#except he got to be an A-plot feature sometimes

[ct-hardcase]

I have to say, the payoff for Echo and Wrecker being my favorite batchers has absolutely sucked so far

#I love omega too but she’s doing fine #like echo’s lack of anything I’ll chalk up to plot reasons #(though I do think that there’d be more impact wrt him leaving if he actually got to be a member of the crew before #but wrecker? this episode was just insulting honestly #like yeah he’s quick to anger and doesn’t have foresight #but they’re treating him like an idiot to make Hunter and Tech look good #which tbf has been the case but I swear there was some emotional heart and intelligence to it in s1 #(afaik he did a lot of the confrontation with crosshair in the s1 finale) #and also was one of the most in-tune with Omega #now that they’re giving him less time for his emotional intelligence to shine through #and Omega hangs with the others more equally #and also they don’t really need a heavy weapons guy in most of their skirmishes #he just comes off as poorly-done comic relief #honestly it reminds me of the worst of Zeb’s writing #except he got to be an A-plot feature sometimes #like goddamn when the show does actual plot it’s not bad and I love Omega but tbh their character balance just does not do it for me #sw negativity #star dorks #temp clone tag

[fawnprincessblog]

𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.

(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)

includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.

bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3

“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 

Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.

Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 

He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.

The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 

Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 

“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 

She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 

“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 

“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.

“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 

His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 

An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 

She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 

The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 

“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”

“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 

He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 

But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 

“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.

“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 

“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.

Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…

“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?

He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.

“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”

“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 

“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”

“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.

“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.

“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 

“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 

“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.

What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”

“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 

He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  

He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.

“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 

He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 

“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 

“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.

“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 

Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 

“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 

Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 

“You may go now,” he says. 

“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.

Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.

#tokio hotel #love #boyfriend #tom kaulitz #smut #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader

[fleet-off]

@aantinous’s marvelous tags on this post reminded me of the silly li’l shapeshifter snake!Vegas AU @theflowergirl Lily and I came up with over DMs a while back!

Snake!Vegas slips into the main family home pretty regularly pre-canon. Sometimes to spy. Sometimes to ruin Tankhun’s afternoon.

One day Pete catches the snake mid-troll! Tankhun is very upset. Pete obliviously sticks the snake in a Tupperware in his room to let it go once his boss’s ire dies down.

He drops a little food in the Tupperware. He doesn’t know what snakes eat, but what’s good for Petes is probably good for snakes?

He has a nice little workout after his shift. A nice little shower. A nice little dance around the room in the half-nude.

That evening he releases the snake in the yard and moves on.

Except now the snake? Keeps showing up at odd times?? Pete could swear it’s the same snake. It doesn’t look like a local species, maybe it’s an escaped pet.

“Maybe it’s just looking for a home,” he thinks, and doesn’t think about why that hits him so hard.

(Meanwhile. Vegas was in it for the spying, the trolling, and the mild voyeurism but now it’s—oh. Oh, he’s? Keeping me safe? This is…new.)

So there’s a snake in Pete’s life now.

Occasionally there’s also a snake in Pete’s bed, which is always a fun discovery in the morning. Still, Pete can’t blame a snake for being coldblooded, can he? And the snake has a cute little :) face. And it hasn’t tried to bite him yet. It may be bonded?

This is normal and fine.

(Getting into Pete’s room involves sneaking out of the minor family home, traversing the main family grounds in serpent form, and sneaking all the way up to the bodyguard quarters. Vegas has not slept with one of Kinn’s escorts in ages—he simply does not have the time.)

(Look, he’s getting under the skin of this main family dog who keeps getting tasked to follow him. It’s funny.)

(It’s turning into instinct. Like birds flying back to the same forest, like turtles returning to the same beach.)

(If he thinks too hard about it, he’s not going to be able to justify it anymore—he does not think about it.)

Vegas’s torture suitcase contains syringes and vials of hallucinatory drugs and neurotoxins in this AU. Just BTW. <3

The plot still plots for the most part, Pete still gets captured…the torment at the safehouse, though, is less Vegas taking his helplessness out on the guy who ruined his plans and more Vegas oscillating emotionally between “he was kind to me nobody’s kind to me what the fuck” and “he’s a representation of my weakness, he was kind to an innocent animal and I was stupid enough to play along.”

The later realization that Pete would choose to show empathy to human Vegas too? Ruinous.

So Vegas comes to torment or talk to or feed Pete during the day…and the snake comes to curl around Pete’s ankle at night. Pete does not know how the hell his snake got here, but he’s pretty delirious and appreciates the small comfort even if it’s a hallucination.

And of course the truth has to come out at the safehouse, because all truths come out at the safehouse.

So it’s invasive, and weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess...but, like. Vegas was already invasive, weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess.

The home thing is starting to make more sense, for Pete. A lot of things are.

(Do some snake-y features show up during the sex, too? Little bit of fang action? Maybe!!)

So the collapse. The escape. The return to a normal no longer satisfied by its stasis.

The second night after Pete’s return, he finds a snake curled around the leg of his bed.

He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Miserably, he lifts the snake up onto the mattress beside him anyway.

Halfway through the night, he feels warm and solid and human curled up behind him. He doesn’t move.

In the morning, the snake is gone.

(How does this play out in the finale? Who knows. ^^)

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #fanfiction #fleet post #fleet fic

[strayed-quokka]

sex is overrated || ji changmin

» summary: you knew what you liked in the bedroom but men never seemed to take a hint. maybe it was your fault. or maybe they were just really fucking vanilla. nevertheless, your best friend is determined to prove to you that he knows exactly how to make a girl come, and you're no exception.

» pairing: ji changmin x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

» genre: best friends to lovers, ruin the friendship, smut, porn with some plot, a little fluff

» warnings: where to begin... dom changmin, sub reader, changmin is massive, fingering, oral (f & m), rough sex, face sitting, deep throating, squirting, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, chocking, restraints (pink handcuffs hello whisper), face fucking, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia if you squint (?), degradation, a nude photo, marking, biting, scratching, mild bruising, creampie, changmin is an aftercare king though... i think i got it all but will double check.

» words: 5,051

» a/n: whisper. that’s it. also probably the filthiest thing i've ever written so i'm going to pour some holy water now and pg-13 my eyes a little... feedback and comments are greatly appreciated x

Sex was always exaggerated pleasure. 

At least sex was never any good. Not good enough to justify laying naked in a stranger's bed before leaving early in the morning to go home. You weren’t sure if maybe there was something wrong with you, but they just all seemed to be so pathetically vanilla. 

“You look fucking miserable, jesus christ,” your best friend since a particularly terrible high school party a few years ago, Changmin, scowls at you, his hair unbrushed on his head and his eyes still tired. It’s surprising that he’s even awake. 

“I am miserable, Minnie,” he grimaces, grabbing another mug from the endless ones you both have (it may have something to do with your need to buy a disney themed one every time you see one), pouring you an extra large cup of black coffee. 

“I’m sorry angel,” he pouts, and you gratefully take the scolding beverage from him before adding some milk.

“Why are men so shit in bed? Why is sex so overrated?” the platinum blond young man seems unfazed at first, given that you’ve probably asked him this at least once every two weeks for the past year. He was used to it, and every time he could only offer the same few solutions. Tell them what they want, and trial and error it. It was never a one size fits all.

You knew that, but you were also impatient and in your sexual prime, and no one was satisfying you. You couldn’t remember when you’d last had an orgasm that you didn’t bring on yourself. Anyway, here you sit against the kitchen island with disappointment pulling all your features down, and your best friend sighs, “go shower. We can talk about it after.”

You listen to him. Changmin was probably the only man on this entire planet that you rarely if ever argued with. He just understood you, sometimes it made you even wonder if he read your journal, because how the hell did he just get it?

“Minnie, can I ask you a question?” you ask, brushing through your wet hair as the man looks at you when you come back into the room refreshed. You’re wearing his shirt again, legs bare, and he wishes he wasn’t so perfectly willing to give them all to you as if they belonged in your wardrobe more than in his. 

“Sure,” you put the brush down, thinking the question over in your mind before deciding to ask it anyway.

“Do you think you’re good in bed?”

It was probably the worst moment in time for Changmin to take a sip of his coffee, for now he was left choking and coughing horrifically while you reached around to pat his back. He was trying to remember in his mind if you’d ever asked him a question quite like this, but quickly determined that this may’ve been the boldest thing he’d ever been asked by you. 

It’s not that Changmin necessarily kept his sex life a secret from you, nor did you keep yours hidden, but you’d never directly asked him if he actually thought he was any good. 

“Are you asking me in hopes I say yes so you don’t entirely give up on your sexcapades?” 

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter across from him, “at least tell me you know how to make a girl come. That’s enough for me.”

He doesn’t know if the temperature in the room has risen or if he’s just warmer, but the vulgarity in which you ask makes him feel weaker. That being said, he liked to believe that he could confidently tell you that he could, and that it wouldn’t be a lie, “Are you telling me you’ve never once heard me had sex?”

Now it’s your turn to blush, turning your head away from him to stare at the wall ahead, “I mean… I wasn’t going to say it and embarrass you.” 

He likes this push and pull, the teasing nature that your question brought, and there’s something about you becoming more shy that makes him more confident, “you tell me then.”

He got you there. Not only had you heard some of the girls he’d been with, but they’d been more than vocal. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine ever being that loud, but then again, no one ever did anything that made you feel the need to scream.

“I have another question,” you start, and he nods as his lips turn upward into a grin, his deep dimples on full display for you. He’s nothing short of charming and sweet.

“You’re full of those today, aren’t you?”

“You sure they never faked it?”

Changmin can remember the few times he’s been rendered speechless, but none even came close to the way he falters now. He guesses there wasn’t ever a way of truly knowing, but it had been a long time since he felt like a girl wasn’t genuine with him. Honestly, the last time was probably back when he was still incredibly inexperienced. 

“Want to find out for yourself?” it’s an invitation that he doesn’t quite realise he’s given before it’s already too late, but he’s grateful that his voice always holds a hint of teasing so that if you completely turned away in disgust, he could somehow get away with it being a joke.

Both of you stand there silently, and Changmin is close to apologising for maybe crossing a line with you, but you cut him off first. 

“Okay,” he thinks he’s going crazy, like he’s hallucinating and losing his mind, but you don’t seem to back down, “but we should lay some ground rules first.”

Changmin didn’t know what he’d done in his life that resulted in him sat across from you at the dinner table with a notebook in front of him and a blue pen in hand writing down a list of what the two of you should be in agreement with before you’d have sex.

It sounded ridiculous, but he guessed this is how most friendships fell apart. There was always a risk involved. 

“Alright, let me see it,” he turns the notebook around towards you, and you read it all outloud one by one, pausing in-between to see if he has any objections or anything to add.

“If one of us feels uncomfortable we stop, no questions asked. If one of us catches feelings, we stop with no ill will and we won’t talk about it unless the person is okay with it. Traffic light system if ever necessary with tapping system if…” you pause, swallowing, “if traffic system can’t be used.”

Honestly, it makes you wonder what the hell you two may get up to, and it definitely makes you wonder if you should really be doing this. Changmin seems to see it too, the way you hesitate, “we don’t have to-”

“I know,” but you want to, “Minnie?”

“Hmm?”

“You remember what I like, right?”

“I mean… I know what you complain about when you come home unsatisfied, if that’s what you’re on about,” you nod, looking at the way his face illuminates with the dimmed light in the room. He’s beautiful. You've always thought it, but never had it been more than surface level admiration.

“Alright so…” this doesn’t feel natural. Maybe you need alcohol, but you also don’t want it to intoxicate your mind and hinder coherent thoughts. You just don’t know how to go about this. 

Changmin stands up, his chair dragging along the wooden floor when he does, “I mean… you’re free now, right?” 

It makes you laugh, getting up to briefly put your long empty mug in the sink before you jump up on the counter. His shirt rises with your movements and he moves closer to you instantly, already asking the next question, “can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” he waits an agonisingly long time before his eyes flutter closed and his lips fall onto yours, but it’s enough to make you wonder why the hell you both took so long to do this. He’s good at kissing you, quick with changing pace so that you don’t get bored and rough with his hands on your body. It’s exactly what you’d want, and you wonder if maybe Changmin paid even more attention to the things you’d carelessly said in the past than you thought. 

You moan against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth and roughly tugs at your hair, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as your legs part for him to stand between. It drives you wild, and you feel just a little pathetic with how good you feel from something as simple as a kiss.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he pants against your lips, pushing the fabric you’re wearing up above your hips, your lace black panties in full view for him and the man nearly falls to his knees for you then. There’s something about you that works similarly to a drug, and he can’t wait another second before he strips your (well, his), shirt off and throws it to the floor. 

“Fuck,” he’s eyeing you hungrily, and normally such a gaze at your bare body may leave you wanting to cover up. But the way Changmin looks at you is so desperate and hungry that you blurt out the next words before you’ve thought of it. 

“Take a picture,” he can’t believe his luck, nor does he know what galaxy he saved in another life, but he’s practically tearing his phone from his pocket and fumbling to unlock it, nearly dropping it in the process. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Changmin. I’m sure,” it’s all the reassurance he needs, and the image he takes is enough to make his cock hard and strain against his sweatpants painfully. He throws his phone to the side, pulling his own shirt over his head and your mouth nearly waters at the sight you’re met with.

“Minnie…” you drag his name out in a whine, and he’s pulling you to your feet and practically shoving you down onto your knees in an instant before him. 

“Yes, angel?” it’s a mocking tone, but the very way he speaks to you causes your pussy to clench and your underwear to cling to your folds. The fabric teases your clit when you move and the stimulation makes you quiver. 

“Look at you, are you that weak?” you whine, licking the prominent v-line along his muscular stomach, before dipping your tongue beneath the fabric of his sweats. The blissful curses that leave his mouth and the grip he has on the back of your head is enough for you to pull the grey offending trousers down, his cock springing free.

“F-fuck,” maybe you were slowly starting to understand why girls were so loud with him. His cock was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, even to the point where you maybe thought that it was too much. Not only was the length impressive, but it was thick, enough that you struggled to wrap your hand around the base. 

“Are you dumb off seeing my cock already? Haven’t even fucked you yet,” it was degrading maybe, to have him insult you, but you wanted him to. His words turned you on, and you stick your tongue out and place the head of his cock in your mouth. 

You feel him grip a handful of hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he steadies your head, your tongue lapping up his pre-cum and circling around the tip before you slowly try to ease him further into your mouth.

“Angel, you’re pathetic if that’s all you can take,” honestly, you’re inclined to agree. You’re barely halfway and your jaw already feels tense and your mouth feels full, but you try to relax and angle yourself slightly so that his cock pushes into your throat, “good girl.”

You cough, choking on your own spit and his cock but he keeps your head locked in place as tears spring to your eyes. It’s almost too much, but Changmin isn’t that cruel. He knows it and releases your head from his grip right after, allowing you to breathe. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he’s stunned into silence at first. Truly, he’d never met a girl so eager to have his cock in her mouth, but who is he to say no?

“Oh… was that not too much for you… hmm?” 

“I’ll tap you three times if it is,” a pause, and then you look up at him, “I promise.”

He knows you’ll hold yourself to it. Even if he’d never experienced you sexually, he knows that you don’t go above your limits, so he trusts that you’ll let him know if you can’t take it. 

“Open your mouth,” you obey eagerly, knees pushing further apart, and he’s pulling your hair and yanking your head back so you look up at him before he spits in your mouth.

Fuck, he even remembered that.

He guides your mouth back to his cock, and you angle yourself again to push him deeper down your throat. You stop when you gag, and he only pulls back just enough to stop you from choking. He’s still at first, as if studying your reaction, before he starts to move. 

Changmin is relentless. Once he decides a certain pace, then that’s the way he’s going. He fucks your throat completely dry, and you only manage to get air for the second he spends pulling out of you before his cock stuffs you full again. Tears fall from your eyes and you moan, causing vibrations to hit his cock that only urge him on while you claw at his skin by his hips, trying to hold on to anything so you don’t fall over, scratching him until red angry marks taint his otherwise perfect skin. 

“You’re gonna swallow all of my cum, aren’t you baby?” you whimper, feeling his cock twitch before he stills, holding your head in place as his cum shoots down your throat. You savour every drop, falling into his arms as he pulls you up to your feet and then up onto his waist, “you good?”

“Y-yes,” you clear your throat, letting him carry you over to his bedroom before he sits down on the edge, shuffling around with you on top of him. Your clothed pussy rubs against him and it makes you shake, even more when you realise that he’s pushing your body further up, “do you need a break?”

“No,” he nods, resting his head on a pillow whilst you straddle his chest. You think you have a minute to breathe, but then his hands grip your ass and forcefully drag you up until your clothed cunt is hovering right over his mouth. 

“Min-”

“Hmm?” he kisses your thigh, and you nearly debate telling him that he doesn’t have to make you come. That you believe him when he says he knows exactly how to pleasure someone. Yet you’re convinced you’ll never get the mental image of him between your thighs out of your mind any time soon, and you’ll be damned if you let this go. 

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were so wet,” he chuckles, kneading your ass as he leans up and kisses your clothed folds. Your entire body trembles, and you wonder if you may have an orgasm right then, “all because of my cock in your mouth, hmm?” 

“Y-yes,” he pushes the fabric to the side, licking up your juices like he’s starved off the taste of you, and you feel your wetness drip onto his lips. You’re a moaning mess above him, only made louder when he spanks your ass. 

“You’re such a slut, hmm?” you want to agree, but just as you’re about to, his tongue finds your clit and you lose it, pushing down enough to wonder if you’re suffocating him between your legs. If you are, Changmin doesn’t mind, for he keeps the rigorous pace and only occasionally stops when the fabric of your underwear slips back into place. 

He growls, dissatisfied, and eventually he grips both ends of the flimsy fabric and tears it in half. Every movement he makes feels so messy and hungry, but you know everything is perfectly calculated. 

His ring finger teases your entrance while his tongue is still teasing your clit, lightly sucking the flesh, and you definitely know he’s calculating everything when he pushes his finger into you just as he lightly bites down on the bundle of nerves. 

“Changmin!” it’s rare, almost never, that you use his full name. Usually it’s when you’re angry, but in this case, it’s because you’ve lost most ability to think and say the first thing that comes to your mind. 

“God, look how you clench around my finger,” he swears he sees stars with how tight you are, pushing another finger inside you to slowly open you up enough for his cock, his rings cooling against your heat. A string of curses fall from his lips, knowing it’ll likely require some patience if you’re already clenching around something so small. 

“F-fuck,” you rock your hips against him, and he uses his free hand to press your thighs down, holding them in place as he laps his tongue back over your folds to where his fingers scissor you open, before running up to your clit. There’s a familiar coil in your stomach, but it grows all too quickly and without any warning while you desperately struggle against his harsh grip on your legs and his eagerness to taste you, “Chan- ahh.”

You briefly wonder if you may pass out, your entire body rising up though he moves with you, not once letting his fingers move even an inch out of you as he feels you convulse and shake above him. 

It takes him another second to realise that you’ve squirted on his chest and up along his collarbone and neck when you rose up, and your cheeks go incredibly crimson when you realise that you’ve left him a complete mess. But to him, he’s never felt more accomplished in his life, “fuck, you’re doing that again.”

His fingers slip out of you, and he’s incredibly gentle when he lets you lay there to recollect your breathing and become aware of your surroundings again. You could safely say that not only could he make a girl come, but he’d given you the most intense orgasm of your life. 

“Can I restrain you?” 

The question catches you by surprise at first, and it takes pathetically long for you to react at first, “what for?” 

“When I fuck you,” your eyes open, and there he is, sweating, still glistening slightly from your own orgasm, cock fully erect and dimples showing as he smiles. 

He looks ethereal. 

“Unless you’d rather stop for today? If it’s too much-”

“No! No, please don’t stop,” he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes while he reaches over and kneads your ass cheeks again, occasionally offering a light spank that causes your body to ripple against the mattress, moans leaving your lips. 

You may lose your voice at this rate. 

“So… can I?” You think about it for a second, before ultimately nodding and deciding it’s something you’d like to try. 

“How do you want me?” 

“God, you can’t just say that. I might die,” you laugh, at least happy to know that you affect him just as much as he affects you. 

“But to answer the question…” he comes up behind you, chest pressing into your back as his cock grazes against your ass, making you subconsciously push against him, “I’d like you just like this.”

