#and a lot are residual hurt from all the times i had to wish for SOMEONE LIKE ME to be seen
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no bc like. we get a queer show. we get a queer show and it's openly queer. the whole thing. the entire fucking thing. no coding. just straight up queer. and not just gay men. it's not just white gay men.
like.
it's so insane to me this show exists. that we're allowed this. i can't... it almost feels too good to be true. and i've watched it, so it is true. i know it is true i have seen it all with my own eyes.
but i'm so starved for any basic fucking thing that. i just. wow. nonbinary person? ethical non-monogamy? i got? i got to see that? and it's not a bad thing it's not made fun of?
god.
i just... it's so wild that something so simple just can't feel real because nobody else will allow something like this to air.
#representation matters bc like. i can't even believe the truth while im *watching it happen*#and i feel like. what have i done to deserve seeing someone nonbinary in a show? without questioning or demeaning or anything?#christ almighty#our flag means death#this isnt even about the new season btw#its just. yeah#wow.#LIKE regardless about quality of show or anything. it's just so WILD that it even EXISTS#and it SHOULDNT be wild it should just be the norm but it ISNT so it's just.#wow. yeah. i dont know how to put it anymore im just feeling a lot. im feeling a lot of feelings and some are good.#and a lot are residual hurt from all the times i had to wish for SOMEONE LIKE ME to be seen
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Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve
Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 16.6k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once.
He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget.
Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day.
The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb.
His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face.
“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”
Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop.
It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically.
“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”
Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away.
“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was.
“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp.
“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”
“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year.
After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going.
“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face.
“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored.
The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all.
Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant.
“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”
Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly.
“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”
Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless.
“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall.
Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions.
There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks.
Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner.
Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her.
Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence.
Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~
Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.
Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat.
“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something.
In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent.
Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman.
“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile.
Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?
“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”
“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”
“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him.
“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”
“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”
Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively.
“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”
Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way.
“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”
Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway.
“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”
Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach.
“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”
Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus.
The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room.
She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.
“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”
Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways.
“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly.
“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”
“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose.
Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands.
“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes.
“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”
“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”
“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”
There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest.
“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction.
“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus.
Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before.
Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices.
Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased.
Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas.
“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”
It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones.
Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr.
Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen.
“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor.
The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi.
“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?”
Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact.
Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain.
The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that.
“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”
“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”
Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.
“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”
“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”
Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes.
“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic.
“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe.
“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.
“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase.
“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”
“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features.
Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa.
“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”
Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon.
“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes.
“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?”
For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt.
“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”
Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.
“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”
“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”
Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten.
“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly.
“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”
“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”
“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”
“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”
“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”
Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts.
“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”
“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall.
“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door.
“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?”
“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah.
“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk.
“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”
“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”
“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place.
Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday.
“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her.
“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing.
“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”
“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back.
“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out.
“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead.
“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”
Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious.
“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave.
“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly.
“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes.
Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall.
“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas.
Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame.
“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”
“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully.
“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.
Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat.
“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”
“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”
“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago.
“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”
Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear.
“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day.
“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door.
Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace.
Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”
The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo.
Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view.
Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully.
Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger.
“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement.
“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”
Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones.
“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”
“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”
Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep.
“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day.
Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.
“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt.
“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling.
“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her.
Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on.
“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house.
They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?
“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”
“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”
Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.
“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip.
“Y/N–”
“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”
Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions.
“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking.
“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”
The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning.
Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks.
It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer.
“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”
With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower.
“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her.
“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”
“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”
“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant.
Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon <3
Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧
Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-
Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!
Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out
Joonie 🐺: I got it.
Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever.
“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?”
“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”
“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel.
“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”
“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”
“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house.
“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort.
She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed.
When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t.
Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N.
“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”
They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids.
“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”
“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”
Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday.
“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa.
Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk.
“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater.
“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head.
Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down.
“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face.
Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth.
“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist.
“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell.
“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else.
“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking.
Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event.
“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme.
“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her.
This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies.
“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips.
“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name.
Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest.
The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin.
Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car.
“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”
“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”
Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.
“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”
“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”
Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again.
“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise.
“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up.
“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug.
“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat.
Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids.
“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him.
Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart.
“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”
Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi.
Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.
She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week.
Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room.
The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room.
“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”
“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker.
“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby.
Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down.
“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly.
Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes.
“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake.
“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”
Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second.
She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night.
“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately.
“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating.
Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm.
“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face.
“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember.
“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”
She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh.
“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough.
“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”
Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away.
Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him.
“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside.
“What’s that, silly girl?”
“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”
Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.”
With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.
“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”
Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them.
“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress.
“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest.
“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”
Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision.
“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke.
“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her.
“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”
“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”
Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes.
“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.
“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced.
“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”
“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”
The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing.
“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now.
Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was.
“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”
“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”
With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful.
“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”
How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?
Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was.
“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet.
His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again.
“More. Kiss me more.”
Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth.
Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”
Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot.
“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids.
With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it.
Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone.
“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.
“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.
“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”
“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”
Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable.
“I love you, too, angel.”
Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally.
On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.
Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi?
Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997 @cerulean1riz
Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!
#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts ot7 x reader#hybrid au#bts ot7 x y/n#bts hybrid au#bts fic#bts au#bts hybrid x reader#bts hybrid fanfic#namjoon fanfic#seokjin fanfic#yoongi fanfic#hoseok fanfic#jimin fanfic#taehyung fanfic#jungkook fanfic
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AITA if I hate how everyone in my house does the dishes?
I hate doing dishes. We all do. Genuinely it is the worst task available in the house, always, no matter what. I don't like judging people for how they get it done, because the fact that they did it at all is amazing and often it's more than I can say for myself.
That said-
I do them about 50% of the time (being generous to my housemates w/ this number), and it's split between three of us. When someone else washes the dishes, there's always something wrong with it. There's always a significant chunk of them that didn't actually get clean (especially pots and pans), there's often things in the dishwasher that should be hand-washed (like Teflon-coated pans, oversized cutting boards that stop the water from functioning, or things with dried-on residue), the amount of water that gets wasted is ridiculous (the water is running THE ENTIRE TIME even when not in use), scrub brushes and sponges are left in pots full of filthy water for days on end in between loads, the sink is always left with gross wet food in it afterwards, everyone gets frustrated with the task before it's finished, and I end up having to re-wash half of it anyway.
It feels condescending to outright tell them I want to teach them how to wash dishes, but sometimes I really feel like they genuinely don't know how.
I don't know how to bring this up without being rude.
I went to my partner recently and said "is it okay if at some point I show you my way of washing dishes? I think we would save a lot on the water bill." And she sounded hurt and said "I think the way I do it is fine..." so I dropped the topic.
We were raised differently- I was raised in a drought-afflicted area, by parents who expected me to become a housewife; she was raised by parents who had other things to worry about besides teaching all their kids every nuance on household chores. I don't know quite so much about the other roommate, as they work overtime and prefer to keep to themself- they have a lot of other priorities.
I genuinely appreciate that they're both actually contributing. I've lived with people who don't, and I'll very gladly take this instead any day. But I wish I didn't have this nagging anxiety every time I pick up a plate or a spoon, having to triple-check if I can actually use it or not... and I know the amount of water we're using as a result of this is an actual problem, both for our collective carbon footprint and for all of our bank accounts.
AITA for getting so upset about this? would I be TA if I were to bring this up again?
What are these acronyms?
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Fuck it Friday ✰⋆⁺
hello my dearly beloved djdjdj, I wanna apologize for being terrible at reading what yall have been tagging me in, it’s just that I’ve had to deal with a lot of residual stuff I’ve been postponing for some time and as one might imagine it’s taken me a minute to go through it all (I’m not even done yet), but pls worry not, I will read it all, so pls don’t stop tagging me!!!!!!
point in case, tagged for tonight by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 & @wildlife4life ✨ thank you my loves, pls be patient with me I beg of u 😭
either way, I’m dead set on finishing Dear Maddie this week, so here’s another snippet from chapter 4 (they’re 10 total, and I’ll be posting all 10 at the same time).
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"Dear Maddie (...)
It was months until we had our actual, real first date. He had recently broken up with Taylor and I’m guessing he needed to blow off some steam. A part of me warned me not to go out with him in that state, that I shouldn’t step up into a place of pain just because I wanted him so bad, but I didn’t listen. The part of me that longed to kiss that smile of his was slightly stronger. Maybe it was wrong – or it is still –, but I’m thankful that I said yes. If I hadn’t, our story would have been postponed, or maybe it would have been inexistent. I don’t like to think about that, it makes me really upset.
