheet back to Jimin and pushing off the counter, “Thanks Jimin! Have a good night, okay? Don’t call me at 2am like last week.”

“No promises~” He sings, going back to his work in front of him.

Later that night when you’re handing Namjoon his dinner, you sit with him to eat yours as well. The look Namjoon gives you as you calmly open your dinner across from him is almost too good to ignore.

“What are you doing?” He asks, slowly unboxing his own lunch.

You pay him no mind as you break apart your chopsticks to start eating, “You wanted me to keep you company, remember? Or is my presence no longer appreciated?” You pick up a clump of rice and turn your attention to him, eyebrow raised.

Namjoon is quick to shake his head and get started on his own food, “Of course it is!” 

You both eat in awkward silence, neither of you quite sure how to start a normal conversation. You’ve only ever made polite talk with him, and he only ever seemed to anger you no matter what he said. The only time you were ever civil was when you would show him something new.

Namjoon swallows his food and clears his throat, “Where would you like me to escort you tonight, my lady?”

You shake your head, “First of all, don’t call me ‘your lady’ or anything else other than my name.” You warn him, pointing at the tag on your jacket. He nods and you continue with your rant, “Second, I have some rounds to do, so you can join me tonight as long as you don’t bother me too much. Understood?”

“Yes, my la-” You narrow your eyes at him and he corrects himself, “(Y/n).”

The two of you finish your food quickly with some small talk made here and there. When you’ve cleaned up, you allow Namjoon to lead you to another exhibit he’s yet to see. All the way on level 1, he wants to see art he’s more familiar with.

“So, you said you asked the moon goddess for a chance to meet your soulmate?” You ask one you’re inside the museum.

“Indeed,” Namjoon nods, listening to you as he takes in the art around him, “I prayed to her one night on a full moon and I begged her to send me a lover. Someone I could confide in and care for, and would do the same for me.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “And instead she gave you the necklace?”

“No, she gave you a way to find me.” He says, a genuine look of happiness on his face. 

“Still-“ You feel a heat rising in your face and you can’t help but turn away from him out of embarrassment. Your eyes land on a painting of a couple and you feel the knife dig just a little deeper, “-you asked her for someone to rule by your side as your equal and she let fate tear you apart.”

He shrugs, “Maybe we weren’t meant to meet before now.”

His calm exterior bothers you. If you had asked for what he had, you’d be livid! He made a promise and that promise was misguided! 

“How can you be so calm?” You ask, allowing your thoughts to be heard.

Namjoon stops to look at a picture of a cherry blossom in the winter, it’s petals covered in frost. He smiles, “You said you read about me from one of your current books. The internet? What do they tell you of me?”

You chuckle at his misunderstanding of what the internet truly is, “Well, the internet told me that you were a very generous and beloved king. They said you were intelligent and caring.”

He chuckles, “I’m flattered.” He looks to you with an amused smile and you elbow his side carefully, causing him to laugh, “I’m only joking!”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, sure.”

Moving on to the next painting, he follows after you, “What else did your book tell you?”

“Well, it told me about your love for the arts.” You remember the extensive biography you’d found during your research. You didn’t read it in its entirety, but you did skim through it, “I read that you would host a festival every year?”

“Yes! Just something special during the summer seasons to enlighten everyone.” He has a far away look in his eye as he recalls the fond memories of his past life, and you can only begin to wonder what a day in his life would have been like, “I’d import goods from everywhere just to have the best for my people.”

“It would seem you’re truly generous, your majesty~” You tease.

“Namjoon.” He corrects you. You give him a quizzical stare and he only smiles in return, “If I’m to call you by your more common title, then you should feel free to use mine. I am attempting to woo you after all.”

“Right.” You smile awkwardly, remembering that you were actually trying to give him a chance. You’d actually been comfortable for once, that you hadn’t even noticed just how easy it had become to talk to him.

“And to really answer your question of why I am as calm as I am,” He pauses in front of a portrait of a town under the night sky, his attention trained on the light orb in the background of the painting. “The moon goddess is lonely herself by nature, so separated from our world. Just like this portrait, we see her, but we pay her no mind.” 

You stand beside him and take your own, clear look at the picture. If you would have looked at it on your own, your main focus would have been on the town and the people in the foreground. You would have glanced at the moon, but the orb and her stars were painted so faint compared to the rest of the picture.