He adjusts the pillow, ensuring that your head is well rested if your hands are going to be bound against your back, limiting the amount of support you can give yourself. What shocks you the most is how the handcuffs he’d fished from his nightstand are not only a bright pink, but shaped like a heart, “didn’t take you as someone who’d have that.”

“Chanhee bought it as a joke. Don’t think he’d assume I’d actually use it,” you chuckle, briefly thinking of your friend who really probably didn’t think much of it (or maybe he did know), whilst Changmin restrains your wrists and tightens the metal, “too much?”

“No… but not tighter, please?” Changmin obeys, doesn’t push where he feels like he shouldn’t and instead pushes your knees apart, your pussy coated in your juices and now in full view for him as he’d stripped you off your last item of clothing.

An item that you could honestly throw away. 

“Just tell me if you want me to free you,” but you don’t think you’ll want him to. Something about giving him complete control over you whilst he fucks you from behind makes you question your sanity, because you feel like you’ve never wanted anything else more. 

The tip of his bare cock teases your entrance and you whimper, especially when he stills “can I fuck you raw?” 

“Yes,” you'd expected an internal debate in your mind that never comes. You always used condoms. Hell, you couldn’t remember when you last didn’t, but you wanted to feel every inch of his cock inside you and suddenly that internal thought process didn’t matter. You were on birth control anyway. 

“You’re going to kill me,” he slowly pushes his cock inside your sopping cunt, groaning at how tight you feel. He was going to have to take it inch by inch, quite literally, and the very thought was agonising to him. 

“F-fuck… you don’t fit,” you’re laughing, and at least knowing that you’re amused has him relaxing from the thought of thinking he was causing you pain. He laughs with you, but it’s quickly lost as he pushes himself deeper inside you, the sound strangled in his throat, “oh my god.”

“You still have a bit more than half, you know?” 

“Shut up, there’s no w- mhmm,” he shuts you up with a rather deep push of his hips, splitting you open around his shaft, “now it’s about half.”

He’s teasing you again, but it’s so incredibly hot that you don’t care. You’re convinced that Changmin is the sexiest man in the world with the way he’s set on fucking you stupid.

It’s never taken you this long to adjust to someone’s length and girth, but it’s a good few more minutes of Changmin pushing a little more every time until your ass finally meets his hips, “god, look at you. You’re drooling.”

He chuckles, and you realise he’s right, moaning as you feel yourself clench around him unintentionally. He really has you forget all coherent thought, completely unaware of your own reactions “you can move.”

The platinum blond does not need to be told more than once. He’s been waiting to move, been desperate to, as he moves in slow and languid thrusts, like he needs you to feel every inch of his cock inside you, “mhmm, more.”

“Already? Can you take it?” You nod, feeling him hold your head down against the pillow, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as he quickens his pace. You cry out his name almost instantly, screaming it over and over from the pleasure you feel, though it’s partially muffled. 

“How good you take my cock.”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, feeling a sharp sting to your ass, but before you have time to respond, he’s taken the same hand he used to pull you up by the handcuffs that bind your wrists, your back twisted while he grips your hair and pulls you back into his shoulder, “h-harder.”

“Still?” he groans, obliging as he quickened his pace, his other free hand going around your waist and to your stomach, and he swears he can feel his cock inside you with every thrust, “mhmm fuck… I can feel my cock inside you.”

“Fuck... oh fuck, C-Changmin!” you wish your hands were free so you could touch him, but instead you have to rely on him to hold you up as he roughly pounds into you with no remorse. The pleasure becomes overbearing, but it’s brought to its peak when he dares test the waters with something you’d only mentioned once as something you wanted to try. 

His hand that had been gripping your hair snakes around your throat, and at first he only squeezes lightly to see how you respond, if he should stop or keep going. 

“C-Changmin! G-god. Please,” you whimper, tears falling from your eyes once again from the pleasure and he grins, biting down on your shoulder. 

“Whore,” he groans, tightening the hand he has around your neck just slightly as he breathes into your ear, his grip enough to cause the oxygen in your brain to short circuit but not enough to make you feel in pain or like you’re in danger. 

If your hands were free, you honestly think you’d make him grip you harder, and you know you’re about to fall over the edge.

It’s your inability to freely move and the way he holds you in place exactly the way he wants you with his cock deep inside you that makes you scream his name one more time, so loud that you'd be more surprised if the neighbours didn't hear it, your entire body shaking and clenching on his cock as you mess the sheets with your orgasm. 

It’s the stimulation around his cock and the tightness that makes him lose control, and a mangled cry of your name leaves his lips when his cum spills into you, coating your walls and leaving you to collapse as he loses his strength to hold you, pleasured groans falling from his chapped lips.

You fall onto the bed, hands still bound behind your back with Changmin falling right next to you. Neither of you say anything, but both your heavy breaths are loud in the room as you try to collect yourself. 

“We should shower,” you whine as a response, because you honestly don’t think you can move. Changmin doesn’t think he can either, but there’s no way he’s letting you lay in the mess you made with his cum still spilling out of you. 

As absolutely feral and possessive as that makes him. 

Your best friend unbinds the pink cuffs keeping your wrists together, wincing slightly as he sees how harshly you tugged at it even with the room he’d left. He brings them both to his lips, kissing the faint bruising as an apology falls from his mouth, but you don’t want him to be sorry.

“Please, if you dare apologise for the best sex of my life, I’ll kill you,” he chuckles, and you reach out lazily to poke his dimples, smiling when he squirms. 

“I’ll get you ice at least,” he finally gets up, and while the muscles in his body scream at him, he lifts you up into his arms and into the bathroom, setting you down in the tiled shower whilst adjusting the temperature of the water. 

“Wait here,” you nod, sat on the tiled floor in the shower as the water falls onto you, though you find it quite comfortable. Changmin comes back not long after, a few ice cubes wrapped around a towel that he holds to your wrist, kissing your forehead softly while brushing through your knotted hair. He’s completely different now, caring for you, and your heart swells in affection for him. 

“Can I wash you?” you nod, and you sit there with him whilst he rubs your body wash over your skin and then his own, making sure you’re both clean and taking his time as he does. He winces at the faint bruising on your hip and around your shoulder where he’d bitten your skin, but you glare at him, reminding him not to think about it. 

“Don’t pout about it,” you remind him, and he nods as he slowly begins to massage your scalp with your conditioner. 

He cares for you so much, and you’ve never felt it more than now, still trying to recollect your thoughts while he ensures you’re okay even when his own exhaustion is threatening to have him pass out on you. 

He even makes the bed for you both while you just sit and wait, fluffing the pillows for him, dressed in a new shirt of his while he's just adorning a pair of black boxers, and when he reaches for you to fall into his arms, you’re more than happy to. 

You think with how you’re spent, you’d fall asleep in an instant, but instead you lazily brush Changmin’s hair from his forehead and kiss his shoulder. He lets you do whatever you want, watching you with a deep adoration and love, but it doesn’t scare you. 

It doesn’t scare you, because you know when you look at him, it wasn’t just you who’d failed at keeping your feelings away. 

“I love you,” he’s surprised to hear you say it first, but the warmth in his chest and the smile that threatens to slip just make you want to say it again and again. 

“I love you too,” you nestle into his shoulder, still lazily playing with his hair while one of his hands hovers over your thigh, the other behind your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content. 

“Also… next time, I’ll be the one leaving bruises,” Changmin laughs, and it’s a sound that brings you complete peace. 

“I’m holding you to that but..." he pushes the fabric of his boxers down past his hipbone, revealing aggressive red marks that you barely remember leaving. There's a silence first, before you lean close and kiss the broken skin, "oh, please don't do that. I'll want to ruin you again."

You oblige. As desirable as the thought is, you're both tired, and you lay there silently for a few more minutes until he breaks it to ask you a question that's been on his mind since your first orgasm, "still think sex is overrated?"

You throw a pillow right onto his smug face as your answer.

well... i wrote that... i actually can't believe the ideas in my brain sometimes. also the resitance to switch it to another member because i'm weak for them??? guess we writing more boyz ✌️🥵

#the boyz smut #changmin smut #q smut #ji changmin #the boyz changmin #changmin x reader #the boyz q #smut #the boyz #the boyz changmin smut #q x reader #tbz x reader #tbz #whisper made me do it #tbz fluff #fluff if you swuint #changmin fluff #q fluff

[tboyblogger]

finally finished the profile for the danseiroido!! this took way too long just because drawing anime headshot is my biggest nightmare... and then ended up not even looking That anime LOL... i've already had a few comics up in the tag (search em to read!) but. a brief intro is that i basically just made them idols (somewhat) and threw them in the same boygroup to write sitcom/4-koma slice of life random jokes, as i always do! they also share the same universe with my entire vocaloid neighborhood setup (but this will - might - be for another day)

there isnt a deep overarching plot as for now, its just daily lives of a boygroup that doesnt really do anything idol-like and occasionally featuring others around them from the vocal synth ville. oh and idk if i can call them a polycule because they dont really think or operate that way But! i do want all of them to fool around and have their own "ship moment" (if you want to call it that? i dont really label these things and i want to write it that way) tldr they all fuck one another. every single ship in the group canon (EXCEPT the obvious anyone x len. timeout for him he got his ass kicked out whenever they do it...)

my concept/idea for it (not much tbh this is just me rediscovering my love for vocaloid - though one can argue it never went away - and started make up random shits for them so its pretty much spontaneous and not a serious project or anything) is a parody of sort on stereotypical otome/bl genres and boygroups and anime tropes and obviously the vocaloid fandom/history. but i dont think i know enough about bl nor anime nor boygroups so at the end of the day its just guys hanging out XD hm i should just tag my other vocaloid stuff something else too considering its an elaborated world now, with these guys in it, but... that... really is for another day...

wait forgot to say also making len the leader is idk vocaloid meta funny or sth since hes the most popular but here hes just a wee child not even allowed to getting involved much (to be fair its cause most of the involvement are either freakish or sexual. or both) hes already more than involved in the irl success go away little boy. but Boom! funny ass kid leading army of 6 gay ass men (one of them isnt even a man. but only when its convenient) (sometimes there are 7 of them)

also: everyone learn vietnamese to understand how funny their viet names are rn

SORRY I KEEP EDITING. but they also have a playlist... just for funsies. some of them are serious canon lore related the rest are probably all shitposts

#tp drawing #vocaloid #danseiロイド #danseiroido #kagamine len #utatane piko #roro #yohioloid #kaito #kamui gakupo #hiyama kiyoteru

[ugh-yoongi]

you suck! | ksj

(or, the one where everything goes very wrong but a lot more goes very right.)

→ pairing: vampire!seokjin x f. reader → genre: supernatural; strangers to lovers; roommates; crack, fluff → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex work, taekook are also chaotic vampires, a lot of twilight references for someone who has never seen or read it, completely made up and non-canonical vampire lore, a teeny-tiny bit of angst, jin’s forehead has powers or something, jin takes dick pics on a polaroid (canon), one very purposely awkward smut scene that includes: slight praise kink, unprotected sex, oral, kissing. overall this is very soft and they are just two idiots very in love, your honor. → wordcount: 18.3k → a/n: i started this almost exactly a year ago after buying this print from @yelhsaart​ and becoming completely obsessed with it. i just wanted to write jin as a goofy, idiot (affectionate) vampire. as i said in the warnings, the vampire lore is completely made up here. some of it is canon, some of it is inspired by the wayhaven chronicles, some of it is just plot device. don’t take it too seriously. → thank yous: lauren, for once again being my beta and telling me when my brain writes sentences that don’t make sense. jess, for being born today — happy birthday, this is my lame and completely self-serving gift to you. bee, for always encouraging my chaos.

You were fifteen the first time you were mistaken for someone else.

It’d been a guy in the grocery store, a bag of lemons in his hand and a confused expression on his face. He’d tapped you on the shoulder, started talking at you like the two of you were well-acquainted before you’d even turned around, and he’d seemed startled when he realized you weren’t who he was expecting you to be.

Sorry, he’d said. You looked just like my daughter from behind.

The second time had been during college: a girl had caught up to you in the quad. Had been calling out a name that certainly wasn’t yours and had grabbed your elbow when you hadn’t responded to it. She’d looked horrified when you weren’t who she’d been looking for, either, and stuttered out an apology as she let you go.

Oh my god, I’m so sorry, you just—you looked just like my friend.

You’d looked like the granddaughter of the elderly man who lived in your mom’s neighborhood. You’d looked like the mother of a kid who’d gotten lost at the mall. Even your friends got mixed up sometimes during nights out—approached strangers they thought were you at the bar, danced with them in nightclubs, drunkenly clung to them at parties.

Your mother had told you once that you just had one of those faces—a top ten anime betrayal coming from her, considering she’d been responsible for half your genetic makeup. Sure, you’re pretty, but it’s always been a common beauty; soft, delicate features where others might have more striking ones. And it’s�� fine. Maybe you’d gone through bouts of insecurity every time the world deemed some new feature desirable and you didn’t have it, but you’d always been able to move on.

Except now.

Because now—now you’re wondering if having one of those faces is how you find yourself in this situation.

In a dark alley in between the club and a 24-hour convenience store as a tall, broad-shouldered man with long, very sharp teeth tries—and fails—to sink them into your neck.

He coughs awkwardly, pulls back as he tightens his grip on your waist. Your back is pressed to his chest, so it’s not like you can see his face, but you think if you could there’d be a very perplexed look on it. “Well, this is awkward, huh?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

“Hm. Do… do you think they were pranking me?” he asks, and despite the situation in which you’ve found yourself, you find a sliver of comfort in the overfamiliarity in his tone. As if the two of you are old friends who talk all the time and there’s absolutely nothing weird about this. “Because I’ve gotta say, I’ve done this a lot and this is a first for me.”

There’s no reason whatsoever for the way your belly flips at his statement. He’s a vampire, for fuck’s sake. Of course he’s bitten a lot of people. But it still wounds your ego that you’re just another proverbial notch in this guy’s neckpost. “P-Pranking you? Who would do that?”

The man scoffs and you can feel the vibrations against your skin. “You clearly haven’t met my clan. We got these two new guys, right? And they’re nice, you know? I like them a lot. As much as I can like someone, I guess. But fuck they’re annoying. Really young. Like to fuck around, especially with me since I’m so much older, and I should’ve known this is something they’d do—”

This has to be a dream, you think. There’s no way this is real. You’d stumbled into the alley to find your friend who’d gone for a smoke and never returned, and now you’re here. There’s a vampire at your back, talking your ear off about fuck knows what after having unsuccessfully tried to bite you, and he’s still pawing at your waist with his superhuman strength. And it hurts but you’re too nervous to bring it up, because what if you do and he remembers he’s supposed to be killing you, and that’s it? You’ll be a goner all because you had a brief, fleeting moment of stupidity, like the kid back in high school that always asked the teacher if they were going to collect the homework after they’d forgotten. Everyone hated that kid, and you’ve learned nothing.

You swallow. “I-I don’t think they pr-pranked you,” you stutter out. “I, uh… I just have one of those faces? Maybe you just thought I was someone else?”

“Someone else?” he repeats, and his grip finally loosens. He doesn’t let you go, because this is how you’re destined to die, but his hands move to your shoulders to turn you around.

Because your brain is the ultimate betrayer, your first thought is holy fucking shit. Your second thought questions the word selection in your first thought, because this very beautiful man in front of you is a vampire and would probably hiss and go up in smoke if you said the word ‘holy’ in front of him. And your third thought is, well—it’s not an appropriate thought to be thinking about a man who’d just tried to bite you and drink you dry, to say the least.

“You seem weirdly okay with me being a vampire.”

See, here’s the thing: you’re not going to pretend you know the ins and outs of vampire culture or whatever, but you’ve always known they exist. Not even an open secret or anything. Not a secret at all. That’s just the world you were born into. So, really, there’s no excuse for your reply to be, “It’s fine, I’ve seen Twilight.”

Because here’s the second thing: yes, you’ve always known vampires exist, but they’re still something to be feared. Still an apex predator stalking the shadowed parts of the city once the sun goes down. Long ago, the human world made accommodations for them so the two of you could coexist, but they were put in place for the same reason they started putting seatbelts in cars: no guarantee they’ll save your life, but it’s the best chance you’ve got at staying alive.

“Wow,” the vampire deadpans. “Okay. Let me tell you all the problems I have with that movie—”

You’re shaking like a leaf as you blurt out, “I guess I’m just in shock that I’m still alive so I’m saying stupid stuff,” and it comes out all breathy.

He stops rambling then. Snaps his jaw closed and looks down at you with what you’d call concern if he was human and hadn’t just tried to kill you. “Oh shit,” he says. Then he’s shucking off his thick coat and wrapping it around your shoulders, and if you hadn’t been in a daze before, you sure are now. “Here, take this. Wow, I have no manners. My mother would be so pissed if she heard about this. Please don’t tell her, she’ll stake me.” All you can do is nod; it’s not like you know his mother. Maybe she’s nice.

The coat just… feels like a coat. There’s no residual body heat lingering in the wool, which makes sense, but you’re thankful for the extra layer all the same. You’d told your friends going to a club in early January was stupid, but you’d only been thinking in terms of hypothermia or the common cold or looking like an idiot for being the person who orders a cup of hot tea at the bar. Small picture stuff. Encountering a vampire hadn’t even made your list of concerns, which is probably why the universe chose you to star in this moment out of everyone else on the planet.

(The universe does love a good bit of irony.)

Then, as if you hadn’t already made yourself look like a fool, the vampire’s eyebrows knit together as he says, “Also, whoa, hey, I wasn’t—I wasn’t gonna kill you.” He’s looking at you with such concern that it just makes you feel stupid. A vampire pities you.

Maybe it’s adrenaline or maybe you’ve just had a very, very fucked up night, but your cheeks are burning before you know it and fat, hot tears are rolling down your face. The vampire really looks concerned now, which just makes everything worse. “I’m s-sorry,” you manage to blubber out. “You—you probably d-don’t have to deal with ma-many crying girls, huh.”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Well, no.” He scratches the back of his neck, and it’s the first time since he’d grabbed you earlier that you’re without both of his hands on you. They hadn’t been warm, but you find yourself missing the weight regardless. “I mean, like—sometimes people look like they… want to? I can sense they’re scared of me, but usually I… you know… before they start doing… um, this.”

Great. Not only had you been unkillable, you’re also the first victim to have a mental break in front of him. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. Now you’re upset and embarrassed. “I can’t believe you eat people for a living and I wasn’t even good enough to get murdered,” you wail.

Had you been looking, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic that flickers across the vampire’s face. He looks absolutely frazzled in a way that would’ve made you laugh. Maybe it would've made you feel just the tiniest bit better, because this is uncharted territory for both of you. If you feel lost at encountering your first vampire—whose coat you’re still wrapped in, nonetheless—that anxiety is amplified tenfold for the man in front of you. Imagine his shock when he’d tried to bite you and quickly discovered you had the Fort Knox of necks.

“Hey now,” he says, doing his best to shush you. He already knows he’s in for a reaming for outing himself to a human; the last thing he needs is to be caught by anyone else. “Anyone would be lucky to murder you. You’re totally good enough! Don’t say things like that about yourself.”

It takes a few seconds, but he seems to register his words at the same time you wail harder. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. Oh wow, I’m so bad at this. I just—I meant you’re… you know.” A grimace mars his otherwise beautiful face, a silent prayer for you to somehow just know what he’d meant because there’s no way he’s going to be able to explain it. “Also, hey, what the fuck! Let’s rewind to what you said for a second. I don’t eat people, first of all, and I certainly don’t eat them for a living.”

All you can do is blink up at him. “Oh.”

The vampire scoffs, and you think there’d be a blush creeping up his neck if he was able to do such a thing. “Eat people for a living,” he repeats. “Like I’m some competitive eater. Of people.”

“Okay,” you murmur, and it’s a struggle to even get out such a simple word. “Can, um—if you’re not going to kill me, can I—can I… go?”

“Oh,” the vampire deadpans, looking down at you before his eyes move to his large hands, still gripping your shoulders. “Whoops. Technically I’m not supposed to let you go—job and life insurance, I’m sure you understand—but since you’re not biteable, I don’t see why not.”

A small glimmer of hope parts the proverbial clouds above your head. Sends your adrenaline spiking, and you’re still trembling but the thought of being able to see your cat again dampens it just enough. Truth be told, you’ve always known Xander was a bit of a problem child. Definitely not a cat anyone would willingly take ownership of in the unfortunate event of your premature death. So, yeah—the thought of Xander nibbling on your toes as you sleep in your own bed in your own apartment is a really comforting thought after thinking you were going to be murdered by a vampire in a sketchy alley in the not-great part of the city.