The date was really stupid. Buck wasn’t in the best mood, and maybe I was in the mood a little too much. Not THE mood, just- a loving mood. I showed up at his door in a suit, carrying flowers and chocolates. You know who opened the door? Albert. I almost gave them to him. Thank God Buck’s too tall, and too blonde to mistake for anyone else. Still, embarrassing. He laughed – Albert. He thought it was really funny because Buck was wearing jeans and a sweater. My heart almost broke, but Buck was faster. He spotted me from the stairs and changed into a suit himself. I really appreciated the gesture, but I couldn’t help but notice that it was wrinkly. Like he could have never thought that I’d go all out, or that I’d take him somewhere nice, and I can’t help but wonder, even to this day, if that says more about what he thought of me… or what he thought about himself. Both of them hurt, but for different reasons."
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tagging in return @jeeyuns @thewolvesof1998 @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fortheloveofbuddie @butraura @firemedicdiaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @loserdiaz @puppyboybuckley @honestlydarkprincess @smilingbuckley @bucksbackwardcap @bucksbirthmark @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @tsunamibuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars & @try-set-me-on-fire pls let me know if you wish to be removed from this!!💗
#I’ll tell you what tho#it’s gonna get sadder#buddie#911 fox#911#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 tv show#evan buck buckley#buck x eddie#buck and eddie#911 abc#buddie wip#buddie fic#buddie fanfic#buddie fanfiction
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I wanted to share this reddit post with you. The comments are primarily in his favor so I don't have any screenshots to share. It's just crazy. So this guy was asking if he was in the wrong for asking his girlfriend to use a different body wash. Here's the original post:
The main thrust of this post is, I am allergic to nuts and my girlfriends bodywash contains almond oil. It isn't life threatening for me to come in contact with it but it does cause hives. I asked my girlfriend (Jess) to change the body wash she uses as I am getting hives from residue of her body wash in the shower.
Jess was initially fine with it after a small back and forth but has since spoken to friends and believes that I am being too controlling, as do her friends. My friends are mostly neutral with a couple saying that I need to "nut up" and let her use whatever she wants.
A little bit of added context is that we recently decided we wanted to move in together and decided to do a "trial run" as Jess still lives with her parents and I rent my own place. So it's easy enough for her to move in with me for a few months to see if living together full time works for us.
It's never been a problem before now as I've never had a reaction from touching Jess after she uses it, but I am having a reaction from the residue that is left in the shower, usually on the removable shower head which I need to use to get clean because I'm a big dude and just leaving it up there doesn't reach everywhere.
Jess has always been aware of my allergies, she doesn't eat nuts if she knows we're going to do anything together and the few times when she has, she thoroughly brushes her teeth before seeing me.
And here's the update:
I know that I only responded to like one comment, but the amount that I received was honestly overwhelming. So, thank you to everyone who responded. I did read all of them. I thought I'd post this update to tell you guys what happened and explain a little bit of why I made the initial post. For those who were wondering about ages, I'm 21 and Jess is 25. My friends hover around my age and hers hover around her age.
I wish I could come back and say that I had seen my own value and got myself out of the relationship, but the truth is that Jess broke up with me two days after the post. I was still thinking, and she asked to meet up to discuss things. I went in hoping for the best but was met by her telling me that it wasn't working, and she didn't see a future for us where we're both happy. That hurt a lot.
I've spent the past few days sort of realising how stupid my original post here was, OF COURSE I'm not an asshole for not wanting to come into contact with something I'm allergic to.
I think a lot of you probably wondered why I even had to ask. The truth is that I felt like I was going crazy. I genuinely liked and respected her friends, I thought they were really smart. So, to be told that this was the opinion of my girlfriend as well as theirs made me take it very seriously. When I went to my friends and received no support or validation, I started to convince myself that I was wrong.
I also actually learned from the comments that continued exposure could worsen my reactions so that's handy to know now.
This is so messed up. I have a pretty serious garlic allergy that I have to take precautions for so I get it. The reaction from the friends just screams ignorance to me. It isn't about control, it's about his life. Besides, even if he would never have a bad reaction, it's still something that should be respected.
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The Hills XIII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
WARNINGS: DUB-CON, blackmail, forced relationship, toxic relationship, underage drinking,
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ Well, this is it! I thought I’d need 2 more chapters, but turns out I didn’t. I had so much fun with this series, and I was so happy with all of the positive reception! To many more Rafe fics in the future!
➥ series masterlist
summary: Unable to watch JJ look at someone else the way you wish he’d look at you, you start to distance yourself from the Pogues. In an effort to numb the pain, you make a drunken mistake, but nothing is coincidental, and you learn better than anyone that Rafe Cameron always gets what he wants.
~
JJ liked you back.
Despite what had taken place after that reveal, you couldn’t focus on anything but that. Even now, you barely registered the feel of Rafe’s hand on your throat as he snorted small white lines off of your chest. JJ liked you back, and somehow you felt like the stupidest girl in the world.
The knowledge that all of this could have been avoided if you’d just talked to him was crippling. Still, you had been so sure about everything, but somehow, once you started talking about it out loud with him…you felt silly. There was this hollow feeling in your chest that didn’t even compare to the hurt you thought you’d felt before.
You liked JJ…and he liked you back…but you couldn’t be with him.
It seemed like one big cruel joke, but Rafe was the only one who was laughing. Even though he’d made it clear that he’d targeted you, you still couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be here if you’d just coped with things better that night. It seemed pointless to dwell on ‘what if’s’ but it couldn’t be helped. In this moment, you were more angry with yourself than with Rafe. Just then, the man in question pressed his lips to yours as he pulled you up into a sitting position by your neck.
He brushed his thumb under his nose, pupils blown when his eyes met yours. Your face was even, taut as it had been for days, and Rafe laughed at that. He’d been walking around with a smug grin ever since that night, eyes alight with mischief at your misfortune.
Your relationship, if it could even be called that, had regressed back to its early days where Rafe hurt you as much and took advantage of you as much as he pleased. The thought that his blackmailing of your mom was his way of giving you a choice was laughable, but in a way, it was true. If you had felt trapped before, it was nothing compared to how you felt now.
“Smile a little, huh?” he drawled, offering you some coke. “It’s a party.”
Said party was happening in a whole other room. Rafe had dragged you into someone’s guest room over 30 minutes ago, not quite in the mood to share the booger sugar, and you sadly realized that watching him get high was the better part of your week.
“A party that I don’t want to be at,” was your response, and Rafe smirked.
“Yeah, well, you still manage to smile when I make you do a lot of things you don’t want to do.”
His words had you frowning, anger stirring in your chest, and you looked away when he laughed. He leaned in to press his lips to your neck, and you tilted your head away before standing and wiping away any coke residue from your skin. You heard him heave a light sigh from behind you.
“That attitude of your is real cute, but you’re gonna have to drop it next week.”
His words had your frown deepening, and when you looked back at him he was leaning on his elbow.
“What’s so special about next week?” you dryly wondered.
Rafe didn’t answer right away. In fact, his whole demeanor seemed to change for a split second, smile falling and eyes hardening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. He reminded you of that night on Ward’s boat or those times when he was fighting JJ…and it scared you. It only lasted for a moment, that familiar mirth returning to his eyes, but it was enough to unnerve you, nonetheless.
“The family’s going on our annual summer trip…and you’re coming along.”
You scoffed at that, folding your arms over your chest, and a protest was on your lips before you remembered that you probably didn’t have a choice. Still, you wondered how Rafe was going to force you to go anywhere with them, and that was what you asked him.
“Come on, babe,” he started, reaching for your hand. “You’re telling me you don’t want to get away from Outer Banks for a few days? I bet you’ve never even left North Carolina.”
You pursed your lips at that, loathed to admit that he was right.
“I’ll drag you if I have to, you know, but even you can’t be so stubborn to turn your nose up at a vacation you could only dream of that you’re not even paying for.”
“Days secluded God knows where with just you and your family? That’s not exactly my idea of a vacation,” you snidely replied.
Rafe gave a light laugh at that.
“Well, it’s going to have to be because you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you here.”
You clenched your jaw.
“…besides someone has to keep Sarah company aside from Wheezie, right…?”