“She came to me - and perhaps it was out of boredom for her own happiness - but she made me a promise. Promises are something I don’t take lightly.” He says. His words are spoken like a true king, but you can’t help but wonder if he himself truly means what he says. 

Namjoon turns to you with a peaceful smile, “Fate works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it’s best for us to wait and see what it brings.”

He’s ready to move on and you both bask in a new found silence as you continue to walk through the exhibit, stopping occasionally at a portrait here and there. Though at every painting you stop, you can’t help but look at the man next to you.

This was the man described in everything you read. This was King Kim Namjoon at his finest, and you were privileged enough to be there.

“Did you really house orphaned children?” You ask out of the blue.

He blinks at first, registering your sudden outburst. Though, when he does realize what you’ve asked, he smiles fondly, “I did. Of all the people we should take care of, our children and our elderly are most important!” 

His words are filled with passion, and you can tell he really cares about the people he’s talking about, “Our elders have shaped our generation, and we shape the generations after us. It’s only fair that we see they’re well taken care of.”

There’s a part of you that truly wishes to see what he was like as a ruler for yourself. You smile, “Well, I guess the internet doesn’t lie.”

“I suppose it doesn’t, though I’m probably not the correct person to ask.” He sheepishly admits, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

You nod in understanding. He really didn’t know much about this era or it’s advancements besides the kiosks in his exhibit. It takes you a moment, but you think of the perfect exhibit to introduce him to the 21st century. 

You take his hand in yours - effectively catching him off guard - and you pull him in the direction of the exit, “Well, allow me to educate you about the world I live in.”

Namjoon doesn’t even attempt to hide his blush this time around. He only nods and allows himself to follow you, “Please.”

You lead him out of the more classic featured art section and into the Modern Art Exhibit. This exhibit starts very tame, sticking to photography and modern painting styles before it morphs into free form art sculptures in the connecting rooms.

One sculpture is made of metal and it’s shape reminds you of a round mushroom. It's definitely interesting, but you don’t necessarily understand it’s appeal. It would seem Namjoon is confused as well.

“This is art?” He asks, his head tilted to the side as he follows his distorted reflection.

“It is.” You assure him. You had a feeling he wouldn’t get it either, you just wanted to show him what he was missing. You sigh, “I don’t really understand it either so don’t fe-”

“It’s so intriguing.” Namjoon says, cutting you off. 

“I’m sorry?” You ask, slightly confused.

“The structure and the colors, they’re so complimentary to the other! I don’t want to look away.” His entire being is completely enraptured with the piece in front of him. It’s so simple, yet his eye contact doesn’t break from his reflection. “I feel as though I am in a trance.”

You squeeze his hand - not even caring that your hands are still connected, “Well, there’s much more of this to see.”

A look of pure joy and elation blossoms on Namjoon’s face and you feel a faint flutter in your heart. You’d never noticed how bright his eyes shine until now, nor did you notice just how cute his dimples really were.

Are you really falling for him?

~ Read: Part 2 ~

[enragedbees]

@nicerockinkid @nicerockinsideblog @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Happy holidays, Nick!

I had a lot of fun writing this, and I really hope you enjoy it! I hope you don’t mind that I made it just a little bit angsty lol

- love, Anna :)

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pairing: intrulogical

warnings: self deprecation, food mention, alcohol mention, brief vomiting mention, mild swearing

recommended listening: yellow - coldplay

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

His chest heaved. His heart hammered. His legs pumped, wheels spinning, pushing faster and faster, trying in vain to catch up with the other bike ahead of him.

      The clouds shifted and the pavement glowed, baking in the hot air, deprived of the temporary relief of cloud cover. Logan squinted. The sun shone in his face. His hands were sweaty against the rubber handlebars.

      Up ahead, he laughed, and the sound blew past with the wind in Logan’s ears. The boy ahead disappeared around a corner.

      Logan turned, his wheels skidding against the shiny black asphalt. He jumped off his bike and threw it in the grass next to the other one, not pausing even a second and running after him.

      His sneakers pounded the asphalt, and then, the pavement. The other slowed to a stop at the crest of the bridge, the occasional car whizzing past on the other side of the concrete barrier, and let Logan catch up.

      He grinned. Two teeth were missing, one in the front and one on the bottom. “I won!”

      Logan pushed his glasses up and tried to catch his breath. “Maybe do it without the head start next time.” His smile was full of metal and rubber bands.

