#a breakup has lead me places I wouldn’t even go with a gun

[clickbaitcowboy]

Dear Diary, what a day it’s been.

Been playing a lot of Far Harbor lately!

[daggerzine]

San Fermin- Arms (Better Company Records)

San Fermin- Arms (Better Company Records)

Ellis Ludwig-Leone’s band San Fermin is back with their fifth album. Nine songs filled with heartbreak from not one, but two breakups Ellis experienced. The emotions truly rise up on this album through the music and the lyrics sung by alternating vocalists Allen Tate and Claire Wellin. The first track, “Weird Environment,” has a rockin’ guitar melody resembling New Order in parts. Allen sings the most toe-tapping song on the album filled with those heartfelt lyrics I mentioned. “Burned my life down to the ground. Emptied out the Hungry Ghost. Wrote a sad song to get it out. If it helped, I didn’t notice.” The song builds to a punch later with driving instrumentation. Here’s the video:

  Next up, “Didn’t Want You To,” Claire steps in to sing with a subtle twang, “I’ll find my way; Out of this place soon; If you didn’t want me, I didn’t want you to.” A beauty of a song complete with added horns. You can watch the video here: 

Track 3, “Can't Unsee It,” brings Allen back on vocals with a gorgeous song that kind of reminds me of Lord Huron or The National for some reason. Love the horns on this one as well. Next is the title track, “Arms,” a bouncy piano ballad where Allen’s vocals shine here. A beautiful guitar solo adds to its lyrics. “Oh, I’m falling for you so madly; As soon as I leave, I just want to come back; And I know this is going to end badly; Cuz it feels like you are the one thing that I have; And who am I to hold you when you have arms for the whole world?”  Here’s the video:

  Track 5, “Makes Me Want You,” Claire takes over with multiple layers of her vocal tracks. Along with gorgeous piano and trumpet, this “makes me want (the song) more.” Claire is also lead vocals on the next track, “My Love Is A Loneliness.” The third single off of the album is one you’re sure to sing along with in no time. I know I have. More multiple-layered vocals that will move any listener to tears. Powerful imagery also in the lyrics: “If everyone leaves and everyone dies; It’s just a question of when; If everyone cheats and everyone lies; Rather it me than them; If the worst should happen; And it will, and will again; I will still be standing; With loneliness, my friend; To start again.” The video can be seen here:

 Next up, “Useful Lies,” is a beautiful, soft acoustic guitar melody sung by Allen. And then wait for it, here come the strings, the harmonies, and the horns that make this song truly soar! Track 8, “Wasting on Me,” Allen and Claire’s harmonies really blend here on this more upbeat song. The beauty of the boy/girl vocals really makes this one stand out. “Never meant to lead you down a road of sadness. But we’ve arrived where there’s nothing to be done. Could pretend there was a moment when we lost it. But we were running different races from the gun.” The album ends with “You Owe Me.” It’s back to Claire on lead vocals with a soft, sad piano-driven melody. In comes the brass that really helps capture the mood. Emotional heartbreak here with, “And I had to get my stuff out of your parents’ place. Your father wouldn’t even meet me in my eye.” The album was recorded at Better Company Studios in Brooklyn by none other than Allen Tate, the male vocalist. A national tour begins in the middle of March(see below). The last time I saw San Fermin was ten years ago at FRZN FEST in Madison. You don’t want to miss this album performed live; I know I won’t. ERIC EGGLESON

https://www.sanferminband.com/

(photo credit Alex S K Brown)

Tour Dates:

3/15: Utrecht, NDL - Birds of Paradise Festival

3/21-22: Boise, ID - Treefort Music Fest

3/23: Salt Lake City, UT - The State Room

3/24: Denver, CO - Globe Hall

3/26: St. Paul, MN - Turf Club

3/27: Chicago, IL - Lincoln Hall

3/28: Madison, WI - High Noon Saloon

3/30: Nashville, TN - The Blue Room

3/31: Columbus, OH - The Basement

4/2: Washington, DC - Atlantis

4/3: Philadelphia, PA - Underground Arts

4/4: Boston, MA - The Sinclair

4/5: New York, NY - Racket

4/30: San Diego, CA - Casbah

5/1: Los Angeles, CA - Masonic Lodge at Hollywood Forever

5/3: Pioneertown, CA - Pappy + Harriet’s

5/4: San Francisco, CA - Independent

5/7: Portland, OR - Doug Fir Lounge

5/9: Vancouver, BC - Biltmore Cabaret

5/10: Seattle, WA - Madame Lou’s

[ateezmakemeweep]

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line? 

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance. 

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt. 

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months. 

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did. 

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying. 

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify. 

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze. 

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid. 

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.” 

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day. 

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand. 

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake. 

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.” 

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter. 

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass. 

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading -  you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust). 

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something. 

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party. 

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him. 

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face. 

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode. 

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow. 

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face. 

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately. 

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.” 

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized. 

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants. 

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight. 

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses. 

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks. 

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely. 

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you. 

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match. 

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him. 

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been,  no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish. 

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got. 

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was. 

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier. 

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?” 

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house. 

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house. 

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different. 

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you. 

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit. 

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them. 

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast. 

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly. 

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen. 

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully. 

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile. 

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away. 

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop. 

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better. 

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever. 

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?” 

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight. 

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him. 

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth. 

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave. 

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly. 

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?” 

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty. 

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back. 

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months. 

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder. 

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong. 

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth. 

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly. 

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air. 

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away. 

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet. 

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while. 

“we’re not friends with her anymore.” 

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen. 

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains. 

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you. 

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch. 

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you. 

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend. 

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap. 

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine. 

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real. 

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head. 

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it. 

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed. 

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice. 

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie. 

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful. 

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face. 

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it. 

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief. 

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much. 

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction. 

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes. 

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof. 

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute. 

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek. 

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him. 

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks. 

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you. 

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway. 

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute. 

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath. 

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.” 

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist. 

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning. 

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him. 

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still. 

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home. 

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head. 

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.” 

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head. 

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too 

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse. 

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.  

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before. 

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged. 

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly. 

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?” 

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you. 

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle. 

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question. 

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true. 

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!” 

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other. 

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully. 

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that. 

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer. 

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him. 

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat. 

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment. 

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind. 

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up. 

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off. 

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar. 

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there. 

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands. 

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way. 

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy. 

“how’re you doing tonight?” 

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state. 

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you. 

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?” 

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face. 

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream. 

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together. 

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t. 

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.” 

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him. 

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both. 

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that. 

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you. 

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold. 

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?” 

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit. 

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out. 

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck. 

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face. 

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode. 

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?” 

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other  rests next to your head on the cool metal. 

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze. 

“you okay?” 

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time. 

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from. 

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is. 

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him. 

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you. 

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there. 

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow. 

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need. 

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you. 

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic. 

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months. 

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself. 

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.” 

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion. 

“it wasn’t right. what i did.” 

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed. 

especially not after seeing him again. 

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know.   i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities. 

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don��t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face. 

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall. 

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words. 

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you. 

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments. 

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with. 

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished. 

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you. 

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now. 

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you. 

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.” 

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it. 

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it. 

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to. 

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest. 

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.” 

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you. 

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore. 

“i don’t...i want...i...” 

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet. 

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again. 

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now. 

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him. 

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles. 

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole. 

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch. 

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush. 

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?” 

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders. 

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?” 

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face. 

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat. 

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.” 

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward. 

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.” 

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him. 

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze. 

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said. 

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body. 

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road. 

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual. 

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy. 

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours. 

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?” 

“i-” 

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you. 

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard. 

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again. 

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression. 

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening. 

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again. 

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when. 

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that. 

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months. 

he just doesn’t know that at the time. 

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung. 

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his. 

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed. 

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about. 

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club. 

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you. 

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down. 

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay. 

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore. 

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty. 

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore. 

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning. 

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way. 

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand. 

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely. 

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?” 

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head. 

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.” 

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him. 

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off. 

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest. 

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer. 

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough. 

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again. 

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger. 

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name. 

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly. 

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs. 

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning. 

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him. 

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again. 

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up. 

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year. 

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie. 

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you. 

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light. 

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?” 

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out. 

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?” 

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one. 

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway. 

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface. 

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay. 

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it. 

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier. 

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time. 

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat. 

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully. 

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.” 

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down. 

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with. 

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?” 

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?” 

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even. 

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase. 

“i....” 

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you. 

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head. 

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.” 

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago. 

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel. 

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks. 

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six. 

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door. 

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments. 

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed. 

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face. 

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?” 

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?” 

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you. 

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?” 

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.” 

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside. 

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?” 

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth. 

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side. 

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?” 

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours. 

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new. 

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?” 

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure. 

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again. 

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast. 

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again. 

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch. 

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face. 

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap  again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back. 

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion. 

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on. 

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair. 

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck. 

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass. 

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again. 

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt. 

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass. 

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point. 

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now. 

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes. 

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you. 

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock. 

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch. 

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you  both moan out at the same time. 

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips. 

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?” 

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit. 

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests. 

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal. 

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate. 

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex. 

and that hasn’t seemed to change. 

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch. 

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand. 

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing. 

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember. 

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over. 

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears. 

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year. 

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that. 

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone. 

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?” 

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and   it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here. 

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes. 

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before. 

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house. 

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything. 

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier. 

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?” 

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically. 

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.” 

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness. 

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...” 

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in. 

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet. 

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[bytemycupcakes]

Breakup

A couple bits of Mavrik dealing with his and Charlie’s breakup, leading to some subtle fatherly (and Lucifer maybe?) bonding.

Words: 1574

(Thanks again to@/voneldrich for letting me use their name for the Von Eldrich father! Saved me so much pain TTvTT)

~~

Mavrik takes a bit longer getting home than he usually does. It’s no surprise for him of course- He doesn’t want to see anyone. He can’t believe what he just did. How could he ever- He was raised better. He’s supposed to be better than that. That- Those things he did… That’s Helsa’s thing, she’s the one who attacks anyone and everyone. Not him. He thought so anyway, maybe things are changing, what’s next? Helsa sharing her feelings?