Your eyes met his at that, and the reminder that Sarah would also be going relaxed you a bit. You rolled your eyes, too defeated to argue. The last one had escalated into something ugly, and you absentmindedly circled your wrist from when Rafe had held it too tight yesterday.
That’s what the past week or so consisted of. Fighting and fucking. Or rape, to be more accurate. Every attempt to leave only ended in Rafe pinning you down, and your body more sore than the day it was before. It was strange to be standing here and having a simple conversation with your tormentor, but this was currently your new normal.
Even now, you knew that if you attempted to make a run for it, Rafe would get his hands on you before you even made it to the door. By the glint in his eyes, he knew it too, and you swore that he was almost begging you to make this night more interesting for him. However, instead of giving him what he wanted, you simply looked away, ignoring the sound of his deep laugh in your ear.
You sighed at the sight of another missed call from JJ.
You felt guilty for ignoring his calls, for ignoring all of their calls, but it was too painful, right now. Everything was out and in the open, and it was hard to talk to them with the truth of your situation hanging over the conversation. You knew that it wouldn’t be like this forever, that one day you’d figure out how to get out of this mess and away from this crazy family.
But until then…
You recalled the sight of Rafe and JJ rolling around on the ground again. How many times had your best friend gotten hurt because of you and what you’d gotten him caught up in? Despite his lack of right to be, Rafe was a jealous man, and you didn’t want to give him another reason to hurt anyone. Like before, you erased the call history just as you heard Rafe call your name from upstairs.
With a roll of your eyes, you reluctantly crossed the house, passing Ward and Rose in the kitchen as you did. A second suitcase had joined his on the bed, and you glanced over the clothes, none of which you had bought, that were sprawled along the mattress.
“Pick what you’re taking,” he dismissively said, waving his hand about.
“You pick,” you argued. “You’re the one who wants to pretend like we’re one happy couple.”
Rafe cut his eyes to you, glancing over you with a sneer.
“If it were up to me, you’d walk around in nothing, but I don’t think Rose would be too happy about that.”
“God, you’re disgusting,” you spat, reaching for the least provocative thing you could find.
Rafe’s hand found your neck, thumb brushing over the skin.
“Lighten…up…”
His voice had lowered, softened some, and you swallowed.
“…you’re starting to ruin this vacation before it’s even started.”
“Then leave me here.”
You stared into each other’s eyes with straight faces, but yours eventually grew pleading.
“So I can come back to find you…what? Gone? Waiting for me with some scheme that’ll keep me away from you? I’m a lot of things, but I’m not stupid,” he slowly said.
“This is bullshit,” you spat, throwing the dress on the floor. “You think some useless family vacation to whatever fancy vacation house you have is going to make me forget what kind of position I’m in? It’s just supposed to distract me from the fact that you’ve tormented me beyond forgiveness and that my friendships with the people I love will never be the same?”
You scoffed.
“No, you’re not stupid, Rafe, but you’re definitely delusional.”
You watched him pick your dress up off the floor before placing it in your hand, holding it there with his own as he leaned in.
“…and so are you if you think that this little tantrum is going to end in anything other than your bag packed and you freshly showered and sleeping in my bed at the end of the night.”
He was right, of course. You knew he was right, and you swallowed. You would come up with something, you had to, but maybe until then, it would be easier to play nice. At least until you cane back. You were soon going to be surrounded by nothing but the Camerons for a few days, and Sarah was the only one who would be on your side.
So with a huff, you picked out what you liked, and true to his word, at the end of the night, you were freshly showered and curled up under his sheets. Rafe was on the phone with Kelce, and his voice became background noise as you decided on whether or not this trip would be heaven or hell.
Your expectations were already low when you got on the private plane days later, Rafe’s hand on your waist as Ward and Wheezie followed in behind you. It occurred to you then that you still didn’t quite comprehend the kind of wealth the Camerons’ possessed. Against what you wanted, you found yourself drifting away on the plane.
It was funny, really.
You hadn’t even bothered to ask where you were going.
When you woke up, you woke up in an unfamiliar room. That was to be expected, of course, but you hadn’t expected the air to feel so different here. You couldn’t hear anyone else, and you took the time to stand and look around. The room had an entire wall that was one huge window, and you blinked at the view. It was beautiful, you wouldn’t deny that, and you pursed your lips just as you faintly heard Wheezie’s voice.
“There she is,” Ward called when you finally found your way to the kitchen.
“Told you she’d be jetlagged,” Wheezie commented at Rafe, shrugging as your ‘boyfriend’ rolled his eyes.
It looked like Ward was making sandwiches, the sound of the knife sliding along the cutting board grating as he sliced tomatoes.
“How’d you sleep, babe?” Rafe quietly asked, pulling you closer.
Your gaze briefly met Ward’s, and you glanced away.
“Fine.”
Your reply was curt.
“Where are we?”
Wheezie snorted at that, typing away on her phone.
“Rafe, you jerk. You didn’t even tell her where we were going?”
“Now, now. He probably just wanted it to be a surprise, isn’t that right?”
Ward’s smile was convincing, and you wondered if Sarah even partially knew what her dad was really like.
“We’re in the Bahamas,” Rafe finally told you. “My dad’s had this place for years.”
Your brows briefly rose at that, and you cleared your throat.
“Sarah and Rose are coming tomorrow, right?”
“Of course, they are, sweetheart. You know Rose,” Ward commented. “She has to bring the whole world with her on every trip.”
You simply hummed, thinking to yourself that Sarah couldn’t get here fast enough. Rafe’s fingers kneaded into your side, holding you to him as he sat on the stool. You felt his lips on your shoulder and swallowed at that. It was barely the first day, and you already knew you couldn’t handle much more of this without her. Ward and Wheezie kept to themselves for the rest of the day for the most part, leaving you and Rafe to yourselves.
It felt strange to be walking along the beach with Rafe, hand in hand like you didn’t hate his guts. You surmised that he was keeping up appearances for his sister that was in the dark, but it still felt weird for him to be so sweet to you. As sweet as Rafe Cameron could be, you supposed. You didn’t know how to respond when he clasped the bracelet around your wrist that he’d bought from some vendor for you.
“Wheezie’s not here, you know,” you’d said, and his response had been a genuine smile.
“I know…but I’m happy.”
You couldn’t deny that he did seem to be, and you frowned at him.
“Why?” you’d rudely asked, and he’d merely shaken his head before briefly pressing his lips to your cheek.
When you made it back to the house, it was late, and after your shower, Rafe wasted no time in kissing you. You had lightly protested, pressing your hands to his chest.
“I thought this was supposed to be a vacation,” you sneered. “…and fucking you with your dad and sister on the other side of the house isn’t my idea of relaxation.”
Rafe exhaled a chuckle, hands on your waist as he pulled you closer.
“Then why do you always sleep like a baby after I make you come, huh?” he murmured, hands on your face now as he brought you into a kiss.
“Rafe-.”
“I want to kiss you…”
You were taken aback by the seriousness of his tone.
“…and I want to fuck you here in this pretty mansion with the sound of the ocean waves in the background.”
His eyes held yours as he said this, and you swallowed at the feel of his thumbs brushing along your jaw.
“Remember that first night on the beach? When I didn’t have to hold you down?”
“I was drunk-.”
“…but you wanted me. I was there, and I was the one you kissed back, the one you wanted to sleep with that night.”
“I wasn’t thinking-.”
“You held onto me and wrapped your legs around me, and you never moaned for me like that since,” he continued, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “Come on…”
He pulled away, and you struggled to hold his gaze.
“I will, but…I’d rather not have to make you have sex with me here.”
You turned to look at the glass wall, knowing that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Funnily enough, the only time you ever did had been that night, and you’d never had one since.
“Pretend just this once.”
And you did.
Rafe’s lips were gentle against yours as he kissed you, touch equally as soft as he undressed you and laid you down. You could count the number of times on one hand that he’d been this delicate with you, and you couldn’t stop the whispery moan that escaped when he kissed his way down your body.
Oddly enough, you were reminded of that first night when you’d been heartbroken and desperate to feel wanted. Rafe was right, of course. You had wanted him that night. Regretting it didn’t change the truth. It wasn’t like you didn’t know who was kissing you, but you’d been lonely, and Rafe had shown you the attention you desperately wanted from someone else.
And you had welcomed it.