      He punched Logan in the arm, still laughing, and sat down on the hot pavement. Logan sat next to him, their legs draped over the side of the bridge, arms hanging over the lowest rung of the sidewalk guardrail.

      They gravitated towards one another due to sheer convenience. They were in the same grade at school. They lived close enough to walk to the other’s house. They didn’t have a whole lot in common, other than skinned elbows, and grass stains on their jeans, and a desire for companionship. And they both had bikes, and an entire summer to kill.

      The river below sparkled, ripples glimmering in the late afternoon sun. It might have been calmer, but dozens of people were out in speedboats and kayaks and jet skis, making waves and mixing up debris, turning the water to a warm weather greenish-brown.

      A hot breeze blew past, cool against the sweat on Logan’s arms and the back of his neck. Water lapped the riverbank and Logan thought about how nice it would feel to jump in the water. His mom would probably get mad at him for coming home all wet.

      “D’you wanna come over for dinner?” The boy asked. “My brother’s not gonna be home. We can play all his video games.”

      “Sorry, I can’t. It’s my stepdad’s birthday. We could go to the pool tomorrow, though.” Logan kicked the air.

      “I’ll ask my mom.” The boy stood up. He glanced down with a mischievous grin. “Race you to the park!”

      He took off, and Logan was left yelling in indignation and struggling to stand up, almost getting caught in the railing, but laughing as he chased his friend down the sidewalk.

 ~

       “Oh my God, Remus, get down from there!”

      Remus laughed, sitting on the top rung of the railing, overlooking the still, gray river. “Relax, dweeb, I’m not gonna fall!”

      Logan gasped as he started to slip, scrambling for something to grab hold of, eventually latching onto the support rail at his side. He turned back around, face just a little paler, still smiling. “See? I’m fine.”

      Logan breathed through his miniature heart attack. “Would you stop being an idiot? You’re very cool and fearless, now get down.”

      “Alright, alright, but I’m only doing this for your sake,” Remus said, already climbing over the railing, and almost falling again in the process.

      They sat on the concrete barriers on the side of the road, eating out of a brown paper bag of discount candy. Remus said they were “too cool” to sit on the sidewalk anymore.

      Remus was certainly cool, with his detention streak and his popular older brother in the high school and the leather jacket he got for Christmas that he hadn’t taken off in three months. And his perfect, flashing smile, that made every girl in their class ask him for help with homework, and his charming and daring and genuinely funny off-color humor that distracted them from how badly he did with academics. There was no doubt that Remus was cool. Logan wasn’t cool.

      But the view was the same from the concrete, so Logan went along with it.

      Remus rambled on about something, and Logan listened without having to respond. The wind blew, and Logan crossed his arms, wishing he had something warmer than his button down.

      He breathed. It was chilly, but the weather was exactly how Logan liked it. The air was cool and wet, the sky overcast in a sheet of puffy gray, looking as if it could start pouring at any second, but never actually breaking.

      Logan realized it had become quiet. He turned, seeing Remus smirking at him.

      “Sorry, I zoned out. What were you saying?”

      Remus looked toward the river again, still smiling. “Nothing.”

      “No, seriously, I want to hear.”

      “I honestly don’t remember.”

      Logan smiled. “Then what was that look for?”

      Remus shrugged, still smiling out towards the water, arms folded. “I dunno, you were thinking really loud and I wanted to know what about.”

      Logan leaned back. “I’m thinking at least a little about what the hell I’m gonna do for the project in Ambrose’s class.”

      “Oh my God, it was such a dick move to assign that right before the end of the quarter! Is he trying to fail us all?!”

      Remus launched into another tirade, and Logan couldn’t help but laugh. He was happy.

      They’d come out to this spot countless times. It was the only place they were truly safe, the only place they could be themselves together, away from Logan’s too loud, too crowded house that frustrated him to tears, away from Remus’ house that was so quiet and empty, it drove him mad. They were each other’s sanctuary. And other than the infrequent traffic, this place was theirs.

      Remus could have been anywhere he wanted tonight. He could be playing Call of Duty with the other popular boys on the basketball team, or walking around town with any girl he wanted, or possibly even at a high school party with real alcohol, where every upperclassman but his brother loved him.

      But he was here. With Logan. Like he always was. Logan didn’t understand.  

