tanmoonlight

[tanmoonlight]

:D

[tanmoonlight]

How to meet your lieutenant's roommate, with whom he is secretly in love

Soap meets Ghost's roommate. She seems a little strange, but that's apparently what made Simon fall for her so hard.

(English is not my first language, and you all will see it. Please let me know if there're any mistakes or if there's something I can fix. I treat it as good practice for my English and creative writing (the last time I wrote something for fun was 5 years ago, so my writing skills are a little rusty). And of course, I love Ghost.)

Their vacations are short. It's just week to gather strength and lick wounds. Though even then, Soap knows that if Kate finds some trace of new threats to humanity, their vacation may be over before they start.

That’s why he decided it wasn’t worth coming back to the family house. Moreover, he won’t be able to rest if his mom notices the new bruises he got on his last mission. It’s also possible that his mother will call Price again to tell him how to properly take care of her boy. After she did this, he couldn’t look into his capitan’s eyes for a week, while Price couldn’t stop laughing at him.And although Soap loves his mom, he will not survive this same thing again.

That’s why he decided it was worth complaining to Ghost about it. Over and over again, like an annoying mosquito in a room.

But hey, in his defense, he thought Ghost would understand his problem. Soap seriously doubted that he would have a charming house in the countryside to return to after a long mission. It suits him better to hide in a cemetery with other ghosts as company. He probably has his own comfortable coffin, from which he gets up only at midnight to drink the blood of virgins.

He got an extra bruise on his arm for this joke.

That’s why he is only partially surprised when Ghost says he knows the place. At first, he thinks about a hideout or a motel for hours.

That's why he’s so surprised when Ghost asks him (which sounds more like an order) to join. Soap, being Soap, immediately agrees. He doesn’t even think about how awkward it might be to be locked together in one dingy motel room for a week.

But as they say (no one says that), it’s better to make decisions right away and regret them later.

Making stupid decisions, is not stopping the warmth blooming in Soap’s chest at such a sign of trust from the cold-hearted lieutenant. It’s a transition to the next level of their growing friendship.

(He wonders at what level of friendship he will unlock Ghost’s tragic backstory.)

To say he’s just shocked is to say nothing.He really expected some kind of dungeon without running water, but not this. The apartment is nice. Flat with three doors, a small kitchen with an island, and a charming living room.

At the entrance, Ghost tells him to take off his shoes and put them by the doormat. He goes deeper inside and sees more things that don’t make any sense. A thick chemistry textbook is next to the sink, along with a Star Wars mug and one pink sock on the couch.

Pink what?

When the rest can be explained as Ghost’s twisted hobbys, it can’t be. Maybe in his free time, the lieutenant reads collage textbooks or blushes while watching Kylo Ren take off his helmet (don’t ask him how he knows who Kylo Ren is), but the sock?Hell will freeze over before Ghost wears something pink.

But before he can start racking his brain trying to connect all the facts, Ghost asks him if he wants some tea. Like a good host, which of course he isn’t based on how forced it sounds.

And Soap wants fucking answers to questions he will never ask because he wants to live. He doesn’t want a fucking tea made by this speaking Mount Everest. But like a polite Scot who they both know he isn’t, he opens his mouth and says:

- umm.. Yes, please.

Ghost nods once and starts the horrifying process of making tea. He takes three mugs, including the Star Wars one. When Soap stupidly starts to wonder if Ghost will drink from two cups, the front door opens.

He almost throws his bag on the floor and reaches for his gun, only to remind himself that he’s in civilian clothes.

- Easy, sergeant - Ghost’s voice makes him relax and he hates how he reacts like a damn Pavlov’s dog to the bell. But at the same time he’s happy that whoever opened the door is not a threat.

- If it’s your other PTSD bullshit- soap does a double take at a woman’s voice coming from the door. Woman visits Ghost?!- I swear to God I’m calling...- she stops as she notices him.

She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and... she is pretty (and younger than he expected but will never say this loudly). Even though her hair is disheveled, she has dark circles under her eyes, and the crooked collar of her shirt... she looks beautiful. As if she had just rolled out of bed after a long night of...

No..NO! He’s not going there. He’s not thinking about her long l..

Soap almost jumps out of his skin when Ghost puts the mugs on the island with a bang.

Fuck, he forgot Ghost was there.

And he stared at his friend/ girlfriend? Like a creep. In his defense, his tired brain just lagged after seeing first pretty girl after that long time. But his mom raised gentlemen, he will apologize later. Her and Ghost to make sure he survive that night.

The girl recovers from shock faster than him (which is humiliating for him and all the military training he has undergone).

For a moment, the three of them stand in an awkward silence that only he seems to be only one who feels nervous. Ghost looks at him as usual, that is, in a terrifying stillness. She, on the on other hand, looks him over from head to toe without any signs of shame. Finally, after what the animals in the zoo must feel like, her eyes meet his and recognition shines in them.

Which shouldn’t be because he’s sure as hell he’s never seen her before.

Maybe Ghost told her about him?

And then she steps forward, smiles wider than the devil himself, and holds out her hand to him. He carefully takes her hand in his own and doesn’t even marvel at how soft it is. He’s more worried about Ghost’s gaze burning holes in his head.

-Simon didn’t say he will bring a friend from the team - when she talks, her eyes never stop exploring his features—and never said he had friends.

- I have friends- Simon grumbles.

Soap remembers to take his hand out of her grip before Ghost decides he don’t need friends any more.

- Now I see it. - she says and then introduces herself- I’m his roommate.- she adds at the end

....they are not together?

But before he has time to ask this question and probably get himself a death sentence, she passes him and goes to Simon.

- I started to think you were dead - she says when he takes the bag off her shoulder and puts it on the table.

- Would you cry for me? - there must be something wrong with Ghost’s voice, it should never be so soft.

- I would if you bought me this lucky cat I showed you.

- NO.- Normally, cadets faint under this look. Why not her?

- Then you lost your chance to have me as a weeping widow.

- I think I will survive that.

Then you just stand on your tiptoes, grab Simon by the lopels of his jacket, and kiss him on the check (he’s wearing that creepy mask).

Soap’s jaw didn’t have time to hit the floor when it was all over, and you turned around, sat down on the stool, and took a long sip of tea.

It’s hits him like a brick that all these things that don’t fit Ghost are yours.And it hits him like a truck that he hasn’t introduced himself yet.