Once the vampire’s grip on you loosens, you shrug out of his coat and hand it over. “Thanks. Let’s do this again sometime, hm?”

You feel yourself blanch. “Um—”

“Geez, I’m joking!” he assures you. Is it weird to find a vampire’s laugh endearing? Because you do, and you question all of your life choices in the span of six seconds. “Wow, you’re really uptight, huh?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t tried to bite me,” you quip, face beginning to flush with anger. He just laughs harder.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to mention,” you continue, a manicured finger jabbing into his chest, “you totally ruined my night. My friends dragged me out to celebrate me, you know? I finally got that promotion at work that should’ve been mine years ago, but my shitty boss gave it to Steve! Fucking Steve. But I finally got it, so my friends were like, ‘Oh my god, let’s go out to celebrate! We’ll buy all your drinks!’ Which—do you know how fucking cheap my friends are? They never pay for drinks! I was drinking on an unlimited tab, and you ruined it, you fucking dickhead! And I’m gonna have to go back to therapy!”

The vampire just looks amused, now. Cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side with a bemused little smirk that drives you crazy in the bad way. “Ah, I should’ve known. You did taste an awful lot like a soulless office worker.”

You scoff. “And how would you know? You couldn’t even bite me.”

His eyes narrow, a sliver of a glare that might be intimidating had you not heard his squeaky laugh. “I did enough to get the idea.” You roll your eyes. “The gist. A waft. A—”

“Aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have some other innocent person to chew on?”

“Chew—wow. And to think I was going to offer to walk you home!”

Involuntarily, your jaw drops. “And what makes you think I would’ve accepted? That’s easily the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“You think I’m the only vampire hanging arou—”

“Lurking,” you interject. “Skulking. Creepily hiding in a bush. Not hanging around.”

The vampire blinks once, twice. Takes a steadying breath and says, “I should’ve eaten you.”

You shrug. “But you can’t, so.” Then your two brain cells connect. “Wait, does that mean all vampires can’t bite me? Am I immune? Is this my superhero origin story?”

“It’s giving me a fucking migraine, is what it is.”

You huff. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because I don’t know the answer.”

“Oh, you weren’t granted infinite wisdom in your old age?”

“Who are you calling old?” he snaps. “I’m the third-youngest in my clan, I’m not old.”

“Are you older than one hundred?” He nods. “Two hundred?” He nods again. “Then you’re fucking old. That’s, like, more than double my lifespan.”

He rolls his eyes. “How old are you, then?”

“Twenty-seven.” His eyes widen a bit, like he’s prompting you to continue. “What? I’m twenty-seven.”

It’s a weird thing, watching the color drain from a vampire’s face. Not that you’ve ever been an expert, but you had seen both Twilight and Interview with the Vampire so you’d assumed they’d all be pale. Devoid of warmth all over. Cold hands, pallid skin, no heartbeat. So it freaks you out to watch the vampire in front of you go white as a ghost.

“Oh my god,” he moans, panic overtaking his features. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god—”

“You can say that?”

“Holy fucking shit,” he chants instead, eyes darting around the alley like he’s hoping a bush will materialize so he can dry-heave into it. “Oh my god, I cannot believe—oh shit, oh fuck, oh no—”

You click your tongue, heeled boots stomping on the asphalt. “What is your problem? You look like you’re about to croak over and die.”

He turns to you, then, eyes as big as the moon. There’s a grimace on his face you’d only seen that one time you’d tricked your cousin’s kid into sucking on a lemon. “You’re my problem! I almost ate a literal infant!”

“Excuse me—”

“Twenty-seven? Are you joking? Do you want me to go to prison?”

“For trying to murder me? Yeah, it’d be a good fucking start!”

The vampire pulls at his hair, clearly exasperated. “For the last time—I was not going to kill you!”

“Oh, right, you were just going to nibble on me a bit! The human can have a little exsanguination, as a treat.”

“Is that what the kids call a may-may? Because I don’t understand that reference.”

You make a gagging sound. “What the fuck? You mean a meme?”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway—”

“Right. Doesn’t matter. I’m taking an Uber home, anyway. I live too far to walk.”

Awkwardly, the vampire clears his throat. “I should walk you.” As you move to protest, he sends you an apologetic smile. “I’m not the, uh—the only one who’d want to eat you.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really trying to tell me my Uber driver’s gonna be a vampire?”

“It’s not an uncommon side hustle,” he retorts, offense painted across his features.

You pause, head tilted to the side as you try to determine if he’s messing with you. “Are you messing with me?”

“No…?”

“Really?” you deadpan. “You really expect me to believe there are vampires out there moonlighting as Uber drivers?”

He scoffs. “Well, we certainly can’t daylight as them, now can we?”

And that’s the story of how a vampire walks you back to your apartment.

It’s cold and it’s a long walk, takes the better part of an hour and that’s with a few shortcuts sprinkled in. Your companion talks the entire way, never shuts up even for a second, and you wonder if all vampires are as talkative as him or if you’d just run into one who’s kind of annoying but chivalrous and charming, somehow. He lends you his coat again and pops into the convenience store to buy you gloves and a cup of coffee. You jokingly ask if he bought them with money from his part-time rideshare gig and you learn he has a contagious laugh.

You also learn his name is Seokjin.

By the time you reach your door, you also-also learn you’re far more endeared to him than you should be.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is for this,” Seokjin says, scratching at the back of his neck. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he peers down at you, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I’ve never done the walk of shame back to my own clan.”

You snort. “I can do your makeup and let you borrow a dress and some heels if you want the full experience.”

There’s a riposte on the tip of his tongue that rapidly melts away, his eyes softening as his mouth opens and snaps shut a few times. “Most people wouldn’t say it like that,” he says, voice quiet like he’s telling you a secret.

“Like what?”

“Full experience,” he quotes back to you. “Most of them would probably say human experience.”

“Ah.” You smile, moving to wipe nonexistent dirt from the lapel of his coat. It’s obscene, the way it stretches across his broad shoulders. “Trust me, you don’t want the human experience. It’s all student loan debt and unrealistic beauty standards and oh my god I have to figure out what to cook and eat for dinner literally every single night until I die and doing math to figure out if the nineteen streaming services you’ve signed up for are actually cheaper than just getting cable.”

“Sounds terrible,” he jokes. But you can see it, the sadness that lies dormant in him. Not that it’s much of a shock. Whatever kind of life he lived before this is most likely centuries in the past, long gone but not entirely forgotten.

So it’s purely out of empathy and the depressing look on Seokjin’s face that you say, “Hey, wanna come in and meet Xander?”

He startles, back suddenly ramrod straight. “Xander?”

“My cat. He’s a bit of a hellspawn but you two seem like you’d get along, for obvious reasons.”

“Are you calling me a hellspawn?” he teases, eyebrow quirked.

You shrug. “I’m not-not calling you one.”

There’s his squeaky laugh again. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not sure you know exactly what you’re offering, so I’m going to do the responsible thing and decline.”

“Why, are you on some kind of housecat-only diet or something?”

He laughs again, harder this time, and you find yourself wishing you were funnier just so you can hear it all the time. Laughter looks good on him. “No. A lot of vampire lore is bullshit, but the one about needing to be invited into someone’s home is true.”

“Oh.” You think on it for approximately four seconds. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you can eat me, right?” Still, Seokjin shrugs, almost looking sheepish. “Okay,” you say, hands raised in defense. “I won’t force you. I’m a big believer in consent and respecting boundaries. But you’re always welcome to come by if you’re feeling lonely. You know where I live now.”

It takes a minute for your words to sink in. Seokjin’s face, which had been flushed from both the cold wind and his incessant laughter, seems to soften at your offer. Then, it’s in a hoarse, croaking voice that he asks, “Why?”

And all you can think to say is, “I don’t know, you just look like you need a friend.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

You never should’ve seen Seokjin again.

The memory of him should’ve been lodged into an unused crevice of your mind—some dusty, cobweb-covered wrinkle that also housed lyrics to one-hit wonders from the ‘90s and the formulas for trigonometric ratios. Sine, cosine, and tangents may have been lost to the recesses of your mind forever, but Seokjin hadn’t.

Which is why you’re shocked when he shows up at your doorstep a mere two weeks after the night he’d tried to bite you.

“Seokjin?” you stupidly ask. Of course it’s him. You’ve made a lot of questionable choices in your life, but meeting and somehow befriending multiple vampires isn’t one.

He looks different, though. His once-dark hair is now a pale shade of pink, longer than it had been the last time you’d seen him, secured loosely to the crown of his head. Stray strands frame his face—a face that you wouldn’t admit to being handsome, even under duress and especially now—and it’s scattered with tiny cuts and dried blood, a purple bruise beneath his right eye, streaks of dirt down his cheeks.

To put it mildly, he looks like shit.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Seokjin’s frazzled. Can’t seem to concentrate on anything. “Can I come in?” he asks, and even his voice sounds rough.

Judging from the last time you’d invited him into your apartment, you know he wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. You know the weight those words carry. “Yeah,” you answer instantly, opening your door wider. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”

You steer him toward the couch, depositing him there as you fetch a blanket and wrap it around those god-forsaken shoulders of his. This is normally the part where you’d offer to make him something—coffee, a cup of tea, something bitter and alcoholic—but you’re not sure what he drinks other than blood. Which is not a thing you have outside of your body.

It all makes you feel really helpless. You barely know Seokjin. Probably shouldn’t have entrusted him with irrevocable access to your apartment. Definitely shouldn’t have done that, in retrospect, but he’d just looked so dejected. What were you supposed to have done? Those sad eyes of his had thrown a lasso over your head and roped you in before you could even think about it.

And now here you are.

Nine-o’clock on a Saturday night. Previously alone in your apartment, because one near-death experience was enough to put you off clubbing for a while. A knock on your door. A mysterious man on the other side. He has sharp teeth. Once tried to use you as a chew toy. Grass is green, water is wet.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, unsure of what to do with your hands. You’re tactile. Always have been. The hugger of your friend group, so you want to reach out for him, comfort him somehow, but you’re not sure if you should. If he’d want that.

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh, finally looking up at you. Exhaustion is all you can see. “Maybe just some water.”

You nod. You can do water, had even gotten one of those fancy pitchers with a filter as a housewarming gift to yourself. You even manage to change it regularly and on time, a water-based ‘fuck you’ in the face of adulting and everyone who says it’s difficult.

(It is very difficult.)

But hey, you’re managing to save both the environment and downtrodden vampires alike, so you deserve to feel that tiny sliver of pride.

Water acquired, you offer it to Seokjin who accepts it with trembling hands. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, because you can’t really say you’re saving a downtrodden vampire if you don’t even know why he’s slumped against your couch.

“Not really,” he grumbles.

With a sigh, you plop onto the couch next to him, hands once again itching to reach out and comfort him in some way. “Can I touch you?” you ask, and once he nods, you maneuver him so he’s laying on his side with his head in your lap, fingers immediately busying themselves in his blush-colored locks. “Is this okay?” Seokjin nods again.

That’s how the two of you remain until you can feel the tension slowly melt away. Could be minutes, could be hours. You’re not sure. All you know is someone had shown up at your doorstep asking for help and that sometimes it’s nice to run your fingers through someone else’s hair. Gently untangle someone else’s knots. Scratch lightly at someone else’s scalp.

You try not to think much of it beyond that. You don’t think about Seokjin being a vampire. Don’t think about the fact you barely know him. Definitely don’t think about the fact he’d tried to bite you. It all seems a bit inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, species be damned.

Finally, long after you think Seokjin’s fallen asleep, he asks, in a faint voice you’ve only heard from him once, “What do you usually do?”

You hum. Wonder if Seokjin can feel it. “What do you mean? Like, when I’m sad?” He nods, a quiet yeah. “Mm. Depends on why I’m sad, I guess. Usually a long shower and a glass of wine if it’s just a bad day. Trashy reality TV and ice cream if it’s more serious.”

This seems to pique his interest. “What are those?” he asks, sitting up so he can stare at you with wide, curious eyes. The water sloshes in the glass.

“Huh?”

“Those things you said.”

“Trashy reality television and ice cream?” Seokjin nods, more strands of hair falling from the topknot. “You’ve never watched reality TV?”

“Don’t watch TV at all.”

“What.”

He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “I’m busy, okay? I don’t have time for things like that.”

“Aren’t you immortal?” you quip. “You have, like, unlimited time.”

Seokjin levels you with a look—one that clearly says what the hell do you know about being immortal and also time management? You ignore it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a very addictive personality. I can’t get sucked into television. I’ll never stop watching it.”

“That’s fair,” you acknowledge. “You’re so far behind it’d be, like, impossible to catch up, anyway.”

His gaze narrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the first television broadcast aired in 1928. That’s almost a century’s worth of stuff to catch up on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, but surely not all of it is worth watching,” Seokjin replies, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hair. You confirm his words with a noncommittal hum. “What’s your favorite?”

“Season five of Love Island UK.”

“That’s it? Only one show?”

You scoff. “There’s no only about it. It’s got everything you could ever want in trashy reality television, okay? Especially after Casa Amor—”

“I don’t know what that means.”

You pause. As much as you’d love to go on a tirade about Anna and Jordan—and, really, you’ve been waiting for this, having been limited to barely legible tweets that went ignored since your friends refuse to watch it—Seokjin’s right. He has no idea what any of this means. “Oh. Well, you can start with something easier. You don’t want to peak too early, you know? All TV post-Love Island will just be a letdown.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees easily, “we wouldn’t want that.”

“It’d be very tragic,” you tack on. Seokjin just nods.

Although he seems a bit more comfortable, he’s still obviously restless. Crooked fingers have been picking at the pilling of his sweater since he sat down. There’s a small pile of it on the floor, right at his feet, that he’s oblivious to. Not that you’re going to mention it, either, but the last thing you need is for Xander to eat it and hack up some disgusting combination of hairball and sweater fuzz, so when Seokjin isn’t looking you subtly push it under the couch with your foot.

Knowing this is a situation that requires precise delicacy, you clear your throat and angle your body in a way that conveys optimal comfort for the recipient, and say, “Not that I mind sharing my streaming passwords with you, but do you mind if I ask why you’re here?”

Seokjin sucks in a breath that he aborts halfway. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales heavily, the weight of the world almost visible on his shoulders. As a soulless office worker, as Seokjin had once kindly called you, you’ve seen your fair share of exhaustion—coworkers slumped over at their desks during overtime, those still fighting hangovers on Monday mornings at the coffee machine, the last day in the office before a holiday break—but Seokjin looks… different. It’s a different kind of exhaustion, you think; one bone-deep instead of artificial. Not the kind of exhaustion that can be fixed with a nap or a weekend spent recuperating in bed.

“I… I’m not really sure why I came here,” he begins, tone soft and careful. “Everything happened pretty fast and all I could think of was the last time I was here and you told me I was welcome to come by anytime.” He looks up at you, then, like he’s waiting on confirmation. You nod. “Word travels pretty fast in circles like mine. Mostly for survival. Like, if there’s some kind of threat and we need to leave quickly, we set up ways to inform everyone as quickly as possible a long time ago. But—but things are different now. Faster. Smartphones and the internet and all that.”

“Did… did someone, y’know… see us?”

Seokjin sighs. A fractured, broken thing. “Yeah,” he croaks. “It’s not uncommon. It happens sometimes. I’m not the first one to ever do it—”

“Bite someone with an impenetrable neck?”

You smile when the corners of his lips tug upwards despite himself. “Sure, if you want to put it that way. Like I said, it’s not uncommon, but it’s… a big deal, I guess. Clans are really sensitive to the treaties put in place. Biting a human is a no-no since they established the blood banks, but biting someone, failing, and letting them go?” His words trail off, gaze locked blankly on something in the distance. “That’s unacceptable.”

You swallow, trying not to let the guilt seep in. “So, what’s that mean, then? Unacceptable?”

“It means you’re a liability.” He starts picking at his sweater again. Starts humming a song to himself that you don’t recognize but know will stick in those scarcely-used corners of your mind. A haunting kind of melody; something that pines, something that hurts. “Clans can’t risk a liability.”

“They… kicked you out?” Seokjin nods. “What does that mean?” you ask again.

Not that you know Seokjin very well, or at all, but you’re smart enough to notice patterns. You’ve noticed the way he fidgets when he’s anxious. That he’s more amenable to skinship then, too; doesn’t mind you touching him. You notice the way he blinks differently when he seems unsure of what to say or how to say it, which seems out of character for him in the first place. You’ve noticed the anguish on his face since you opened the door, so you expect more of that when he answers your question.

What you don’t expect is his clenched jaw. The crease between his eyebrows. How he seems to chew on the inside of his cheek before he steels himself and says, “It’s a death sentence.”

Because, as he informs you, a vampire is very unlikely to survive on their own. They need a clan. Need its resources and its protection. Out in the world, alone, there’s no guarantee of survival; of food and safety and camaraderie. A rogue vampire, Seokjin tells you, is a living, breathing target, and everyone knows it.

“When did they kick you out?”

Seokjin shrugs. Picks at the skin around his fingernails. “Not long after I left your place. A few hours at most. Told me as soon as I returned that they’d have to vote on it but not to get my hopes up.”

“Wow. That’s fucked.”

“That’s just how it is. Always been that way.”

You scoff. Scrunch your face up in a way that’s surely ugly but gets your point across. “So? Doesn’t mean it’s not fucked.”

He snorts a laugh and raises his eyebrows, studying you. “Are you gonna be the one to go up against centuries of vampire politics?”

“Who knows what I might do to defend your honor,” you joke. That squeaky laugh of his makes a welcomed reappearance when you throw an exaggerated wink at him.

Much to Seokjin’s relief, step one of Cohabitating With a Vampire is not going up against centuries of vampiric politics. Instead, you follow through on your promise and give him the passwords to all your streaming services.

(“There’s, like, twenty of them. I’ll never remember all this.”

“Then write it down. Didn’t I tell you part of the human experience is doing math to figure out if all this bullshit is cheaper than cable?”

“I don’t have to be human to tell you it’s definitely not.”)

Step two is getting him one of those cheap prepaid cell phone plans from the convenience store. Nothing fancy, because Seokjin has enough problems with technology, just something that allows him to make calls and text you throughout the day when he needs an outlet for all his feelings about Avatar: The Last Airbender. He finishes all three seasons in just over a day, so there are a lot of texts to send.

Things continue like that for a while. Seokjin is surprisingly easy to live with, which might not be saying much. You’d lived with a few people in university that probably skewed your views on what does and does not make a good roommate, but Seokjin is polite and respectful of your space, which is really all you can ask for. Not that he makes much of a mess, but he always cleans up after himself when he does, and he always tells you if he’s going to be out late. He has a key, so it’s just to ease your worries.

Because he doesn’t… talk. About the whole excommunication thing. Hasn’t said another word about it since he broached the topic a few weeks ago. You’re not an idiot, though. You can tell it weighs on him heavily, can tell he seems to second guess leaving your apartment each time he lingers by the door. But then he sighs, pulls his lips into a tight smile, says gotta eat sometime, and off he goes.

Hence why you’d recommended he start with bingeing cartoons.

Which, so far, has worked out well. You respond to Seokjin’s mistyped texts with the appropriate amount of interest and the occasional meme and you don’t push when his thoughts become less joke-y and more introspective. He asks your thoughts about the concept of found family, if you think people (and by people he means Prince Zuko) are capable of redemption or if sometimes someone can truly be too far gone.

Asking for a friend? you ask.

Something like that, Seokjin writes back.

Things are fine. Good, even, despite the fact that Seokjin is still very much a stranger and how abruptly you’d had to adjust to someone else being in your space. Which brings you to—

“How long would you like to stay?”

Seokjin’s head snaps up, eyes wide like you’ve just caught him doing something he shouldn’t. “Oh. I, uh—I haven’t really thought about it.”

You hum in acknowledgment and turn your attention back to the stove. Human food makes Seokjin sick, so you only cook for yourself, but he’s taken to keeping you company in the kitchen each time you make dinner. Asks you about work, about what you’re making and how you make it; asks you where things go as he tidies up behind you.

Now, he stays firmly planted on the other side of the kitchen island, using it as a barrier. “I—I can… go? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“That’s not what I said.” You turn off the burner and reach for a plate. “I would’ve asked when you’re leaving if I was trying to get rid of you.”