      “I promise you, Lo, one day we’re gonna get out of this small-ass town full of boring-ass people,” said Remus, lost in another in a series of idealistic monologues. “We’ll get jobs, and an apartment somewhere like California or New York, and –”

      “And a cat?”

      “Dozens of them! And maybe some dogs.”

      “Our landlord’s gonna love us.” Logan laughed.

      Remus kept going, painting this incredible future in Logan’s mind, full of a kind of happiness they couldn’t have here.

      And Logan was excited. They knew exactly what the future would look like. They had a plan, and it was airtight. All he had to do was wait to grow up, and they could do it. Logan couldn’t wait.

      But it was still many years away. Right now, they just had to focus on getting through middle school.

      Soon enough, the sky got darker and the candy ran out. The two dug through their pockets and searched the sidewalk and found just enough loose change for a small cheese pizza from the shop down the road. Not ready to go back to either of their homes yet.

      The wind blowing over the water grew bitter as the sun set, and Logan folded his arms, wishing again he’d thought to bring a jacket.

      A weight fell on his shoulders, and Logan looked over at Remus to find him suddenly leather jacket-less.

      “That thing gets way too hot,” he complained. “Hold it for me, will ya?”

      Logan smiled and put his arms through the sleeves, the fleece lining still warm, as the first few raindrops started falling.

 ~

       The rain poured hard.

      Logan sat, drenched and shivering in the dark, teeth chattering and hair plastered to his forehead. His jacket was now soaked through and provided no source of warmth, and his glasses were covered in water. From rain or tears, he couldn’t tell.

      Logan was miserable, but he wouldn’t move. There was nowhere he could go. Maybe he deserved to be miserable.

      It was no secret. Everyone saw the way Remus looked at him. The teasing, the protectiveness, the sacrifices and willingness to drop everything for Logan should have made it so clear. Logan couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to realize.

      But after everything Remus had done for him, Logan did nothing but break his heart, over and over and over again.

      Logan couldn’t see anything but the blurry shine of lights along the bank, and the churning of black water beneath the bridge. It was so dark, and he was so cold.  A tiny voice was nagging at him to get up and leave, that it was dangerous to be out, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

      He hardly noticed the headlights. The car moved slowly down the bridge, stopping a few feet from where Logan sat.

      The driver’s side door opened, then slammed shut. Logan heard a sigh.

      “What the hell are you doing?”

      Logan couldn’t respond. He couldn’t even look up. If he took one glance at him, Logan would start crying. Then he’d be saddled with trying to cheer Logan up, and Logan was so unworthy of his comfort.

      He stepped closer. “Come on, you’re gonna get sick. You get super bitchy when you’re sick.”

      “I’m sorry,” Logan whispered.

      “Come with me.”

      “I don’t deserve you.”

      “Yeah, we know. You say it like it’s not something we’ve known our whole lives.”

       Logan was definitely crying now. Maybe he had been already. Remus sighed again.

      “Come on, Logan. I’m not leaving without you, and I’m getting all wet now too, so you really kinda owe me this.”

      Logan bit his lip. It took a moment to stand, he couldn’t stop shivering. He finally turned towards Remus, and he could barely see him.

      But when Remus opened up his arms in invitation, Logan fell right into them.

      Remus wrapped his arms around Logan and held him tight. He was so warm, and he was stroking Logan’s hair, and Logan felt so safe. And he felt so guilty, so unworthy to be the one in Remus’ arms. To be the one Remus held this close, or spent all his time with, or dropped everything for when Logan needed him.

      He cried into Remus’ shirt, realizing his glasses were no longer on his face, not realizing Remus had slipped them into his pocket and not much caring. He cried silently in Remus’ car, wrapped up in a dry jacket they found in the backseat, heater blasting and radio playing Coldplay, with no memory of how he ended up there.

      Remus brought Logan back to his house, gave him dry clothes and some tea from a box Logan had left there who knows when. Remus held him on the couch and kept him warm and safe.

      Logan knew he could live a hundred of the best lives and never be good enough Remus. But he let himself be held. Even though he hated himself for it.

      Logan was miserable. But Remus held him, because Remus knew Logan needed him, and Remus took care of him, like he’d done their whole lives.

      And Logan hated himself for it.

 ~

       The weather should not have been this nice.

      The air was lacking in the usual hot, sticky soupiness of this time in the summer. The heat had broken earlier this afternoon, and now, with the sky turning orange and the cool wind blowing over the river, it was perfect.