He’s barely holding back his tears, and can barely see through the ones managing to escape. He can feel blood leaking across his knuckles- Did he really punch those kids that hard? He’s not sure, he barely remembers it depite it happening just an hour ago. 

Mavrik stumbles up the stairs and fumbles with opening the front door. As the door opens he’s met with his father- Right, he and Lucifer had a meeting tonight. Mavrik stares like a deer in headlights as Styx looks him over. Of course it’s pretty hard to miss how terrible Mavrik looks right now, so his father asks the dreaded question, “Mavrik- Son are you alright..?”

Mavrik tries to hold himself together, he’s almost an adult, he shouldn’t be breaking down at the slightest bit of concern. But god damn he just lost the source of his happiness- He sniffles and weakly shakes his head as he plants himself against his father’s shoulder, letting the tears finally fall. Styx sighs and quietly puts his arms around Mavrik, “It’s alright… Come- let’s sit down-”

Styx leads Mavrik to the couch and they sit. He wants to ask Mavrik why he’s so upset, but ultimately decides to wait until Mavrik calms down. They sit in silence for a bit, when he seems to remember something- He pulls out his phone and dials. Mavrik can hear the phone ring, so he tries to quiet himself.

“Ah- I was just about to call you-” Lucifer’s voice sounds through the phone speaker.

“Yes hello Lucifer- I… Think we may need to cancel our plans… Mavrik’s um-” Styx looks down at Mavrik, patting his head.

“Yyeeeesss… Charlotte’s quite-” Theres a loud crash through the speaker, “Angry… We’ll need to reschedule…”

“Indeed…” He hums and hangs up, setting the phone down.

“I-I’m sorry-” Mavrik mumbles between his sobs.

“I take it you and Charlotte must’ve broken up today..?”

Mavrik nods. His father tightens his hold on him, “Those can be tough, but you’ll be alright… In time.”

Mavrik shrugs like he doesn’t believe him, “I-” He sniffles, “I don’t think so, dad-” He wipes his tears the best he can, “I… It’s all my fault- Im so- stupid-”

Styx frowns, “Oh come now, Mavrik- Don’t talk about yourself like that… Your first relationship going sour is a common occurance, no need to beat yourself up about it.”

“But I-!” Mavrik cuts himself off- He doesn’t want to say it outloud, then it’ll be real- He huffs and gets up, “I’m- I’m gonna call it an early night… Thanks for- All of that, dad-”

He smiles, “You know I’ll always be here for you, Mavrik. Sleep well, son”

–

Mavrik is laying in bed, he doubts he got any sleep- He isn’t sure when he last slept honestly… Even though he hasn’t left his room in a week or so. Every time he tries he remembers what happened- He swears he can still… Feel her in his hand- Picture how angry she was with him- Why won’t the images leave his head? Why can’t he just forget it! Wouldn’t he be better off that way?

He pulls his pillow closer to his chest and huffs when he hears footsteps outside of his room. Mavrik isn’t really sure what time it is- But he’s sure that nobody should actually be home.

The footsteps stop, and there’s a small sigh, “How’s he doing?” Oh- It’s Lucifer.

“Better I’d assume… He stopped crying at least- He should still be sleeping if you’d like to check on him.” And his father- Mavrik wonders why they’re here- Rather than the Mange’s home where they usually work.

Mavrik quietly huffs, turning his head to the door in case Lucifer decides to come in.

“No, no.. I’ll let the boy be…”

The footsteps begin again, heading toward his father’s office. The voices pregressively get quieter.

“Hows Charlotte been?”

“Finally stopped tearing up her room-” Lucifer sighs, “Still no idea on what happened?”

“No- He won’t tell us… Just says it’s his fault-”

“Charlotte won’t say anything about it either- Did we mess up somewhere, Styx? To make them not trust us with this…?”

Their voices are to faded for Mavrik to hear his father’s responce- But he’ll conceide… Lucifer’s question makes him feel bad. Why hasn’t he told his parent’s what he did? They’re his parents- They’ll help him through this, wouldn’t they? But there’s another question on Mavrik’s mind, “… W̨̨͘͢͏h̵̛͘̕y͢ ̡d͏oes Lucifer even care how I’m doing…?”

His face scrunches up at how pathetic he sounds. He’s almost forgotten that he hasn’t talked in a few days. He hums into his pillow, he should probably get up- Doesn’t need his legs to atrophy… He will later.

–

A few hours pass- Long enough that Mavrik hopes he’s finally the only one home. He rolls off his bed- Litterally, he rolls off the mattress and thuds against the floor, “O͘w̶̨҉”

He clears his throat then groans as he forces himself to sit up. He stares at the floor for a bit, “C’mon Mav- You can get up, damnit. Can’t stay in here forever.” He slaps a hand on his bed, managing to push himself to his feet, “Life goes on… You gotta go with it-”

Mavrik has decided he’s going to fake it ‘til he makes it, so he does his best to push down his bad feelings and get dressed. He isn’t going anywhere, but looking like a presentable person usually helps one get out of depressive funks. He runs his hands through his- honestly disgusting- hair to attempt to tame it and glances at the sunlight peeking through his curtains, “I haven’t been outside in awhile, huh?” He squints at his now greasy feeling hands for a moment then back to the curtain, “It looks nice out- A walk out back wouldn’t kill me.”

The day is indeed nice, Mavrik strolls through the family garden with a subtle smile. He used to do this quite often when he was younger, he doesn’t remember why he ever stopped. The garden’s always been a nice quiet place to just think, and that’s exactly what Mavrik needs to do. He stops by one of the flowering bushes and cups one of the flowers. A petal has clearly been eaten a bit, but the flower appears to be fine, just a small scar in it’s life, it can move on and keep living.

Some tears start to bead up when Mavrik hears some distant speaking- Damn, He isn’t the only one home apparently. He figures he should show- whoever it is- that he’s finally “functioning” again, so he goes toward the voices source. He’ll admit, he isn’t too surprised when it turns out to be his father and Lucifer, though he thought they would’ve gone back to work by now.

“I just can’t figure out why Charlotte won’t be honest with me- She know’s I want to help- To see her happy-”

Mavrik grumbles to himself as he hears Lucifer- Of course they’re talking about Charlie, he and her have been the talk of their families since they broke up. He walks up beside the two parents, oh great he’s doing it, “I… May have an idea-” Mavrik leans forward as he pokes into their conversation.

They both look to him, surprised for a moment then they both smile.

“Mavrik my boy! It’s lovely to see you!” Lucifer sounds far to happy for Mavrik to really believe him.

Though he bows slightly anyway- it’s only polite, “Likewise, sir- I apologise that you must see me like this-” Sure he’s dressed, but he still looks awful.

Styx chuckles, waving a hand, “Nonsense, Mavrik. Lucifer’s seen you in diapers, seeing you distraught is no different.”

“… I suppose-” Mavrik shrugs, his father is right, sure, though he still doesn’t feel like he looks presentable.

Styx stands and goes to Mavrik, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It’s nice to finally see you out of bed, son… I’ve been getting worried”

“I’ll- Be fine, dad…” Mavrik shrugs once again, “Promise-” He tries to ignore how much that feels like a lie, he’s worried his family enough.

Lucifer gets up aswell, “Well- You’re not the only one struggling here, Charlotte’s taking it hard aswell. Though it isnt-” Lucifer cuts himself off for a moment, “Er- As… Physically obvious as your struggles-”

Styx rolls his eyes and sighs while pushing Lucifer away, “He’s- right but- Ignore him, Mavrik, you know Lucifer has no filter.”

“Yeah I’m startin’ to think you don’t either, dad-” Mavrik laughs slightly, “I’m- Gonna go take a shower- Before I start looking like one of those… Gaming losers- Who don’t know what deodorant is-” He awkwardly finger-guns at Styx and Lucifer as he backs away.

As Mavrik heads back to the house, the sound of Styx slapping Lucifer on the back of the head echoes through the garden- Mavrik snorts, but tries to hold in his laughter, pretending he couldn’t hear it.

[straightouttaneptune]

Best Friends - Part 2

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Reader

Warning: Carnid breakup which I didn’t want to do because Carl and Enid both deserves happiness, FLUFF ENDING

A/N: OKAY GUYS I DECIDED I’LL WRITE A PT.2!!! Thank you for those of you who commented and took their time to like/reblog this story!!<3

Part 1

—————————————————————

“Hey, come on. Let’s just stay inside the wall.” Carl called out to a girl on the move, her leg already hooked onto the other side of the fence.

“You can. I want to go.” Enid stared down at her boyfriend, her full body already on the other side now.

Carl could only watch as the tip of her head sunk down in the steel walls. Their relationship began to strain after the whole incident with you coming to rescue the two.

“Y/N’s not always going to be around to help you, you know?” He called out one last time, before turning back and heading straight towards the clock tower.

“I can defend myself too, thank you very much. But it’s always about Y/N, isn’t it?” Enid mumbled to herself, kicking dirt over as she flees the compound.

Carl watched the scenery of Alexandria, passing by houses and trees, all free of walkers and full of life. He understood Enid’s need to head outside once in a while, but he also understood now that people can stay strong even inside the walls. Thanks to you.

His boots clanked against the metal staircase, breath getting slightly shallow as he kept on climbing up numbers of steps.

When he finally reached the top, the first thing he saw was you with your back facing him, sniper rifle loaded and finger steady on the trigger.

From what he’s figured out so far, is that Enid and you are simply two very different people. While Enid might have ran the other direction at the sight of walkers surrounding a person, you wouldn’t hesitate to step in.

He admired that.

Your bravery, toughness and caring nature.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” His neck whipped at you as soon as you made the comment.

“How’d you know I was here?” He climbed up to the small room, sitting down next to you with his back against the wall.

“You damned boots make a lot of noise.” You take your eyes off the scope, turning to him with a small smirk.

“Oh yeah. Stupid question.” He looked down at the sheets and blankets scattered on the ground, his face turning serious. “Did you spend the night here?”

“No, I made a bed for myself just so I could not sleep in it.” You glanced over Alexandria for a quick sweep before taking your eyes off of it again. “Yes. I did.”