“Oh.”

Xander wanders in and wraps himself around your legs. “You have to give me more credit, Seokjin. I’m very assertive. My sister says it’s because I’m an Aries.” You scold Xander when he tries to jump on the counter, claws scraping on the cabinets as he scurries off. “So please believe me when I say if I wanted you out of my space I would just say that. I have no qualms about it. Fuck, he actually fucked up the cabinets, the little shit.”

“Okay. Okay, uh—I guess I’ll—”

You turn to Seokjin, face exasperated. “You literally tried to bite me and low-key murder me. What happened to that guy? You were so cocky.”

“Ugh—”

“Kind of an asshole, too, if I’m being honest. You don’t have to be all timid around me.”

Seokjin barely makes it to the stool at the counter before he’s slumping into it. “Sorry, it’s just—this is weird for me. I’ve never been… alone.”

After you finish plating your dinner, confirming for the billionth time since he moved in that Seokjin does not, in fact, want to risk the stomachache that accompanies human food, you take a seat beside him. A questioning stare asks if it’s okay if you touch him, and he nods minutely, finding the comforting weight of your hand on his bicep seconds later. “I’m not gonna pry, but just—just remember that you’re not alone, okay? I know I can’t relate, but you can talk to me about whatever you want, whenever you want. Xander, too. Sometimes he’s better because he can’t respond, he just has to sit there and take it.”

Sensing he’s being talked about, Xander meows from his spot on the floor. He still seems skeptical of Seokjin sometimes but has otherwise moved onto resigned nonchalance. “Xander’s a pretty weird name, huh?” Seokjin says, leaning down to scratch at his head. “Where’d you come up with that?”

Whatever bubble of friendship you’ve created between you and Seokjin is erased instantly as you awkwardly explain the plot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“How much do you know about human holidays?”

Seokjin barely spares you a glance. Ever since you’d mentioned Buffy, he’s made it a point to binge all seven seasons and tell you, in extreme detail, how inaccurate it is. “Hm?”

You roll your eyes, spitefully deleting the nice sheet set you’d put in your cart for him. “Human holidays. How much do you know?”

“Just the big ones, I guess. The ones bastardized from the Pagans.” You hum thoughtfully. The kind of hum that Seokjin knows means you want something, because it’s one he’s heard a million times already. But the lure of Buffy is strong, especially the musical episode, and he’s still unable to tear his eyes away from the screen when he follows up with, “Why do you ask?”

“Tomorrow’s a holiday. Just wondering if you’d want to celebrate.”

“Depends what it is.”

Suddenly shy, you balk at answering. “Forget it,” you say, re-adding the sheets to your cart along with an overpriced memory foam pillow. Just because Seokjin doesn’t sleep much doesn’t mean he shouldn’t do it in luxury when he does. “It’s silly.”

Catching the hesitation in your tone, Seokjin turns to you with an eyebrow quirked. “Tell me.”

You nearly groan at the way your cheeks warm. “No.”

“Since when are you shy?” he teases, one corner of his mouth catching on a smile. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not shy,” you argue, despite all momentary evidence to the contrary. “I’ve just decided I don’t want to celebrate a holiday with someone who can’t stop watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer for two seconds to pay attention to me.”

“Ah,” Jin says with a snort of laughter. “You’re not shy and embarrassed, you’re jealous and needy.”

You delete the sheets and pillow again.

When you get into work the next day, there’s a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on your desk and a small box of chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Guess I know a thing or two.

-SJ

You buy the goddamn sheets, paying extra for same-day delivery.

Having a roommate is strange.

You’ve grown used to having Seokjin in your space. You’ve made room for him, made a room for him, and have finally ironed out all those awkward kinks that come with living with a stranger.

So it feels weird when he’s not around. Wrong, almost.

Which is stupid, you tell yourself. He’s allowed to go out. Now that he’s mostly shaken the nerves from his exile, he’s been doing that more frequently. He’d told you a few weeks ago that he can finally go out and not spend the entire time looking over his shoulder, which is great for him, but you spend every second he’s gone worrying about him.

And now it’s spring, so all you can do is lay in your bed with the windows cracked and wonder if every police siren you hear is because something awful has happened to him. Which is also stupid, because the man has superpowers, for fuck’s sake. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, can do far better of a job than you could ever hope to, so there’s no sense in worrying.

Still.

Your mind is working overtime to convince you of all these horrible things, like Seokjin’s gone to a club and was spotted by someone in his old clan and now there’s no more Seokjin. Just—poof!

At times (like now) you feel like an overbearing helicopter parent, always two seconds away from sending a text demanding to know where he is and who he’s with. Let me know you’re safe in the next thirty seconds OR ELSE. You think that has a nice ring to it. Doesn’t matter that Seokjin’s at least ten times your age, OR ELSE has never been an empty threat from you.

Your thumb hovers above the send button as you hear the lock turn in the front door. You’re up and halfway down the hall in an embarrassingly short amount of time—just enough to watch Seokjin stumble inside and nearly brain himself on the console table.

This is weird and not correct. Seokjin doesn’t stumble. He’s infuriatingly composed at all times, especially when he’s dressed to go out and leaves a bit of forehead showing. Then he’s really composed. Carries himself with an unshakeable arrogance that has you wondering how one’s forehead can wield so much power.

“Jin?” you call out, both to make sure the man in front of you is actually him and, if it is, to give him a heads up and not scare him to death. (Because, as you’ve also learned, Seokjin startles very easily. It’s both endearing and a source of great distress for him.)

Seokjin looks up, catches your eye at the same time he catches himself on the wall. You think he’s trying to take off his shoes. “Oh hey!” he sing-songs, and your stomach drops straight to the floor.

He’s drunk.

Wasted, even.

Which shouldn’t be possible, according to him. Something about his inhuman metabolism that prevents it. “Are you—Kim Seokjin, are you drunk?”

“No,” Seokjin insists, “that’s impossible. I—I can’t be that.”

You eye him warily. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.” Grabbing him gently, you maneuver him to the couch. “Sit. I’m gonna get you some water.”

Five minutes later, he’s properly hydrated and slumped against the arm of the sofa, moaning about how he can’t see and his stomach feels weird. “That’s because you’re drunk,” you reiterate, to which Seokjin replies, eyes narrowed even though he can’t lift his head to properly glare at you, “No, I’m not.”

You click your tongue. “Where’d you go tonight, then?”

“The blood bank.”

“Which one?” you ask, because you may not know all the ins and outs of vampire bylaws and treatises, but you know all blood banks aren’t created equal. Seokjin had explained the hierarchy once. There are the bougie, all organic, free range blood banks not unlike the bougie, all organic, overpriced head of cabbage supermarkets in your world; then there are the dirt cheap blood banks, the ones that capitalize on desperation and skirt the law a bit too much to be harmless.

Judging from the look on Seokjin’s face, he hadn’t gone to the bougie one.

“Jin,” you say, trying to curb the reprimand in your tone. “You know that place isn’t safe.”

He slumps backwards again, dazedly staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “I know that.” He fists his hands in the fabric of his coat. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“Okay,” you say, because it’s not like you can say I know or I understand, because you don’t. Seokjin’s world is so far removed from your own, enmeshed only by force and a lack of other options. “I just… I worry about you, you know? I just want you to be safe, and that place isn’t safe.”

Seokjin scoffs. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You level him with a stare even though his eyes aren’t open to see it. “I’m not talking about physically, you idiot. I mean, I do worry about you physically, but I worry more about you mentally and emotionally. You went through an incredibly traumatizing thing and you don’t talk about it.”

“Did you learn that in therapy?” he deadpans.

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “I did, as a matter of fact, and you can tell it’s working by the way I’m not the emotionally constipated one between us.”

“I’m not constipated.”

You sigh. “Okay, Jinnie. Just… promise me one thing, okay?” He grunts. “Don’t go back to that blood bank. They clearly took a donation from someone they shouldn’t have and now you’re all fucked up.”

“I’m fine,” he argues, just for the sake of arguing.

“You’re really not.”

“Yes I am, and I don’t have any money for the nicer blood banks. I’m all out.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers and squeeze. “Okay. Just tell me next time you need to go and we can figure it out.”

That seems to grab his attention. He snaps his eyes open and looks over at you, taking far too long to look focused. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Jin—”

“No, don’t Jin me. You’re already letting me stay here for free. Did you know that not having a safe place to live is the number one cause of death for rogue vampires? Because it is, and you’ve already spared me from certain death, so I’m not going to ask you for money on top of it just so I can go back to drinking my fancy aged blood.”

“Is there really nothing in between aged, organic B-positive and took a sketchy donation from someone rolling on E?”

“That’s a common misconception. The different blood types don’t really taste all that different.”

You groan. “Not the point. The point—”

“Don’t go to the bad place anymore,” Seokjin mumbles, sounding all too much like a scolded child.

“Correct.”

“Still doesn’t solve my money issue.”

A slow, smug grin overtakes your face. “Give me two days and I’ll have it solved.”

You truly are a genius, even if Seokjin won’t admit it.

See, you had the advantage of not being over two-hundred years old. You’re young and aware of trends, and that came in handy when you had a centuries-old vampire looking for employment in the modern age. Ridesharing had been out of the question, not because Seokjin had cracked that horrible joke eons ago and didn’t want to go back on it, but because he'd forgotten to renew his license. Getting an overnight job—either stocking shelves at the supermarket or working at the convenience store or whatever—had been out of the question, too, due to Seokjin not wanting his beautiful face to go to waste.

“Become a Twitch streamer, then,” you’d said.

Which had been a mistake, because instead of outright refusing and moving on, Seokjin had suckered you into explaining what Twitch was for thirty minutes. Add another thirty minutes of explaining what a streamer was and it’d nearly taken up your entire evening.

“I’ve never played a video game in my entire life,” Seokjin had said, but he hadn’t looked dissuaded.

You’d shrugged. “Some people are into that. It makes for a good shtick.”

Seokjin had paused, then; stared into the distance as if it could tell him all the secrets of the universe. “Do you really think people would watch me be bad at playing video games?”

“Trust me,” you’d replied, taking his face between your hands and squishing his cheeks a little, “humans not only watch way worse things, they pay for them, too.”

And now you’re here, a month and a half later.

You’d stolen (more like permanently borrowed without prior consent, because stolen is such a loaded word) some spare equipment from work. Got Seokjin set up in a corner of his now-bedroom. Ordered those LED light strips all the other streamers have and told him to milk his horrible sense of humor for all it was worth, and boom, his channel had blown up far quicker than you or he had anticipated.

Now he has a steady viewership and a reliable income and his own Discord server. Sure, the start had been a bit rough. Seokjin really had never played video games before, so trying to find something good for streaming was difficult. He didn’t have the coordination for MapleStory, Stardew Valley was too boring, he lost ten subscribers when he tried streaming Pokémon. You’d casually suggested he start streaming horror games. He was endearingly inept and easily startled—seemed like a no-brainer.

Once again, you were right.

So here he is, hogging the small bathroom as he applies his moisturizer, shooing you away each time you ask to take a shower because he has to look good on camera. Which is ridiculous, you think, because he’s actually incapable of looking bad.

“That’s ridiculous,” you huff. “You’re literally incapable of looking bad.”

Seokjin smiles all smug and pleased. “I know. But I’ll be done in a minute. My stream starts soon, anyway.”

With another huff, you stomp down the hall to melt into the couch until he’s done. There’s an episode of Bake-Off paused on the television that you resume, snorting at Seokjin’s squawking protests.

You hear the bathroom lights flick off, Seokjin’s footsteps on the wood floors, Xander tangling himself in his legs and sending him staggering into the wall. “Yah! Watch it, you horrible cretin!”

“Xander did nothing wrong,” you retort. “He’s innocent.”

Seokjin just rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. “You’d let that cat get away with murder.”

“If it was yours? Absolutely.”

Later on, after you’ve showered and are tucked into bed, a warmth spreads through your chest as you hear Seokjin say to his stream, nothing but affection in his voice, “Can you believe my best friend’s cat tried to murder me today?”

Then there’s a strangled yell as he promptly gets killed in-game.

Hearing Seokjin call you his best friend has damn near catapulted you into a full-blown crisis.

His words have been playing on a loop all week. The warmth never dulls, never lets up; the words best friend always lodge themselves in some hard to reach space in your heart. Because they mean something. Because Seokjin’s not the type to say something just to say it. Because you always try to do right by him and for a long time you’ve wondered if you’re doing enough, if sometimes you try to do the right thing but make things worse and Seokjin’s too nice to say so.

Worse—you’ve been a little terrified that he only sticks around because he feels obligated. Like he has to pay back some invisible, unspoken debt.

It’s not like that. Maybe it’s cliche to say he’s more important than whatever it costs to house him here, but it’s true. Simply being able to lay in bed, cool breeze streaming in from a cracked window, and hear Seokjin’s squeaky laughter and muffled voice as he talks to his stream—it’s priceless. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So, yeah—Seokjin calling you his best friend strikes you someplace deep.

You’re not sure what time it is when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Seokjin takes up almost all of the frame. Sometimes he has to duck when his hair is done and coiffed, and maybe it’s silly but it makes you feel safe.

“Hi,” you say, leaning over to flick on the lamp. At once the room is bathed in amber, shadows long and prominent in all the darkest parts, and it’s not until Seokjin’s silence registers that you look over at him.

He’s crying.

Two things happen before you even have a chance to breathe: you get tangled in the duvet and eat shit trying to scramble out of bed, and your hands are pressed to Seokjin’s cheeks, thumbing away the tears beneath his eyes. He heaves a sob and pulls you closer. Wraps those gangly arms around your shoulders and cries quietly into your neck.

It all makes you feel a bit hopeless, but you know Seokjin feels safe. You know you’re a safe place for him.

So you let him cry. Don’t ask what’s wrong, because you already know, have been waiting for it to hit out of the blue and all at once. There are only so many distractions. Even fewer that can bear the weight of a trauma like Seokjin’s.

Eventually the sobs turn to hiccups and quiet sniffles. His tone is watery as he apologizes for ruining your sleep shirt. You tell him it’s okay, and this time you don’t ask if you can press a kiss to his forehead, you just guide his head down so you can reach. His body sags in response.

“Do you wanna sleep in here?” you ask. There’s a large part of you that wants him to say yes, and a small one that refuses to consider what that means.

Seokjin says yes, regardless.

You tuck him into the empty side of the bed. Grab a glass of water from the kitchen and some aspirin, even if it won’t do anything, because Seokjin did a lot of crying and you know how that feels. He’s still awake when you return, just staring at the ceiling, so you sit on the edge of the bed next to him and just run your fingers through his hair. It’s blond now, and it suits him.

“Do you,” he starts to say, but his throat is dry and wrecked, voice hoarse.

“Sit up,” you instruct. Bring the glass to his lips. “Drink this.”

He clicks his tongue. “Bossy,” he jokes, but does as you say anyway. “Do you remember the night we met? I told you I was the third-youngest in my clan. We’d taken in two new guys.” You nod. Seokjin swallows hard. “They… they found my stream. Reached out.”

Your hand pauses in his hair. “Oh. What did they say?”

“They apologized.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “They—they said they’re the reason I got kicked out. That they’d fucked up the person at the club—“

“Me,” you conclude.

Seokjin nods. “Yeah, you. It was supposed to be someone else. We—it’s not, uh. Uncommon.”

It takes a second for the dots to connect. Then they do, and you choke on a laugh. “Like. As a kink?”

“Yeah. People pay a lot of money for it, and it’s not, like, illegal to bite someone consensually, so long as there’s proper documentation. And I’m really, really handsome, right, so people would pay a lot more money to get bitten by me, specifically.”

You snort. “So someone at the club that night had paid a lot of money to be bitten by you, the world’s most handsome vampire, and the two new guys in your clan… what, mistook me for someone else?”

“Apparently.”

“Then you tried to bite me, I was not biteable, and then you got kicked out of your clan?”

“That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”

You hum. “What happened to the woman who paid?”

“Taehyung bit her instead. He’s nowhere near as handsome as me, but he’s fine in a pinch.”

“Is he—“

“One of the new guys? Yeah. Jungkook is the other one. He’s the one who found me on Twitch.”

“I see.” You find his hand and press another kiss to the back of it. Interlock your fingers. “Are you okay?”

He sighs. Goes very quiet and very still before saying, in a voice so meek and unlike him, “They asked me to come back. Said they could probably pull some strings and get the clan to take me back.”

The thought of Seokjin leaving nearly steals the breath from your lungs. Has your stomach twisting in knots, limbs jittery with anxiety, and it’s all you can do to choke out a tiny little oh.

You’ve grown so used to having him in your space, in your life. The thought of no longer hearing his ridiculous laugh from across the hall, still audible even with your noise-canceling headphones on? The thought of cooking dinner alone again. The thought of no longer coming home from work to find Seokjin napping on the couch, Xander curled up on his chest. It’s all unfathomable. Has your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and you know Seokjin can hear it, know you’ll probably have to examine all these feelings soon, but—

“I said no.”

“What?”

“I said no,” he repeats. “I… I told them I’m happy here. That I’ve learned how to adjust and that I’m doing well.”

“Seokjin,” you say, voice hardened around the edges because it’s easier to pretend to be mad at him than it is to cry in relief. “Seokjin, why would you do that? They can give you so much more—“

“No,” he says, tone so firm and sure there’s no room to dispute it, “they can’t.”

Why can’t they? you want to ask. What can I possibly give you? But that’s… dumb. They’re questions you already know the answer to, especially when Seokjin’s looking at you like this: like you’re the only thing in his entire universe that matters. Like he’d trust you to lead him into war; trust you to keep him safe.

That’s what all of this is truly about, isn’t it? Trust.

Seokjin trusts you. Seokjin has allowed something solid and impenetrable to be formed between you, has helped create it. Now it’s time to trust him in turn—trust that he’s happy, safe, wants to stay here.

(Stay with you.)

So you don’t push it again. Don’t give voice to all your insecurities. You’d told Seokjin once that if you wanted him gone you’d ask him to leave. It’s the same for him.

“Do you want to see them?”

Seokjin hums. “I—maybe? It would be nice to see a familiar face, I guess.”

You can’t believe you’re about to ask this, but: “Would you… want to invite them over for dinner?” Seokjin gags. “Oh, shit, right—no dinner. Um. Would you like to invite them over to meet Xander and play video games and not eat human food?” you try again.

“Jungkookie eats human food. He’s a vile little creature.”

“Okay. What about Taehyung?”

“He’s like me.”

“Okay. Invite them.”

Seokjin sits up a little. Scrunches his eyebrows together as he stares up at you. “Are you sure?”

“Are they gonna try to eat me?”

“Doesn’t matter if they do,” Seokjin dismisses, “your neck is infamous now.”

Your jaw drops. “What does that mean.”

“It means you’re a bona fide local celebrity, darling. The only person in this city immune to a friendly chomp. After my unfortunate excommunication, you were the talk of the vampire world for weeks. The two chaos demons will probably ask for your autograph.”

Eyes narrow, you study Seokjin’s face. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“I would never.”

“That’s a lie.”

Seokjin just grins.

By the time you finally meet Taehyung and Jungkook, Seokjin’s bedroom isn’t used for much more than streaming.

It happened gradually. A knock on your door frame once he was done with his stream, just to ask if you were awake. Sometimes you weren’t. Sometimes you were, and he’d make you a cup of tea and sit in the empty space on your bed and tell you all about the game he’d played and his viewers and all their funny comments and how many new subscribers he got. That turned into him crashing there, because Seokjin loved to talk and talked endlessly, and sometimes you’d look at the clock and it’d be nearing two a.m. and you’d have to hush him and tell him to go to sleep.

The mornings following would always be hell, but you’d always plop down at your work desk with a goofy smile on your face.

Sleeping alone had started feeling weird after that. It’d been one hell of an adjustment period, getting used to someone else in your bed, but Seokjin’s presence was calming—his weight at your back, far more hesitant to reach out and touch than you are, but sometimes you’d wake up to his fingers in your hair, gently detangling.

Then it was making room for socks and underwear next to yours. His products next to yours in your shower instead of the guest bathroom. His nice shirts hung up next to yours in the closet. His phone charger on the nightstand, plugged into the outlet behind the bed. Now it’s making both sides of the bed in the morning instead of just yours. It’s making sure your alarm is quiet so Seokjin’s able to sleep through it, even with his ridiculous hearing. It’s—

“Oh, what the fuck,” Taehyung says, jaw comically slack. “No wonder hyung doesn’t wanna leave—Jungkook-ah, come look at this! They’re practically fucking married.”