      Logan was already homesick.

      He walked down the sidewalk, Remus in step next to him. There was no rushing, no clamoring to get there first. No hurry for anything to end before it had to.

      They made their way over to their usual spot, taking a seat on the still-warm cement. The highway behind them bustled with a little more involvement than was common.

      Logan looked over the river, deep blue for the first time in weeks and lazily reflecting the dying sunlight. He smelled herbs and dough from the local pizza shop carried on the wind. He laid his hands against the concrete, fingernails scratching at it absentmindedly.

      He turned. Remus stared out into the water, a soft smile on his lips, only surface-deep. But when Remus looked him in the eyes and that fake smile grew, Logan knew the intention behind it was genuine.

      Logan smiled back but turned away quickly.

      Everything between them was different. There was so much he couldn’t say, so much he wanted to say, so much he knew Remus would have liked to say but wasn’t cruel enough to do so. There was so much keeping them apart, and fighting the growing resistance was getting to be too much for Logan.

      That wasn’t the only reason he was leaving. He was leaving for a lot of reasons.

      It hurt, so much. At the same time that Logan was desperate for distance, craving a change in his relationship with Remus that might solve the distress they were in, the idea of leaving him was so painful that Logan wanted to throw up every time he thought about it.

      What would his life be like if he didn’t see Remus every day? How could he live like that?

      Remus wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have gone with Logan. It was a very competitive application process. Logan wasn’t sure if even he would be accepted.

      Remus said he didn’t want to. That concept terrified Logan, but he understood it wasn’t for everyone. Remus was a creative; he didn’t need any schooling to do what he wanted.

      The breeze blew through Logan’s hair. All his life, he’d been so excited for the day he would finally escape this town. But now it was really happening. He didn’t know how to feel.

      Logan wanted Remus to come with him. He didn’t want to leave him. He couldn’t leave him. What would he do without Remus?

      Remus probably would have been better off without him. Logan was always holding him back. Logan was so needy and Remus was always the one having to take care of him. He owed it to Remus to leave. He had to release him.

      He didn’t want to leave. No, of course he did. He wanted to leave. He had wanted to leave since he was a kid.

      Logan wanted to stay with Remus. Logan wanted to be with him and be happy with him and make him happier than he’d ever been.

      Logan wanted to kiss him again. He couldn’t. It wasn’t fair.

      Logan wanted to feel Remus’ arms around his waist, pulling him close, sliding his hands under his shirt and over his ribs and the small of his back, and he wanted to run his fingers through Remus’ hair and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t. Not again. It wouldn’t be fair to Remus.

      Logan wanted to kiss him and pull him close and breathe in the way he smelled and feel the security and comfort of his arms, and only pull away to gasp for breath, and see his tiny, bright, out of breath smile, and look into his eyes and –

      Logan’s stomach turned and his hands clammed up. No, he didn’t want that. Remus was his best friend. He didn’t want anything more.

      It didn’t matter that Remus did. It didn’t matter that Logan once again couldn’t get the thought of kissing him out of his mind.

      He ached. It was too complicated. Nothing could be done now, anyway. They didn’t have enough time. Logan had to leave with the knowledge that this wasn’t resolved, and might never be. That his best friend was gone. Irretrievable, at least not in the same way. It was over.

      “Do you want to go on a drive?”

      Logan looked over. “Where?”

      “Dunno,” Remus shrugged, still looking out over the river. “Does it matter?”

      Logan smiled. “No.”

      Remus turned to him. He flashed a grin. Pulled out his phone. “What time do you have to leave tomorrow?”

      “Six.”

      “We’ve got eleven hours.” Remus slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He went over to his car, looking back when he got there.

      “You coming?”

       Logan took one last look at the view – the deep navy ripples running over the water, the golden sky starting to fade to a soft indigo, the houses and storefronts, the glowing red target logo high on a hill across the valley, the lights of the fracking plant in the distance. He took notice of every tiny part that made up his town, the town he’d hated growing up in, couldn’t wait to leave, didn’t want to admit he’d miss.

      It wasn’t over. Eleven hours. Not enough time to fix anything. Not enough time to preserve anything. To strengthen anything that would last until he got back.

      Maybe enough time to be happy again. For a little while.

      Logan swallowed down his heartsickness, stood, and walked over to Remus’ car, refusing to look back.