Your fingers twisted into his hair as he tasted you, lips still wet when he eventually crawled his way over your body and pressed them to yours. Your fingers brushed along his arms, and Rafe shuddered before sinking into you, teeth grazing the expanse of your throat. He fucked you with care, and you couldn’t stop the mewls that left your lips.
It was a lot like that night on the beach, only this time you weren’t drunk. But you’d found your way into a trap all the same. Rafe had you caged beneath him as he fucked you, and you didn’t stop yourself from wrapping your legs around him.
“That’s it,” he breathed, lips brushing over yours. “Come on, baby.”
The first time you came felt like a betrayal to your own body, but by the third time, you almost wished that reality wouldn’t slap you in the face tomorrow.
When you woke up, you could tell that it was later than you intended to sleep until. The sun was much too high in the sky, and upon reaching out, you realized that Rafe’s side of the bed was empty. The memory of last night was fresh in your mouth like liquor, and you couldn’t stop your sigh. The house sounded empty when you eventually sat up, but you decided to put on something anyway.
It happened to be Rafe’s shirt and some shorts.
The bright marble walls greeted you when you stepped out, and you once again confirmed the silence of the house. It was big though, proven right when you didn’t even hear anyone in the kitchen until you were practically in it.
It was Rafe, and oddly enough, you didn’t know how to behave around him after last night.
“Is Wheezie still asleep?”
That was your greeting, preferring to focus on something else. In your experience, that girl was usually the first one up, proven right when Rafe shook his head.
“Nah,” he answered, warming up some leftover breakfast.
“Oh,” you replied. “Is she down at the beach? Ward too?”
Rafe didn’t answer right away, but he eventually shook his head, and you frowned. You glanced around again before looking at the clock, taking note of the time.
“What time are Rose and Sarah supposed to be getting here?”
The microwave beeped, and instead of answering, Rafe took your plate out. You sat at the counter as he placed it in front of you, hands resting on the other side as he finally looked at you head on. His dirty blond hair was mussed, and his face was entirely serious when he answered.
“They’re not.”
You faltered at that, looking at him with a deep frown.
“Did something happen? When are they coming?”
Rafe’s answer was immediate.
“They’re not coming.”
“I…I don’t…”
You shook your head, confusion tearing through you as you nervously looked around.
“Where are Ward and Wheezie?”
Your question came out breathless, and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Rafe heaved a sigh.
“Considering what time they left this morning, they should be back in Outer Banks…”
Your lips parted as you simply…stared at him. With difficulty, you stood on shaky legs.
“You’re not funny…”
“I’m not joking…”
“Rafe,” you breathed. “Please, tell me you’re joking. We’re going back, right?”
Deep down, you knew the answer to that now. Especially the longer you stared at him, and tears kissed your eyes.
“Rafe,” you said, your voice small.
He made his way to the other side of the counter, and you took a step back.
“We’ll go back…eventually.”
“Eventually? Rafe, are you-?”
“When I think that you’ve finally come around, then maybe we can go back one day,” he said so casually like this wasn’t kidnapping.
“No,” you breathed. “No, no, no, no, no.”
You hurriedly ran through the house, looking for something that didn’t add up to what he was saying. You looked for Wheezie and Ward and their luggage, but all signs of them were gone. Rafe slowly followed at a distance, hands shoved into his pockets, and when you faced him again, the slap couldn’t have been any louder.
Surprisingly, Rafe didn’t get angry. He merely adjusted his jaw and smirked, and you knew why. He had won, and you weren’t quite ready to accept that. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you couldn’t get air in fast enough. You pressed your hand to your chest, reaching out for the wall.
You were stuck here in the Bahamas with Rafe. You didn’t know anyone but him, and you had no means of getting home. You were well and truly trapped.
“My mom…”
“You can always call her,” he said, reaching for you.
“No,” you tearfully said, shaking your head. “Rafe…”
A sob escaped, and you would’ve collapsed if it wasn’t for him.
“Take me home, please, take me home,” you gasped.
He sat you down, kneeling beside you, and you shook your head.
“Not now-.”
“You can’t do this! My friends! They’re going to-.”
“Tell the police you’ve been kidnapped instead of actually on a nice vacation with your boyfriend at his family’s house? Hmm?”
You tearfully frowned at him, seeing him in an entirely new light, and you slowly blinked.
“I hate you,” you shakily spat.
“Yeah, well that’s why you’re here,” he sighed.
“You can’t…you can’t do this…”
You couldn’t breathe, and you held onto him.
“I already did,” was his reply.
You could feel yourself growing lightheaded, and for once, you wanted to run away from the darkness because you knew the nightmare wouldn’t be over when you woke up.
Fin.
~
tags: @xoxabs88xox @readermia @buckybarnesplumwhore @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @mandiiblanche @doozywoozy @melli0112 @zombiexbody @holl2712 @mansaaay @lipstickstainedred @avengers-goddess @ameliaalvarez06 @kaelibaby @totallynotkaibiased @hanniebee33 @jemimah-b99 @gillybear17 @valeriiecameron @mannstarkey @lovserrr @aglassoforangejuiceee @emberenchanted @layazul @toystory2wasjustokay @my-baexht-ls @prettymuchboo @asonofpeter @spidey-d00d @cockslutpadalecki @dirtytissuebox @evemarieyl @katherinemaximoff @ventinglation @tastycakee @stopnala @annellie @littleone2223 @itskeishaaaaa @blueicequeen19 @drewsgfduh @ashpeace888 @bibliophilewednesday @lonnie2390147 @1-800-di0r @amanduhh1998 @coldspoons @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @twwcs @breakfastonpluto19 @lovedetlost @pearlsofme @rottenstyx @famousdestinygarden @drewbooooo @officialfangirls-blog
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*spoilers for herogasm*
To reduce Hughie’s actions to toxic masculinity overlooks the complexity of his motivations and what set him off this path initially. We just saw his residual rage and grief of Robin’s death in his scene with A-train. It never left Hughie. He never had the chance to protect her. It makes his decisions a lot more nuanced, compounded by the crazy shit he has survived in the last 3 years. He also has had to reconcile with Neuman’s betrayal and the fact that he contributed to Vought’s strength in government which completely upended his life. That alone was a huge blow to his confidence and everything he believed in about doing things the “right way.” I just wish Annie, MM and Butcher did more to correct him like, “nooooo babe, you’ve done so much xyz.”
I do like that it shows the challenges of being in a supe relationship and with Hughie its also informed by his knowledge and experience of the collateral damage of supes and the life it took away from him. This is why I think it’s bigger than Annie just being physically stronger.
An underrated moment: In a way, Annie proved Hughie correct. When he was standing in her way, she used her powers against him to get him out of her way. If he wasn’t suped up would he be able to withstand the attack? She was willing to physically hurt Hughie for the greater good to try and save multiple people at herogasm. And Hughie is the same. He did everything he could to make sure Soldier Boy focused on the twins. He failed in this endeavor but the question remains, what’s damage and carnage of a supe party compared to the potential of Homelander taking out New York, the country?Thats why I completely understand team whatever it takes. Hughie was ready to die to take out homelander.
I really enjoy Annie as a character but she’s been allowed to change course multiple times and naturally we root for her but Hughie despite everything he’s experienced is expected to do the right thing. Like no sis! Please my favorite morally upright character, please continue fucking shit up.
It looks like the lesson the show is trying to demonstrate with Annie is that you fight your enemies with the truth and honestly that is really an idealistic and pretty way of looking at the system. I think the show itself may not be ready to reconcile what it’ll take to disrupt systems of capitalistic oppression. But that’s a whole other post.
I really love MM’s arc because his motivations continue to be revealed to us. He’s a man consumed by the trauma and grief of his past which informs his OCD, anxiety and depression. His mental health severely impacts his ability to move forward, to be present and focus on his relationship with his family. For all the talk about Hughie’s codependency with Butcher, MM’s codependency with Butcher extends much longer and deeper. He was willing to lie to his wife multiple times in S1 for Butcher. And for all of Butchers fuckups and multiple betrayals, MM finds his way back to him. I always thought that during the course of 2x01, 2x02 and 2x03, Hughie had every right to feel betrayed by Frenchie and MM when they sided with Butcher even though he straight up left them for dead and Hughie had to step up to help keep the team together. I just hope MM and Hughie can reconcile once the dust settles. Hughie never gave up on MM when he was dissociating and depressed over losing his family in 2x01 and had initially chose to focus on building a dollhouse rather than the mission. Hughie “what if he does this to the Brooklyn bridge” still cares about the greater good. MM more than anyone should understand Hughie’s plight and allure of not only being with Butcher but making fucked up choices motivated by revenge. Ahhh the drama, soo good!!