“You need to rest.” He simply states, gently taking the rifle away from you and setting them down on the floor.

You don’t even have the strength to fight him, it really has been a while since you slept well.

“Come on.” He took your hand, re-lighting something up inside you that you tried so hard to extinguish before.

He leads you down the stairway, all while still holding your hand. Even when the two of you gets out of the tower, he continues to hold your hand while walking down the street to the group’s shared house. You could sense a couple stares, something called primal gaze detection. But you were way too focused on his hand wrapping around yours to care about them.

Once in the house, you were going to head straight for your room, but Carl pulls your hand back and takes you to the room next to it.

Carl’s.

“Why’re we going to your room?” You question him with a drained tone.

He looks back at you with a smile, “you never let me take care of you.” Your heart leaped for a second before you rationally calmed yourself down.

He’s your best friend.

“And to make sure you don’t go anywhere.” He added playfully, releasing your hand once the two of you were inside his room.

You’d come here many times before, but it felt different. You couldn’t really place your finger on it, though. You started getting a little dizzy, probably from the lack of sleep.

“I’ll bring you some water. Stay here.” He pointed at his bed, and you gladly laid on it. Not thinking very clearly.

If you hadn’t been sleep deprived, your mind would have pushed through your heart, making you stand up and make a beeline to the clock tower again.

But right at this moment, his bed felt comfortable, and that was enough for you.

Carl opened the door with a glass of water to see you already deep in sleep, and a smile crept up his face from the sight. He set the water down on the table and pulled the covers over you. You mumbled incoherent words at him, making him chuckle. It was rare for him to see you like this.

He gazed at you sleeping for a good 10 minutes, before realizing that is was kind of creepy and remembering that he had a girlfriend.

“Carl!” Michonne suddenly opened the door, knocking Carl backward with a thud.

He glanced at you, unbothered by the noise and still asleep. Relieved, he stood up and pushed Michonne out of the room. He slowly shut the door behind him and brought Michonne downstairs.

“She could’ve woken up. A knock would’ve been nice.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I was just about to tell you that Enid was looking for you.” Carl started walking to the door, Michonne watching how he didn’t immediately rush to the door as he would if someone said that you were looking for him.

“Hey, can you tell Y/N that I headed out for a minute if she wakes up?” Carl traces his steps back to the kitchen, pointing at the second floor.

“I will.” She reassured him with a grin on her face.

Michonne rests her elbows on the kitchen counter as she watched Carl head out the door.

“Judith, help those kids.” She mumbled to the little baby struggling to get around the house, picking her up and setting Judith in her arms.

—

Carl followed the white strips on the road as he looked around for Enid, both his hands deep in his pockets.

He kept going around in circles, and no signs of Enid anywhere. He started to grow skeptical of Michonne possibly lying. But why would she?

As he was on his 3rd round going around Alexandria, a girl who can only be Enid flashed across the corner of his eyes.

He quickly spun himself on the heel of his boot to call out to her, when he froze in place.

Enid was with someone, behind a couple trees and bushes. She didn’t seem to notice that Carl was here.

Carl stalked over to the bushes to take a better look at why she was behind a damn bush.

He froze in place as soon as he saw a scene play out in front of him. It was as if it was planned, directed, timed just so Carl could watch this with his own eyes.

There sat Enid and Ron in the grass, lips pressed against each other. They both looked... happy. Nothing forced or uncomfortable about it. That spoke for itself.

Carl should’ve wanted to dive inside the bushes and pull his gun on Ron, but he took it a lot more rationally than he would’ve thought.

He rose from his crouching stance, catching the attention of the two and simply spitting out the words of “we’re done.” Before calmly walking away.

His ears caught faint calls of “Carl, Wait! It’s not what you think!” And whatnot, but all he really wanted to do was return home.

To you.

When he opened his doors again, you were still in your deep sleep, cradling the blankets as if to make up for the empty space beside you.

But your face was angelic, lips creating a small pout and your lashes falling over your under-eyes. Your features were soft and relaxed, completely absorbed by the safety of the bed.

He remembered what it was like, having this big crush on you back at the prison. He knew how you felt about relationships, though. He’d never want to push you into an uncomfortable position. He wanted to laugh at how happier he was liking you and not getting a single flirty line from you than dating Enid.

He glanced down at you, weakly smiling and blurting out; “I wish I told you back at the prison.” Maybe he could’ve had an unexpected answer, or if he didn’t, at least he could’ve gotten over you with closure.

No, he wouldn’t be able to.

The concept of soulmates didn’t seem all that mystical to him anymore. No matter how many other girls he meets in his life, none of them are going to be you. And no matter what happens between you two, he knows you’ll always be the owner of his heart.

“Told me what?” You softly spoke up, voice slightly groggy from the dry air in the room.

Carl looked over at you, face red and possibly steaming. You let out a faint chuckle at the sight.

“That- you know what you always say about relationships?”

“No, don’t beat around the bush.” That phrase flicked on a switch in his mind, reminding him that it’s now or never.

“I like you, Y/N. I probably even love you. I’ve known since we were there back in the prison.” Carl sunk down on his knees, his head buried in his hands.

You felt immediately awake, your heart beating rapidly against your rib cage.

You sat up in the bed, placing your hand on one of Carl’s hands and leading him on his bed.

He climbed in silently, still terrified of your response.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to say that.” You had a little twinkle in your eyes, something Carl noticed whenever you were happy or excited.

His eyes watered in surprise and relief. You felt caught off guard by how your lips just formed syllables on its own, extracting its words from your heart.

Your heart was bursting. Carl, who you had this uncontainable crush on since the start, was confessing his love to you. And you just confirmed that you return his love.

Carl gently placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you. A kiss with emotions and feelings that couldn’t be formed into words. Something so rare in the apocalyptic world, but it was what made it so pure and precious.

—

Carl, later on, explained how he broke things off with Enid, and how she actually looks happier with Ron. And you could see it too.

Rick surprisingly won the bet on who was going to make the move first. Michonne was SO sure it was going to be you.

As far as you and Carl’s relationship could go, it was going amazingly. The two of you would kick ass together, care for each other and became an essential part of each other’s lives. Everyone in the group knew the two of you were bound to end up together. Maybe there really is someone scripting your life. Because that’s how perfect it was.

—

“That was horrifying.” Glenn panted behind the getaway car. Carl laid on the asphalt, catching a breather after taking on the jewelry store filled with walkers. “You must be really serious about this, man.”

“Yeah. She’s kind of the love of my life.” Carl smiled and breathed out, flashing a gorgeous diamond-encrusted ring in the sunlight.

[anxiety-n-chill]

Draft of My Ohmtoonz Fanfic

Chapter Warnings:

Homophobia, Cursing, Mention of shooting and guns and death, Mental Breakdown, Crying, Abuse, Anxiety, Insecurities.

____________________________________

    Sickness was not always physical. For example, depression.

I had always been a happy person, or at least I tried my best, but recently it's become impossible to even fake it. I know it's just petty internet shit, we all deal with haters, but it's not the same. These people seem to know me, know my weaknesses.

'Your shit sucks, Luke. Fucking quit already'.

'Faggot!'

'You and Ohmwrecker god fucking queers'.

'Your father must fucking be so disappointed'.

'Should've been aborted'.

Positive people, true fans, protected me in the replies, but it didn't help. These just struck me. It's like they knew...knew about my secrets.

My laptop interrupted my thoughts with the familiar ring of a Skype call. I debated on ignoring it, but keeping myself in this depressing slump would just make things worse. I scooted my chair away from my setup and grabbed the laptop off my bed. I briefly smiled and the little collage of bunny stickers.

Opening up, I see the call was from the one and only Ohmwrecker. With a breathy chuckle, I answer.

"Good day, Ohmie," I greet. As usual, Ohm had his camera turned off, and I returned it with my own camera off.

"Toonzy! How's you?" Ryan's little giggle sends another smile on my face.

"Good..." I swallow as the hate comments return in my mind. Ryan catches this somehow; he's one of my best friends, of course he would.

Ryan gets serious. "Don't lie to me, Luke. What's up, man?"

I sigh and admit I had read the hate comments on my recent video. This isn't the first time I've put myself through torment like this, and Ryan had comforted me then too.

"Oh, Luke," Ryan says quietly, "We talked about this. Maybe it's best to turn off the comments on videos if they're getting bad like that."

"It would raise questions from fans," I answer, "And I can't ignore the true fans. I just...I just wish I was so damn sensitive."

"You're not sensitive, Luke," Ryan comforts, "Maybe go over to Del's house for a bit. He'd certainly get your mind off things."

I debate this for a minute. It wouldn't be a bad idea, and I haven't hung out with Jon in a while.

"Yeah I think I will," I say, "I'll text him now. I'll call you later, maybe we can record? Oh, also, thanks for the bunny stickers."

I hear Ryan give another laugh.

"Of course, Toonzy. See ya."

"Love ya, man."

And with that, I end the call. I place the laptop back onto my bed and return to my setup. Grabbing my phone, I send a quick text to Jon.

'yo u open to hang?'

I doubted he would be awake at 2pm, but it was worth a shot. To my surprise, my phone dinged soon after I laid it down.

'helllll yeah! just cum ovr whenevr man'

'k, ill get there in about an hour'

'cool beans'

I lay my phone back down and look at my desktop. The comments were still open on the screen.

'Faggot'.

'Queer'.

'Burn in hell, gay bitch'.

I close the tab with a sharp inhale. Ryan is right, looking at these won't help. I need to get out.

Before I change my mind, I go get a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. Freshening up and splashing some water on my face calms me down a bit. I slide on my boots and grab my phone, then my keys.

I head out of my house, making sure to lock my door behind me. As I walk to the driver's side of my car, I reach over my hood to swat away the neighborhood stray cat off. It gives me a disapproving look and runs away into the hole of my neighbor's fence.

As soon as my car starts, a song softly starts to play though the speakers.

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you."

That's depressing, too depression for me. I click the station off and connect it to Bluetooth, quickly restarting a podcast I had began last week.

Nothing interesting broke me from my depressing and lonely thoughts on the way over to Jon's. I guess the universe wants me to suffer.

The ride wasn't as long as I expected, guess I zoned out. Turning off my phone and car, I exit and make my way up to Jon's front door.