Jungkook seems to materialize beside him, his wide eyes growing even wider as he stifles a laugh. “This is peak marital bedroom.”

Seokjin’s next to you in the hallway, unable to sputter a response. If he could blush, you’re sure it’d go all the way to his toes. “Yah! We’re not—what do you two even know—c’mon, that’s-that’s not even—absurd.”

“It’s not even absurd?” Taehyung and Jungkook think this is riotously funny. “Well,” Taehyung concludes, turning to you, “at least hyung chose well. Imagine if he tried to bite someone who lived in a shithole. Totally wouldn’t have been worth the excommunication.”

Exasperated, Seokjin looks to you for guidance. You just shrug. “He has a point.”

Seokjin’s sputtering again, deflating in the face of betrayal. He throws his hands in the air and dramatically announces, “Aish! Tour’s over, you insolent brats!”

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Jungkook says, making his way down the hall, “we’ll do the self-guided one.”

“Good thing we didn’t pay for this,” Taehyung tacks on. “Two out of ten stars,” he continues, voice growing distant the further they go into Seokjin’s bedroom. “Great location, but the tour guide was a giant pissbaby. Totally unreceptive to comments about his marriage.” You think the last bit comes from the closet.

With a heavy sigh, Seokjin trails after them. Probably to make sure they don’t touch his streaming stuff, considering you’d permanently borrowed it without prior consent. Your boss still hasn’t noticed, so that’s a win, but it’s pretty nice. Not the kind of low-quality garbage you’d be able to afford replacing out of pocket if it all took an unfortunate tumble to the floor.

There’s some muffled yelling—probably also from the closet—before Jungkook pops into the hallway, scratching the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “Hyung sent me out here to help you cook.” He gnaws at his bottom lip. “I-I don’t, uh—cook often? I don’t cook often. So I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.” He looks down. “If that’s okay?”

God help you, you’re now endeared by two vampires. What an embarrassing lack of survival instinct. “Of course it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow. “Does anyone in your clan cook?”

You hand over an apron. By the way Jungkook stares at it, you conclude the answer to your question is very obviously no. “Never mind,” you say. “Jin says you eat human food? Do you enjoy it?”

Jungkook nods, hair flopping wildly. “Yeah! I eat everything.” Instant horror. “I mean—! Not everything-everything—I don’t eat people! Or a-animals! Wait, I do eat animals, but not live ones! Not, like, housepets. Just the meat and stuff from the store—I’m not gonna eat your cat!”

Xander just blinks up at him. There’s that embarrassing lack of survival instinct again.

You laugh. Squeeze his shoulder. “Jungkook, relax, it’s okay. I didn’t think that at all.”

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t look convinced. He just looks sad, like he’s on the verge of tears. “I just—I feel bad for hyung. I’m trying to make a good impression so you’ll like us and invite us over again and we’ll get to see him all the time.” Then, in a small voice, he adds, “Like before.”

You wonder if he can hear the way your heart plummets to the ground. “Oh, you sweet thing.” Unlike Seokjin, you don’t ask Jungkook if you can hug him. You just do it, because he starts sniffling before you can even finish your sentence. “You and Taehyung are always welcome here, okay?” Jungkook nods into the crook of your neck. “As long as you don’t, like, break anything. Seokjin isn’t bringing in that much money yet.”

This gets a laugh out of him. A sweet sound; airy and carefree, even though he’s carrying so much guilt. “Hyung seems really happy here.”

An unbidden smile. “I hope he is.”

“Are you happy he’s here, too?”

Jungkook’s clearly looking for something in your expression when he pulls back. He’s already heard the way your heart rate spiked at his question, so you’re not sure what it is, but it’s easy to say, “Yes, I am,” because it’s the truth.

“Okay. That helps, I think.”

“Good. Now, what are your thoughts on carbonara?”

  Jungkook is a good sous chef.

He’s a quick learner, efficient at chopping things, and doesn’t mind doing the dishes because he “wants the experience.” After cooking alongside Seokjin for so long, it was second nature to hand out little jobs to do. Easy to make light conversation. Even though he’s a century older than you, Jungkook seems so young. Hasn’t lost that sense of childlike wonder. Still has all those stars in his eyes.

So you hand over a pair of gloves and let him do the dishes. You’re halfway down the hall when the sound of the faucet fades and gives way to hushed conversation.

“—it’s alright, Taehyung-ah, I’m not scolding you, it’s just—it’s touchy, okay? Even if that’s something she’d want, you know it’s different for us. You know the laws.”

“I know, hyung. I’m sorry. It was a stupid joke and I just got carried away.”

You should say something, you think. They probably know you’re here, just skulking in the dark, eavesdropping, their superhuman senses be damned.

Christ, you probably smell like pancetta.

“…Do you, though?”

Seokjin sighs. You’d know that sigh anywhere, considering how many times you’d heard it during his Buffy binge. “Yeah. I think I do, Taehyung-ah.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“How do you imagine that playing out? We haven’t even had The Talk yet.”

Someone gasps. “Oh, shit. You haven’t? Really? That’s a pretty important conversation to just skip over.”

“Yah, don’t give me that look! It’s complicated!”

“Okay, hyung, I’m sure it is. I just want you to be happy, you know? And, like, you’re clearly happy here, but maybe you could be even happier. I know there’s laws and rites and customs, but who gives a shit?”

Seokjin lets out a strangled yelp. “Yah! Are you actually trying to get me killed? First you get me excommunicated, now you want me to say ‘fuck ten millennia of vampiric customs’ for—“

“Don’t say ‘bullshit,’ hyung, because it’s not. Not if that’s what you want. Not if it’d make you happy.”

Another sigh. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

That night is the first time it’s awkward sleeping next to Seokjin.

Suddenly the drawer with the socks and underwear seems too big. The clothes aren’t hanging right in the closet. Seokjin’s phone keeps vibrating and skittering along the nightstand and the sound is grating. The breeze from the open window doesn’t feel nice, just makes your skin tacky from the humidity.

Or maybe it’s Seokjin that’s throwing everything off. Has barely said a full sentence since saying goodbye to the kids. Excused himself immediately to take a shower and stayed in there forever; that’s what it’d felt like, at least.

The long and short of it is this: you’d overheard a conversation you shouldn’t have. You know things Seokjin probably isn’t ready to say. Not to you, not right now. If you combine your two brain cells, the logical conclusion is that Seokjin quite possibly has very real feelings for you and might be in the midst of a crisis, and that’s a problem because—

The Talk.

Something you’ve managed to push to the back of your mind, even though your twenty-eighth birthday is coming up. You’ll age, grow older. Seokjin grows older, too, but not like you. No guarantees, but no expiration date, either. And that’s—tough. Really fucking scary to think about: you, with the lines in your skin showing your age, so many decades in the future; Seokjin, still looking the same.

How is that supposed to work?

Seokjin will stay by your side and watch you grow old until eventually there’s no more growing to do. He will stay by your side and maybe hold your hand as you depart this life and maybe set off for another. One where you won’t know him and his squeaky laugh and his warm comfort; one where he’s left behind.

It can’t be worth it. Despite what Taehyung had said, nothing can be worth that kind of grief. Because Seokjin is so good—he’s kind and fierce; wildly chaotic and unwaveringly stable. He deserves to be loved endlessly and eternally, and how will you ever be able to do that if you’ll always have time breathing down your neck?

“I can hear you thinking.”

You sigh. Squeeze your eyes shut because you can feel them start to water. There’s guilt and there’s injustice and there’s anger, because you want to be the person he chooses to be loved by. “I…” You take a deep breath. Hold it a few seconds. Compose yourself. “I overheard you talking to Taehyung.”

Seokjin swallows. “I figured.”

“I—I don’t know what any of it means,” you say, “but I think… I think maybe there are some things we should talk about.”

“Right, okay. The Talk.” He sounds resigned. “I’ve never had to have The Talk before. I probably won’t be very good at it.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself when you say, “How hard could it possibly be?”

Very, it turns out.

The two of you talk in circles until you’re nearly crying in frustration, because Seokjin just doesn’t hear you. Refuses to accept that loving you and eventually having to say goodbye is worse than the alternative. Refuses to accept that you’ll grow old and get wrinkles and look your age and he’ll always look beautiful, look like this, and how that might be okay now, when you’re still young, but what will it look like when you’re seventy and he still looks twenty-five? How will he still be able to look at you and see you as someone beautiful, desirable? What will the rest of the world see when they look at the two of you like that?

“You’re not listening to me,” you sob. Everything feels so overwhelming. So out of reach. “Seokjin, how could you—why would you ever want me? Why would you want something so impossible?”

Seokjin scoffs, wounded. “Impossible to who? To you? Because it’s not impossible to me.” Anger sounds so wrong on him. Makes your stomach twist. “In all that thinking you’ve done, did you stop to consider the alternative? That I keep going through this world alone, scared to get too close to anyone because I’ll always have to watch them die?”

“What does that mean?” You’re nearly shouting. Anger doesn’t sound good on you, either. Not when it’s directed at him. “Why would you be alone? You could be with someone like you.”

“Someone like me, huh? Who’s that? A freak? Some other cursed bastard who doesn’t want to be like this but can barely survive on their own?” He’s sobbing now, too, voice hoarse as he fists the duvet just to have something to hold onto. An anchor. “Who am I besides a fucking monster?”

You’re on him immediately, moving frantically to gather him in your arms. Seokjin only stops sobbing to dry-heave; only moves to give you enough space to thumb away the tears on his cheeks. He cries until he’s got nothing left besides tremors. He cries until you’re rocking him in your lap, your heart broken for this beautiful, kind man. He cries until his lips give way to apologies instead.

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for.” You kiss his hair. It smells like blackberries. “You are so many things, Kim Seokjin, and not one of them is bad.”

He hiccups. “I just want to be normal.”

“You are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“How can you say that?” he whispers. “I’m broken.”

You hum. Run your fingers softly up and down his arms, leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

“If it’s not ‘someone incredibly handsome’ I don’t want to hear it. My heart won’t be able to take that kind of pain right now, I’m too vulnerable.”

“Someone incredibly handsome was actually first on my list, so you’re in luck.” Seokjin snorts. “But I also see the strongest person I’ve ever met. Someone determined and stubborn. Someone who could’ve killed me to stay out of trouble but let me go, because it was the right thing to do. Someone who has experienced hardships I could never imagine but still remains soft and compassionate. Someone who has reached into my chest and grown roots there, because now that I’ve had you here, I don’t think I could ever possibly think about letting you go.”

You sigh. Feel your throat grow tight all over again. “And that’s—that’s what scares me, because how can I ask you to stay when we both know how it ends? It’ll be the rest of my life, but what will it be for you? Will it feel like a minute, an hour, a year? That’s what I meant, when I said someone like you—someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

When he looks at you, Seokjin’s gaze is impossibly soft. He looks at you like you’re a little stupid, too, which he does a lot. “I already am someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

He finds your hand, rubs his thumb over individual knuckles. “There are… ways. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, because we can always try and find it doesn’t work, just like anyone else would, so I don’t think I’m ready to have that specific conversation yet, but I just want you to know that. That there are options.”

Something dangerously close to hope blooms in your chest.

It’s easy, once you’re over that hurdle.

Once that particular elephant in the room has been addressed and shelved.

You’re not naive enough to think there aren’t many difficult discussions in your future, but you find it hard to care when Seokjin doesn’t shy away from you, can barely tear himself away from your side even for a second. He’s there to kiss you awake in the morning when you’re on the verge of running late for work. He’s there when you walk through the door after a hard day, another kiss pressed to your forehead. He’s there next to you in bed as soon as he finishes a stream, skin soft from the shower, and that feeling of security he brings with him warms you even when he can’t.

Seokjin insists on doing things properly. Like a real couple, he just barely stops himself from saying, and you don’t mention it and he doesn’t, either, but you’re proud of him for catching it, for stomping down that line of thinking. Because the two of you are a real couple. You do the cliche dinner-and-a-movie dates, even though Seokjin spends the entire time making fun of the characters. You go for walks along the river. Sometimes all he wants to do is spend hours walking around the city. Even though the sunlight gives him a headache, you still hold his hand and walk for as long as he wants to.

It’s easy.

Also easy is how he touches you, the feel of his lips on your skin. Fluid, like all the time he spent before knowing you was just practice. Fragile, the way he holds you like a delicate thing; like the entire world is in his hands, and he doesn’t have to be careful but it’s worth it to be so.

So much changes between the two of you, but there’s even more that doesn’t. Seokjin is still Seokjin. Still laughs too loud and carries around the weight of the world, but at night you can still hear him talk to his stream, tell them all about you. You can hear the way he shrieks with glee when he finally tells them you’re his girlfriend, that it’s official even though that word feels juvenile, and you smile to yourself in the dark.

It’s so, so easy to fall in love with him when you were already halfway there.

Much like he always is, Seokjin is honest first. Just presses himself to your back one night as you’re cooking dinner and whispers in your ear that he loves you. In your shock, the pan nearly goes clattering to the floor. Xander hisses, does the Scooby-Doo run out of the kitchen to escape the chaos, and Seokjin just laughs.

You’re scowling when you tell him you love him, too. He kisses it away.

“What’s this thing?”

You sigh, drop the bundle of hangers in your hand. Cleaning out your closet had sounded like a great and logical idea in theory. Seokjin was quickly outgrowing his allotted side, you hadn’t touched the back of it since you’d moved in so god only knew what was growing back there, and there wasn’t much else to do on a stormy Sunday afternoon.

The closet, however, had very quickly gotten the best of you.

Now you’re knee-deep in clothes you haven’t worn in years, hairline and and armpits sweaty, and so close to snapping that the line between you and a murder charge is paper thin. And poor Seokjin—he’s just trying to help, but he’s more curious than he is genuinely helpful. Keeps stopping every two minutes to inspect something and ask what it is, figure out how it works. First was the fart machine you’d gotten as a gag gift six Christmases ago. (Seokjin loved this, said he’d send it to Taehyung and Jungkook.) Then it was the box of butterfly hair clips your mother had saved and dumped on you as soon as you’d gotten your own place. (He loved them, too; claimed ownership of them and said he’d wear them during one of his streams.)

You look over to see what he’s holding this time and barely have enough time to grit out the words DO NOT PRESS THAT BUTTON before Seokjin presses the button and you’re temporarily blinded by a flash.

“Oh shit,” comes his brilliant response. Then, “What the fuck. Did it just spit something out at me?”

You try to blink the stars away. “It’s a Polaroid camera.”

“What’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” you answer tartly. Then you sigh, because it isn’t Seokjin’s fault that he is who he is and you feel guilty. “It’s basically an instant camera. The film is self-developing so you can take and print a picture just about immediately.”

Seokjin makes a little humming noise. “Where’d you get it?”

“My sister gave it to me.”

“An invention like this and she just gave it away?”

You snort. Walk over and gently take the camera from his hands. “Yeah, older siblings tend to do that,” you answer. Point the view finder at him until he’s centered in the frame. “They love to offload all their worthless junk onto you in the name of being charitable. Smile.”

Unfair, really, how effortlessly beautiful he is. It’s all you can do to look away from the picture once it’s developed, and Seokjin’s smiling in it, sure, but it pales in comparison to the smile that sits on his face once the photo of you becomes clear.

  Seokjin becomes obsessed with the camera.

Manages to use up all the old film without even leaving the apartment. He takes photos of you, of himself, of you and him together, of Xander, the plant in the kitchen that probably doesn’t get watered enough, his computer screen once he hits a subscriber milestone, the view of the city from the living room windows during another storm. He leaves them around the apartment for you to find—a little game of hide and seek that only the two of you are in on.

And they don’t sell that old film anymore, so he uses his own money to buy a new Instax. Then he finds an old camera shop way off the beaten path and spends even more money there, but while he’s out he loads up on film and spends hours taking pictures in the city. Comes home and dumps them out of his pockets like he’d looted a bank, and you try to keep a straight face, you really do, but he’s so goddamn endearing that you can’t help the fond smile. They’re all dated and labeled, little messages drawn in limited space.

This tiny dog took a massive shit at the park and the owner didn’t even clean it up!

Doesn’t this cloud look like that ugly green guy from that movie you made me watch? Shark

Pretty flower! Reminded me of you ♡

This cat hissed at me! Reminded me of Xander ♡

Maybe we can go to this cafe this weekend if the weather’s nice?

Then, one from a trip he must’ve taken to the beach, because there isn’t enough contrast to see the waves, but written clearly in the sand—

I LOVE YOU!!! Sand is itchy!

That one’s your favorite.

  Thing about Seokjin is—nothing stays innocent for very long.

He’s simultaneously adorably naive and the smartest person in any room he walks into. There’s this little act he does: says something blissfully ignorant, almost too ignorant to be true, and waits to see how long it takes you to realize he’s fucking with you. He loves it; it’s his favorite game. Always ends up with him laughing so hard he cries, that squawking laugh of his booming loud, and you know better but fall for it every time like a sucker.

So, really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when he hands over a stack of Instax photos, does that mischievous little smile he does where he rolls his lips to keep from laughing. Just for a moment, all you look at is a set of wide shoulders disappearing through the door of his streaming room, then the shut door. Then, when you look down—

“Kim Seokjin!”

His maniacal laughter rings throughout the apartment.

Because Seokjin has just handed you a stack of dick pictures, and this is not an idea Seokjin would’ve had on his own. Taehyung or Jungkook or both are probably behind this, you think. Taehyung had stopped by not long ago, took one look at the Instax, and wiggled his eyebrows at you, so you should’ve known. Should’ve known that a trio of vampires that took money from people to bite them would be the types to take unsolicited pictures of their dicks.

(“I don’t do that!” Jungkook insists later on, cheeks flaming red.

Taehyung snorts. “You did that one time.”

“I did not—”

“You did,” Taehyung insists. “Remember? It was that one college girl who lied and totally suckered you by saying she was an anthropology major and was comparing dick sizes between humans and vampires and needed a picture of your dick for science.”

“That’s different,” Jungkook argues. “It’s not weird if it’s for science.”

Taehyung hums, seemingly buying into this argument. Then he takes another bite of the pop-tart he’d insisted on trying before he makes a face and spits it onto the table.)

As it turns out, handing your roommate-turned-immortal life partner a stack of dick Polaroids prompts a lot of discussions about sex.

You’re not an idiot. Of course you’d searched how vampires get erections without a blood supply, but the results had been less than helpful. They just do, is as much as you got. Imagine your surprise, then, when the dick in Seokjin’s pictures was very erect and very ready to go.

“How does this work?” you ask him.

Seokjin looks startled. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“This,” you say, pointing to the picture. God, you hate that it’s a good one. You’re not supposed to appreciate unsolicited dick pictures. “The dick.”

“Um. I—you see, when two people love each other very much—”

You squawk. “Not sex! I know how sex works!”

“Well how am I supposed to know that?” he squawks back, matching your volume with very little effort. “You just pointed at my dick and asked how it worked!”

Eyes narrowing, you retort, “I know how dicks work too, thank you very much, I mean how does yours work?”

“...The same as everyone else’s? Babe, I really don’t get what you’re asking me here.”

You huff. Shake your head a little to try and clear the brain fog. “What I mean is: most people with dicks are able to get erections because the blood goes down there. You don’t have blood, so where does the boner come from?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, shrugs his shoulders and looks at you like you’re kind of crazy. “It just happens. Appears like a mirage in the desert. Usually after I think about sex or boobs—”

You roll your eyes, falling back onto your bed with a huff. Seokjin’s on you in a second. Stares down at you with some dopey, loved-up look on his face, all traces of exasperation gone. The weight is a familiar comfort by now, an anchor, and no matter what, every single time: “Hey,” Seokjin whispers, mouth so close to your skin you can feel the words, “guess what?” You hum an acknowledgement, dip your hands beneath another oversized t-shirt to trace along his own skin, warmed only by your own.

You know what he’s going to say, but—“What?”—you play along anyway.

“I love you.”

“I know,” you tease. Seokjin huffs, something else you feel in the hollow of your neck, before he presses another kiss to your skin.

“Are you gonna say it back?”

You will, because you always do. Just one of those things that had been instinctual the first time: a brief realization, oh, I love him too, and then the words had come spilling out. No hesitation and no second-guessing, just a whispered truth and twin smiles once you got past the anger of your dinner almost tumbling to the floor. “I might.”