- I’m John MacThavis, you can call me Soap. -he says this with a slight blush on his cheeks. The twinkle in your eyes at his code name makes him blush so hard he has to hide behind his steaming mug.

Then Simon’s hand brushes against your back as he takes the seat next to you. At this moment, John recognizes a glint of softness in Ghost’s eyes and knows that you are more unavailable than Pentagon.

[tanmoonlight]

[tanmoonlight]

Trophy Father's Trophy Son

Summary: Six years after Leon left you for Raccoon City, he shows up on your doorstep. In his sudden appearance, he learns of yet another reason why he never should’ve left that day. 

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K Words

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death, mentions of depression/burnout, swearing, mentions of trauma

Tags: RE4/DI Leon, Dad!Leon, happy-ending, Leon breaks down, but he also gets his happy-ending, not proofread!

A/N: I am finally back! I never want to experience another hurricane again :) anyways, this was another request. I put a bit of a spin on it, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all for supporting my work once again! <3<3<3! Song title from "Trophy Father's Trophy Son" by Sleeping With Sirens.

Six years. Six long, miserable years that seemed never-ending. Caught in a loop of trauma and loss, never once finding an ounce of peace, Leon wondered if he’d ever found a way to cope with what happened on September 28, 1998. He lived his life like a machine, oiling just enough to wake up in the morning before he’d eventually crash and break down at night. 

Six fucking years of living a life not for himself, keeping himself alive just to play the good agent. The best agent, willingly seated at the President’s beck and call, constantly wondering what would happen if he decided to swap out his usual, “Yes, sir” for one giant, “Fuck you.” Would they reprimand him, consider his work too valuable to do anything less than a mark on his record? Or would they bite the bullet and put on right through his skull, like he’d done to the countless innocents infected by corporations that lined the thick pockets of government officials and campaigners? 

Leon didn’t know anymore. Hell, did he ever really know anything in the first place, considering his memory always loved to backtrack just 24-hours before he would no longer consider himself a man. 

September 27, 1998. 

The day he walked away from you, watching you cling to the post of your family’s front porch, wailing in the rain as you begged him not to go. He could still remember the gut-wrenching feeling of getting in his car, sitting stiff in the driver’s seat as he tried to make up his mind on whether or not to leave you behind for Raccoon City. He’d been so excited to get the assignment, raving on for weeks about how he wanted to get the chance to investigate the Arklay Mountain murders. 

He’d barely graduated from the Police Academy back then, coming home to you with a much more muscular physique and a ‘good boy’ attitude. He’d matured more than you could’ve imagined in just a few months, and that included his view on your relationship. Leon would’ve dropped to one knee back then in an instant, if he thought you’d say yes. Which is what he thought you were going to say when he asked you if you were going to move with him. 

The breakup was inevitably coming, that much he knew by the way you faltered over your words and looked away from him. You were in your last year of college, and the university nearby didn’t offer a program for your major.

The guilt on your face when you’d declined still hurt him to this day, six years later as he sat beside Ashley Graham on the plane back home to the U.S. This last mission in Spain stirred up more emotions from the past than he was comfortable with. Seeing Ada again, the woman he’d tried to let distract him from his heartbreak only to end up hurt again when he thought she’d fallen to her death, brought him right back to that unlucky night. Learning Krauser, the man whose rigorous training had nearly killed Leon and given him a sense of purpose, had abandoned his morals and joined the enemy made him seriously wonder if the life he led would ever have its upturn. 

Watching Luis die, a man whose last minute efforts to be the good guy ended with a knife to his back, was what Leon considered to be the last straw. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. His life would not be reduced to following a “democracy” truly fueled by those who held the most cash in their pockets, not the people that resided within its borders. 

And for the first time in six years, the second he stepped off the plane and dealt with the hours-long debriefings and mandatory quarantine, he allowed himself to revisit the past. He hadn’t even gotten a full night’s rest before he sat at his kitchen table, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wondered if this truly was the best idea. 

He wasn’t the same man that you remembered, the bright-eyed rookie long gone and leaving behind an emotionless husk held together by more glasses of whiskey than truly necessary. A workaholic, bordering on alcoholic, that refused to admit to himself or those around him that he was not okay. 

“Here goes nothing,” Leon huffed beneath his breath, brushing the blonde fringe from his eyes with a shaky hand. He opened up the civilian record system he wasn’t necessarily granted access to, having called in a personal favor with Hunnigan. Slowly typing in your first and last name, he scrolled through countless hits before he found you. 

You’d never left Boston judging by your driver’s license and voting records. You’d switched addresses a few times, having recently just moved to a better part of town within the last six months. He felt a twinge in his chest, the feeling unfamiliar to him, as he searched for anything that would cause his search to halt. Marriage licenses or divorce decrees were absent from your record, bringing a sigh of relief from his lips. 

Leon only let himself briefly glance at your tax returns to gauge your occupation before the guilt of diving too deep into his ex-girlfriend’s sensitive information began to make him feel nauseous. He clicked out of the program, shutting his laptop before he eventually decided to finally get some sleep. USSTRATCOM had so generously granted him a few days off after too many near-death experiences for one mission. 

He spent the first thirteen hours of his time off dead asleep, sleeping so deeply he didn’t even dream. And when he woke up, he booked the first flight to Boston. With only an overnight bag and your address scribbled on a sticky note, he made his way “home” for the first time since he’d left. 

And now, Leon sat in a rental car parked in front of the brownstone townhome, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the minutes dragged on. He’d been sitting here for an hour, glancing back and forth from the bustling road to your front doorstep. What would I even say to her, he thought to himself as he leaned back in the driver’s seat, frown forming on his face. 

It wasn’t like he could exactly waltz up to the door, knock and say, “Hey, sorry I’ve been AWOL for six years. The government enslaved me, but I miss you and I want you back.” 

No, that wouldn’t blow over well. 

So now, he was left empty-minded and utterly petrified of your reaction. He wondered if maybe there was another man in your life, now. Or, if you had long closed the chapter of your life that included him and left the book on an old, dusty shelf in your mind never to be read again. Leon prayed, something he never did, that you’d find it in your heart to reread the story you used to love just one more time as he got out of the car. 

Slowly, he made his way up the concrete mat and onto the doorstep, taking in the painted door and double deadlocks. Smart girl, he mused internally before he took a shuddering breath. For a second, he thought about abandoning ship. You would never know if he just turned around right now and walked away, giving up all hope that he’d once again find happiness. It would be so easy. 

No, I need this. I need her. 