Thanks for bearing with my excessive train of thoughts. There’s so much more to unpack with Ashley, A-train and others but I’ll need to assess and rewatch.
#the boys#the boys tv#Hughie#hughie campbell#Annie#annie january#the boys spoilers#butcher#billy butcher#my love for hughie? the limit does not exist!!!#mm#mother’s milk
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It's not WIP Wednesday, but it's I Had A Stressful Interview And I'm Still Suffering Residual Embarrassment So Here Have Some Fic Monday.
Fandom: Our Flag Means Death
Warnings: modern AU; set in a forced-regression world, nothing explicit on the page, but there are non-con hints and vibes; age play/regression; a semi-graphic thought of harming a child (kind of - Izzy thinks of his little self as a separate being and wants to harm it)
Izzy doesn't watch TV very often. There's not much that he finds interesting, and reality TV actively makes him want to stab someone. (Ed thinks it's funny, loves splaying out on the sofa with one foot on the cushions and the other propped on the coffee table, flipping between Real Housewives of Whatever-The-Fuck and shitty dating shows where contestants gush about true love like they're not going to cheat on each other in three hours. Ed mostly laughs, but Izzy once saw him crying at the Love is Blind finale. Ed saw Izzy watching him and muted the TV, holding out his hands to Izzy. "Hey, little one," he said, and Izzy switched from wanting to stab someone to wanting to stab Ed in particular.
Not that he could. Nothing dangerous around the baby is Stede's fucking religion, and if Izzy's talking about stabbing, there's someone who deserves a knife to the gut.)
But it's been a long day at the bar and Izzy's tired and his foot hurts, the long-healed stump of his toe aching, and when he gets to Stede and Ed's place -- not home, never home -- all he wants to do is sit and not think for a couple of hours, until he has to haul himself back to the bar for the evening shift.
(Ed's great with the customers, excellent at charming people with smiles and jokes, at intimidating the assholes who occasionally poke their heads in, at convincing people to stay just a little longer, to have just one more drink.
He is... less great at the practicalities of it all, has no time for inventory or getting the best prices for vendors. He likes interviewing new hires, feeling out if they'd fit the vibe of the bar, and leaves making sure they do their actual fucking jobs to Izzy.
He leaves a lot to Izzy, and Izzy likes it that way. Likes being useful, likes doing a good job and having Ed squeeze the back of his neck in thanks.
The bar's the only place he's allowed to be useful any more.)
He sinks back into the couch with a groan, resting his feet on the coffee table. He still has his boots on and he takes a vindictive pleasure in defying Bonnet's no-shoes-in-the-house rule, especially with his feet up on Bonnet's expensive furniture that probably cost as much as Izzy's rent used to. The couch is so soft Izzy thinks he could disappear into it, but that's Bonnet's whole life, all soft pretty things that cost too much money. He wants Izzy to be one of them, just one of his soft useless treasures to show off to the neighbours, and in response, Izzy's rough edges have gotten rougher, his snarls more vicious, his voice sharper. If Bonnet or Ed were home, Izzy would never allow himself to relax on the couch like this, would seat himself on the most stiff and uncomfortable chair Bonnet owns.
But it's just him at home, which is a rarity these days. No one's here to see him flip mindlessly through Bonnet's hundreds of streaming services or to see him put on the least obnoxious show he can find, something with dragons and sex and politics that Ed would become too invested in immediately, or to see him tip his head against the back of the couch and allow him eyes to slide half-shut.
(The stupid voice at the back of his head is piping up, chirping inanities like cozy! and safe! and Daddy! and Izzy wishes he could yank it out, a helpless little being that he could throttle and toss aside, never to be seen again.)
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𖧧 no 16; alone by rhys lewis
⊹ ship; 2min
⊹ for; aimee, spotify wrapped challenge 2022
⊹ tags; hurt/comfort, angst with hopeful ending, drinking, running away, mild swearing, colleagues!2min, office workers, ocean, regrets, kissing, signs of burnout
⊹ wc; 1.2k
⊹ lyrics;
Are you scared you started living too late?
That you should've been making better mistakes?
Are you scared you started living too late?
'Cause some days I wake up full of all this fear
Wishing that I was anywhere but here
I'm craving for the freezing cold of an ocean
To be somewhere lost in a moment
Out there on my own
“Yah! Manager Kim!” Minho drawls, pointing his empty shot glass towards the other. His colleague, Kim Seungmin immediately scrambles to grab the next open bottle of soju to refill Minho’s glass. But the moment Kim Seungmin starts to dip the bottle, Minho yanks away his glass.
“Team Leader-nim!” Kim Seungmin whines in protest, his pronunciation mushy.
Minho only continues to watch as the other almost crashes onto the table, startled by Minho’s rash movement, almost spilling the remains in the bottle while trying to steady himself. Kim Seungmin must have had his fair share of drinks tonight, it seems.
“Say,” Minho prompts. “Aren’t you tired?” He peers into the depth of his glass, twirling around the residue of the last shot he took, mindlessly.
“Of drinkin’? Not yet.” Kim Seungmin looks around for a bit, gaze flitting along the empty seats around them with most of their department already gone. “Is not time to go home yet,” he concludes. “Sunbae, let’s drink some more,” he raises the bottle back up in a new attempt to pour Minho another drink. “Until our worries wash away!”
“NO!” Minho puts a protective hand over his glass, shielding it.
“Why?” Kim Seungmin whines again with his cheeks red. Minho can’t tell if it’s due to anger or the alcohol.
“Aren’t you tired?” Minho repeats the same vague question from earlier. Because he is, so freaking tired of this.
“Of what?”
“Of this all,” Minho gestures around them. “This pointless job. This suffocating city. Reliving the same boring seven days every week. Pretending to be fine when you’re not. Settling for less than happiness.”
Manager Kim sets down the bottle.
“Because I am,” Minho says as he snatches the soju away in front of his colleague immediately.
He fills his glass hastily, to the brim, with a lot of spillage over the edges. He is bursting at his seams too. He knocks back the shot without hesitation, the alcohol at the back of his throat overshadowing the sting in his eyes.
“So fucking tired,” He hisses after, gulping down — the soju tastes especially bitter today.
“Then,” Kim Seungmin says after a long moment of silence as he meets Minho’s eye.
The fluorescent lights of this shabby barbecue place reflect in Kim Seungmin’s eyes. There is a dangerous glint twinkling in them. It’s unlike anything Minho has ever seen in his colleague, always ever so stoic, polite, and composed. It feels like a challenge, something in it makes Minho’s gut tingle in a way that it hasn’t in quite some time — was it anticipation? Excitement?
“What if we run away?”
—
Minho holds onto Seungmin’s hand tightly as he gets dragged towards the waves. The ocean breeze is strong, rustling their hair, leaving a sting in their eyes and on their cheeks, but Minho finds he doesn’t mind the sensation. He welcomes it in fact.
When Seungmin lets go of Minho’s hand to kick off his shoes and rip off his socks, Minho follows suit. He can barely keep up with the speed at which Seungmin rushes into the water. The only thing that overtones the adrenaline rushing through Minho’s ears is Seungmin’s laughter ringing in the air as he keeps splashing around himself, not minding getting them both wet from head to toe in the process.
The water is far from warm and Minho can feel his blood run cold. First in his toes, then his feet, up to his calves, and the wet spots in his clothes that cling to his remaining skin. But Minho doesn’t stop Seungmin, instead, he joins in. It’s childish, how they go at each other like little kids, but there is something cathartic about it — letting go.
After they have exhausted themselves, they crash into the sand, hands tightly clasped together. The sun is beginning to rise on the horizon, colouring the sky in various shades of blue, orange, and pink. The abundance of color tints Seungmin in a magical glow — skin radiant and brimming with life.
Seungmin turns to him then and there is something oddly enchanting about the look in his eyes. Seungmin had never been like that to Minho — attractive. He only ever had been Manager Kim, blending in with the masses, but now being right before him Minho becomes a moth drawn to a flame. And before he knows it, he can feel Seungmin’s burning hot lips against his own.
At first, it’s only a tentative brush, a ghost of a touch. But the contact is enough to set Minho’s whole being aflame. It ignites something deep in him, a feeling that he thought had long been lost and buried with all the other parts of himself that had run right through his fingers, slipping away.