The doorbell was able to be faintly heard outside, though it was drowned out by the sound of pounding footsteps.

Jon opens the door wide and stands there with a big smile. "CARTOONZ," he laughs loudly.

Jon, surprisingly, was a lot taller than me, even taller than Bryce. He had black hair than stayed in a short buzz, and he has a bit of a stumble on his chin. His skin was very pale, and his eyes were a dark gray. Jon is a lanky fellow, but don't doubt his strength. He's a stubborn bitch.

"Hey, man," I chuckle and give him a quick hug. He closes the door behind me and leads me into his kitchen.

"Coke?" I nod and he tosses a Pepsi to me and grabs a 7up for himself. I silently disagree with his choice, but hey, he's a hater of Pepsi and is kink enough to keep some in his fridge for me.

"So what's good," he asks as he leaps up onto his counter to sit. I lean against on the counter beside him.

"Um..." I know I should talk to him about it, but Jon is like my little brother. I shouldn't put this all on him.

  "Ey man," Jon says more seriously, "What's wrong, Luke."

  I give him the same story as Ryan. My heart feels heavy again.

  Jon's knuckles are white at the edge of the countertop. "Fucking assholes. Wish I could teach em a lesson," he growls.

  "Jon, they're probably kids.." I say. Jon nods but is still tense.

  "I don't want anything to happen to you, Luke," he says quietly, "Not after high school."

  I gulp. I dated Jon's sister, Lucille, in high school, and me and Jon got close. Though her and I aren't together now, him and I still see each other as family. I grew up with depression, and Jon was there along with Lucille. They saw the worst of me.

  "I'm not a teen anymore," I mumble, "I should be able to handle this."

  "You aren't expect to handle shit! Lil fuckfaces shoulda grow up!" he says sternly. I smile a bit at his frustrated face.

  "I know, Jonny," I sigh, "but hey, they're not wrong..."

  Jon snorts, "They are. Bein' bi don't make you uh-uh fag!"

  I came out to Jon a bit after I left Lucille. It wasn't a rough breakup, even after dating for 8 years. We both knew it just wasn't for us as adults, more like a teen fling. Anyway, coming out to Jon was rough. He was accepting, and even told me he was gay. We cried together in our shared apartment. Afterwards, we drank cheep beer and played Mario cart.

  I give a little chuckle and Jon belts out a loud laugh. This is why this dumbfuck was my best friend. He can never fail to make me laugh.

"Hey, so me and Ohm wanna record t'night," I say after we calm down, "You up for some?" I see Jon dart his eyes for a second and bite the inside of his mouth. Fuck, what did this boy do now.

"Uh well I gots plans," he says awkwardly, "I promise Ev-Vanoss...that I'd play GTA." That's nothing unusual, so why is he all flustered?

"What's up, though? You're gettin all red," I ask with concern. Jon takes a chug from his 7up and swallows slowly to waste time.

"Uh...Vanoss wants to meet up."

"Oh shit," I gasp. Jon hasn't met the others- in person at least. Meaning they haven't seen his face. None of them know why he don't show his face expect me.

Bullies fucking suck.

"So...are you gonna?" I ask after a pause. Jon gulps and shrugs.

"I wanna...b-but ya know man," he sighs, "What if it gets online, or he expect something else."

I've heard this from Jon many times whenever he brings up fans wanting a face reveal. But this is different. This is his best friend Evan asking.

"Don't if you don't wanna 100%," I say, "I'll go with you if that'ul help." Jon nods and finishes his drink.

"I'll think about it."

After a few hours of watching movies and playing games, I say bye and head home. As soon as I do, a text lights up my phone.

'you home, toonz?'

I quickly unlock my phone to answer Ryan.

'yeah am now wuzzup?'

'bryce wants to play duo with me on some new game, trynna see what game you got in mind'

'uno?'

'I'm up for it, maybe he can join and put off his game'

'cool with me'

I head to my bedroom after grabbing a slice of pizza from last nights dinner. I open up my desktop and go to tumblr just to waste time as Ryan tries to convince Bryce to play.

- - -

So this is the first chapter (draft) and I would like opinions! There’s another little part after this that switches to Del’s POV with Vanoss n shit but I’m pretty solid on that. Feel free to criticize :3

[jewishaxelwalker]

Driving Faster, Windows Down

It’s that Lyft driver AU I said I’d write back in 2017, finally finished after 10 months. Also available on AO3.

It was an abnormally slow Friday night.

Axel’d been driving around aimlessly for a while, patiently waiting to be pinged for a fare, but no one was biting. Keystone had a good public transit system, and its people were abnormally obsessed with cars, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t tourists out there that’d rather take a Lyft than a taxi. Maybe they just hadn’t made the switch from Uber yet. Like come on, read your Facebook sidebar sometime.

His phone made a noise, and Axel jumped. It was just Joey calling, so he put him on speaker.

“You’re on with Ron.” He deadpanned, and on the other end of the line, Joey snorted.

“Dead night?”

“I’d get more action in a graveyard, dude.”

Joey laughed out loud, and Axel pulled into a Shell station. No need to roll and waste when he wasn’t getting fares to fill his gas tank. He and Joey chatted for a bit about the usual junk; Axel’s online classes were inane, Joey’s brother was still bugging him about moving to Gotham so he could use him as a free babysitter (”Seriously dude, how the hell is your niece so cute? Jack is as pug-ugly as they come.”), Kesha’s Instagram feed, the Combines having yet another fantastically losing season-

And then his phone pinged with a ride request. Three blocks away. Single passenger, some shitty little motel not a mile from the airport.

“Gotta go, man. I think I’m about to be some flight attendant’s ride of triumph.” He hated the other term. Getting laid was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Oh, sweet. If she’s hot and heading to Gotham, I’ll be on the next flight.” Axel shook his head, switching the bluetooth back to his Google Play. Hitting on customers was how Joey’d gotten dismissed from his last two jobs. He loved his best friend, but thinking with his dick was gonna get Joey killed someday.

And failing to pay attention to who he was picking up was going to get Axel killed. He didn’t even glance at the passenger notification until he’d pulled into the motel parking lot. He was expecting a blonde Cindy or a brunette Sharona, not a redheaded Owen.

“Axel?” The guy asked as he climbed into the back seat, and Axel swallowed hard.

“The one and only.” Owen grinned, and there was a slight chance Axel gunned it a bit too hard on the way out of the parking lot.

Axel liked driving for Lyft because he got to meet a lot of new and interesting people he could subject to his musical taste. Yeah, some of his passengers were hotter than others, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be getting the Indie Girl Kitchen treatment.

“You got any preference, or can I just put on whatever?” He asked, flicking through his playlists as they waited at the light. Owen frowned.

“Maybe something chill? I’ve been stressing out of my mind for the last two hours, and I don’t want to look like a psycho when I get there.” Axel immediately flicked over to artists. Fuck the playlists, Owen was getting The Valley. Yeah it was a breakup album, but it was also the best thing he’d heard all year and it relaxed him like nothing else.

Owen sank back into his seat as the album started. Axel wondered if he should interrupt what was clearly going to be a pivotal moment in his life with small talk, but Owen beat him to it.

“Is it a slow night or something? You were there less than three minutes after I called for a ride.” Axel shrugged, glancing up at the rearview mirror. Owen was watching him intently.

“It’s always slow in this town but yeah, tonight was dead. Pretty much the only people that use Lyft are teenagers with no cars and tourists. Driving is a huge thing in Keystone.” His eyes wandered to the mirror again, but Owen was looking out the window now. “Where you from?” The accent had a northeastern touch to it, but Axel couldn’t quite place the state.

“Oh, uh, Gotham. But if tonight goes good, I’m probably gonna end up moving here.” Owen cut himself off by sticking his index finger in his mouth, chewing on the nail. “Hey, can I like, vent something? Taxicab Confessions style?” Axel nodded, not wanting to interrupt what was bound to be an excellent bit of wordvomit. “So uh, my foster mom died two weeks ago.”

“Holy shit man, I’m sorry-“ He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, berating himself. No more outbursts. “But go on.” Owen bit his lip, staring down at his hands.

“My foster mom died two weeks ago. I mean, I’m 23, I’ve been on my own for a few years now, but we still kept in touch. She raised me from when I was 8. She was my mom. I was in her will and everything. What she left me was, uh, well aside from some money and a few of her things, she left me the ability to find my dad. My biological dad. He’s been living in Keystone for like ten years now, and she tracked him down ages ago when she found out that he’d been looking for me. She told him that I was healthy and happy and not to fuck up my life by coming into it unless he meant to stay and raise me.” They were lucky for the traffic. Some Kinda Wonderful slid into You Can Cry Tomorrow, and Owen cleared his throat.

“I can turn this off, if it’s bothering you.” Axel offered, but Owen just shook his head.

“No, I like it. Anyway, I got in contact with him last week. He told me he’d book me a flight as soon as he could, because he’d been waiting years to meet me. Which leads to today. I told him not to pick me up at the airport, that I’d meet him for dinner somewhere, and I’m kinda freaking out? I don’t even know what he looks like. I mean, what if we look nothing alike, and he loses it because I look like the mom I’ve never met? What if we look a lot alike and it turns out I’m gonna age like shit? And those are just the petty, superficial fears!  Like, what if his family has a history of cancer or depression or erectile dysfunction or something?”

Axel started when he realized that Owen’s question didn’t seem to be rhetorical. 

“I think it might be a good idea to just breathe, Owen. Start with the simple stuff, like how you both probably loved Pacific Rim, then get down to the medical histories.” Owen was looking at him again, his mouth quirked in a crooked little grin. “What?”

“I totally loved Pacific Rim. I lost my shit when Cherno Alpha got taken down by Leatherback.” Axel could fall in love with this man. He could. Owen wasn’t protesting The Valley and remembered details about Pacific Rim. It didn’t hurt that he was hotter than the surface of Mercury.

He selfishly hoped that the traffic would keep up the glacial pace. It didn’t, of course, and they were at the restaurant less than a song later.