A groan, then all of Seokjin’s body weight collapses on top of you. “You’re insufferable,” he laments, a playful whine high in his throat, “it’s kind of killing my boner.”

“Wow. And they say romance is dead.”

“Well, technically I’m dead, too, so that makes sense.”

Seokjin can’t see you roll your eyes, but you do. Are you stalling? Undoubtedly. Are you stalling because your chest gets tight and you kind of forget how to breathe every time Seokjin tells you he loves you, or are you stalling because his boner is still very prominent and the two of you had decided to take it slow? Definitely both.

And it isn’t like you mind. One of the many upsides to being with Seokjin is that time is the one thing you’ll never want for. There will always be time, so you don’t mind sparing a bit of it until you’re both on the same page. Bless him, Seokjin had nearly looked green the first time he’d broached the topic: stuttered his way through an explanation on how it’d been decades since his last partner, his last real one because the ‘biting people for extra money’ stuff didn’t really count—that the last time he’d been with a human was back when he still was one, too, so he’s a little nervous, would you mind waiting, he just needs to do some… research, is all. Just so he doesn’t embarrass himself, he’d said, and you’d just nodded along and pressed your lips to his forehead and said of course, whatever you want, it’s all okay with me.

So you’re trying to be respectful.

You are being respectful, but it’s a little hard to think straight when his boner is pressed against your pelvis.

Still, you groan. “Can you not remind me that you’re an undead immortal being while your erect penis is touching me?”

Because he loves nothing more than antagonizing, Seokjin just presses harder against you. “Why?” he teases, shit-eating grin on his face. “Is it weird?”

You roll your eyes. “A little, yeah.”

“We could make it even more weird.” He waggles his eyebrows at this.

Usually you’d brush off a quip like that: just Seokjin being Seokjin, another way for him to tease you. But this, too, isn’t so easy to ignore when he’s hard and on top of you, gazing down at you the way he is, all heat and bad ideas. Like he’d happily devour you whole if you said the word, and the word is biting at the back of your teeth, right on the tip of your tongue. You want to. You want, have wanted for a long time, but—

“Seokjin,” you manage to choke out. A real feat, considering he’s rocking slow against you. So slow you probably wouldn’t notice if you weren’t hyper-aware of every single thing, every shift in movement. “You wanted to wait, remember?”

He just hums. Presses his lips back to your neck, easily finds that spot that drives you wild. “I’ve been studying,” he says. Has his voice always been that deep? No, you think, this is just horny delirium. A hormone-induced mirage, tempting you to the edge.

“Okay.” You try really hard to sound put-together. “I’m not really sure what that means.”

Seokjin huffs a laugh and you feel that, too. “It means I’ve been watching a lot of porn and jerking off for weeks while you’re at work, and most of the time I’m so fucking horny I can barely keep my dick in my pants.”

All of that sounds… really nice, although the thought of Seokjin touching himself, head thrown back in pleasure, that neck on full display, toes curled, does very little to help your self-control. Still, you manage to curb it, pulling back just enough to catch his gaze. “Are you ready, though? I don’t mind waiting. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

He pecks your nose. “I don’t. I’m ready, I trust you, we’ve already talked about all the important stuff, and if I jerk off one more time I think my dick is going to protest and fall off.”

When you look at him, there’s not a trace of hesitation to be found. It’s a little maddening how he can go from looking at you with such fervor right back to something like spun sugar. That’s how he’s looking at you now: with trust, with love, with excitement. And it’s ironic, you think, that he’s the hiemal one between you, because he always manages to fill you with warmth.

Just like the sun. You reflect everything he feels for you, all the devotion, and return it tenfold.

So there’s no hesitation in you, either, when you smile and say okay.

Much like he is any other time, Seokjin is an absolute hellion in bed.

You’ve been teased within an inch of your life, hands and tongue everywhere except where you need them most, and he’s completely impervious to your suffering. The corners of his mouth quirk upward before he resets them, relishing in your begging but not letting you catch on, and then he’s dragging you to the edge once more, pushing your hips back down to the bed with a hushed I know, baby, I know.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, almost mocking. “You’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs, and you try to pretend the praise doesn’t set you alight. It had taken a while to find his rhythm, but it must be like riding a bike, you think. Seokjin probably could’ve gone an entire millennia without doing this and it’d still be just as good. It pisses you off a little. “Are you ready?” You nod as best you can. “You have to use your words,” he goads, “I can’t read your mind.”

Maybe he can’t, but your answer is obvious enough: the way you’re writhing, the rapid beating of your heart, the heat between your thighs. If it feels this overwhelming to you, there’s no way Seokjin’s unaware. And you know he isn’t—know he’s only doing it to get a reaction, to drag it out further, so you just huff. Disengage. Seokjin can’t win if you don’t play, and maybe you reflect his sunlight, but you can reflect his chaos, too.

“Babe.” He laughs. Works a hand over his cock once, twice when he realizes you’re looking. “Don’t start getting petty now, of all times.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, then,” you fire back. “You know I’m ready. Been ready for hours.”

He huffs. “It’s only been twenty minutes.”

You narrow your eyes. “Hours,” you repeat.

“Sheesh, okay, okay.” Just as he’s about to press inside, he pauses. Looks at you with that loved-up look again. Normally it’d be endearing, butter soft, but you’ve been at his mercy for far too long and it’d started taking its toll somewhere around minute two, so. “Hey, you know I—”

“Seokjin, I swear to fucking god—”

He huffs again, nothing but exasperation, and finally gives you what you want. The initial stretch takes your breath away, giving way to full full full, the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel, but then it’s—

“Jesus Christ!”

There’s just screeching. From you and Seokjin, because while you’re trying to scamper up the bed, he’s pulling out and wearing a full-on grimace. You can’t even lie, that hurts. You’ve had a lot of awkward one night stands, but no one has ever grimaced before.

“Hot!” Seokjin wails, grabbing at his crotch. “Holy fuck, hot! Hot! My fucking dick is on fire—”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull. “Hot?! Are you fucking joking? It feels like you just impaled me with an icicle!”

It does. There’s still a phantom pain in your cunt that feels a lot like frostbite. Like when someone sticks their cold hands up the back of your shirt.

Seokjin ignores you, though. Just puffs out his cheeks and blows room-temperature air towards his cock, and you’d maybe laugh if this was any other time in any other situation. Having this happen the first time the two of you have had sex is… mortifying. A little worrying for the future, too, because you’ve tried those warming lubes and they’re terrible. It’s also just—disappointing. You’d been looking forward to this for a long time, being close to Seokjin in this way, and of all the times you’d envisioned it, you didn’t imagine your body heat would be too scorching for his penis, of all things.

Shit.

You’re not going to cry.

Not over this.

Not while Seokjin is still hopping around the bedroom on one leg, still desperately puffing out air. Not while he’s chastising his cock in the process. Something that sounds suspiciously like c’mon buddy, it’s just a little body heat, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this, fuck, c’mon. Another thing you might laugh at another time, but you can’t. Not now. Not while Seokjin finally sighs in defeat and meets your eye and looks equally devastated.

Devastation looks worse on him than it feels on you, so you joke, “Maybe we should’ve started with oral?”

A beat of silence. Then the disappointment cracks and he’s sending you a blinding smile. “Something something Icarus, too close to the sun, et cetera.” He flops unceremoniously on the bed and drapes half his body over you. “Seems pretty obvious in retrospect, huh?”

Your fingers are immediately in his hair. “Yeah.” Lips find the top of his head. “We’ll figure it out.”

(And you do. Condoms are the first experiment, even though they were essentially useless before, considering Seokjin’s dead and all, unable to reproduce or harbor any kind of infection. Problem with that is—

“Why are they all so fucking thin?” Seokjin whines, staring down at another box with CLOSEST THING TO WEARING NOTHING! across the front.

You snort, tossing back another box of the same. “Because most men don’t want to wear a condom and will gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss their way into going raw.”

So you try a different approach and order the super thick ones meant to help with premature ejaculation. Those are okay, but almost too effective. Sex with Seokjin is great, it turns out, but not when it seems to go on endlessly and everything starts to hurt and chafe and Seokjin’s trying, babe, you think I wouldn’t have come by now if I could, but, well. The condoms work as advertised, is the thing.

Back to Old Reliable, then: oral sex. Even having your mouth around his dick nearly sends him launching off the bed, but the two of you figure it out. Small kitten licks until he starts to acclimate, an inch or two at a time once the whole dick is in your mouth, and slow, slow, slow. Truthfully, it’s a long and tedious process, and it all but kills the idea of wild, spontaneous fucking, but the actual sex part, when you finally figure it out, is so goddamn good you figure you can go without.)

“Does your family know about me?”

Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner considering your birthday is just around the corner. You aren’t doing much to celebrate, considering it’s in the middle of the week, but it hadn’t stopped your mother and sister from offering to take you to lunch on the weekend. Seokjin hadn’t said much when you told him about it, complaining for the nth time about the seafood restaurant your mom’s insisting on just because it’s her favorite, but you can see now why this might’ve been on his mind.

“Yeah, of course they do.”

Also unsurprisingly, he seems shocked to hear this. “What?”

“Why wouldn’t they know about you?”

“Um. Because I’m… y’know. A vampire.”

You roll your lips, suppressing a laugh. “Are you calling my family racist?”

“No! I am definitely not saying that!” he sputters, suddenly finding the new rug very interesting. Xander had barfed all over the last one in a way that was completely unsalvageable. “I just—I was just wondering? Since it’s your birthday soon, and you’re going to lunch with them, and I didn’t know, like, if they knew about me? Like, I’m sure they know you have a roommate, but do I have to pretend to not be your boyfriend if they come over? Like, if we’re just roommates, should I come out screaming about losing all my socks in the dryer or leaving dishes in the sink or something—”

“Is that what you think roommates fight about?”

This puts an abrupt end to his spiral. “Er, yeah? That’s what they fight about on TV.”

“Okay, remind me to change the Netflix password. Now, will you come here?” You stand from your spot on the couch and engulf him in a hug. “They know about you. All of it, so you don’t need to worry about it, all right?” You pull back. “Unless you’re worried about something else?”

“No,” he answers, voice small.

“Okay. My sister dated an absolute demon in college, so you being a vampire is nothing in comparison, trust me.”

“Demons aren’t real.”

“They are, and my sister has somehow dated all of them. My mom actually contacted the church about an exorcism.” This gets a laugh out of him. “Now, do you want to come to lunch with someone who consorts with demons and someone who puts any modicum of trust in the Catholic church, or is that a hard pass for you?”

He nuzzles further into your neck. “Are they nice?”

“They’re okay.”

“Are they like you?”

“I’m definitely the hotter sister, despite whatever my sister may think, and I have to text my mother every month to remind her to pay her car insurance because she forgot and let it expire twice and got tickets both times, so I’m not sure what that says about her, but they did raise me, so. I don’t know, I guess so?”

“Then they’re probably nice and I think I’d probably like to meet them.”

Your heart feels warm again.

On the morning of your birthday lunch, you wake up alone.

This is uncommon but not outright strange, so you think nothing of it. If you had Seokjin’s ultrasonic hearing, you would’ve heard the three vampires giggling in the kitchen, trying desperately to hush one another every ten seconds because they’re incapable of shutting up, but you don’t, so you trudge into the en suite to pee and brush your teeth, ignore the mess of hair on your head, and then trudge into the kitchen.

“Surprise!” Jungkook screams, popping out from behind the island. Taehyung’s at the sink, clearly trying to hide the remains of some science project gone wrong, and Seokjin’s slumped against the counter with his head in his hands.

Still, there’s a half-assed birthday cake being presented to you, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! written in Seokjin’s recognizable scrawl, and a smile rapidly forming. “You made this yourselves?” you ask, more to make conversation than genuine curiosity. No bakery on earth would sell something that looks like the cake in front of you.

“Of course we did,” Taehyung says, snark loaded and ready, “what do you take us for, amateurs?”

Jungkook ignores him. “Seokjin-hyung says you turned twenty-eight and that’s a big deal so we wanted to do something nice!”

“Well, that’s a straight up lie,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes. “We wanted to get you a cake but we have no idea how to order things at human bakeries and the lady behind the counter was mean as fuck so hyung looked up how to make one from scratch.”

“It was awful,” Seokjin moans, agony muted by the countertop. “Don’t ever ask me to bake something again.”

“No one asked you to do anything,” Jungkook snaps. “This was your idea! You were the one who texted us and said, and I quote, ‘My idiotic little dongsaengs, I want to do something special for her because I’m in love, so I’m going to look up how to bake a cake from scratch and the two of you are going to help me, and if you say no I will hack into the blood bank database and change your blood preference to O-negative,’ to which Taehyung replied, and I quote, ‘Don’t you dare sign me up for that basic bitch blood, hyung, that’s just cruel,’ to which I replied, and I quote, ‘Hyung only just learned how to use a smartphone, there’s no way,’ to which you replied, and I quote, ‘Here is the recipe, be at my apartment by six a.m. or else.’”

“Wow, his memory is freakishly good and kind of weird,” Taehyung marvels. Jungkook preens.

“Well,” you begin, going around the kitchen to give each of them a tight hug, “I’ve never gotten a homemade cake before, so I am very appreciative and a little overwhelmed.”

When you reach Seokjin, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you. You’re the best and I love you.”

“Gross,” Taehyung and Jungkook say in unison.

Hours later, long after you’ve tried to figure out how to tackle the cake and how long it could conceivably stay fresh for compared to how much of it you could conceivably eat, and long after Jungkook offers to ‘demolish it right now’ and you make a Matilda reference and have to explain the entire plot to him just to explain who Bruce is, there’s a knock at your door that can only be your mom and sister.

You’re not dressed. You’re not even showered.

There are three chaotic vampires in your kitchen arguing over what to do with the cake.

This is not how you wanted Seokjin’s first time meeting your family to go.

But it works out all the same, just as it always does. The introductions are awkward only because of the state of the kitchen, but between Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, your mom and sister are charmed long before you pass your phone around to order food, because there’s no way any of you are going out now.

Another thing that’s easy. Another moment in which you find yourself thankful that Seokjin has nothing but time, because you think you’d be very happy to spend most of yours like this: surrounded by the people you love, ears ringing from laughter. Another memory in a span of months that’s jam-packed with new ones. Another slice of cake gone when your sister bravely volunteers to try one. Another sly look at her from Taehyung, because he’s been doing it all afternoon and doesn’t realize he’s not subtle.

Another round of hugs. Another birthday gone. Another mess to clean up once it’s just you and Seokjin left in the apartment, Jungkook halfway out the door when he calls out over his shoulder, “Taehyungie-hyung says he’s gonna bite the wrong person too and get kicked out of the clan so he can hook up with your sister,” just because he’s a shithead. Another punch to his shoulder.

Another time you look at Seokjin and think, I’m so fucking in love with him, I’d follow him anywhere.

Another author’s note: I wanted to leave the ending a little open-ended. I’m sure people have thoughts on turning, and it wasn’t something that I wanted to write into this fic but wanted to broach the topic of because that’s, like, The Thing about vampire/human relationships. My headcanon is that this reader does, just because I want them to live happily ever after forever, but I didn’t want to force that on everyone and dampen the reading experience.

As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #thebtswritersclub #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fic #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #ksj x reader

[hwabang]

your jungwon x older reader posts had me thinking: jealous jungwon vs older idol who has admitted to having a crush on reader and every knows (even reader lol). and they both end up being pitied against each other in a variety show game.

how do you think jealous jungwon would react / act during the variety show game?

bonus: reader is a guest mc for it and sees jealous jungwon

(whether jungwon and reader are in a public or private relationship is up to you)

A Little Push - Yang Jungwon

Genre: slight angst + fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, idol!reader x idol!jungwon, '03 reader, friends to lovers, sad jungwon, jealous jungwon, mentions of SKZ's LeeKnow, two mentions of ITZY's Ryujin, use of the word Noona, brief description of kiss scene, cursing, slight aggression from Jungwon's side

Author’s Note: IT'S SO MUCH PLOT I'M SORRY LMAOOO! but this is such a cute request, thank you for sending it in! feel free to send in more and i hope you like this one <3

Word Count: little less than 3k

(gif not mine!)

There is not a single K-Pop fan in the world who doesn't know of Jungwon's crush on you.

They didn't even have to be a fan of your group or ENHYPEN's. Just being a K-pop fan, of any group, there are some industry things you know well. And this was one of them.

Jungwon had been basically infatuated with you since his I-LAND days. But he didn't act on it until this year, when he became an adult. Sure he's only a year younger than you, but he knew that if he wasn't also an adult when hitting on you, you wouldn't take him seriously.

However you were making it quite hard for Jungwon. Jungwon had confessed his undying love for you so many times in public; during lives, during variety shows, en o'clock; you name it. At first everyone thought it was a running joke between the two of you; maybe you guys just have that type of friendship. But that opinion was quickly changed when clips of Jungwon looking at you with love and adoration circled the internet.

Although he was constantly flirting with you and caring for you, Jungwon never outright confessed his feelings directly to you. Once, he said it during a variety show, but the whole point of the game was to raise your heartbeat. And so being the competitive person he is, he confessed to you on camera. But that definitely was no real confession that you'd accept.

You were always asked about this on variety shows or your own lives; whether you liked Jungwon back or not but you never gave a clear answer. You always said something along the lines of how much you appreciate Jungwon's attraction towards you, leaving your fans and ENGENES quite confused on your feelings. Sometimes you would comment how cute he is, or how hot he looks when watching some ENHYPEN related content for your lives, but that's about it. Nobody else knew how you felt for Jungwon.

Nobody except the one and only LeeKnow.

Being in a company where idols act like family, like in JYPE, you grew quite close to many idols and that includes the members of STRAYKIDS. As close as you were to your fellow label mates, you weren't planning on telling a single soul that you reciprocated Jungwon's love for, even if that single soul was one of your group member's.

You didn't plan on telling anyone, but that doesn't mean people couldn't figure it out.

Everyone who knew you well knew you had a thing for Jungwon. Did they know you liked him as much as he liked you? Well, some did. One of them being LeeKnow.

He was currently an MC for a newer variety show that was going crazy in Korea right now. His co-MC was Ryujin, but she got quite sick so he was scrambling to find a temporary MC for the upcoming episode and he remembered you were talking about wanting to try MC-ing for a while.

That, and this episode was gonna feature ENHYPEN.. and LeeKnow had a devilish plan.

You had joined him on set for a brief run-through of tomorrow's episode with ENHYPEN, when he told you his plan; he was gonna flirt with you and do everything in his power to make Jungwon jealous. "That sounds evil, Minho."

He nodded. "Yeah? It's my plan."

You shook your head, not believing the words coming out of this man, your sunbaenim's, mouth. "Well your plan has so many flaws. Why are we trying to purposely hurt Jungwon's feelings?"

"Because you like him?" he said matter of factly. "What better way to get a guy to confess to you than to push him to his limits? Sometimes a little push is all it takes y'know."

"... As much as I agree.. I don't wanna do that to Jungwon. And besides, who would I flirt with? If I flirt with his members, he's gonna be more hurt than jealous if anything."

"No no we won't stoop that low. You'll flirt with me."

You crossed your arms and giving him a look as if silently calling him crazy. "You're fucking kidding."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm in need of an MC, I ask the girl I'm close with even though she's never MCed a day in her life; why? Because I'm trying to spend more time with her! So I flirt with her! It's the perfect plot Y/N."

"You're not my type."

LeeKnow put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "You're not my type either dipshit. Which is why it works perfectly. I pretend to flirt with you a bit, you fake shyness and play into it, you get the guy and our friendship stays the same."

"... I don't know..."

"Hey no pressure, but just think of it as some fun."

With a bit more coercion from your good friend, you agreed. And so you were just anticipating what would happen in a week from today, which came real soon.

It was now the filming day, and you were doing everything in your power to avoid ENHYPEN ever since they got here. You were busy and nervous for your first MC gig, yes, but also you were kinda avoiding Jungwon.

Not Jungwon, but the shift in his energy that would happen once Minho started "flirting" with you. But your tactics of avoiding him had come to an end.

"Noona!"

You turned around and saw Jungwon cheekily smiling at you. He jogged over to you and stood right in front of you, looking down at you with a glitter in his eyes. "There you are. Hi," he said cutely.