Leon knocked a few times before he took a step back, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his windbreaker. He didn’t trust himself to wear another leather jacket, considering the one he’d worn and lost in Spain cost more than he was comfortable spending again. 

“Coming!” Your voice rang out from just behind the door, making his stomach twist and turn into knots. You sounded the same as you had when he’d known you, and it only made the nerves twisting in his stomach all the worse. 

He briefly glanced at the potted plant beside the door, making a mental note of it in case he lost the minimal lunch he’d eaten thanks to his nerves. His blue eyes, a duller blue than past versions of himself, flitted right back to the door when he heard the locks click. All the air in his lungs swept away with the afternoon breeze when it swung open, and your head popped out. 

The smile on your face stayed for only a few seconds before it dropped, leaving behind an expression he could only describe as utterly shocked. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to believe your own eyes as you opened the door slowly to reveal your full figure. 

You were the same height you’d been at twenty, but your curves were more prominent. You looked soft around the edges, just like he’d come to like over the years. And if anything, you were just as beautiful, if not more, than you were the day he’d left you and what remained of himself behind. 

“Leon?”

 Asking hesitantly, your words sounded airless and no louder than a hushed whisper. You looked him over from head-to-toe, making the seasoned agent squirm just a bit under your gaze. He’d been through bootcamp and bio-terroristic attacks, for fuck’s sake, yet the way you looked at him like you’d just seen a ghost made him feel like breaking. 

Leon licked his lips, looking down at his boots against the pavement as he tried to think of the best greeting possible. Something to ease you into his presence and not get himself kicked off your front porch. He settled on a simple, “Uh, hi.” 

You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and in “lazy day” clothes as you looked up at him. You frowned, and he watched your eyes flit around his face. He could feel your gaze burn on the few beauty marks and moles he had, like you were checking their authenticity. 

“You’re.. God, I-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. Leon could see the reels turning in your mind as you took a step closer, holding your hands out in front of you. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before you touched his arm. “You’re.. Alive?” 

That threw him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down and felt your soft hands brush over the slick fabric of his windbreaker. He could feel your fingers, as warm as he remembered, press into him. “I, uh, yeah?” He let out an awkward chuckle, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction. 

Your frown deepened, causing him to mirror your expression as you tried to find your words. You stammered a bit, stringing words of surprise together before you could finally form a coherent sentence. “I saw the news,” you started, swallowing harshly. “That they’d bombed Raccoon City.. I thought.. I thought you were dead.” 

Oh. 

It made sense to him, now. The government had painted quite a perfect lie, sorrowfully reporting there were no survivors of the incident that flattened an entire US city in a matter of seconds. Of course, you would think he was dead. It was only natural. 

“That’s a difficult story to explain,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting inside his pockets before he pulled his hands out. He’d made it this far, so far, it was too early to throw in the towel. “I can try to explain, uh. Can I come in?” Leon gestured to the open door behind you. 

You winced a bit, face twisting into a look of discomfort as you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea-” 

“Mommy?” 

A soft voice sounding from behind you snapped both Leon’s attention and yours back to the open door. He couldn’t see its owner until you quickly turned around, and the sight before him caused his heart to fall flat right out of his chest and onto the floor. 

A little boy, probably elementary school aged, peered curiously up at you then around you. He looked at Leon, child-like bewilderment evident as he rocked back and forth on the door ledge. He looked just like you, mixed with someone else also standing on this porch. 

“Scotty, baby,” you started, your back to Leon but unease clearly evident in your voice as you bent down to eye-level with the little baby. “I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?” 

“You left the door open,” Scotty giggled, like he found the situation to be funny as he looked around you again. “Who is that?” 

Leon swallowed as a small finger pointed right at him, shock and other emotions tormenting deep inside his chest. Of course, she has a kid, he internally cringed. If only he’d scrolled through your tax return just a bit more, he would’ve seen that you claimed a dependent and not found himself in this situation. He didn’t speak, only looking away from the boy and back to you. 

“This is one of mommy’s friends from work,” you lied perfectly through your teeth, ushering the boy back inside. “Now, go on. I’ll be back inside in a minute.” You shut the door behind your son once he reluctantly disappeared inside, your shoulders slumped. Turning back towards Leon, it was clear that you were bracing for the incoming questions. 

If the fact that the little boy had a few traits just like Leon didn’t tip him off, the name definitely would click something in the depths of his mind. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked back at you, and he could only ask one thing: “How old is he?” 

You sighed through your nose, wrapping your arms around your midsection as you stared at the ground. “He turned six in June.” 

June, Leon thought. He counted back on his fingers, mumbling out the months until he got to the ninth one. September. His trip down memory lane had turned into yet another day he could put on the calendar as “life-changing”. 

I have a son. 

The thought was fleeting, but it shook every inch of Leon’s core as he stood before you, frozen in time. Sure, at twenty-one he really hadn’t been the most responsible about “family planning” or even bothering to reach for a condom when the box was right on his nightstand, but he never would’ve thought that this would happen. 

And then the soul-crushing guilt came crumbling down on him. He’d left you for Raccoon City. When you were pregnant. With his child. 

“When did you find out?” His voice cracked when he asked the question, blue eyes stinging with the threat of a substance that hadn’t rolled down his face in what felt like years: tears. 

You bit your lip, looking back up from the ground and into his eyes. The apologetic look on your face only made him sniffle, confirming that Scotty was indeed his. “Two days after you left,” you whispered. 

“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Leon’s voice now sounded hurt. If only he’d known just two days earlier, he never would’ve left. Hell, his life may have turned out somewhat decent instead of the clusterfuck it currently was. Maybe, he’d still be a cop. “File for child support, something?” 

“Leon,” you let out exasperatedly. “I thought you were dead. I spent the entire nine months mourning you and trying to figure out what to tell him when he grew up and asked where his father was.” 

Leon ran a hand over his face, looking up at the sky as he tried to will the tears not to fall past his lashes. He couldn’t cry now, because if he did, he’d never stop. “I never should’ve left,” he whispered, taking a deep, controlled breath to try and get a grip on his emotions. “I should’ve just stayed there, with you.” 

You frowned and took a step towards him again, placing your hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “You can’t blame yourself,” you tried your best to give him some sort of ease. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. That isn’t your fault.” 

Leon swallowed hard, finally looking back down at you. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few hot tears roll down his face. “I can’t even tell you what I went through,” he choked out. “And all this time, all these years, I had a kid? I had a family that thought I was dead?” 