“I’m sure your dinner will go fine. And if it doesn’t, just call for a Lyft. I’m pretty sure I’m one of like six people driving tonight for the whole city, you can vent again.” Which wasn’t an exaggeration, Lyft just had not taken off in Keystone the way it had in places like Gateway City and Metropolis. Sometimes when he was strapped for cash, Axel crossed the bridge into Central and got fares there. They had a different center of industry, after all. Owen was smiling again, actually smiling, and it felt like his heart had crawled up into his throat.

“I’ll keep that in mind. And, thanks man. For the ride and. Yeah.” Owen reached out, snagging his hand and giving it a little squeeze. He left behind a $10 bill. “Hope I get you again sometime.”

After Owen left, Axel lurked in the area until after midnight. No pings ever came. It was disappointing, but it also meant that Owen and his father had peacefully reconnected, which was nice. He turned off his active status and drove home.

***

A few weeks passed and slowly, Axel began to forget about his handsome passenger. School let out for summer, which meant fares by the dozen. His grades came back eventually, and as he’d expected, he’d aced everything. Joey’s brother finally wore his best friend down.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually moving to Jersey.” He complained one night while they packed up Joey’s half of their apartment. Jack had paid Joey’s part of the rent for the next six months, more than enough time for Axel to find a new roommate, but still.

“Moving back to Jersey,” Joey reminded him. “And me neither. But Janice has had to travel a lot for work lately, and they don’t want Becky to be raised by some nanny.” 

“You better come back to visit.” Axel grumbled, shoving the contents of one of Joey’s drawers into a box a bit harder than necessary. “So I can show off how awesome my new roommate is.”

Joey went quiet, the clacking of DVD boxes coming to a slow halt. “You already found someone?” Axel sighed.

“Dude. I haven’t even put out an ad yet. I’ve got six months of walking around naked without someone yelling at me to get some damn pants on to savor, first.”

They laughed, and Joey pulled him into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, Ax. Now c’mon, my flight is in two days, and we’ve still gotta get all this shit to UPS.”

At least one upside to this moving business, Jack was footing the bill for everything. Which meant that Joey’s few boxes of possessions that wouldn’t fit into his plane luggage were making it to Gotham in style.

All too soon, it was time to make their way to the airport.

“Don’t let the new guy do anything weird to my room.” Joey said. “And you lay down the fuckin’ law in regards to all prog rock.”

“Yes to Yes, Rush can suck dicks in hell.” It had been literally the first thing Joey had said to him two years ago, when he’d shown up at their apartment, looking to rent the other room. “You call me when the plane lands, okay? Like, from the runway.” They hugged again, and Axel felt his spine pop a little when Joey lifted him off the ground.

As soon as Joey was through his gate, Axel turned his Lyft notifications back on. He was already at the airport, after all, and it wasn’t like Jack was throwing in money for groceries. Within seconds of making it to his car, the app pinged with a ride request. The name made him blink, a grin spreading out onto his face.

Owen M is requesting a ride.

He met Owen back at the same terminal he’d just left, taking note of the pair of huge canvas duffel bags. The dinner with his dad must have gone amazingly well.

“Axel!” Owen was all smiles when he hopped out of the car to help him with his bags. “Man, you really are the only Lyft driver in this city, huh?” Axel snorted.

“Nah, my roommate needed a ride. He’s moving back to Gotham, to be closer to his family.”

“What a coincidence, that’s exactly what I’m doing here.”

When they stood side by side to shove everything into the trunk, Axel noticed that he was a good foot shorter than Owen. Yowza. 

Don’t pull a Joey, you’re good at this driving shit.

As they left the airport and got onto the highway, Axel wondered what he should say. Should he ask about Owen’s flight? The route he was taking wasn’t leading to the motel, but to a residential area. He was probably going to be staying with his dad while he looked for an apartment. In the end, it was Owen who drew first blood.

“I looked up that album you were playing when I got back home, it was really killer." 

I need to call my mom, because I’ve met the man I’m going to marry.

“Yeah?” He said instead, feigning casual. “Which songs did you like best?”

“Wellll...the cover of that Donna Lewis song was somehow earworm-ier than the original, but Blue Heaven Midnight Crush definitely did the most for me. The rest of the songs were so sad, when you actually listened to the lyrics. But that one, it’s so hopeful. I like songs like that.” Giving random strangers mixtapes was weird, right? It was definitely weird, calm down. “Oh, so in case you couldn’t tell, I live here now. My dad is putting me up until I find a place of my own.”

Thank god, a change of subject.

“You shouldn’t have too much trouble, plenty of people out there are looking for roommates.” A glance in the rear view mirror showed that Owen was watching him intently. “What?”

“Didn’t you just ship your roommate off to Gotham?”

Bad idea bad idea bad idea.

“Yeah, well. You could probably find a better part of town to live in-” Owen grinned, and Axel’s hands gripped the wheel hard enough to dent it. “I don’t even need to put out an ad for a couple of months, his half is paid up for a while.”

Mercifully, they soon pulled up in front of an unassuming apartment building not ten blocks from his own. Owen caught his eye in the mirror again, then glanced away.

“Hey, maybe this is weird but, would you mind if I gave you my number? It could be cool to have a local to hang with that isn’t my dad.” As if on cue, a tall-ish, pudgy man with auburn hair rushed out of the building, practically ripping the driver-side rear door open.

“Owen! I got th’ day off after all! Did yeh flight get in early?” The man had an accent that was definitely not from around here.

“This is your local?” Axel asked, eyebrow raised, and Owen laughed.

“He’s lived here for like, a decade. He knows which Denny’s is the good Denny’s, and that’s all that matters.”

“No such thing as a good Denny’s.” Axel and Owen’s father said, practically in unison, and Axel groaned, head thunking to the steering wheel. I’ve been set up.

“Friend of yers, Owen?” The older man asked curiously, looking Axel up and down as he got out and popped the trunk. “Bit young, innit he?”

Axel huffed as he helped Owen drag out one of his insanely heavy duffels. “I’m 20. And what the fuck is in here man, a dead body?”

“Close, it’s the bones of the guy that took me to the airport back in Gotham.” Owen was cheeky, when he wasn’t anxious. That was. Definitely dangerous. “So...your number? That way I can just throw you gas money next time I need a ride somewhere.”

“I knew you had ulterior motives. Everyone only wants me for my sweet wheels.” Axel replied dryly, but he grabbed a marker from his center console anyway, scribbling his number on Owen’s wrist. Owen grinned down at him as Axel kept hold of his wrist a few seconds longer than necessary, and that’s when his father reasserted his presence. 

“And I’m George!” He said, a bit too loudly to be casual. “Folks called me Digger. And you are, boy that’s bound to be ‘round for tea at some point?” Owen snorted, lips clamped shut to keep from laughing.

“Axel.” He was good at parents, parents always loved him. Other people’s parents, at least. “I’m one of the two Lyft drivers in town. I actually live like, two miles from here.”

That admission sent Digger off on a spiel about some restaurant in the area that had kicked him out last year, and Axel suddenly realized why he’d had a prickling feeling of familiarity this whole time. “I was there for that!” Digger stopped himself mid-sentence, jaw going slack. “Yeah, you got kicked out of Marcela’s at like, one in the morning after you tried to fight the waiter and he totally-” Kicked your ass, Axel didn’t say, but the sentiment hung in the air regardless. “I’m uh. Gonna go. I think I have another ride.”

He didn’t, but it sped up the process of getting Owen’s bags out of his car. Axel drove around aimlessly for a little bit afterwards, his phone off in the passenger’s seat. He only turned it on again once he was in his apartment, and it immediately rang.

“Dude I’ve been calling for like an hour I almost hopped back on the goddamn plane.” Axel sighed, flopping down onto the couch, kicking off his shoes. 

“I miss you too, buddy. How’s that glorious Gotham smog?”

“Like a party in my lungs and everyone’s throwing up. Why was your phone off?” The sigh was deeper this time, and Axel thunked his head against the arm of the couch a few times.

“Remember that guy I told you about, from a month back? Well...” As he spilled out the story, Joey helpfully laughed at him. Multiple times. “Hey, shut up. Unlike you, I don’t make a habit of chasing down every warm body that turns my head.”

“Yeah but also unlike me, you’ve dated like, half a person in all the time I’ve known you.” He had a point. “And does it really count as a date if the guy leaves the theater halfway through to-”

“Point taken!” Axel yelped, frowning at the continued buzzing in his ear. “Were you blowing up my texts, too? I’ve got like ten.”

“Don’t look at me, you know my fingers don’t like texting.” It was true, Joey had hands the size of Axel’s head. Which meant- 

“Oh my god he’s been texting me almost this whole time, what do I do.”

“Depends, there an unsolicited dick pic in there?”

“Joey! Also, no.”

Sorry about that, my dad can be...a lot :( But I promise he’s lonely and weird in a good way.

I honestly didn’t think you were 20, btw. I was convinced a fetus had somehow conned its way into the DMV.

That was a joke.

Shit you probably don’t text and drive. Which is good, don’t text and drive.

It’s wild that it’s only like 7pm. My body is convinced it’s later. I mean I know Keystone and Gotham are only an hour apart, but this city goes to sleep earlier.

Do you wanna get something to eat? I don’t start my job until Monday, so I have like three days to kill and I want to explore things.

The city, I mean.

Oh my god I’m just blowing up your phone like some kind of desperate creep I’m so sorry

If on the off chance you haven’t blocked me, I’m walking over to the park we passed on the way to my dad’s place, to bang my head against a tree for a while

“...wow, he’s a loser.” Axel snorted but honestly...yeah, he kinda was.

“He’s a cute loser. And he likes my music.”

“Keeper.”

“Definitely. I’ll call you tomorrow, Joey. I’ve gotta go save some trees.” Just as he was about to hang up, his friend got in one last jab.

“So when he eventually moves in with you next week, turn my room into a game room so I don’t have to think about you two fucking in there.”  There was a click as Joey disconnected, and Axel covered his face with his hands.

***

The park, funny enough, was only two blocks from his house so instead of wasting gas, Axel grabbed a hoodie off the hook by the door and walked over. He was halfway there before he realized that the jacket he was wearing was one of the ones Joey had shrunk in the wash and left behind. Still didn’t fit him right.

By the time he’d made his way past the last few joggers and couples out for a nice little nighttime stroll and spotted Owen, the taller man was fully laying down on a bench near the small playground, messing with his phone. Moments later, Axel’s own phone buzzed.