The more Minho clings, grabs, tugs, gives, and takes the more solid the feeling becomes. The strumming of his heart doesn’t feel as suffocating anymore and the air getting sucked out of his lungs, the burn and ache that comes with it, he welcomes the sensation. When they part, work clothes not only wet but now also disheveled, despite being short of breath, Minho feels like he can finally breathe again.
As they face the ocean to watch the sun rise higher and higher Minho takes a moment to think to himself and comes to the conclusion he doesn’t care what will become of them once they sober up and return back to reality. For now, he chooses to live in the moment. This moment with Seungmin next to him. Not the Seungmin that walks into the office with tired eyes and types away on his computer with a blank expression day in and day out. No. But A Seungmin much more reminiscent of the Seungmin that had walked into his job interview with bright eyes and weightless smile all those years ago.
Back then Minho had thought he would be able to preserve it — Seungmin’s radiance, the spark in him, the optimism. But how could he possibly, when he hadn’t even been able to stop his own smile from fading in the mirror?
Ultimately, Minho hadn’t been able to stop Seungmin from walking down the same path as his own. But maybe now, they could travel this road together feeling a little less alone.
Minho peels himself off the ground and faces Seungmin, who is still sitting in the sand, once he’s up and standing. There is a feeling swelling in his chest, something that feels awfully close like hope.
“Time to go, Seungmin-ah,” Minho says wistfully, reaching out his hand for Seungmin to take with a pounding heart.
A moment passes between them with Seungmin staring into wide of the endless ocean. There is nothing here besides the washing of waves and brushing of the breeze. It’s as if time has frozen and Seungmin with it. He isn’t giving any signs that he considers moving soon and it makes Minho ponder for a moment if Seungmin is ready to take it — a leap of faith. But then his head turns, a gentle smile spreading on Seungmin’s face and then — he takes it, Minho’s hand.
And Minho decides then and there that he won’t let go as long as Seungmin lets him hold it.
𖧧 original post on twt
#stray kids#skz 2min#lee minho x kim seungmin#lee minho#kim seungmin#fanfic#drabble#spotify wrap 2022 challenge#alcohol#mellow vibe#hopeful ending#running away#ocean#boys kissing#office workers#skz angst#colleagues#swearing#regrets#burnout#songfic#slash fanfiction
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First time someone attempts to alleviate their pain and Beau?
AO3 Link for those who wish to leave kudos and comments! I would greatly appreciate comments.
“A Terrible Thing To Waste”, 800 words.
Hope it’s to your liking!
—————
Beau’s head hurts. It feels like it’s been aching for forever, her thoughts overwhelmed by a neverending wave of pain.
Bit by bit, she slowly remembers how it happened.
It had been just a routine investigation at an archaeological site, the initiates under her command working hard to record their findings so that they could be sent back to the library in Rexxentrum.
And then, it happened. An unexpected explosion of arcane force. The resulting shockwave passed through everyone present.
Thankfully, a majority of the monks and wizards managed to shrug off its effects.
Beau, however, wasn’t so fortunate as her guard was down.
All at once, the shockwave overwhelmed all of her senses.
Her thoughts were rapidly spiraling and… fading, like parchment quickly burning away.
Her awareness of the world around her was also fading, as if being enveloped in a thick, impermeable fog.
In her last moments of cognitive thinking, she knew what was happening.
Somehow, it was a trap left behind from the Age of Arcanum. A trap designed to cripple unlucky interlopers through stripping them of their mental faculties.
Or in layman’s terms, it was a mass casting of Feeblemind.
After that, her mind had shattered completely.
And the next thing she knew, she was just acting on feral instinct, lashing out at anyone that got too close. That is, until she was subdued by her people.
And now she’s finally waking up.
“Fuck…” Beau says in a raspy voice, having been unable to speak for… however long it had been since the trap had triggered.
She squints her eyes, her thoughts just barely stitching themselves back together. She’s back in the library in Rexxentrum. Did the archivists on site manage to bring her back here?
How many made it back? And how many were lost?
“Ow!” Beau winces as she rubs her temple. Too much thinking. It hurts to think right now. She even notices that her diadem had been removed, the circlet on a nearby table.
“Ah, you’re finally awake…”
Beau turns her head — ow, too quick, my head’s about to explode — and sees Yudala Fon approaching her. The look of genuine concern is unmistakable on their face.
“High… Curator…” Beau mutters as she tries to sit up. Her head is pounding heavily, protesting the movement.
“Easy, Beauregard. You’re only just managing to recover,” Yudala chides her gently. They help Beau get into a sitting position, a lot more slowly this time. Beau tries to steady her breathing amidst the pain in her head.
“Head… hurts…”
Yudala nods. “Must still be feeling the residual psychic damage from that trap. Here.”
The high curator’s hand lights up and they touch Beau’s temples, casting Cure Wounds as a means of dulling the pain. It does help, somewhat.
Beau exhales slowly. “Thanks.”
The two just remain where they are, taking their time until the fog in Beau’s mind lifts more and more. After several moments, Beau allows herself to open her eyes. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
“I feel much better now…”
“Good.” Yudala helps Beau out of her sickbed and onto her feet. “You’re fortunate to not have had any lasting damage. Some of the others weren’t so lucky. Out of the eleven that went with you, five of them were completely overtaken by the trap and were lost. Those that remained got you back here for treatment.”
“And how long ago was…?” Beau asks hesitantly, not looking forward to knowing how long she was out.
“You were brought back on the same day, then you were laid out for another two even after the Feeblemind effect was lifted.”
Beau frowns, her brow furrowing just as deeply. “And Yasha? Have you notified her?”
Yudala nods. “Yes. Your wife and family have been informed. They should be on their way to come pick you up as we speak.”
A clear and concise answer. Beau can appreciate that. It sucks that she lost three whole days to a fucking wizard trap, and that five of her people were lost to it, but overall it could have been way worse.
“And our findings? Did you get a hold of them?”
“Yes. But we can discuss that later,” Yudala says matter-of-factly. “You just need to go home and get some rest. Please.”
Beau sighs melodramatically, but she’s not about to object. After all, she left Yasha, Clara, TJ, and the kids alone for three days. Far too long.
“No argument here. If I’m not home for a day longer, Yasha won’t let me live it down.”
A moment of silence follows before the expositor and high curator end up chuckling.
Again, all things considered, it could’ve been way worse.
And normally, Beau would be reluctant to ask for time off, being the workaholic she is.
But today can be an exception.
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Fanfic ask: 💔 😅 🎶 🍷 🤲🏻 & 🥰
AAA thank you for sending these!! ^o^
💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?
Not necessarily — but I feel like when I write fics, I’m usually trying to cure my own heartache (especially if writing for DGM, because woosh, canon hurts enough XD). There are definitely scenes that have broken my heart (Alma waking up at the end of The Chime of a Crystalline Flower and questioning if Kanda was real definitely broke me).
I haven’t finished writing it, but I do think the ending of Songbirds in Winter is going to be a knife to the heart. There’s definitely going to be a tragic element to how things play out between many of the characters, so that might be the fic to do it. >.<
😅 What’s a story or scene you’ve created that you’re a smidge embarrassed exists?
Somehow I felt it in my bones this would be asked if anyone sent me anything. XD
So, I do have some things I’m really embarrassed about but I actually haven’t posted them all to my AO3. >.> Some of my really kinky things I just haven’t mustered the courage to post, but maybe one day. :3 (Tbh, I have some ideas for fics with the sex pollen trope, but aaaa. I need to be braver. LOL.)
HOWEVER, as I work on some scenes for Songbirds in Winter, some spicy bits have definitely made me blush. X3
In terms of what I have shared, the one thing that probably embarrassed me the most is making Alma a webcam model in my Lavi x Alma fic, A Chance Encounter. Otherwise, maybe some of my older fics because ayeeee, my grammar and sentence structure when I started writing was not it. XD
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
Sometimes! Depending on what I’m writing, I might listen to something on a loop or opt for silence, but generally if I listen to anything while writing, it’ll be instrumental/without lyrics.
Since I’m working on Songbirds in Winter and it’s a Romeo and Juliet AU, I’ve been listening to Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet score. (Specifically, I’ve been listening to the Balcony Scene/Love Dance and Juliet’s Funeral/Death — the last 3 minutes of the latter piece probably encompass the mood of the story the most and where it’s heading, so it’s been something I’ve been returning to a lot lately.