When he started to tremble, it felt like a thousand needles had driven through your heart. Clearly, in your time apart, something had broken Leon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as you rubbed his back. “Hey, hey,” you whispered against his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.” 

His grip around you could be considered crushing as his forearms dug into your ribs, pulling you into him with all of his strength. You could feel his tears staining your shirt as he buried his face in your neck, hiding himself as he displayed his emotions for the world to see. 

“I have a son,” Leon choked out through his shuddering but soft sobs, words muffled by your skin. The pain cut deep through him, torturing him as he realized he’d missed six years of his child’s life. For all he knew at this moment, Scotty had grown up believing that his father was dead. Whether or not you’d told him the “truth”, the damage had already been done. 

“We have a son,” you corrected him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as you held him in your arms. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. The man you loved had suddenly reappeared, cheating death in your mind and abruptly entering your life. And before you could carefully tell him, the truth had been revealed. 

“You can meet him,” you started, still speaking in a soft, soothing tone as your lips pressed against the shell of Leon’s ear. “You just can’t tell him who you are, right now. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?” 

He nodded against you, sniffling as he tried to reel himself back in. This was not how he’d expected this trip to go. But maybe, there was some light at the end of Leon’s tunnel, after all. 

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Leon grunted as he limped down the corridor of the airport, feeling every ounce of pain radiating all over his body. Not even seven hours after having gotten the tar beat out of him by Maria Gomez, and getting infected with the T-virus just to be vaccinated not long after, his body definitely wanted to give out on him right now. 

But, he didn’t have time to lay out on the floor and give his aching muscles a rest. He was already late, thanks to an unwanted delay in flight plans, and he had a forty-five minute drive to his destination. The event started in thirty minutes. 

The man didn’t bother to change out of his mission gear, instead abandoning his tactical vest and holsters in the backseat of his Jeep after he’d gotten his luggage. His beloved and dearly departed Ducati’s keys laid abandoned as well, a sore reminder of his short time in San Francisco. Leon sped out of the airport parking lot, taking off for the suburbs of D.C. with one thing on his mind. 

He didn’t even bother to tell you that he’d landed, instead doing as best as he could to get there on time. He owed it to you, and to Scotty, to at least show up for this. 

After getting caught in a roadblock, Leon did something he never thought he’d do. He’d flashed his DSO badge to the officer, mumbling something about “official business” that would definitely make his way back to his supervisor, considering he’d gotten out of a ticket for going 60 in a 45. But right now, he didn’t care. 

He finally pulled into the parking lot of the high school, circling around three times before he found a parking spot. He almost forgot to lock the Jeep as he rushed inside, making his way towards the gymnasium. They’d just cut off the lights, making it a lot harder to find you in the bleachers until he saw you waving your arms. 

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, just gonna scooch past you real quick,” he spouted off to every person he cut in front of, inching his way down the row of plastic benches until he got next to you. Leon sat down with a huff once you’d moved your purse from the spot you’d saved him, resting his hands on his knees. “Did I miss anything?” 

“Nothing important,” your daughter, Bella, huffed as she scrolled through the phone she was always glued to. “Nothing but boring speeches so far.”

Leon reached out, yanking it from her hands and tucking it into his back pocket. He held a hand up when she tried to protest. “Ah,” he interrupted. “Pay attention. If I can make it, you can get off your phone for twenty minutes.” 

You laughed softly as she scowled and looked back towards the stage. Leaning against your husband, you interlaced your fingers with his. “How’d it go?” 

“Awful,” Leon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t be surprised if I’m purple under my clothes.” 

Before you could reply, the principal took her place on stage again and announced the start of the senior class. After reading off names, she finally got to the K’s. You and Leon both leaned forward in your seats, eyes glued to the caps and gowns until you saw the head of floppy blonde hair making his way towards the podium. 

“Scotty Kennedy,” the woman announced. You could feel Leon squirming beside you, trying to hold in any noise until your son had actually accepted his diploma. “Following in his father’s footsteps, he will be attending the DC Metropolitan Police Academy in the Fall.” 

As soon as the diploma touched Scotty’s fingers, Leon leapt up from his seat. Usually not one to draw much attention to himself, this was definitely one of those rare moments he expressed his excitement. Using two fingers to whistle loudly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out towards the stage. 

“That’s my boy!” 

[tanmoonlight]

gojo satoru believes that all good things come in twos.

he was the second half of his best friend, after all— part of a wandering soul somewhere else in japan spouting some bullshit about retribution. he hasn't quite been the same since 2009.

it wasn't always this way. never before had he been so endeared, so enchanted by the prospect of keeping things together just for the sake of it. 

he remembers clearly the day this hyperfixation started, actually: a warm summer sunday in sagae with you dragging him along through the local fruit market. you picked out a bag of cherries, holding up a twin pair of them and dangling them in his face.

"they're sweeter here," you told him with such a fascinated expression, completely enamoured by the ruby jewels held between your fingers. and he savoured that moment, as mundane as it was, because your eyes were shining in adoration at such a perfect pair of cherries. 

(also, when you ate them your lips stained a pretty shade of red that made him salivate.)

he realized that things felt more whole in pairs: two hands cupping his face, two charms dangling from your neck, two cherries infinitely sweeter than one. two hearts, two souls, two people who both belong and don't belong in such a wicked world cradling each other with a shared breath.

gojo felt lonely without another— in the time between geto's defection and your reunion, he missed the feeling of being the other half of a duo. nanami buried himself into work. shoko fared no better. he was utterly, shamefully alone.

he was a new person when you returned to him. a lot of things had changed. but despite the distance and the slow untwining of your lives over the years, you knew gojo to be stubborn more than anything.

"two dogs are better than one," he argued when megumi was first learning how to control his cursed technique.

"he's just a kid. making him responsible for one, let alone two, is crazy!"