I’m by the playground, because I’ve knocked down every tree in the park.

“Yeah, I noticed the path of destruction on the way over.” Axel said as soon as he was close enough, and Owen visibly jumped.

“Jesus! I didn’t think you’d get here that fast! Or at all, really. I was pretty sure I’d basically destroyed the chance of you ever wanting to see me again by sending you fifty texts in under an hour.” Axel shrugged, perching on the very edge of the bench until Owen got the message and sat up properly.

“Man, don’t even worry about it. I’ve screwed up at least one thing a day, every day, my entire life. I’m like a unicorn! Of failure.” That caused Owen to laugh, and Axel grinned to himself. “So what caused you to flee into the night this soon after coming to town, huh?”

Owen coughed, looking down at his feet. The playground was covered in tire mulch, and it looked like some of the bits had made their way into his boots. “So uh. As it turns out, my dad has been seeing someone for a while, and it’s serious enough that he wants me to meet her and her kids sometime this week, because they’re probably going to end up moving in together within the year.”

Yikes.

“Wow that is. You weren’t kidding about your dad being a lot, huh?” Owen grimaced. “Don’t tell me it gets better?”

“The woman he’s been seeing is my biological mom."

Well, holy shit.

Owen ended up spilling the story over the course of the next few minutes, about how his dad and mom had dated briefly years ago, she’d gotten pregnant, and her family had forced her to cut off all contact with Digger and put the baby up for adoption...only for her to run off with a man they absolutely hated (but who was, by all accounts, basically the best guy ever) a few years later. She and the other guy had gotten married, she’d given birth to a pair of twins, and then a few years after that, the guy just up and dies on her. She and the kids bounce around the States for a while, finally settling down across the river from her shitty family that, despite everything, still want to be in her life and get to know her sons. She and Digger ran into each other at the supermarket a couple of months before Owen contacted him, and-

“He didn’t even tell you that your mom was back in his life?! Man, that’s about twenty times the legal limit on ‘a lot’.”

“To be fair-” Axel made an angry little noise, and Owen winced. “To be fair, she’s the one who’s scared as hell to meet me. I mean, she was like, your age when she gave me up. Then she just turned around and started another family without bothering to even try and find me. Dad says that Meloni, that my mom, she’s felt guilty for the last 23 years. Because I’ve been out here all this time, becoming a person, and she doesn’t know anything about me.” There was a little hitch in Owen’s voice there, and they both got very still. “Ah, shit. Ah, geez man I’m-”

“Parents ain’t shit sometimes, even when they’re trying their best.” Axel said quietly, reaching over to hold onto Owen’s elbow. “I uh, I’ve kinda been on my own a while, too. I moved in with Joey like, three months after I turned 18. And, and my situation ain’t anything like yours, but I get it, you know?”

Owen propped the elbow Axel wasn’t holding up on his knee, resting his cheek on his closed fist. Go on, then, his eyes seemed to say in the reflection of the dim lights that were flickering on around the playground. Tell me a story, weird boy. 

The summer before his senior year in high school, Axel’s mom found out Axel’s dad was banging one of his coworkers. They filed for divorce later that same month. Dad moved out, and mom and Axel spent the entire school year selling off or hiding anything valuable he might try and take in the divorce proceedings. They sold the house and split the money down the middle. Dad, now living with his coworker (soon to be fiance), told Axel he couldn’t live with him. Mom, who was planning on taking off for middle-of-nowheresville, Iowa to stay with some cousins, told him that he was welcome to come along, but she’d understand if he wanted to stay, as he’d been accepted to a couple of in-state colleges. He couldn’t afford to go to them, but he also didn’t want to leave the only city he’d ever known.

He stayed. He got a million different shitty jobs. He found a good roommate after one or two bad starts. He enrolled in online classes. He managed to save little odds and ends here and there, enough to do some fun shit, like buy the albums he really liked on vinyl like some kinda hipster, and see a couple of movies a month in the theater. He could afford Netflix, so long as Joey paid for their joint Hulu account. He wasn’t living the dream, but he also wasn’t just straight up surviving. He had a life.

“And then one day, I picked up this weird ginger from a shitty motel by the airport, and here we are.”

Owen was quiet for a while, just watching him and processing. Finally, he spoke.

“When do you turn 21?” Axel blinked.

“Uh, April 17th.” Owen scowled. “What?”

“Well this just means you’re gonna need to wait outside or in an alley or something while I buy liquor, because I think we both need a drink right goddamn now.”

***

In the end, Axel managed to convince Owen to just meet him back at his apartment with his booze. The walk from the park to the closest liquor store should take about half an hour for someone who doesn’t know the area and is just going off their phone’s GPS, which gave him a solid hour to turn the half-empty wreck that was his home into something presentable.

Joey was, of course, in hysterics.

“You’re telling me that not only is he coming back to your place after the two of you had a heart to heart in a public park, but he’s planning on bringing alcohol, which you’re actually planning on drinking?! Was it me? Was I the one holding you back from reaching your true potential? I’ve been gone like half a day and you’re already on the track to getting hella laid.” 

“I’m not gonna get laid.” Axel protested, throwing the boxes they’d never gotten around to taking to the homeless shelter into Joey’s room, as well as the small stack of empty pizza boxes from his goodbye party the week before. “We’re gonna watch a movie, I’m gonna try not to hate beer for once, maybe he’ll crash here. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Dude...it took me like a month to get you to tell me the deal about your folks. This guy just levels the right look at you and you’re singin’ like a canary. You’re gonna have one beer and just throw yourself at him.”

“So then I won’t drink, and we’ll just watch the various Jurassic Park movies until we fall asleep.” The couch pillows were shitty, so he grabbed a couple of his own (one which was shaped like BB-8, the other that was shaped like R2-D2) from his room, as well as a blanket from his closet, just in case.

“We don’t have any of the Jurassic Park movies on- oh my god you’re gonna use Netflix.”

“Uh, obviously?” Axel replied, triple checking to make sure that there wasn’t any random embarrassing junk in the living room. “Why?”

“Axel. You’re gonna Netflix and chill. I’m so proud of you, my baby bird is finally leaving his nest.”

“You’re the worst friend I’ve ever had.” There was a knock on the door, and Axel froze. “I gotta go, he’s here.”

“There should still be condoms under the c-” Hanging up on Joey had never felt so good.

***

“Okay but like, what I wanna know is, if they clocked the T-Rex going like 30 miles an hour in the last movie, and she couldn’t catch a jeep, how come she can’t catch a single one of these people running away from her on foot in this one??? She’s been hunting wild for years, get your head in the game, girl!”

Axel might be a wee smidge drunk.

In his defense, Owen hadn’t come bearing beer, he’d brought whiskey. Whiskey with honey in it, that tasted amazing with the coke he had left in the fridge. He’d had almost an entire Flanigan’s cup already. Next to him on the couch, Owen laughed. He’d lost his boots during the second half of the first Jurassic Park, and currently had his legs slung over the arm, the bottle he was drinking from on the floor. He was using one of Axel’s stupid Star Wars pillows so that his head was propped up enough for him to actually see the TV.

“Jeff Goldblum is a shitty dad.” He said, words muffled a little by the way BB-8 was pressing against his cheek. “Also doesn’t he have like, three kids? I thought he said he had three kids. Where are the other two?”

“Safe, somewhere that’s not an island filled with fucking dinosaurs!” Axel yelled that last part, causing his downstairs neighbor to throw something hard at the ceiling. “Sorry, Mrs. Oberman!” He went to take a long sip from his cup, finding it empty. “Oh...shit...I should probably like. Get some water. You want some water?” His legs buckled as he tried to stand, sending him toppling back down to the couch with a surprised yelp. BB-8 slipped out from under Owen’s head as he laughed at him some more, reaching over to pat Axel on the arm.

“Chill, young padawan. Gimme your cup, I’ll get you some water.” Owen didn’t seem to have any trouble sitting up and walking around, the bastard.

“Why aren’t you drunk?” Axel demanded, taking his cup back with a frown. Owen just shrugged.

“I’m twice your size and give my liver regular workouts?” A good point. “You wanna pause this hot mess and go to bed?” Axel frowned. It was barely past midnight.

“You gonna be okay getting home? It’s late, and all.”

A look passed over Owen’s face, something that later, after a few aspirin and a shower, Axel would be able to identify as nerves. “I was actually thinking maybe I could...crash here? I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, promise.”

“If only all my dates were so nice.” Axel said dryly, then yelped in a very different kind of surprise. “Joking! Okay cool, goodnight!”

But again when he tried to stand, his legs refused to cooperate only this time, he fell directly into Owen’s lap, sitting sideways on his knees like some kinda princess. 

I’d like to die now please.

As though it was his default reaction to everything, Owen laughed.

“Hey hey, I’m not the kinda guy that expects multiple bases on the first date.” He was teasing him. Making fun of him. Awesome. “First base is perfectly fine. I’m honestly just happy to be up at bat.”

Or, maybe not.

“Was this a date?” Axel asked. He couldn’t rightfully tell, but his eyes felt huge. Disney-esque, even. Keep on the lookout for singing bluebirds, and shit. Owen didn’t stop grinning, though he did shake his head.

“I kinda wanted it to be like, the precursor to a date? Hang out, see if there’s more than just that ‘oh shit he’s cute’ vibe. And then my dad had to. Y’know. And it got real heavy real fast and-” Owen snapped himself out of his rambling before he got too far into it. “Anyway. Yeah. You’re cute, and you’re funny, and you’ve got good taste in music and movies. And I wanna know more about you, like what kinda toppings you like on your pizza, and where your ideal road trip destination would be, and what you look like when you get kissed senseless. But like I said,” Owen tilted his head just so, pecking a short kiss on the end of Axel’s nose. All of his freckles felt like they were glowing red-hot. “This wasn’t a date, and I like to think I’m the kinda guy that can wait until the first date to make a move.”

Oh. Oh, good lord. Oh man.

“O-Owen,” Axel started quietly, even as he felt his face get pinker and pinker. “I uh, I like black olives and sausage and extra cheese. And I wanna go to California some day, maybe check out Joshua Tree and Disneyland and LA, but hit the Grand Canyon and Vegas and Four Corners on the way there. And you uh, you already kissed me once, so like, maybe..?” He let out a nervous, helpless little giggle.