"Hi," you returned with the same energy. You turned back to your desk and started picking up your cue cards. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I've been trying to greet you ever since I got here, but I feel like you're ignoring me."

You could hear the pout on his face so you turned around and your thought was confirmed. "Sorry Jungwon-ah.. I'm just nervous to be an MC."

"Don't be nervous Noona. You're an ace, you're good at everything you do. I'll give you encouragement throughout the filming, okay?"

You gave him a genuine smile, your heart jumping at how cute he was, but it didn't last long.

"Hey gorgeous."

Both yours and Jungwon's heads whipped to the side where you saw Minho coming towards you guys with a playful smirk on his lips.

He walked up to you and leaned in real close, still smirking. "You look really good."

You eyed Jungwon before responding, who had a very confused look on his face. "I-it's just my makeup artist.. did a really good job today."

Minho hummed, pretending to check you out. "Nah, it's all you beautiful." Minho wrapped an arm around your shoulder, something you gave him the okay for earlier, before he looked towards Jungwon. "Sorry Jungwon-ah, did I interrupt your conversation?"

He looked a bit taken back before quickly shaking his head, but the scowl on his face was still there. "N- No Hyung, you're good. I just came over..."

Jungwon trailed off seeing Minho's hand slid down to your waist and pull you in closer. "Alright. Well I'm gotta get my makeup fixed. You two finish your conversation." Minho then turned to you and winked. "See you out there sexy."

After Minho walked away there was awkward silence between you and Jungwon for a bit, before he looked down and scoffed, chuckling a little. "Didn't know Minho Hyung had a thing for you."

You were a bit flustered, not knowing how to answer since you didn't want to necessarily hurt Jungwon. "Yeah I uh, didn't know either..."

"You look good together," he admitted while clenching his jaw.

You shook your head. "Jungwon it's not–"

"No, I get it. He's good looking, smart, funny, talented; all around a good guy."

"You are too," you defended.

"But he's older than you."

"Jungwon-ah–"

"You like older guys, of course you do. Why would you like someone like m–"

"Jungwon!" You interrupted him by cupping his cheek. You stared into his eyes, hesitating before making your next move. "We'll talk about this later okay?" You softly kissed his cheek and moved back a little to see his reaction, which was priceless. His cheeks were blushing a pinkish rose color, his eyes had that sparkle again, and his lips were pursed as if he's trying to contain a huge smile. Your hand lingered on his cheek before giving it a little pat and then you walked away, getting ready to start filming.

The filming was going very well. All of ENHYPEN seemed to be enjoying and were quite comfortable filming with you and LeeKnow. As for you, you were actually a lot less nervous once the camera started rolling. Maybe it's the idol in you? Sure. Or maybe it's Jungwon giving you sly thumbs ups whenever he could, encouraging smiles, quick winks that he really attempted to do.

Jungwon's mood quickly dejected once the games started. A heartbeat monitor was hooked up to you and the objective of this game was to see which team of the two could get your heart beating the fastest. They were allowed to come close to you, say pick up lines, do aegyo; basically anything but touch you.

Since ENHYPEN are an odd number of people, LeeKnow joined the team with less people. So now you had Niki, Jay, Heeseung, and LeeKnow on one team. The other team was Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jungwon.

For Team 1, Niki went first. Your heart rate didn't go up too much with him, although you were a little flustered at his attempt at flirting. However he was laughing too much which in the end made you laugh along.

Jake was up first for his team, which gave the 2nd team all the confidence they needed. As much as Jungwon didn't wanna admit it, Jake was an expert at flirting so he knew you'd get flustered easily which is an advantage for their team. True to his reputation Jake was able to get you flustered, much to Jungwon's dismay. He quickly suppressed the jealousy he felt and continued on enjoying the game.

It was a close tie now. Jay and Sunghoon were up against each other; Sunghoon was able to fluster you while Jay ended up bursting out laughing. Same thing happened with Heeseung and Sunoo; Heeseung easily flustering you.

Now it was Jungwon's turn; the one you were anticipating the most. He smirked slightly before coming up to you and crouching down, getting really close to your face. "Noona, why won't you date me."

Your heart was rapidly beating but your heart rate didn't go up, shocking everyone.

"Eh?!" Sunoo exclaimed. "How come?"

You stuck your tongue out at Jungwon. "Obviously, you made one grave mistake in that Jungwon-ah."

Everyone knew that Jungwon instantly could tell what the mistake was, but LeeKnow decided to let him know anyways with a snicker. "Yah Yang Jungwon, do you really like Y/N? If you did you would know she likes older guys!"

Jungwon didn't have a reaction, trying not to start something with his sunbae while filming. "Ani, Hyung, she likes younger guys too."

Minho nodded while still laughing. "Yeah, but not when the younger guys call her Noona." He stepped up to you, unconsciously shoving Jungwon aside. "Let me show you how it's done," he smirked.

He did the same thing Jungwon did, getting real close up to you still holding his signature smirk. "Hmm, baby, you have some hair covering your beautiful face. Can I move it for you?" Wordlessly you nodded and let LeeKnow tuck some strands of your hair behind your ear. After he was done he let out a sexy chuckle and whispered in your ear but the mic picked it up; "Good girl."

Every one watched the monitor as your heart rate shot from 84 to 105, indicating Team 1's win. Heeseung and Niki ran around the set screaming in excitement while Jay went to collect the prize. The other team was sulking except Jungwon. Jungwon's jaw was tightly clenched and he couldn't move his eyes away from where you and LeeKnow were now standing.

The rest of the filming went smoothly, accept it was clear Jungwon was out of it. Poor baby tried his best, but he couldn't get the results of the flustering you game out of his head; how your heart rate increased that much with a man that wasn't him.

After filming was done, everybody headed back to their respective spots where they were before filming had started. You were talking to LeeKnow about how the show went when you heard someone clear their throat behind you two. You turned around and were greeted by Jungwon, who had an unreadable expression on his face. "Excuse me Hyung, if you're done talking to Y/N Noona now, I'd like to speak with her."

LeeKnow tried not to smirk and nodded instead, turning back to you. "Well, my offer still stands Y/N-ah. Text me when you come up with a decision. I'll see around the company." He gave you a side hug and said goodbye to Jungwon before leaving you two be.

After he left you walked a bit further to a secluded area so nobody could hear you two talk; you had a feeling this conversation shouldn't be for all ears. "Yeah Jungwon, what is it?"

"Y/N."

"Huh?"

"I'm gonna call you by your name now. No more Noona. I didn't think you'd mind anyways. That's fine right?"

Still quite taken a back, you nodded. "Y-yeah, that's fine..."

"What are you playing at Y/N?" he questioned.

You tilted your head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I thought we had something!" he exclaimed. "Every time I flirt with you, you never reject it so I thought you felt the same way! Then I come here today and see LeeKnow Hyung flirting with you too! You kiss my cheek, and then turn and let him flirt with you again!" Jungwon let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair and speaking to you in a much more calmer tone. "It hurts okay? I've liked you– No, I-I've loved you.. for so long now. You never hit on me but you let me hit on you, so I thought this was going somewhere. And now to see someone else flirting with you.."

"Jungwon..."

"No, let me finish. I'm afraid if I don't get this out now, it'll stay in me forever... I know I'm younger than you and you don't think I'm mature enough but I am! I can be exactly what you're looking for in a man. J-just tell me straight Y/N, please," he begged.

You felt absolutely terrible. What could you say now to make up for the trouble you put Jungwon through today? Nothing seemed to be enough in your head, so you decided to show him instead.

You were already by a wall, so you backed yourself into it and pulled Jungwon by his shirt into you, colliding your lips with his.

He was quite shocked but quickly recovered, closing his eyes and melting into the kiss. His left hand went on the wall next to your head and his right arm snaked around your waist, pulling you further into him.

After a few seconds of kissing you pulled away and rested your hands on Jungwon's shoulders. You looked straight into his blown out eyes, letting your gaze rest their for a bit.

"Y/N..." he breathed out.

"Why didn't you directly confessed to me before today, hmm?" you cooed.

"I-I don't know.. I think I just chicken out every time... y-you're too pretty and I can't handle it."

You giggled and cupped his cheek again just like last time. "Cute. I like you too Wonnie."

His eyes lit up at both the confession and the nickname falling from your lips. "You do? You actually do?"

You nodded. "Will you go on a–"

"Wait!" he interrupted with a bashful look on his face. "I-I wanna be the one to ask... Will you go on a date with– Actually no. Will you be my girlfriend Y/N?"

Your response was a kiss on his cheek before you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

Jungwon giggled and wrapped his arms around your waist too. You hugged for a moment before he pulled away. "Wait, what about LeeKnow Hyung?"

"Ah..." you blushed. "That "flirting" was an evil plan created by him to get you to confess to me?"

"Really!? So he doesn't like you?"

You shook your head in reassurance. "We don't have any feelings for each other, like at all. I promise."

"Then what was he telling you earlier? H-he wanted you to text him after coming up with a decision.. I thought he asked you out.."

You bursted out laughing at the absurdness. "God no! ITZY is going on tour soon and he needs an MC to replace Ryujin, so he was asking if I wanted to do it. That's it."

Jungwon sighed in relief and smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Thank God.. hey are you free for the rest of the day?"

"Yeah why?"

"Let's go on a date today."

#i'm sorry this is so long lmaoo #enhypen #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines #jungwon reactions #enhypen reactions

[fivie]

Hello, if I may ask, do you have any headcanons about enjolras and courfeyrac in the umw universe?

Hello!! I'm about to become an unskippable cutscene 😃

I can't quite remember if any of this has already been mentioned in Enjolras POV chapters but I'll just list everything I've got lol:

- They met when they were seven years old. I've never thought all that much about their parents since they don't feature in the story (though it's safe to assume that Enjolras was already fairly estranged from his parents by the time he became a hunter) but I've always had it in my head that they were initially shoved together because their parents were part of the same social circle and did that thing where they decided their kids should also be friends. I think this happened a lot to both of them as kids and generally didn't work out, especially for Enjolras, who was a shy, serious sort of child and often considered either intimidating or just plain weird by his peers, but on this one occasion it turned out well! Courfeyrac immediately considered Enjolras to be extremely smart and cool, and while Enjolras (unused to positive feedback) was a little unsure of this at first, he quickly realised that Courfeyrac was genuine and they've been best friends ever since.

- They are a classic case of an extrovert adopting an introvert.

- Enjolras has always struggled with making friends—Courfeyrac was really his only close friend through their earlier years at school, but Courfeyrac is very outgoing and gregarious and has a lot of love to give and so he always had a lot of friends, and there were definitely times when Enjolras felt sort of jealous of that, and worried that Courfeyrac would lose interest in him in favour of others. It never happened, of course.

- They met and befriended Joly and Bossuet in their first year at high school, and Marius in their first year of university. 

- Their friendship has always confused onlookers since they seem so different, but they actually do have quite a lot in common, and the ways that they are different work to their advantage: Courfeyrac sometimes does need someone to be the voice of reason and responsibility, Enjolras sometimes needs someone to tell him to lighten up.

- Courfeyrac has always been the more emotionally intelligent of the two, but he used to joke that this was the only area in which he was more intelligent than Enjolras because for a long time he didn't consider himself particularly academically smart and would be quite self-deprecating about it. Enjolras never agreed with this assessment and Courfeyrac eventually grew out of the notion, which mainly stemmed from how the adults in their lives perceived him and his more boisterous personality.

- Courfeyrac is bisexual and figured that out pretty quickly as a young teenager. He had a lot of crushes throughout high school and dated quite a few people and Enjolras was woefully unequipped to deal with the emotional turmoil of these teen relationships but did his best to be supportive. For a while they both thought that Enjolras just hadn't reached “the stage” of being interested in dating etc yet, but after a while they realised that this supposed transformation didn't seem to be forthcoming and decided to do some research, leading to Enjolras happily using the aro/ace label for a few years. He was extremely alarmed when he later did develop an interest in a fellow student at university, leading to further research and an understanding that catching feelings is something that happens to him very occasionally. When he least expects it, you might say 👀

- Truly there's a whole slice of life teen drama here that I could get into if I wasn't too busy writing the monster-hunting plot 😂

- Enjolras really struggled with his decision to leave Lyon to pursue hunting without telling Courfeyrac, to the point that I have often daydreamed of an AU where everything is exactly the same except Enjolras ultimately couldn't go through with it and Courfeyrac ends up going with him.

- The characters have developed a lot in the ridiculous amount of time UMW has been ongoing, and I think if I was writing the earlier chapters now, knowing what I know, that Enjolras would have tried to explain to Courfeyrac where he was going, or told some lie to reassure him, or done something other than just vanishing and assuming Courfeyrac would get over it. I don't think him taking off the way he did in the story makes the most sense now, with how much weight their friendship has been given. But I'm locked into it by me from 10 years ago 😂

#thank u for this opportunity to ramble haha #umw stuff

[lulu2992]

My (spoiler-free) opinion on Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix

It was very good.

Seriously, I enjoyed it a lot! This “remix”, as the name suggests, is basically a big mashup of Ubisoft franchises, in a style that resembles Japanese animation (but by a French studio), and with a hint of arcade games. Some names, faces, or events may be familiar, but the story is set in 1992 in its own world with its own rules and people, so don’t expect anything or anyone to be exactly the same as what you’re used to.

For example, among the existing characters featured in Captain Laserhawk, we have Pagan Min, who still wears pink, has bleached hair and eyebrows, and is a villain, but isn’t a dictator, doesn’t seem to have the same backstory, and is more exuberant and carefree than he is in Far Cry 4 (he reminds me more of the young version of him we see in the Control DLC). Marcus Holloway, on the contrary, is older and more serious than his canonical Watch Dogs 2 self, but he’s still part of the series’ version of DedSec.

Visually speaking, it’s very rich, and the animation manages to be simultaneously “simple” (because of the low frame rate) and impressive. Sometimes, the show temporarily becomes a retro game, which I thought was really cool, not to mention a clever way to move the story forward. Not only are those “gameplay sequences” very well done and look like actual games, but various styles are also represented (platformers, shooters, even a dating simulator), so they really are a nice, original touch.

The soundtrack is reminiscent of the music we could hear in Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon, and I don’t have much to say about it except that it was good and worked well!

As for the story, it was well-written and engaging; I watched the show in one sitting and never got bored. There’s at least one plot twist in each of the six episodes, and while the series is inspired by and references a lot of existing pieces of media, it still feels unique and manages not to fall into easy tropes and clichés. It’s funny, but it knows how to be sad. It’s colorful, but it can get really dark. It’s animated fiction, but it also tackles very real issues. Captain Laserhawk does it all, at it does it well. It’s made for an adult audience, so it contains violence, blood, drugs, vulgar language, nudity, and (implied) sex. That said, those mature elements, much like everything in the series, are well-dosed and don’t feel gratuitous, in my opinion. It’s appropriately inappropriate, I would say.

In general, I thought the actors were good and that the characters were compelling. My favorite is probably Bullfrog because he has some great scenes and I think he encompasses all aspects of the show: he’s here for comic relief but has solemn moments, he’s a cute cartoonish frog but also a skilled Assassin, etc. On a side note, as a French person, I really appreciate that his accent, although very strong, is real and not a caricatural imitation. Even when he lets out things like “ok, d’accord”, “et merde”, or even just “oui”, it sounds spontaneous and natural.

In conclusion, Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix is great. Both esthetically and narratively, it’s super creative, there’s always something happening, and you’re constantly surprised. This show is a lot but, strangely, it’s never too much. I think it’s obvious by now, but I recommend watching it (if you’re over 18... or just 16 in my country for some reason), even if you’ve never played a single Ubisoft game in your life and just want to see a good animated series. In the end, the thing I dislike most about it is that... there aren’t more episodes!

#I wasn’t sure what to expect but honestly I’m not disappointed #again don’t expect the characters you know to be in character because they won’t #the series really is its own thing in its own universe #and it was great not to have to worry about continuity for once #captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk a blood dragon remix #pagan min #marcus holloway #bullfrog #he’s great honestly #and it’s so refreshing that he’s played by an actual french person and not someone with a fake and forced accent #not really surprising since it’s a french studio but still

[negrowhat]

Hey Eboni!! I hope you're well. I was searching for a new BL to watch and I came across some of my faves from when I first got into them and it got me wanting to hear your thoughts on quite a few things. I'm just going to bother you with the top one though. What are some of the steamiest 🌶️🌶️🌶️ BLs that you've watched? Maybe top 6? It could be older or a newer release.

HELLO! You can always drop by with BL questions lol! Steamy BLs are quite a new thing these days, more and more series are incorporating more sex-positive themes into their series which can be a good and bad thing. We love some spice but sometimes that spice turns into 'How nasty can we make this before people start to complain?' Anyways here are some of my fave spicy BLs. Top 6 you say? Easy!

TharnType 1 and 2. I mean...people are allowed their opinion of the actual plot of the show, there are no wrong interpretations for that. Tharn and Type were both toxic and there was hella questionable content mixed in with romance and a splash of comedy. But I think we can all agree that Tharn and Type were pioneers in the Spicy Thai BL category. Half of the series was them banging and boy did they BANG and they did it well. I recently did a rewatch of TT2 and the amount of times Tharn was lifting Type's big 6 ft solid ass up onto a hard surface to ravage him was very many.

Why R U? the Series. Ok so COVID pretty much ruined all the couples on that show except FighterTutor, but what COVID did not ruin was the spicy bits of the series. The sexual tension between Fighter and Tutor was very high and it was showcased on the series very, very frequently. The way that one d!ck grabbing/makeout scene lived rent free in my mind for a very, very long time??? Not to mention there was some powerful vers energy between them and that made for some excellent spicy scenes.

Secret Crush on You. Nuea and Toh were all over each other; kissing, teasing, touching, and banging. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that Nuea did not care where they were, discretion was not a thing. The two of them were very sex positive and explored a lot of k!nks together. Consent was a constant thing featured in their conversations (and the overall series). Also kudos to them for talking about exploring being vers in one ep and following up with it in another ep.

Love in the Air. Horny BITCHES! And I mean PayuRain. The clear D/s relationship they had was *chef's kiss*. Their spicy scenes were top tier because it directly reflected the type of dynamic they had. Payu was introducing Rain to the wild side and Rain was an A+ overachieving student eager to push the limits and find out if he would be rewarded or punished...either way was good for him. I could go on and on and on about them. SkyPai definitely had some epic spicy scenes too but there were layers to their sexual relationship.

KinnPorsche the Series. Duh. My gawd. Their spicy scenes were top tier. All of them. It was clear that a lot of writing and thought went into the love scenes in this series. None of them felt cheap. Smut with emotions was very much what was happening in that series. The scenes were jaw dropping but also carried weight which made them more memorable to the masses.

Big Dragon the Series. That series was a bit of a mess but one thing they had a firm understanding of was SPICE! Mangkorn and Yai had that love/hate/fuck thing down real good! Yai also seemed to have a bit of a dom/bondage k!nk that I personally think was not explored enough...maybe in s2.

Honorable mentions to: War of Y, Y-Destiny (KaengPuth), We Best Love: Fighting Mr. 2nd, and the HIStory series.

#the thai series owns the spice #tharntype #tharntype the series #why r u #why r u? the series #secret crush on you #scoy #love in the air #love in the air the series #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #big dragon #big dragon the series

[batrachised]

Did you say you recently read/re-read Anne of Ingleside? What did you think of it?

Anne of Ingleside marks a change for me in the AoGG series, kind of a "before" and "after" marker. Before, every book focused on Anne's perspective throughout, with the exception of the first. In Anne of Ingleside, the focus of the story begins to shift from Anne herself to her children. Anne still features prominently in the book--unlike say, in Rainbow Valley--but her children get their own voice and narrative attention. This splintered attention only grows more prevalent in the remaining books of Rainbow Valley and The Blythes Are Quoted. (I didn't include Rilla, as Rilla of Ingleside has Anne, but also, it's about Rilla).

The introduction of the children means that much of the plot of Ingleside focuses on Anne's role as a mother and a wife. Looking at goodreads, this rubs a lot of readers the wrong way. Brilliant Anne Shirley, reduced to yet another happy wife happy life stereotype. I don't really agree with this conclusion, but I understand it. While I think choosing motherhood shouldn't be looked down on as a lesser choice, I think it's valid to find it less interesting from an entertainment perspective. (It's also impossible to separate from the historical context flavoring similar stories with "the home is where women belong!" although I don't think we really get that with Anne--in fact Gilbert explicitly acknowledges feeling guilt over the fact that he stole Anne's talent from the world in TBAQ). I also do think complaints of this ilk can be somewhat silly, because LMM novels are romantic slice of life books about young women on PEI in the late 1800s thru early 1900s--what did you expect the book was going to be about? There's a discussion to be had about female characters deserving more than what the time period they were written in afforded them (ie Jo March), but I think LMM does her characters justice most of the time. Anne isn't Emily, and Anne doesn't need to be.