      ~

       He hadn’t really expected anything in particular. But he didn’t expect to be back here.

      Logan couldn’t say he minded. His hometown was beautiful in the autumn.

      Logan stood, forearms resting against the top rung of the railing. The river was jade and peaceful. The shining sky was a ringing crystal blue, the clouds wispy and thinner than stretched cotton. The valley was brightened by red and orange and gold blanketing every tree and the grass underneath, each plant in that halfway state between full and empty branches.

      It had been awhile since Logan came here. It was too painful to come alone, and it was too painful to come here with him. For a long time, it was too painful to be with him at all.

      But then, it wasn’t.

      Logan wasn’t really sure what changed. He did, probably. It was like he woke up one day and realized he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Everything was wrong. Logan had been wrong. Or he just wasn’t right anymore. He still wasn’t sure.

      But with him, Logan didn’t have to understand. He knew it was right. When Logan finally, finally reached him, it was like he’d found what he had been waiting for his whole life. Everything fell into place.

      For now, at least. Logan knew that euphoria wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough the excitement and perfection would burn down, and they’d get calm and comfortable, and they’d have to work hard to maintain it.

      Logan was ready for that, though. After so long, so many years of pain and wrestling, Logan finally had him. Comparatively, keeping him would be a breeze.

      Logan heard footsteps on the pavement, and turned his head to see him by his side. Logan grinned and his chest warmed. He smiled back, and leaned against the railing, mirroring Logan.

      They stayed there together in silence, the air between them that was once full of unvoiced pain and tension now replaced by a quiet and content understanding. 

      He was still a little hesitant, and Logan couldn’t blame him. He’d had his heart broken enough in the past to warrant the uncertainty and distrust. Logan was doing everything he could to prove that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere. And it felt like it was starting to sink in.

      They weren’t in a rush. Logan didn’t know how long it would be before he got to see this view again, if he ever did. He knew he’d miss it, even if he was excited to go.

      Even if he came back, it wouldn’t be the same. Leaving marked a separation in his life; a divide between “before” and “after.” He was looking forward to the after, but that didn’t change his hesitancy to leave behind the before.

      Logan took a deep breath of the air. It smelled like home.

      This was right. He knew that.

      The journey was excruciating. But it got him here, and that was exactly what Logan needed, even if it took as long as it did for him to recognize that. Logan would do it all again if he knew he’d end up so happy.

      He had no idea what the future held. He had no idea how much of the past he wouldn’t be able to overcome.

But standing here for the last time, as Remus reached over and took his hand, Logan was ready to see.

[ffakc]

If I Only Had a Heart - a Denny Duquette story

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Shonda Rhimes and I may have thrown in a few lines from Grey’s Anatomy, which again, are all Shonda’s! This was inspired by my own real life job as a barista at a hospital and seeing the coffee cart on Grey’s. Hope y’all enjoy the fluffy goodness!

I stroke my boyfriend’s hair and kiss his forehead. His eyelids were heavy and the monitor beeped rhythmically. It was the first time since before being diagnosed that his heart was beating properly. I run my fingers over his stubbly cheek.

“You’re done, Denny. You’re done. You’ve got a new heart, baby,” I rub his hand, tears welling up in my eyes. Denny grimaces in his deep slumber. A large tube was jammed down his throat. I had just sat through the longest eight hours of my life, all I wanted was to hear Denny say, “I love you.”

“He did amazing, Mrs. Duquette,” Dr. Stevens stands in the doorway, massaging hand sanitizer into her hands.

“Why do you have to eating that when I’m NPO?” Denny teases.

“Mmm. Lo mein and honey walnut shrimp,” I wave the chopsticks in his face.

“Get fucked,” my boyfriend laughs.

“Language, Dennison,” Dr. Burke smiles as he places his stethoscope on my boyfriend’s hairy chest.

“Uh oh, full name. Look’s like Dad’s mad at me! Will you hand me my bag, doll face?” I grab Denny’s black backpack. “Let me see, let me see. Where did I put it?”

“What are looking for?” Denny ignores me, continuing to rifle through his belongings. “Ah,” he smiles at me, “There it is.” He drops his bag to the side of the bed and opens a small velvet box.

“What is that? Denny Duquette, you’ve done lost your ever loving mind!” I imitate his vaguely southern twang. He laughs heartily.

“You sound like my mother.”

“You’re crazy,” I kiss his ice cold lips.