Owen snorted.

“What’s your last name?” He murmured, palms hot against Axel’s hips.

“W-Walker.” Axel stuttered, squirming when one of Owen’s thumbs found a ticklish spot on his side.

“Mine’s Mercer.” Owen replied, leaning in and pressing his lips a little too firmly against Axel’s. His scruffy little goatee was itchy, where it rubbed against his chin and lower lip.

Later, Owen would confess that he’d been trying to think of something suave and cool to say before kissing him. That he’d been worried that Axel would laugh at him, or hate the way his mouth felt, or a million other tiny anxieties that crawled through his brain whenever he got the opportunity to be with someone. Later, Axel would confess that he literally had no standards, because this was the first time he’d ever made out with anyone and if you asked him, Owen had done fine.

“Did we Netflix and chill?” Owen would ask the next morning, after they’d fallen asleep on the floor in a tangled heap of blanket and limbs and novelty pillows. And Axel would groan in return, from a combination of the intensity of his hangover, and Joey being right about something.

“Romance is dead.” He moans. And Owen would just laugh, kissing his forehead.

He disagrees.

[wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey]

Gotham 4x14 (Spoilers below)

The episode opens with Bruce opening up the case with his vigilante costume YESSSS he picks up the mask, staring at and nOOOO WAIT WHY IS HE BURNING IT STAHP

-WHAT ARE YOU DOING BRUCE

-Ivy is freaking weird now

-Lee pls don’t be taken in by Sofia

-Sofia: *wants control of the Narrows* I want a 30% tax on all income from the narrows, legal and illegal Lee: these people live hand to mouth they’ll STARVE Sofia: well we all have to make sacrifices Lee:  WTF

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME WOMAN

-Sidenote: Lee’s black fur is an AESTHETIC

-Alfred graciously allows Bruce to meet him but Bruce has NO idea how to apologize...just begs Alfred for his help repeatedly, and Alfred is practically breathless waiting for this boy he loves as his son to say those two words, I’m sorry, but Bruce, my lost, ashamed, scared, probably too proud for his own good son, just can’t make himself say those words. And Alfred, bless his soul, refuses to just forget everything that happened and go running back to Bruce. He could, he loves him enough, but no he loves him more than that.  Alfred loves Bruce so much that he doesn’t do the easy thing and forgive Bruce just like that.  Instead, he forces Bruce to grow, to act like a man, to show he has changed, but right now Bruce is JUST NOT GETTING IT and I AM CRYING I CAN’T

Bruce: I am asking as a friend Alfred: well I’m not your friend I was your butler and you fired me

BURN

-The Riddler aspect of Ed is currently haunting him, and Ed is trying his best to keep his supervillain side under control but yeah I don’t see that lasting for long

-Lucius please get your nose a little further away then twelve inches from the deadly flower that carries an airborne bio weapon

-BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA JIM AND THE GCPD BURST INTO HARVEY’S APARTMENT AND HARVEY IS SO TICKED OFF

-Ivy: *sends a video to the Gotham news station, showing dead bodies* Gotham news station: why is it suddenly the hot thing to do to send us weird videos? Oh well *shrugs shoulders and airs the video*

-Harvey is by no means a coward and is gonna go find Ivy by himself...ONCE HE FINDS HIS PANTS LOL

I-’m DYING Ed dramatically demands that a bunch of Gotham Street Irregulars find out what Sofia’s plans are and he bribes them with “an entire set of encyclopedias—minus the T” of course the kids are like wut so he has to sweeten the deal with $20

-SELINA DOES NOT GIVE UP ON HER FRIENDS

-Harvey: LET’S GET THIS STRAIGHT JIM I AM NEVER WORKING WITH YOU AGAIN *five minutes later* JIM I GOT A LEAD COME MEET ME

Aw DANG IT he’s being controlled by Ivy of course I just can’t have nice things

-It is testimony to Cory Michael Smith I LOVE Ed/the Riddler so much he always has great scenes and I love his arguments with himself BUT ALSO ED WAIT NO OMG HE IS ALL SET TO KILL HIMSELF TO STOP HIMSELF WHOA “I GUESS YOU ARE SMARTER THAN ME”

-Harvey: DON’T EVEN TRY TO TALK YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS ONE Jim: OH I WOULDN’T BUT UH QUICK QUESTION IS IVY’S HAIR MORE AUBURN OR SCARLET Harvey: OH I UH GOOD QUESTION Jim:  *knocks him out*

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-I FREAKING LOVE SELINA. BRUCE COMES TO HER (BECAUSE SERIOUSLY APART FROM ALFRED SHE IS BASICALLY HIS ONLY OTHER FRIEND AND THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHO KNOWS HIM SO WELL) AND ANYWAY SELINA JUST T E A R S HIM UP LIKE BOI I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR NONSENSE IVY IS KILLING PEOPLE ALSO YOU FOOL GO SAY SORRY TO ALFRED BECAUSE I AM 52935% SURE THIS IS YOUR FAULT

-OMG Ed sits down to tell Lee about Sofia and Jim and he looks very messy-haired and stressed “so technically your ex has been sleeping with your dead husband’s mafiosa sister” and Lee is just like wtf jim wtf

-Lee is ready to throw Jim under the bus if it means saving the people of the Narrows and Ed is just so impressed with her dedication that he fumbles around a second about to confess his love to her then runs away, and honestly I don’t ship Lee and Ed (I think) because of Ed’s messy past relationships that REALLY didn’t go well but also I like how he much he admires Lee, a strong woman who helps the people in her care

ALSO I CAN’T WITH ED’S MESSY HAIR I LOVE IT

-JIM AND HARVEY ARE WORKING TOGETHER AGAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL

-Jim: *orders the GCPD to go after Ivy and arm up with gas masks and guns with non-lethal rounds* Alvarez:  to fight...plants?

LOL

-ALSO NOT A DRILL HARVEY APOLOGIZES TO JIM FOR SAYING THEIR BROTP BREAKUP WAS ALL JIM’S FAULT *INDISTINCT SCREAMING*

-POOR BRUCE STANDING THERE AT THE GALA ALL ALONE AND LONELY AND AFRAID BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ALFRED AND SELINA HAVE BOTH REFUSED TO HELP HIM (AND WHO CAN BLAME THEM HE KNOWS THAT UGH MY HEART!!!)

WAIT OMG OMG OMG ALFRED JUST WALKED IN ASDFFHGJKL AND BRUCE CAN’T EVEN SPEAK

HE JUST LEAVES HIS SPEECH BEHIND AND SAYS ALFRED WAS A FRIEND AND PROTECTOR AND A fATHER TO HIM AND ASKS FOR A SECOND CHANCE AND I’M CRYING AND ALFRED IS GONNA CRY AND EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL AND OMG BRUCE WALKS DOWN TOWARD ALFRED AND LOOKS SO INTENSE AND SCARED AND ALFRED SAYS THANKS FOR THAT BUT WAIT HE SAYS HE STILL CAN’T HELP BRUCE AND BRUCE IS LIKE I KNOW WHO I AM BUT ALFRED IS LIKE YOU HAVE DARKNESS IN YOU BUT UNDERNEATH YOU ALSO HAVE A HEART THAT WANTS TO HELP PEOPLE AND YOU HAVE TO FIND THAT bUT WhAT NO HE SAYS HE CAN’T HELP BRUCE FIND THAT?  AND THEN BRUCE SAYS HE WAS STUPID FOR REACHING OUT

WHAT

WTF

I AM SO UPSET RIGHT NOW

-annnnnnd the saga of Wayne galas getting held up by villains continues hi there Ivy

-EDDDD DON’T DO IT :(

-I’m sorry, if a lady walked into the gala I was at and started exploding people with flowers from the inside, I would be shrieking quite a bit more than these people are...then again this is Gotham, they’ve seen some pretty weird stuff by this point

-for context, I am screaming and breathless for the entirety of this next bit:  BRUCE RUNS BACK TO THE ROOM BECAUSE ALFRED IS THERE, AND HE STEALS ONE OF THE MOOK’S NINJA CLOTHES, AND THEN HE FLICKS OFF THE LIGHTS AND TAKES OUT BAD GUYS MY SON DOES tHAT AND THEN HE WANTS TO SAVE JUST ALFRED AND ALFRED IS LIKE SON MY SON THIS IS WHAT I FREAKING MEANT tHIS IS WHO YOU ARE YOU ARE MEANT TO HELP PEOPLE AND BRUCE JUST LOOKS AT HIM AND RAISES UP THE SCARF OVER HIS MOUTH INTENSE BRUCE HAS RETURNED THE YOUNG BATMAN RISES AND THE LOOK ON ALFRED’S FACE IS BLOODY HELL YES!!!!!!!  

-BRUCE HIDING IN THE SHADOWS

OOPS JIM FOUND HIM RUN BRUCE RUN

AH YES BRUCE IS ALREADY DISAPPEARING OFF OF ROOFTOPS GET USED TO IT JIM

-Selina sitting casually in the darkness and then clicking on a lamp is my aesthetic

-“So you can go make more plants to kill people?  Yeah that ain’t gonna happen” SELINA IS A HERO SELINA IS A GOOD PERSON SELINA WHATEVER SHE SAYS CARES ABOUT MORE THAN JUST HERSELF I LOVE HER TO DEATH

Ivy:  one cut is all it’ll take no more running across rooftops and such Selina:  I’ll keep that in mind *gracefully slips under Ivy’s grasp and cartwheels away*

-SELINA IS SO FREAKING SASSY I LOVE HER

THE ONLY THING I’M CHOKING ON IVY IS YOUR INSANITY OMG OMG OMG

SELINA IS BRAVE AND A GOOD FRIEND AND I FREAKING CANNOT

-Lee meets with Sofia to win her over with dirt on Jim but Sofia is cold and cruel and GOSH NO DO NOT TOUCH LEE UGH NO NO NO she literally destroys Lee’s hand I CAN’T

...Lee is a great leader and would do well anywhere except the awful warzone of Gotham

ALSO Jim is gonna MURDER Sofia...or Ed will...or even someone else from the Narrows because Lee is really beloved I think of all but icky traitor guy I never trusted in the first place

-GAH The Riddler tells Ed to commit himself in Arkham BUT IT WAS ALL A PLOY BETWEEN THE RIDDLER AND OSWALD OMG AND OSWALD IS A HAPPY IF ALWAYS CREEPY PENGUIN

-ADSFHJFKDGLJSK BRUCE AND ALFRED SITTING AND ALFRED BINDING UP BRUCE’S WOUNDS WHILE BRUCE INTENSELY ACCEPTS WHO HE IS AND WHO HE WILL BE THIS IS A GREAT PARALLEL TO THE END OF THE THIRD SEASON

ALSO Alfred says Bruce’s parents would be proud of him and Bruce just LOOKS and Alfred says that HE is proud of him too and Bruce says do you want me to drive you to Gotham (sidenote: do you even HAVE a driver’s license son?) and this is him giving Alfred an opportunity to say yes, to leave him, it is an unspoken plea for Alfred to stay, and Alfred says no he doesn’t want to go anywhere he is HOME!!! *CLUTCHES HEART*

-YAASSS NOT ONLY HAVE BRUCE AND ALFRED MADE UP BUT HARVEY AND GORDON ARE COMING CLEAN AND APOLOGIZING IN RASPY VOICES LONG LIVE THE BROTPS AND THE FATHER/SON RELATIONSHIPS!!!!!