🍷 Do you drink and write?
I did a few times in the past, but not so much anymore! Mostly because I haven’t been drinking wine much anymore lately. Every once in a while I might, but I tend to drink a lot of tea to help me focus. :3
🤲🏻 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
Absolutely! The following is from (surprise) Songbirds in Winter for a chapter I’m currently working on. >.> A little spice to tickle your fancy. <3
~~~
Breaths rapid. Body trembling. He was below him, eyes clouded and lips parted with flushed skin. “T—Tyki,” he pleaded, voice quivering with need. “Tyki, please, please—"
The memory did not even play out in full, a shudder threatening to ripple through Tyki’s body. Still lying on his back, he ran his hands over his face. Did he need a smoke? He had snuck one before dinner, but felt a little on edge, need and want creeping into his veins like a poison slowly spreading. He just couldn’t stop thinking. He couldn’t stop thinking about Alma.
He opened his eyes, Tyki sitting up. He felt unusually riled, his energy restless, the alpha standing as he walked over to a coat hanger in the corner of his room, his worn, older cloak that he normally used still hanging up.
Without a second thought, Tyki snatched it, taking it back to the bed as he sat on the edge. Bringing the fabric to his face, he inhaled. The scent was mostly his own musk mixed with the remnants of nicotine, but faintly there was another scent — a little light, more floral. Alma’s scent.
It was nowhere near enough, the residual scent minimal. A twinge of frustration brimmed within Tyki, a small part of himself wishing that Alma’s scent had lingered longer. He had noticed Alma’s scent before when their paths had crossed, but last night…
Heat seeped low into his gut, Tyki’s pulse quickening. The restless energy inside him continued to fester, the alpha shifting his body on the bed. Still holding his cloak close, he inhaled once more, trying to savor what remained of Alma — flowers and sugared pomegranates, spring amongst winter.
🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?
Always! Always!!! Whether it’s a WIP or a fic I wrote years ago — it always makes me happy to hear from readers, and I really appreciate it when readers want to reach out. (I also love it when readers have questions/theories? It’s really fun to hear what others are taking from reading my fics, and I’m always happy to answer comments/asks/messages. <3 )
Fanfic Emoji Asks.
#fanfic emoji ask#asks#ask meme#fanfiction#writing#answers#kitty-bandit#thank you for asking!!#I wanted to answer soon but the snippet is something I was working on last night >.>
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The drink is no longer refreshing even the regular sugar is deadly and people recognize it and it stinks the diet ones make you dehydrated later and for hours if not more and our son just noticed it he said I didn't get hydrated last night and it's weird and I had the cheese and it's working but he was dehydrated and it is this drink the diet version people are not drinking it now and it's going to become very unpopular after we post and they're sitting there trying to threaten him for stuff and we go after them every time and we take away the residuals too and they just keep doing it and they're sick and I think they have ai and they don't we are tired of these people okay they're stupid and they support the Max and the empire and we need them gone and the pseudo empire idiots and even their leaders say are stupid and they're not just supporting them but they're offering the door into the area and we have to fight for it and it's a bloody fight but it works if not for us the foreigners might have lost access already it's true too now he is an idea for this drink and it is to take the bottles from the bottom facility and take them because we'll kill the people there first because they're evil and we will bottle beer from the generic beer company they have a small one a medium-sized and they come in 6 and 8 packs or something and then a decent size one in a big one and we're going to do all of them in beer with the same twist off tops cuz they're airtight and they always say it too cuz they're fancy people same with Powerade and there's a few more drinks that do this with stevia and we're going to start taking that and we will make the same beer and a whole bunch of different plastic bottles and we'll find out which one they like and his son and daughter-in-law wish to make the mug and yeah they're god and goddess from their cadre but they're from their family and they're going to try and do that at the same time and he they said it popularizes it and it hurt his idea you make handles and he got it from one of these guys and you put the handles all four in on the four pack and they're big I mean we're talking those big water things from Crystal fountain or whatever it is and they're good size maybe not that big but they're pretty they're three quarters of that and it's like a Poland springs jug and you take them out and you pull the handle to the side it locks in place automatically it's a simple plastic handle and you can use it and read it and it's awesome the idea is awesome and he's worked on it for quite a while and his son and daughter-in-law did and came up with it and they're working on and on four of them in one pack fix up the big part of your refrigerator and you hand them out and you have beer all night long the plastic keeps it cooler and then the tin or aluminum and people love it it's much healthier for you the plastic is not off guessing in the soda bottles in diet bottles cuz he process it so many times and we are going to do it now and start selling this beer and soda bottles too with so many and we reconstitute the bottles and turn them into plastic beer cans that are brown and our generic beer I'm going to start doing it now and we're going to start our breweries up
Thor Freya
Olympus
Zues Hera
I suppose death race will start I'm going to fight over the brewery and other stuff and we have to and we really should be making something
Trump
Trump is being overwhelmed and nobody thinks he's a good guy and we don't and he's getting screwed by people maybe they're kidnapping him and they're scaring him because that's what he's saying he's doing and they're they're getting hurt really badly and fairly soon they're going to be out but no they're taking a lot of hits from what's going on and their cash is all of them are breached and half of them are about 70% or 65% empty and there's a rush on them and the others are beginning to empty and the average about 15% and it's a lot of stuff we're taking our share and it's a big share and the Max and foreigners are too they get a huge amount in the max are pissed off and the idiot thought it was going to tie it up so he said it and he thinks he's still running it with robotics and he's a nutcase
Thor Freya
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i do not think i have ever really understood forgiveness, in the way that a lot of people wield it. or, seem to
i have always seen the concrete action of forgiving someone as necessarily detached from whatever you might actually feel on the matter in question, as basically the process of discarding whatever resentment churns in your chest & signing a lease to allow whoever you are forgiving a right to not care anymore about what resentment you may or may not residually feel. there have been lots of times where i felt that i would probably not be able to excuse someone, endemically, emotionally, possibly for a very long time - & i went through the process of forgiving them all the same, since otherwise it would feel like a great waste it simply didn't have to be. it creates the understanding that i am incapable of control over my bitterness & pettiness. which, even in situations where that bitterness might be arguably understandable, feels childish. accepting it, feels cloying, letting it control my own actions, inadvertently validating them, schoolboyish.
i guess even in extreme cases my disinclination towards complicating any given situation overpowers any perverse desire i would feel to 'hurt' whoever by withholding forgiveness from them, or anything similar. it does not feel wholly unrealistic to imagine myself quietly & viscerally wishing for someone to be hideously hurt for possibly the remainder of my entire life, but never once expressing or giving that thought room to breathe because i had already officially 'forgiven' them.
C: What happens if they still care
i don't think it's ever really happened
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Hii again, thanks for answering the rodeo clown AU ask!
I'm really intrigued to imagine this in Connor's perspective! That makes a lot of sense, writing Connor's POV and then letting it shape Hank's backstory as that goes. It probably makes way more sense than set in stone both stories and then having trouble connecting the two. I just fell in the rabbit hole of the rodeo clown thing and read a lot about really fucked up injuries, sometimes preventing some of them of being as active as they were, or making them retire.