"i'm telling you, megumi is no pushover! you'll see."

he was right. sometimes (and only sometimes) he does know better. two was better than one.

you could see it in megumi's face when both dogs pounced on him, licking him and wagging their tails. in fact, it was probably the first time you'd ever seen the kid smile at all.

so you went along with gojo, indulged him whenever he reached for two things instead of one: two boxes of juice from the convenience store fridge, two fingers locked together while you walk, two earbuds split between you so you can sing together. two hearts, two souls, two blue eyes fluttering shut when he leans in to kiss you.

when he asked you to move in with him, you weren't surprised in the least. you were also not surprised to see how he set things up around the house, nothing lonely and everything in a pair. gojo feels like you think he's insane. he might be.

being with you made him feel as normal as gojo satoru could ever feel in this life— breathing no longer hurt like water filling his lungs. it was as natural as you basking in the rising sun every morning. living didn't need to be justified anymore. he wasn't obligated to be the strongest. he just needed to exist in your warmth.

things make sense in twos. the world is less gloomy with you by his side.

it's unspoken between you, but you oblige to his strange fixation anyways: two slices of peanut butter on toast in the morning, two stars atop a christmas tree, two picture frames on every side table. two hearts, two souls, two people being each other's reason to keep pushing.

he thinks he loves you a foolish amount. knows he shouldn't be putting all his eggs into one basket. he might be untouchable, but you aren't.

it's inevitable. one day, gojo satoru will be alone again.

and it's a fair exchange for power; a curse he wishes he was never born with. if he had the choice, he would have picked you over limitless power without a moment's pause.

he doesn't have the choice. unlucky.

all he can really do is let you cup his face. feed him cherries. argue over how to raise megumi and tsumiki and live in your little fantasy of pretending to be a family. all he can do is cherish the time you have left together, regardless of how long. all he can do is hope you'll say yes.

two hearts, two souls, two matching rings (one white, one black; he was poetic that way). one meant for him, and the other meant for you— a promise to keep and to break.

he doesn’t care. you and him make the best pair he can think of, no matter how fleeting.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[tanmoonlight]

the faces namjoon makes when he’s embarrassed 

[tanmoonlight]

Sangria Wine

⊸Pairing: BTS Yoongi ⇆ Reader

⊸Genre: Vampire| CEO| Medical| Fluff| Angst| Slight Horror

⊸Summary: When rent is cutting short and you’re at your last resort. Your job has been cutting your hours slowly, and bills were stacking up. You walk into a donation center, blood donating center for the undead to earn some quick cash, but…the thing is…you’re afraid of needles.

⊸Word: 6.1K 

⊸Rating: teen; mentions of blood and phobia of needles/blood, fainting, vampiric activity, and mentions of mate.

⊸ A/N: Based on my experience with needles and how I’m a whimp and pass out. This Yoongi is pretty cliche, but I mean who doesn’t love a good angsty Yoongi. Thanks for reading!

→ Masterlist

Keep reading

[tanmoonlight]

jin’s smug face vs jungkook’s childlike happiness i LOVE

[tanmoonlight]

okay listen wonder is about finding someone you and ur ‘flower’ beings to bloom

her is about when u finally find the ‘one’ you flower is fully bloomed and ur in love

however tear is about how that love breaks apart and the person you relied on is gone so ur flower starts to wilt

and finally with answer… you realise that the most important thing is to love yourself which is represented by the heart even a wilted flower can still be beautiful (not so perfect, but so beautiful)

and those are the stages of loving yourself

[tanmoonlight]

completion| myg

| hybrid au | college au |

pairings: min yoongi/reader, future bts/reader (platonic)

In which you're looking for a roommate and find more than what you originally bargained for.

part one 》part two 》part three

Warnings: mild awkwardness, mentions anxiety, more innuendos, mentions hybrid discrimination

A/N: I have finally updated, hopefully this isn't too much of a hot mess. Also, Jintro is here,, Epiphany has arrived and perhaps I cried.

-

The move had gone well, if one ignored the mildly awkward air that settled between the two housemates. Yoongi had been wondering when the discomfort would set in between the two hybrids, and it seems it didn't take very long for them to fumble in uncomfortably dragged out periods of silence. Neither of them tried too hard to talk to each other, and from what he could tell, (Y/N) was more anxious than intentionally rude. Her pretty, surprisingly well manicured hands shook while handing him a drink and her body radiated a sort of stiffness that resembled that of a bristling cat.

Not that it was too far from the truth.

He could also smell her anxiety, the bitterness stinging his nose, reminding him of his previous visit where he'd also detected her unease. The smell was not as overpowering as one would expect, perhaps because it wasn't overwhelming her, but it did peak out from behind the natural sweetness she exuded. Even with the stiffness, she was still quite pretty and he found himself admiring her a little more closely out of curiosity. She was dressed quite comfortably, in jeans cuffed a few times at the ankles and a baggy pale blue sweatshirt. She was quite tall, he realised, standing at almost his own height.

She must've felf the heat of his eyes on her back because she noticeably stiffened but did not look back. He did not know if it was to save herself or himself from further awkwardness.

The next few hours were filled with tense glances and muffled apologies on (Y/N)'s behalf every time she bumped into him. She helped him move his things in and allowed him time to set his stuff up. The last thing they did was establish boundaries for each other as roommates. That had proven to be quite easy, as she was quite lenient as long as no property was damaged.

"I don't mind visitors, not that I have very many over, aside from Anaya," He remembered her saying, tilting her head slightly, "So you're welcome to bring friends over, Min Yoongi."

That would not be happening soon - at all, he thought to himself. He did not want to expose her to the sextet of lovely but agonisingly loud men he called friends, lest he wanted to startle her.

Once all was seemingly fixed, (Y/N) excused herself to run some errands, leaving Yoongi on his own with a newly added key to his Kumamon keychain. He allowed himself to slump over on the couch, laying in silence, no screeching of chairs and baby rattles, no obnoxiously loud bulldozer footsteps from above or cacophonies of warbled moans. A tiny smothered screech of relief left him, along with strings of thankful words, startling the fat cat seated on a large black beanbag.

The only response he got was an insulted mrrow from said fat cat, who quickly resettled himself and went back to sleep.

-

A few weeks had passed since Min Yoongi had moved in and it was going far better than (Y/N) expected. He was tidy enough; although she did occasionally catch a glimpse of scattered clothes on his floor and a few empty boxes he had yet to get rid of, but she kept her nose out of that, he wasn't disruptive at all and Poe seemed to tolerate him, at bare minimum. They didn't see too much of each other, which might be for the best, she mused, as they were both unbelievably busy. (Y/N) spent most of her time managing her studies as a sophomore, her job at a clinic, the weekly volunteer work at a hybrid shelter all while attempting to keep herself sane. She'd been lucky to have a few days off when she'd met Yoongi, but that was long over and she was back on relying on the carefully masked neuroticism caused by her awful sleeping schedule to keep her running, as well as the chewy breakfast bars and cold coffee that ran through her veins.