“Crazy for you. Will you marry me?” Denny sighs, wheezing slightly, he always got short of breath when he was emotional. He gasps for air as a single tear falls from his eyelashes.

“Baby, breathe,” I giggle, cupping his cheek in my hand, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

“Hey, he’s okay!” Dr. Stevens rubs my shoulder. “I know all the equipment hooked up to him looks really scary, but it’s to monitor his condition. He doesn’t need machines to be kept alive anymore,” the gorgeous blonde woman smiles reassuringly.

“No more battery packs?” I grin through the tears.

“No more battery packs. He’ll wake up here in the next few hours. The restraints are so he doesn’t freak out and try to pull his breathing tube out, which will come out this time tomorrow. He’ll be in the ICU for the next week, and then we’ll transfer him to the cardiac treatment unit. Here, I have something for you. Well, it’s really for Denny’s recovery,” Dr. Stevens hands me a heart shaped pillow with a permanent marker for me to sign. “It helps with the pain from the incision and his sternum being cracked. Coughing or sneezing can feel like breaking a bone.” I wince at the thought and open the marker.

“My darling Denny, I love you more than words can explain. I can’t wait to call you my ‘husband’ when you get out of here. You’re mine, baby. Forever and ever.”

***

Denny opened the door to our cozy, one bedroom apartment.

“Home at last! Thank GOD!” he smiles, “It sure smells like home,” he inhales the sweet aroma of candles and a savory roast I had made in the slow cooker to welcome him home after a full month of recovering at Seattle Grace. He wraps his arms around me. I tilt my head up and kiss my boyfriend.

“I forgot how tall you are,” I smile.

“I know,” he whispers and strokes my hair. I run my fingers over the long, healing scar on his chest. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly to allow his skin to breathe after being bandaged for so long. He rocks me back and forth. I begin to shed a few tears. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I cry into his flannel shirt.

“Do what, baby? What’s wrong? I’m okay now!” Denny chuckles and kisses my forehead.

“Scare the shit out of me. I thought I was going to lose you,” I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks.

“I know, honey. I was scared too. Every single day, I was wondering if this would be the day I close my eyes and don’t wake up. You know how much I hate hospitals.”

“I know you do. I can’t imagine my life without you, honey.”

“And I feel the same. Heaven would be nice, but I wouldn’t be able to take you with me. But it’s over now. I have a new lease on life. I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you,” Denny squeezes me close.

“I love you, Denny.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” a coy smile crosses his lips. I kiss him, tugging at his soft brunette locks.

“Yeah?”

“Dr. Burke cleared me for physical activity,” he raises his eyebrows with his signature charming smirk that made me fall head over heels that fateful day in the Seattle Grace coffee shop.

“Hello there,” a gravelly voice speaks up. I glance up from my morning temperature logs and stock lists. “Are you open?” A tall, insanely handsome, dark haired man stands before me. A warm smile graces his tanned face. He has two black straps affixed to his chest over his slim fitted t shirt.

“Of course! I mean, yes, hi!” I stammer over my words, making a fool of myself in front of. My face reddens as I grab a marker.

“Hi!” he chuckles, matching my goofy tone. I can hardly think straight.

“What can I get for you?” I ask politely.

“I’ve never been here before actually. Nice place you’ve got-“

“Hey Denny!” Dr. Burke pops up behind the man.

“Hey, Dr. Burke! You caught me, I needed a little pick me up,” the man now named Denny winked at me.

“No judgment here, sir. Contrary to popular belief, people with heart failure CAN drink caffeine,” he holds up two slender fingers, “Just two shots of espresso with a Splenda, please.”

“You get your coffee, it’s on me today,” Denny says. Dr. Burke’s pager beeps loudly.

“That’s very kind of you!” he glances at the pager. “Gotta run! See you next month!” the doctor chugs the shots quickly and tosses the cup in the trash.

“Now, where were we?” Denny says. “Oh yeah, I’m Denny, you’ll probably be seeing a lot of me in the coming months because my heart is failing me,” he jokes.

“Hi Denny! I’m (name). It’s nice to meet you! You said your heart is failing you, hm?” I’m glad it wasn’t too busy, because I wanted to look into those hazel eyes for hours.

“Sure is. See these straps? They’re attached to a battery pack running this ol’ ticker. I used to be a ranch hand before I became a weak, sick bastard. Anyway, sorry, you didn’t ask for my life story.”