Personally, I find Anne's new stage of life interesting, but I can find the focus on her children boring. Although I love the Blythe children as they grow older, half of them read too similar to Anne in this book for me to care about them as a unique voice (looking at you, Nan and Di). There are moments I do love--the glimpse at Walter's and Gilbert's relationship, Walter helpfully saying "his bottom," (all time favorite LMM moment), Jem flooring a playmate by saying dog's legs are supposed to reach the ground--but squinting at the children-focused parts of the book overall, I can't say they captivate me.

I do, however, love Anne's role as matchmaking matron who provides guidance to her children, the tension between her and Gilbert at the end of the book, Anne laughing at how women flirt with her doctor husband, her and Diana discussing the ups and downs of motherhood (someone here described them as wine moms and I loved it), and overall our look at a more mature Anne. LMM provides an engaging look at an older Anne and Gilbert with her delightful brand of whimsical realism. Sure, Anne and Gilbert got their happily ever after (ish, considering TBAQ and Rilla), but you know, happily every after can put you in a rut, and sometimes it comes with nasty in-laws, and it always comes with great loss to share. I enjoy the continuation of Anne's story; I less enjoy the handing off of the story to her children.

Where Ingleside really shines for me, though, is its foreshadowing. Ingleside was written last of all the Anne books, barring TBAQ (which really isn't an Anne book, but it so directly continues the storylines I count it as one). Rainbow Valley was published in 1919, Rilla was published in 1921 and Ingleside in 1939. That's a pretty significant gap of time, and it shows in Ingleside. As I've written before, WWI is foreshadowed in Rainbow Valley but it's from the perspective of a childhood daydream, albeit a chilling one, about a pied piper. Anne of Ingleside is much more blunt in foreshadowing the war. Diana tells Anne her son wants to be a soldier, and Anne laughs it off and says war is a thing of the past; Anne sees the shadow of the cross over Walter's bed and wonders at it in the future as she grieves; there's our subtle poppy moment, where Walter spills poppies, the symbol of WWI, and Anne muses on how they only have a day to live. Anne of Ingleside reads like one last happy summer day before the long gray winter of WWI, which saves it from being too humdrum a story.

#to be clear I love humdrum stories but lmm's usual strength is writing what could be viewed as humdrum and making it delightful #here it felt more humdrum to me #anne of ingleside #i also do love anne's kids (obviously-as i post again about walter) but I think it's the same deal as Davy in Avonlea #a little goes a long way #especially when it's a variety of kids none of whom have the focus of a full book and who are so little they can all read the same #Anne's kids when older have very distinct personalities but less so when little (just less!!)

[a-dumbass-jester]

Ok so this is what I have in the wh imortal au so far

story part

Og thread

“Witch’s heart au centered around the human side where you take the fact that wilardo is immortal and the other four(4) are mortal and flip it!(and kinda exaggerate it)”

- Wilardo Adler -

mortal human A 22 year old florist looking for flowers in a cave and then next thing they know they’ve been transported to another realm full of monsters and inhuman beings.

- Sirius Gibson -

a star(the Sirius star specifically) who lives in the sky, but can leave and visit other places if he wants. It’s also worth noting when he’s in the sky he can see everything. He can also distort gravity a little bit by making him and/or small/light objects float. Because of this he often likes wears very flowy loose light clothing. Edit: Sirius has constellations on his skin

- Claire Elford -

Bird like creature. Claire is a very friendly half bird half humanoid creature who shows Wilardo around after night falls and Sirius has to go back to the sky. Unlike most the creatures there Claire can die however it takes much more to kill her. She also lives much longer than humans to. Her arms and legs are that of a birds. She uses her arms to fly.

- Ashe Bradley -

a shapeshifting water creature (Inspo) he lives in oceans and comes up often to visit the others. He is made of water and the more water he has the bigger he can be. That’s why he’s essentially a giant when he’s in large bodies of water. His form is stable enough to be able to travel on land without consequences. When he’s on land he likes having a much smaller/ more human sided form. If he feels a lot of emotion (Especially negative ones) he can start to melt. He also likes to wear much looser clothing so he can shape-shift more comfortably.(I’m imagining something like a robe) he can also control and manipulate water that he is touching. His hair length constantly changes, most the time it is around floor length.

- Noel Levine -

Biblically accurate angel (reference 1) (reference 2)He lives in the sky and visits often. He wasn’t always like this, he was once human but died a few decades ago and became an angel. He is covered in eyes and wings. He has wings attached to the back of his head and back. He doesn’t actually have any facial features but it’s obscured by the wings, floating eyes, the eye loop things and hair that cover his face.

- Rouge -

a Medusa like creature (Inspo) I like to think she’d be a lot like that. She looks very similar but now her hair has been replaced with snakes. Also her whole turning people to stone think works with eye contact and best on humans. She’s often found in bars and places of the sort wearing a fancy red dress.

- Zizel -

a fairy/pixie. Imagine she as a tiny pixie that’s small enough to fit of peoples hands. She sips from tiny teacups and lives is big teapot. She also speaks with bell like sounds that everyone (except wilardo(and other humans)) can understand. Her and Sirius drink tea together sometimes:))

- Dorothy Elford -

Witch she look almost exactly like a human except for her point ears and ability to use magic

- Sheila -

siren/mermaid. she also looks more fish like there with visible gills, fish ears webbed fingers and various fins across her back and the backs of her forarms.

- Lime -

a catgirl or smth idk EDIT: NO IM CHANGING TJIS SHES AN OCTOPUS shes basically the same except her legs have been replaced with octopus tentacles(don’t be weird). She messes with Ashe a lot.

i migjt add more of the characters later

“Wilardo is a mortal who stumbled into a different realm of immortal and inhuman beings. The others are some of those immortal beings he comes across!”

The plot is basically wilardo and the rest of the human side try and figure out how they got here and how to get home

Wilardo got there by picking the dark lily

As a multishiper who ships wilardo with all of the human side I’m having so much fun with this

Put so much time into this I hope you like it!!

ALOS If anyone has any ideas feel free to tell me I would love to see them

#the dumbass speaks #witch’s heart #witch’s heart immortal au #witch’s heart au #whnoc #wilardo adler #sirius gibson #claire elford #ashe bradley #noel levine #rouge wh #zizel wh #dorothy elford #Sheila wh #sheila #lime wh #genderless wilardo my beloved<3 #genderfluid Sirius my beloved #I was going at add drawings and references to this but that’s going to take to long #so I’ll add them later

[linkspooky]

I’m curious, what’re your problems with the Zenin massacre? Cause personally that arc almost made me drop JJK

First, there was a lot of setup for pre-culling game arc that we were going to get a closer look at the politics of the Jujutsu World. For instance, Megumi inheriting the Zenin clan, and the Jujutsu High declaring Yuji and Yaga targets for execution could have shown us the complex politics at play with both the old families and the elders at Jujutsu High something we are constantly told about but not shown.

The three clans are also very plot important characters, as well as the elders, they're part of the worldbuilding and drviers for the plots and several characters backstories but we know practically nothing about them. We don't really know the internal workings of the Zenin clan, the rules, who is in charge, what their beliefs are, and what little we do learn comes from manga bonuses and not the story proper.

Jujutsu Kaisen if it took a break before the culling game arc in the aftermath of Shibuya, had a chance to demonstrate one the corruption of the jujutsu society and how it made it impossible for them to adapt to Kenjaku's plans because of their own politics and infighting, and number two present a conflict that's not really solved with fighting, because Megumi becoming clan head was something interesting he had to deal with because he has been sheltered from the Zenin clan from Gojo all his life. The Zenin clan in particular features in so many character backstories, and we know that they are toxic but we don't really know how.

The whole arc however takes place in less than ten chapters and it is rushed, not only because we literally know nothing about the characters before they are slaughtered other than they are one note and evil, but also any potential further conflict the Zenin clan could have caused in the story is now null and void. What is the point of Megumi becoming clan head and the conflict that could bring, if they are all just dead now? It doesn't feel like the culimation of a plot line it felt like Gege cutting a bunch of plot threads at once because he wanted to make the story shorter. Mai is fridged for Maki's development, which relied on a lot of bad tropes like one, this framing of good victim and bad victim that wasn't there in the first place Mai practically tells Maki it was her fault she couldn't get stronger because "Mai didn't want to get stronger" Like Mai's way of coping was less valid somehow because she didn't want to learn how to punch bad guys.

The reveal about how Mai and Maki's powers worked relied on a lot of magic twin tropes. It does a disservice to Maki's character, because basically more or less she does what Geto did with Mimiko and Nanako and that is snap and kill a lot of people in retalliation for the abuse of one child. Except Maki doesn't really self reflect on it after the fact, and that mass murder is treated like a good thing because she was killing bad people to the point where people sometimes try to tell me Geto's mass murder is completely different from Maki's mass murder like that's even something that matters. Murdering a lot of people is still mrudering a lot of people.

Mai's arc is just shot dead, and Maki's arc feels really rushed because like Maki didn't really make any emotional change, or even overcome any difficulty, she just got a power up at the expense of Mai's death. If you are going to give this incredibly tragic end to Maki's arc with both her trying to prove herself to her family, and also her sister with her sister dying before they can ever reconcile and her being pushed into revenge then at least she should be showing the effects of that tragedy. Yet, Maki for the most part seems fine? Geto's killing of the village led to the final nail in his coffin for his mental breakdown. Maki for the most part is just kind of chill? She's working with the other kids in helping with the culling games.

It's a very dark turn for a story like Jujutsu Kaisen, and especially the conflict between Maki and Mai where it was being set up they might have reconciled or learned to work together and work out their differences, rather than one of them being fridged to give a power up to the other. Also. Maki's relationship with Mai was her main point of character conflict from the Kyoto Battle Arc onward, besides her overall goal of crushing the Zenin, and now they are both gone and Maki is just kind of... continuing? Coasting? Without any real goal, or desire, or character flaw, except the vague idea of wanting to get stronger. It destroyed more character development than it created, and like if you are going to decide to take this dark and tragic turn for Maki's character than at least the story should acknowledge it. Maki doesn't really act like her sister died and she just killed like fifty people in revenge, she's just sort of aloof and withdrawn.

Also, the Zenin are just boring because they are so unsympathetic there's like, no trace of humanity with them. In the Zenin massacre arc they basically exist to be wholly unsympathetic people who exist to be killed by Maki.

For a much better example of an abusive family structure, the Zoldyck assassin family literally torture their children in order to make them stronger, and raise them to be murderers even turning the siblings individually against each other and yet in the world of hunter x hunter they are interesting because they're not irredeemably evil. Both parents are both blatantly abusers and yet the story constantly remarks, the Zoldycks in general feel a bizzare mix of overpowering love for their children, and also possessiveness that doesn't allow those children to be their own people to the point where they feel too much love where the love itself they have for their chidlren becomes corrosive to their identities. Which is shown in not only Killua's parents, but also Illumi his older brother's attempts to basically control his whole life with the intent of raising him up as the ideal heir. And like, also they literally torture their children. But like the emotions present in the family dynamic makes that aspect far more interesting as an analog for a real world abusive family because there is a human element in how they love their children, and yet use them as if they are dolls or see them as extensions of themsleves to use as they see fit.

The Zoldycks are compelling is what I'm saying, the Zenins are not for all the importance the story puts on the political influence they have in the world and the toxicity of their clan they're just generically evil and then they're dead.

#askspookies

[roxannepolice]

Something that I've noticed not even lately, because arguably this started a decade ago is the tendency to draw conclusions about a character's personality basing on a trailers (yes, this is about the DW one that aired today). Like. Trying to parse out the events basing on trailers is well established and has become nothing short of a game between producers and the audience, and this can be so good! Except with plotlines... you can be proven wrong. "Something so bad even the TARDIS ran away" was not the Toymaker, end of story. With character features, though...

I brought up this thing going on for nearly a decade, because the first thing that comes to my mind was Finn the Jedi Knight thing for the Force Awakens. And no, the specific shot of him with a lightsaber was just a one off, his was not the force focused part of the story. Except the idea that Finn just HAS TO BE force sensitive got so wormed into people's brains that it never went away, regardless of it playing no role in his arc? And everything that happened therein was interpreted through the lense of him being force sensitive? Even if it was detrimental to the plot? And yes, The Skywalker's Erection kinda confirmed it in the sudden decision to give up Lucas's pop-contemplation of theism in favour of ye ol' calvinism where force chooseth which stormtroopers achieve the kingdom of good guys merchandise, but frankly, taking that movie into consideration while analysing SW feels like interpreting a poem through the lens of an inkblot at its end?

Just. The problem with assumptions about a character's personality is that they can never be proven wrong. If you assume that a character is a ray of sunshine or a gloom cloud, this becomes the interpretative lens through which you view their actions, sometimes not in a straightforward way, but still. And I've already spotted some signs of it with Fifteen when the fandom jumped straight from the vision of him as the happiest puppy in history straight to the idea that it's all just a cover, he's suicidal actually, and not like. An eldritch horror who's got a friendly, open and fun loving disposition while being capable of self-reflection?

Idk, just musing.

#this is kinda what happened with 13 imo that's why i'm worried #like. fanon!13 seems to have been created before s11 even started and if it changed then only for ye ole it's a mask #and no i'm not stopping anyone from having their fun as they want! #just. #cultural ramblings

[pigdemonart]

Answering your questions and comments! Pt2

This is for most of the anon questions I got! 

I actually haven’t considered that! Part of me wanted to say accents aren’t a thing in Unova, but then I remembered the infamous nugget bros...and their catchphrase “nuggetabout it!” It just makes me wish every single character in Unova was heavily accented in all variations. But to answer the question, I haven’t given it any thought at all so I can’t say! 

I’ve answered this before I think? But my point remains the same. My art of them features them exclusively in a platonic way!  However, I don’t mind the ships, and I don’t mind people seeing it in such a way. I get comments all the time where people joke about “Elesa and her two malethings + her gf Skyla” Hell even I joke about it sometimes. But it’s all in good fun. 

I love all this Ramses love. He IS the best and you’re both 100% correct!! 

wags finger. this is inappropriate behavior. 

I don’t have a discord server (don’t plan to make one) but I share a space with my partner in their vtuber server! It’s a place where we share our work, promote ourselves and others, and chat a lot about fandom stuff. If you’re interested in joining, send me a DM!

OUghguUGHhh thank youuu.

OKAY. I’ll be cynical for a second: From what I’ve noticed (this is a small observation, not a factoid) I think a lot of submas fans are new to Pokemon…so are maybe not used to gamefreak being huge disappointments yet. 😩 in my experience, they tend to drop lore or plot points and then ignore them for years.

I have no expectations for the sake of not getting my hopes up for nothing. ;-; though, it would be wonderful considering the themes. Even a subtle nod would make the submas tag trend on twitter without a doubt LOL

Wuahh…thank youuu…i love drawing… LOVE !!

EEEEE! I haven’t had the chance to draw up more big gay unovan family stuff yet, but Im glad its enjoyable to other gen 5 lovers. I do love imagining all region characters knowing each other in some way. 🥰 everyone has differing opinions on ingo and emmet but they can agree unanimously they are little weirdos.

;-;)9 its what im here for,,,

I have a whole comic script written for it…very emotional…verrrrryyyyy…gestures familyyyyy themed. But ah, we’ll see if I ever get to it!!! Sitting atop my pile of unfinished projects.

AAAAAAaah I super appreciate this!!! You’re so sweet!! Thank you!!

I hope I can keep making you smile.. its a very big motivator… ;w;

YEAAAA GOOD GOOD GOOD. THAT WAS THE INTENTION. THATS CRAZY THAT YOU CAN HEAR IT TOO LOL like obviously its near impossible to make sounds with comics, but I’m glad THAT part got to your brain HAHA!!

Fellow burgh lover i see you, I understand you, and i respect you.

Hahah, I haven’t really given it much thought, but I genuinely believe that three of them are some of the toughest trainers in Unova. I would say they got far enough to reach victory road. The twins’ talent speaks for themselves being battle facility bosses, but Elesa is nothing to sneeze at either. Since i like to HC them as childhood friends, it only feels fitting that Elesa was not only able to keep up with the twins, but probably bested them several times.

Maybe some daaaayyy….i love Adaman’s design (even if wayyy to many of the charcters are wayyy to pale eeergh)

Im always thinkin to myself i need to have comic ideas in order to draw certain characters. But I forget I can just … draw them……without giving them a reason to be. SO maybe someday haha! Im glad you like the way I drew him though lol!

It’s not so much that its canon (don’t believe much has been confirmed about them except they are clown inspired and have receding hairlines) but it’s apparent and obvious. I would dare say it’s not even debatable, but with these sort of headcanons, you have to consider that the people that feel strongly about it are more likely autistic themselves and therefore know more about the subject.

I recommend reading posts by @/1863-project! They go into detail about every detail and honestly it’s allowed me to learn a lot about how to write the characters!

https://1863-project.tumblr.com/post/676301481415262208/ingo-and-emmet-are-both-autistic-and-i-will-die-on

He’d eat his hat, I think.

Any kinda ugly, kinda clashing patterns... Turtle necks, or long coats. Outfits that are different, but still kinda match.

OH eelektross jacket…..

Anything that says transman swag…lmaooo

Im not very fashion forward myself, but I try to have fun with it. And when I draw them, i have unspoken hc for when they dressed themselves or when Elesa had an opinion.

I did draw them doin the based ball once…

But honestly, I don’t particularly think any of them is huge on sports apart from maybe getting excited by extension.

Unless of courss battling considered a sport?

Personally. I don’t think either of them gets mad often. Frustrated, annoyed, and cranky maybe…but all the way angry?

Kind of interesting to think about. I’m unsure if I’d describe it as scary. More so intimidating because it’s so rare to witness!

I’m reminded of how passively Ingo handled Melli’s fuckery…his customer service voice fell back in time with him. It can be attributed to his politeness, but it certainly takes a great level of patience. So yeah, honestly, I think Ingo would never allow anyone to see him completely angry. Similarly for Emmet, even though he does tend to be more expressive.

As of today, my commissions are currently closed!! But i welcome all inquiries!

It feels nice and warm… ;-;

Ah…………that description is so sweet…….thank you!!

Sadly i did picture that twilight scene with edward and bella JNFNDN BUT THE SENTIMENT STILL STANDS.

Tis a very very cute thought!! She’ll adopt some of their train themed phrases..since some of them are technically puns. Heehee..

Indeed. 🐷

THANK YOUUU!!!! AAAAAAA!! Thank you so so much!! Sometimes i worry more about the writing than the art itself, so it means a lot!!

#ask the pig #anon #LOTS OF ANONS

[transhawks]

How much do you think Hori intended the HSPC to be like, part of the main plot of the manga? Bc looking overall they're really only featured in Hawks' arc and some of the school stuff where they're just a bit of a shifty govt agency.

And sometimes I think the fandoms disappointment with their involvement is they made them out to be much bigger than Hori intended (understandably bc evil govt org is pretty compelling), like you can tell some ppl wanted then to be straight up antagonists but we don't even have named characters for them except Mera who's comic relief.

Idk I'm rambling but like it feels like they're just meant to be a bit of worldbuilding and not like, players and ppl got let down by that.

I'm mixed on this. I think Horikoshi wants a bigger role for the HPSC but realized he can't really steer the manga in that direction. He's mentioned he wants to make a Lady Nagant prequel. Again, it's the issue with him making a big cast of kids and kids in the first place. There's less ways for the kids to get involved. Personally, I like what we have so far and I wish we had more, but I think I'm alright at the moment with them being a very specific focus because if we had actually a Deku who was proactive and not reactive, then the HPSC might have come into greater focus. Like to shift more time to the HPSC would have made this a very different manga. Would I have liked it? Yes. But I've made my peace with BNHA being more about interpersonal relationships rather that societal struggles so letting go of big HPSC things is pretty easy. The people you're mentioning are people who haven't made peace with that, simply put. Gonna cross my fingers for the Nagant side manga tho!

#asks #hpsc #bnha