Yoongi was not much different than she was, he'd find himself spending hours working on unfinished songs to upload to his SoundCloud and finishing hastily written essays for a music theory class as well as making sure his senior project was as proper as possible. On top of school, he juggled a paid internship at a small entertainment company, working on projects that were not quite to his liking. The artists he was tasked had a tendency of being snobs, despite being newbies, and lacked any kind of vision and passion. He could not count the amount of times he'd wanted to slam his head through his keyboard, praying for a concussion to avoid listening to that disaster. In short, the nights he could have spent sleeping were spent perfecting his music and others, as well.

A good portion of their interactions were centered around extremes. They'd find themselves both emerging from their respective caves to refill on coffee and maybe, nibble on a cookie. Conversations, while not necessary, became common.

"Why are you still up Min Yoongi?" She questioned, bleary eyes peering from behind thick lenses. Her ears were noticeable droopy, indicating her exhaustion.

"Why are you still up?" He responded, opening the fridge to grab a bottle or two of cold coffee. She looked far more tired than he did.

She hummed in response, sipping on her own scalding beverage, "What're you working on now?" She pushed forward a plate of Mexican sweet bread, encouraging him to sit down.

He noticed she had a tendency of doing that, gently coaxing him into taking breaks longer than the three minutes it took for ramen to cook.

He sat across from her, opening a bottle of his coffee and taking a long sip before answering, "I'm trying to finish a track for one of the idols I'm working with," He paused, leaning over to grab a piece of sugary bread, "I could have been finished a few days ago but he insisted that it wasn't good enough for him." His words became grumbled towards the end of his sentence, eyebrows scrunched up gently and lips forming a small pout. His ears twitched in tandom with his tail as he nibbled on the bread.

Their late night coffee runs were quickly becoming something (Y/N) looked forward to, despite the dragging of her eyelids and the slumping of her body. For one, late night coffee was heavenly, even if it resulted in her crashing after an hour or two of shakiness. Second, it allowed her an opportunity to truly get to know the enigma that was Min Yoongi without the anxiety that swallowed her up during full consciousness. While she often expected him to ignore her questions, he never did. He would answer after some deliberation, his deep voice coming slightly fragmented from the frequent pausing he did in his speech. She found that he was quite warm, especially when he spoke about his friends and music. His eyes would soften from steel to oozing dark chocolate. When he got particularly passionate, he'd begin to enunciate his words with appropriately vivid hand movements while she listened.

In all, Min Yoongi was not as intimidating as she had expected. If anything, he was quite cute when he pouted.

"Is this the same guy from last time?"

"Yes, it is. With the amount of time he spends insulting my work, you'd think he'd piss off by now."

"What is his name? We don't want problematic favs in this household."

". . . I'd rather not disgrace your virgin ears."

"I heard you cussing someone out over the phone because they woke you up."

"Don't poke the sleeping bear, its the law of the jungle." He tsked, reaching for more bread, tail flickering gently in direct contradiction to his words.

"I can't believe you're hiding this man's identity, now I have to go through your company's website. BigHit was it?" She sighed wistfully, pulling out her phone.

"If you go blind, that's on you."

"I can't get any blinder than I currently am! If anything, he'd be doing me a favor. I wouldn't have to pay to see." She momentarily poked at her thick lenses.

"Capitalism at its worst. You'd rather be blind than pay to see."

"Prescription glasses are surprisingly expensive okay? Not that you'd know, with your fake ass five dollar hipster glasses."

"This is what the government wants, to pit the middle class against each other over monetary value."

"Are you sure you're not a liberal arts major? Also, stop distracting me, I'm really trying to find this dude. . ."

After a moment of contemplation, Yoongi gave a faux defeated sigh, "Since you want to know so bad, I'll tell you. But I'm not responsible for the loss of brain cells you may experience."

"I can't lose what I don't have anymore."

"Well, I lost five years off my lifespan just thinking about it."

"Min Yoongi, its just a name."

"Alright. His stage name is G-Spot Genie." He dropped the monstrosity with little to no regret, sipping his coffee.

(Y/N) said nothing for a moment, giving him enough time to correct himself, "Please say sike. Please."

Yoongi shrugged, perfectly encapsulating the nonchalance of a big cat.

"I. . . take it back, it is possible to lose what you don't have. Because he must've lost his damn mind."

He smirked, "So, what are your woes? Given that you look like you're about to pass out."

He wasn't wrong, but then again when didn't she look stressed. It seemed as though she was permanently set on overdrive, constantly bustling about either typing away on her dinky laptop or taking notes and reading ahead for her classes.

"I have a group project." She pushed out, her head falling to rest on her palm, "Just my luck I'm stuck with people who specialise in procrastination. Can they not do that on their own time? Also, you'd think people would know by now how to answer an e-mail, but apparently they don't know how to do that either!"

"What class is this for? Is the deadline soon?"

"The group project is for my hybrid studies class. We have a few more weeks to get it done but two weeks have already gone by and they've yet to actually plan with me. Plus! They keep shooting down my ideas and this one girl keeps stomping all over my last nerve." At this point her tail began to flicker quite violently in agitation and her eyes regained some semblance of frustrated awareness.

"What'd she do to make the kitty cat hiss?" The words left his mouth quite quickly, dry but playful and a part of his died internally. Much to his luck, she didn't catch it.

"For one, she was all over the guy in our group and I mean, all over. I was surprised she didn't pull his pants down right then and there, and I mean, her promiscuity is not the issue, ya know?" She was talking a bit fast, nearly rambling, "It's just kind of rude to act as if I don't exist, I'm also not into exhibitionism. When she isn't ignoring me, she's glaring at me and attempting to insult my intelligence. Like, I breathed??"

Yoongi, while not finding amusement in her frustration, did come to find her ranting kind of cute. It was endearing to see her lips form a pout while her face morphed into something other than indifference.

"Sometimes breathing is the biggest insult. She probably feels threatened or something, is she a hybrid?" Hybrids were known to be quite territorial.

"No, she's human, well they're both human." At that Yoongi exchange a brief look with (Y/N), words were not necessary to express that particular point. As much as hybrids have been engrained into society, the response was not always positive. Humans could still legally own a hybrid, further pushing the notion that they were inferior to humanity. Hybrid trafficking ran rampant and hate crimes were fairly common as well. In all, not everyone saw them as people.

"Well, (Y/N), you still have some time left so you should actually get some sleep before you pass out. Don't be stupid, you can finish working on it tomorrow and then tell your professor that they didn't do shit." He shrugged, voice coming out as a soft rumble. While his voice offered a suggestion, his eyes gave a command.