And as I read your wonderful description of bodyguard feels I got caught up imagining how much Hank would still have in him and how hurt he could still have the luxury to get (cuz h/c is my life essence you know hahahaha) And then I wondered if he feels washed up but could technically still keep going, with maybe some residual pain from previous injuries, or if he would be really compromised and ready to retire (I was so into imagining Hank protecting Connor that I started trying to imagine how that would go and how man injuries he'd avoid and how many he wouldn't hahaahah and then when I couldn't imagine it, I figured I could ask miss author so they could hopefully share what they thought about it 👀)
Noo, thank you for being so nice answering the question, and for coming up with so many creative ideas for this pairing <3
Oh man, Hank has had to have suffered sooo many injuries in his time… Drace suggested that he continues to rodeo clown well into retirement age as a self-destructive thing and I think that might be the way to go. Hank putting himself in harm’s way because he doesn’t value his own life 😌 This only gets worse as he starts falling for Connor and becomes extremely protective of him 😌 and maybe also wants to show off a little bit 😌 Connor like ‘wtf this guy is way too old for this job what an idiot he’s going to die’ 😌 but also 😌 it’s working 😌 as a rodeo clown mating dance 😌 the rodeo clown is supposed to be the last thing on Connor’s mind as he’s trying to not get thrown off and trampled by a bull but 😌 he worries about Hank 😌 Hank is so stupid and stubborn and it’s actually pretty hot but he is also maybe a little too slow and broken down for this and Oh Shit, He Is About To Get Gorged 😌 Connor freaks 😌 Connor is the one who ends up in the hospital 😌 Hank now has to decide if he wants to take this as a lesson that his self-destructive tendencies do not only hurt himself because he is cared for and maybe even loved 😌 or if it just makes him wish he were dead all over again 😌✨💫
#thank you for the ask and helping me write my entire notes doc for this fic 😆#also sorry about the overuse of the 😌 emoji i got carried away#ask
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xx11.a: The River, As I awoke from the campsite … I immediately noticed as The Jester had disappeared. No sign of The Street Rat, but as I went to get up and unclasp my hands from beneath my head … I feel paper … a note … from said drifter that read. “We’ve been through a lot of shit you and I. and to tell you the truth, I’d be dead ten times over without you always being there to save my ass or support me when I was down dude. in all honesty, I was ready to end it a couple of times. I’ve never said this before but… one night the smiles faded and I was ready to paint the wall with my little snub 357, It was a few months back when you went awol. I blamed you for a while… thought all the worst shit and painted you in a light that you would never be seen in and made myself believe in my own fucked up delusions that you were a person you most certainly weren’t… I know it’s fucked but I’d honestly never wanna tell you the things I thought and wished on you, because they were just fucking wrong and I’m embarrassed to have even been me in that moment… But I held that against you for a while you going dark, because in truth I’m just a little fucked up mentally as you know. But I’m sorry. I should have never ever said the things I did or done the things I did. I wanted to kill you off and just erase you from existence. But even through all your shit and downright wrong scenarios, you were going through… you were fucking there. And tbh… sometimes that makes it all the harder to know you which I know sounds weird dude. But it is just that I can’t ever see you not being there and I don’t know what the fuck I’d be doing without you. You really are my best fucking friend ever and I will fucking die on any hill or any battlefield you want me to. I don’t care what old mental residue is left over in that damn brain of yours that’s trying to choke you out, that haunts your damn dream and waking life or the hard pills you were forced to swallow that made you delta on us for a bit… I will stand just as strong as you have for me… if not harder because I will always owe you more than anyone ever. That night you yelled in my face and told me I was the problem and said you thought I was the reason everyone ODed back in the day… hurt like hot fire replaced my everything, and boy did I hate you in that moment as we’ve discussed, but that day when you came to me again… in all your suffering and heartache to come and ease my mind and tell me… You didn’t hate me, and you didn’t think I was a bad person, and you were just being immature and holding grudges and placing wild blame on someone that didn’t deserve it. I still to this day… have no idea how the fuck you had the courage to say that about yourself. I envy you so much dude… like I wish I had that ability and I’m going to actually try every fucking day to be more like you. Fucking everyone if they could see you now… would be in awe… because you are the goddamn goat when it comes down to people in general homie… I want you to know the only reason that there are two Vince brothers alive today to ruin the world a little longer… Is all you dude… no joke this time playa. I’m going off as you suggested… to live with The Knight. And help him recover from his shit and help out. I’m gonna fucking recover and be so much better dude… ALL FOR YOU!!!! Because you disserve to reach your Cloud of Dreams dude… I wanna be somehow as strong as you are mentally and emotionally even in your now broken state… I’ll be there whenever you need me… even if I’m not ready and in pain… from now on… I’m gonna support you as you do me and others homie… through shit thick and sludge like Salem, I won’t ever forget the promise we made when we were kids dude. We’re getting out of The City TOGETHER!… I fucking love you!. And I will be here for you whenever you goddamn need homie. And you bet your ass I’ll See you when I see you. Stay honest Teufel and I’ll see you where the sun don’t shine!” I was speechless … [To Be Continued]
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It's been a while since I last posted something personal around here but I really don't know where else I can talk about it so here comes a long post about my sexuality and general rant about it because I need to vent and get some advice maybe?
As far as my sexuality goes, I've always known I'm not straight and at first I simply identified as bisexual because that's what felt right to me at the time. However, as time passed by and I started to analyze my romantic/sexual relationships (or lack thereof) I sensed that there was more to it than just that. As I grew and learned more, I started to identify as asexual, because if I'm being honest, I never feel that attraction that people describe, every time I had ever had sex, it was me following someone's lead but I never enjoyed it or really cared about it at all. It wasn't like it was anything negative either, if anything I would say I'm neutral, like it doesn't even bother me or affect me in anyway if I have sex or not, and it's not something I seek either.
I started to research more into it, and changed labels in the ace spectrum for a while, really confused because at the same time I was pretty sure I had really liked some people in the past. One day I came across the split attraction model and it only made me question myself more, the aro spectrum was something completely new to me and I wasn't sure what to do with that information. I started to think that maybe I was actually alloaro, or greyaroace or something in between those lines. Romance is something I don't really understand, like, I enjoy it in media and I get the concept, but as for myself, I always struggled with really getting what it was like because I never dated anyone romantically until my late 20s, time in which I dated a guy who I really thought I liked at the beginning but then completely made me feel uncomfortable a week into dating and ended up things with him. And then she came along, a girl who I really really liked and that somehow reciprocated my feelings. We started dating and I'm pretty sure I felt what everyone always described as romantic attraction and love, however she ended things with me badly by ghosting me and disappearing from my life.
During her absence I felt nothing remotely similar with anyone else, nor was I interested in seeking another relationship, not because of hurt or anything, I was simply not interested in something like that. It was then that I learned more about aromanticism and, well, initially I thought that maybe I was greyromantic, like, I usually don't feel romantic attraction but when I do, it either lasts too little or the complete opposite of that. I did question it a lot though, because then the ace part of me was also in constant contradiction and I was starting to wonder if maybe I was in neither of the spectrums and was just, like, finding excuses as to why my relationships never worked.
With time I've come to a conclusion that feels right for me, at least at present time when I'm typing this. I'm an aroflux sex indifferent asexual. I mostly stay in the aro side of the spectrum, but if certain conditions are met, then I can feel romantic attraction, however the duration of it will depend on the person (regardless of their gender) and on how long those conditions are met.
So here's the thing.
That girl who ghosted me a few years ago came back into my life this past year and the residual feelings reawakened, she also treated me in a way that made me believe that maybe she wanted to give us another try, but she had a girlfriend at the time who she ended up breaking up with just to start dating someone else. I was really really hurt by this, because I am aware of how rarely I feel romantic attraction towards people, and the fact that the few times that it's happened it's ended up being unrequited makes me wish I were completely aro to begin with just to save me the pain. Added to this, there is this guy at work who I felt attracted to from the beginning (because aesthetic attraction is a thing for me and I can totally tell the difference between it and romantic attraction), but recently I've been feeling that initial attraction has moved into more romantic territory and it's scary because I can tell that he feels it too.
Then again, the problem here is that I care about him as a dear friend and colleague, and I wouldn't want to ruin that by trying to pursue something else not knowing how long the feeling is going to last for me, because I don't know if it's going to be a lasting or a fleeting thing like in the past, and he recently ended a relationship in which he was badly hurt and I definitely don't want to do him badly like his previous partner.
And that's the thing, I'm scared of my aromanticism. Like, I've come to embrace it, because that really is who I am, and if I never "settle down" with anyone I really don't mind, but whenever it fluctuates to alloromantic territory I panic, because I am afraid of hurting people, but at the same time I'm hurting myself by not letting me have the experience at all and feeling esporadic - albeith short - heartbreak every single time my feelings aren't reciprocated just sucks too, you know?
And don't get me started with my occasional gender identity problems... But I'm going to leave that topic for a different time.
#silly Galu#lgbtqa+#asexual#aromantic#asexuality#aromanticism#aroflux#questioning#on a side note it'd be cool if I were completely aro o greyro just because I really like the flags because they're ✨ green ✨#like the aroflux flag is ok and I love pink too but idk the especific shades of pink and green on it don't look very pleasing to eye imo#and I dislike the aroace orange/blue combination so I refuse to ever use that one I'll just use 2 different flags simultaneously forever#also explaining is too difficult and I hate the questions I get so I always just say I'm bi or lesbian tbh#people are more accepting that way
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