“Don’t apologize,” I grin. “I hear people’s stories all the time at this job. Kind of comes with working in a hospital, I guess,” I shrug, “What sounds good today, hon?”

“‘Hon’? Oh my, I didn’t know we were on that level yet! I’ve never been here before actually. What do you recommend?”

“Well, I’m pretty simple. This time of year, I really like a dark roast with some cream and a smidge of peppermint. But when I’m feeling like treating myself, I love a white mocha, iced with no whipped cream is my personal preference.” Denny cocks an eyebrow. Warmth gathers between my thighs.

“What if I did an iced white mocha with peppermint? That sounds like a candy cane in a cup! Let’s do a large, because why not?”

“Alright, so with Dr. Burke’s order, your total is $6.17. I gave you an employee discount, because I do what I want,” I tease.

“Hell yeah you do. Here, sweet girl. Keep the change,” he hands me a $20. I whipped around and begin preparing his beverage. Denny bit his lower lip as he looked me up and down. I grabbed the marker with a smirk and did something I’ve always wanted to do.

“There you go! I hope you enjoy that!” his hand grazes mine as he grabs the cup. He shoves a straw in and takes a sip.

“Wow, that’s tasty! What’s this? 406- Oh, you sly dog. I guess I’ll text you later, pretty little thing,” he blows me a kiss. I have a feeling this man and I are going to get along swimmingly.

“Did he now?” Denny begins sucking my neck and moaning in my ear. A shiver courses through my body as he cups my breasts in his massive hands. I missed my boyfriend’s touch. “Mmm, babe. Your hands are warm.”

“I forgot what it feels like to have a normal body temperature,” Denny chuckles, “Oh man, my blood’s pumpin’ in the right direction now, that’s for sure,” he gestures downwards. “Now, go put on that outfit that Daddy loves so much,” he gives my backside a light squeeze and I scamper to the bedroom. I slip out of my sweatpants and my boyfriend’s t-shirt. The smell of his cologne lingered on the fabric, giving me comfort on those nights I had to sleep alone. I put on Denny’s favorite crimson and black teddy and add a quick spritz of perfume.

“Alright, baby. I’m ready,” I call out to the living room. Denny kicks off his boots and ambled into the bedroom with a wide smile.

“Baby doll,” Denny clicks his tongue.

“You like?”

“Oh god,” he clutches his chest, “You’re going to make Daddy’s heart stop and it’s brand new,” he laughs. He pulls me down onto the bed with him and kisses me all over.

“I love you,” I moan.

“And I love you, Mrs. Duquette.”

***

“Oh baby! Oh god, baby girl, Daddy loves you so much,” Denny rasps.

“Oh Daddy, yes! Mmm, Denny, I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long,” I whine. Denny digs his fingernails into my hips as his eyes roll back. He finishes inside me.

“You feel too damn good,” he moans against my neck. “I didn’t last very long,” he chuckles. I smile and trace my hand over his abdomen as I breathe heavily, my whole lower body pulsating with pleasure. Denny pulls out gently and lays next to me. He wraps his strong arms around me.

“It’s so nice to feel your heart race and it’s not atrial fibrillation!” I giggle excitedly.

“Say it again,” Denny smirks.

“Fibrillation,” I dance my fingers over his scar.

“You sure sound sexy when you talk medical to me.” I bury my face in his lush chest hair.

“I never want to let you go,” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to. You’re going to be my wife remember?” he kisses my forehead and pets my hair.

“I absolutely cannot wait.” Denny rubs my engagement ring sweetly.

@iluvneganandjamie @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes

[confetti-cat]

My Attempts at Hiding Out on Halloween, in Haiku Form

this halloween I

will turn the lights off and hide

down in the basement

just 'cause it's awkward

to let people know you're home

when you don't have treats

if ghosts knock at our

door, we won't hear them since we're

watching a movie

in fact, I'm turning

up the volume really loud

so we don't hear them

oh wait but then they

could hear us, never mind bad

idea turn it down

(okay give me the

remote, you're not finding the

button fast enough)

this is where we are,

if you're looking for us, you

can come watch it too

driven down the stairs,

lowkey hiding since we don't

really celebrate

popcorn, not candy

will be our night's snack, this last

night of october

(and hey—tomorrow

stores will begin discounting

their candy, whoohoo!)