She sat up a little straighter once she caught the look in his eyes, they were sharper than before. A small shudder ran through her, "You're right, I'll do that. Now, please stop looking at me like that, you look constipated." She pushed aside the instinctive need to obey and focused on subduing the animal in her.

His nose scrunched up a bit as he sighed, taking one last sip of his coffee, watching as she finished up and set the cup in the sink. After a brief exchange of goodnight Min Yoongi, don't stay up too late! & goodnight (Y/N), he watched as she padded away with all the elegance of a feline. Once her door shut, he turned back around in his seat and mentally prepared himself to go back and stay up a few more hours.

Thank whatever deity was above that he didn't have class tomorrow, he could sleep in all he wanted.

[tanmoonlight]

them: what time is it

me:

[tanmoonlight]

What’s the mood after seeing Infinity War

[tanmoonlight]

A Brief Note

hello! (& thanks to anyone who decides to read this)

Firstly, i want to thank everyone who's taken the time to read Completion. I truly had no expectations to receive any form of attention and so I really appreciate it! This is my side blog and I'm still trying to understand how to properly use it and I've been unable to respond to comments using this account. So I apologise for that! I'll get the hang of it eventually. Also, the tumblr app has been messing with my formatting? Ah, i have to figure that out as well, it keeps removing the "read more" thingie://

Secondly, I haven't set a schedule for myself regarding updates. I think I'll set a general idea to update once a week, although that may be delayed this week because I have a few things to do. I don't want to push out a chapter that I'm not at least slightly satisfied with. I hope to improve my writing style as I continue to write on this blog and welcome any and all constructive criticism available.

If anyone has any suggestions for what you'd like to see in Completion in the near future please let me know! My "vision" for the series is not restricted to something strictly chronological, i want it to resemble more of snippets of their life together. Like a collage of sorts.

This got so long,, i hope everyone has an excellent day!

[tanmoonlight]

Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s reaction when they won the daesang award

[tanmoonlight]

I love Hoseok so much??? Like he’s always so bright and joyful and full of hope, trying his best to spread positivity and make us happy even though he’s human and he’s allowed to feel angry, sad, annoyed. And for what??? For ppl who don’t appreciate him enough??? He’s giving us more than we deserve and not getting back half as much as he needs to :/

[tanmoonlight]

yoongi: idk any karaoke songs…im worried also yoongi: [KARAOKE MODE ACTIVATED]

[tanmoonlight]

completion | myg

| hybrid au | college au |

pairings: min yoongi/reader, future bts/reader (platonic)

In which you're looking for a roommate and find more than what you originally bargained for.

part one 》part two 》part three

warnings: briefly describes anxiety (reader is a worry wart), hints at hybrid discrimination, some profanity, more dumb dialogue

thank you to every one who read the first chapter! i really do appreciate it ((: 

-

"That was quick, was it another Craigslist creep?"

"It was some guy named Yoongi. He's stopping by tomorrow."

A slightly pensive look crossed her face, "I've heard that name somewhere. . . He's coming by tomorrow? You want me to stay over then?"

"Don't you have class tomorrow though?"

"Eh, I can make it on time, I'd rather be here with you when the dude comes over."

(Y/N) hummed in response, her tail swishing gently, "I appreciate it, 'Naya."

"Don't sweat it! I don't want you to get snatched up by some dude off Craigslist, that's kinda lame. It's right out of a horror movie or something." Anaya responded with a smile.

"Just how many 'scary' videos have you been watching to give you that idea?", the hybrid grumbled at the glint in her cousin's eyes, attempting to ignore the slight discomfort at the undeniable truth behind her words. Looking for a roommate had turned out to be as stressful as she expected, it caused her constant paranoia at the thought of welcoming a random stranger into her home, even if it was for less than a day. The additional appendages of hers made her susceptible to an unbelievable amount of leering stares and patronizing words in public, she could only imagine what encountering a bigot - alone, behind closed doors - could lead up to. A short puff of air left her lips from years of pent up frustration, tasting something like gasoline as it climbed up her throat before getting completely pushed down. Only then, after a minute or two of becoming engrossed in her mind, did she realize she'd left Anaya rambling.

"They're based off true stories, well, most of them! You can't even judge me, you spend hours watching cat videos, which seeing as you're part cat, is really weird . . ." The young woman continued to rattle on and on as (Y/N) sighed for the nth time today.

"Your hot ass breath is contributing to global warming." She snarked, albeit affectionately, rising from her position on the ground and padding over to the sofa. She plopped down next to the woman and sat contemplatively for a minute or two. Should she lay her head down on her lap? They were family, not necessarily by blood , but family nonetheless. Not to mention that Anaya was so outwardly affectionate she'd have no qualms with (Y/N) seeking it from her. All while stressing herself out, her face remained completely neutral, her posture slack and relaxed. A tiny groan crawled its way up her throat as she thoroughly continued to break into nervous sweat over something so minimal, further frustrating herself.

Upon noticing her hesitation, Anaya quickly became side-tracked, "Can I pet you? Or play with your hair?" Her eyes glimmered excitedly as she patted her lap.

Wordlessly, the cat hybrid gently positioned her head on the woman's lap, her body still a few seconds away from engaging in fight of flight. Almost immediately, Anaya began to gently massage the velvety black ears causing the tension to drain out of the hybrid's body.

(Y/N) eventually found herself dozing off, the movie Anaya was watching became nothing more than white noise. In her last moments of consciousness her mind flickered sluggishly through thoughts. 'I fed Poe already right. . .? Ugh, I have a report due in a few weeks, I need to get on that . . . I wonder what Min Yoongi is like. . .'

-

"I have countless regrets, and this is one of them," the bitterness of his iced Americano soaked his words as he shut the door of his current apartment. The apartment complex perfectly embodied a Monet, it was promising from afar but as soon as you got close, you realized how much of a shitfest it was. The area was nice, he supposed - not that he spent much time outside sightseeing, he'd rather be recording and producing - and the building itself was nice but the landlord was anything but nice. A complete dickhead who found pleasure in tormenting his tenants, especially the not-fully-human ones. And just his luck, he got stuck with equally as obnoxious neighbors. One of which found great satisfaction in engaging in public indecency every single time they stepped out of their home and Yoongi had the world's greatest luck of witnessing it.

At this point, this place was not all worth the amount of money he was spending, so he'd been on the hunt for a decent place to stay for a few months and it seemed as though he may have finally found something. As reluctant as he may be to possible share a house with a stranger, the rent and commodity of the house was something he could not pass up, at least from what he'd seen in the pictures "(Y/N)" had posted.

The commute to the house wasn't terrible, a little over fifteen minutes via car. The location was quite nice, he noted. The neighborhood had a fairly warm and welcoming air to it, and from what he could tell, the house was also well taken care of. He wondered briefly just how old (Y/N) was and his mind immediately supplied him with the mental image of two drastic situations. With a grumble and a quick shake of his very empty thermos cup, he stepped out of his car and began to shuffle towards the door.

"Time to see just how hybrid friendly this place really is," he muttered, patting the pocket of his jeans to ensure he had his wallet on him before knocking on the door. Both his sets of ears could detect the rushed stomping of steps approaching the door as he prepares himself one last time.

The door whipped open so fast Yoongi was surprised it didn't get ripped right off its hinges. A rush of cold air greeted his face as his eyes landed on the visage of a simultaneously excited and yet wary woman, whom he assumed was (Y/N). Her dark eyes seemed to take him in and a noticeable gleam settled in them. She was cute, her hair was coiled and framed her face nicely. Her eyes flickered from his face to the ears on his head and she smiled. Yoongi remained passive as the woman continued to smile. A slight stretch silence met both their ears before Yoongi cleared his throat. Immediately the woman snapped out of her stupor and smiled sheepishly.

"Hello! You came to see the house right? Come inside please!" Her voice was warm and she turned around before belting out, "(Y/N)! He's here!"

He stepped inside and unconsciously began to scent the air. So the woman who answered the door was not (Y/N), and the scent of the house further proved this. The home permeated a distinctly different smell than the woman who answered the door, for one, it was not fully human. His eyes trailed over the walls and furniture in a tasteful color palette that showed a fairly minimalist decor style, until he turned his head towards the sound of soft foot steps from somewhere down the hall. And from said hallway emerged (Y/N) in all her hybrid beauty. The woman had a pair of black ears seated on a head and a fluffy black tail that curled delicately at the tip, and while her person was quite the epitome of kittenish cute, her eyes were sharp and her pouty lips settled into a slight frown. She looked mildly murderous despite the lack of clear hostility.

She approached him and held her hand out for a handshake, "Hello, Min Yoongi-ssi. I'm (Y/N) and that was Anaya, would you like something to drink before we begin?" Yoongi noted the slight lilt of an accent in her steady voice. His eyes questioningly flashed to her smaller hand before he grasped it briefly in return and politely declined her offer. She nodded gently before beginning her tour. Both hybrids were quiet as Yoongi took in the house, occasionally asking questions about the house and the neighbors. The more he was allowed to bask in comfortable silence as he eyed the house, the more he was convinced he'd be stupid to not take it.

"Yoongi-ssi, if you don't mind me asking, are you currently in school or do you work?" The cat hybrid questioned, her eyes pinned on his face. Min Yoongi was intimidating, the moonlight kissed face of his set on permanent indifference and his eyes were deep and dark. She was having a hard time hiding her anxiety both because he was quite handsome and because of the dominating air that surrounded him. She may have been a predator hybrid but she was still susceptible to the fear that pricked at her nape in the presence of an apex predator, which he very clearly was judging from the slight stoutness in his ears and tail. She forced away the instinctual fear and wariness once again as she continued to gaze at him.

"I'm in my last year of uni as a music major. I work a few side jobs to pay for rent, (Y/N)-ssi." He responded with a slight bite, his eyes shooting over to meet her own. He found himself expecting a patronizing leer and some form of insult - either direct or indirect - but instead found none of that in her eyes. She remained passive as her mouth formed a small ‘o’.

She gave a soft wow, "You must be very talented Yoongi-ssi. I am far from musically inclined," She sighed wistfully before further questioning him, attempting to grasp his personality and reliability. She nodded before becoming serious once more.

"I have one last pressing question, Yoongi-ssi," She paused, looking awfully serious, "How do you feel about cats?"

At this Yoongi shot her an incredulous look, "Self-love is important (Y/N)-ssi."

"Truer words have never been spoken." She responded, faking awe before saying, "Well, there’s nothing much to show you, unless you want to see Poe’s litter box. I could give you time to think about whether you want it. You can always contact me once you’ve decided."

Yoongi paused and gave her a short nod, "I'll take it."

A slightly surprised look came over her face before she nodded, "Really? That's great! When would you like to move in?"

"Is next Friday alright?" Truthfully, Yoongi was more than ready to move out of his hellish apartment complex. If he could, he’d move in right then and there. There was only so much more he could take from his voyeuristic neighbor and sadistic landlord. Not to mention the house was an opportunity he couldn't pass up and it was at a great price. His pocket wouldn't be as deprived as it had been the past few months and he'd be living with someone who radiated calm. 'She's also very pretty. . . And smells amazing.' That, however, was not something he wanted to linger on too much.

"Alright! I look forward to getting to know you better Yoongi-ssi." (Y/N) could hug Min Yoongi right now, he just saved her from more agonising interviews with less than adequate contenders. Honestly, she might cry once the male hybrid left.

Shortly after, farewells were exchanged and Yoongi was on his way. 'She must be angel, she just saved my remaining brain cells from deterioration.' He thought fo himself, 'I have a lot of packing to do.'

Once her front door had been shut, (Y/N) nearly collapsed from the rush of emotions. No more awkward roomie interviewers for her. She could finally take down the stupid Craigslist post and scrap her flyers.

Was this what freedom felt like?

Before she could relax too much, Anaya burst into the living room, nearly tripping over herself, "How'd it go?! I hope it went well because he was pretty cute! Not to mention, y'all would be the perfect couple, you both have a serious case of resting bitch face. Ugh, I can picture it now: you in a lacy white dre-"

(Y/N) gave an indignant squawk, "Calm down Naya! You're going to puncture a lung."

Anaya tsked, "What's a lung good for anyway?"

"Perhaps breathing? But who even needs that. Anyway, it went well. He's moving in next week."

Anaya shot her a look, "I knew you'd find your Craigslist prince! Seriously though, he's a whole cutie! I have an event planned if y'all don't get married."

(Y/N) glanced at her phone and clicked her tongue, "Don't you have a class to get to?"

A look of mild terror crossed her face as she proceeds to collect her stuff, "Shit! You better tell me everything when I come back!"

A small snicker leaves the cat hybrid as the front door slams shut. It was time for a nap.