[sebeth]

Jason-a-thon, part 2

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

 The Crisis On Infinite Earths occurred from 1985 through 1986.  From late 1986 through mid-1987 DC Comics focused on re-establishing the iconic characters: The Man of Steel miniseries, Batman: Year One, etc.  Jason as Robin would make several appearances in various titles in early 1987 but it wouldn’t be until Batman #408 (June ’87) that Jason received a revised origin.

“Did Robin die tonight?”  by Max Allan Collins and Chris Warner.

We open with Batman and Robin (Dick Grayson) fighting the Joker on a rooftop.  Joker shoots Robin through the arm, causing him to fall off the roof.  Luckily, Robin’s fall stops when he becomes entangled in the grappling line.  Thus begins a long-standing tradition of Joker traumatizing Batman by targeting the Robins.

Robin loses his grip, falling further.

“Robin!  I’m on my way to you, boy!  Oh my god…”

Batman catches Robin before he falls to his death.

A news helicopter witnesses the event: “Hey!  I think that fall the kid took was serious and he’s bleeding.  Get me back to the studio, Frankie!  ‘Did Robin die tonight?’ Film at 11!”

Alfred’s patching up Dick at Wayne Manor.  Dick and Bruce are arguing over the “retirement” of Robin.

“You almost did die tonight, Dick – and had you, the Joker wouldn’t have been responsible.  I would.”

“Are you saying it hasn’t been great?  That I haven’t been your strong right arm?

“You have, son.  But we’ve been lucky.  In what I do, there is no place for a child.”

“A child!”

Let’s pause this argument for a minute.  Dick’s been Robin since he was 12 but now that he’s 18 (legally an adult), Bruce has decided there’s no place for a “child” in the hero business?  Sorry, Bruce, but it’s too late for that realization.

Alfred urges Dick to remain calm due to his wound.

“I’ll say I’ve been wounded - plenty of times.  But never this deep.”

“If by that you mean I’ve wounded you son, I’m sorry.  And you are a man, now – man enough to accept my decision.

I thought Dick was a child? Bruce literally called Dick a child three panels earlier.

“Fine.  If you want Robin to stay dead, that’s okay with me. But you’ve trained me too well – made me what I am today.  You can’t keep me from pursuing my own destiny.”

“That’s one thing I’ve learned, Dick.  A man might as well pursue his destiny…because it’ll catch him if he doesn’t.”

There is no consistent logic in this argument.  “It’s too dangerous for you to fight crime by my side, under my supervision – but, hey, you go do your solo thing, let me know how that work’s out.”  Wouldn’t it be equally Bruce’s fault if Dick died as a vigilante after breaking up the partnership?

The last panel details Bruce and Dick reaching a mutual understanding – not the fiery, loud breakup it’s later portrayed as.

My own personal Bat Family timeline:

Dick attends, and later leaves, Hudson University.

Dick reforms the Teen Titans with Wonder Girl, Starfire, Cyborg, Kid Flash, Raven, and Beast Boy.

Dick returns to Gotham to aid Batman in tracking down the Joker.  The rooftop incident results in Dick abandoning the Robin role.

Dick returns to New York City in time for the Judas Contract and assumes the Nightwing identity.

Enough about Dick – this is a Jason-a-thon.

“In the weeks that follow” the media speculates over the fate of Robin.  Jim Gordon even asks Batman: “Is Robin dead?”

“Literally? No.  To all intents and purposes? Yes.”

Bruce meets Vicky Vale for a lunch date.  Vale informs Bruce she’s heading to Crime Alley to invterview Ma Gunn, the head of “Ma Gunn’s School For Boys”.

“The media has publicized her back-to-basics approach but because she shelters runaways without cooperating with social agencies, the ‘old girl’ has enemies.  You ought to consider giving her some funding, Bruce.  The school is accredited, you know, Ma Gunn was a teacher in Australia for years.”

Bruce returns to Crime Alley on the anniversary of his parents’ death.  The date of the Wayne’s murder changes but I think the most current date is September 25.

Bruce indulges his man-pain and encounters Ma Gunn, congratulating her on her “good work”.

Batman returns to the Batmobile and discovers it’s missing the front tires.

“And Batman does something he has never done before, in Crime Alley” – Bruce has a laugh over the situation.

Bruce kneels down to appraise the situation: “I have to hand it to ‘em – it takes stones to rip off Batman’s buggy.”

Jason, returning to the Batmobile, doesn’t see the kneeling Batman until its too late.

“Well – come to finish the job, boy?”

“Whoops.”

“You’re going to give me back my tires.”

“Who says I took ‘em?”

“What else is the tire iron for?”

“This!”

Jason hits Batman in the chest with the tire iron.

“You little son of a gun…”

“Try and catch me, you big boob!”

I admire Jason’s brazenness and audacity but I don’t think he’s going to win a “catch me if you can” game with the Batman.

The Who’s Who of the DC Universe: Update’87 states Jason Todd was 4’6” and 87 pounds.  So ballsy for such a small child.  The Who’s Who entry also states it was months between Dick and Jason’s time as Robin.

Batman decides “I can stop him easily enough, but maybe I should let him lead me to my whitewalls.”

Batman tracks Jason to his hideout. He enquires about Jason’s parents.

“I don’t know where my pop is.  Doin’ time again, most likely.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s dead.  She got sick.  Okay?  Now get outa here!  Or do I have to make you leave?”

Jason swings at Batman. Oh, Jason, if the tire iron had no effect, your tiny little fist won’t either.

“You’re a scrappy one, I’ll say that much for you.”

Batman offers assistance to Jason.

“You’re gonna fink to the cops, huh?”  Figures.”

“Not the cops.  I think we do have to tell the juvenile authorities about you.”

“Social workers?  Give me a break!  I can fend for myself just fine!  I know how to make it on the streets – and I like it there!  I don’t want to wind up in some crummy orphanage, or some foster home where I’m somebody’s pet charity case.  I’m my own man!  Me, Jason Todd!”

“Jason Todd, huh? Pretty fancy handle for a street kid. How long was your mother sick?”

“Over a year.  I found her food and stuff – kept her warm and alive – long as I could.”

“What about school, son?”

“I graduated a long time ago from the streets of Crime Alley.”

“Okay, we’ll make a deal. No social workers.  No cops.  But you have to go to school.”

“What school?”

“Ma Gunn’s School For Boys – right here in Crime Alley.”

“Well – I hear that’s better than real school.”

The two shake hands and Batman drops Jason off at Ma Gunn’s school.

We establish Jason’s rough life in his very first appearance: an absentee, criminal father, an ill mother that has passed away, homeless and living on the streets.

We receive a nice overview of Jason’s personality: scrappy, resourceful, not trusting of authority figures.

Unfortunately, we don’t see more of Jason’s early life before his murder in the “Death In The Family” arc. Is there a reason he’s doesn’t trust social workers and foster homes?  Did he simply hear horror stories?  Did he experience a horror story?

I’d like to note that Jason has black hair – not red.  Since Jason’s hair is black since his introduction Bruce has no reason to have Jason dye his hair. Yet the off-the-rails insane Jason in Batman and Robin rants about Bruce making his dye his hair black.  Was Jason so insane during this time that he was remembering his pre-Crisis life?

Up next – Jason discovers the school isn’t the safe haven he was promised.

[mymarvelimagines]

Gone - Part 3

@ mayfeather27  here’s part 3!!

----------

You are now six months pregnant, and are currently living in Tony’s mansion in Ireland. You and Natasha were preparing for the rest of the Avengers to visit. New York was quiet and Tony had gotten the Fantastic Four to agree to watch over the city while they were away.

“Y/N! What are you doing? Let me get that” Tasha called out

You chuckle and squat down anyway, picking up your phone from where you dropped it. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid, Tasha”

The spy stopped beside you, “You could hurt yourself if you fall, and Thor isn’t here to bring you to the hospital”

“I’m not going to fall, and even if I did, I’m a Super Soldier, I’m pretty sure this body could take a fall. Just give it another month or so and you’ll get tires of having to pick everything up for me”

“I’ll never get tired of preserving your help, Сестра”

Sir and the rest of the Avengers have just arrived

Out of habit you look up to the ceiling, “Thanks, JARVIS”

You are quite welcome, Ms. Y/N. May I inquire on the state of your child?

“Now, I know that you have systems that monitor me all day, so you already know how the baby’s doing”

While that is true, I cannot gauge the activity of the child, or how you are feeling

“The baby’s really active today, and I’m fine, a little tired, but fine”

Thank you, Ms. Y/N. I will inform the doctor of your condition

“Thanks, JARVIS”

Before either you or Natasha can move, the door bursts open and Tony walks in. when he catches sight of you he runs forward, intending to scoop you into a hug, but Tasha steps in his way

“No, Tony. You cannot be too rough with her. I will not stand for any of you to injur Y/N or the baby”

“Well it’s good to know that some things never change” Clint calls out, tossing his duffle bag onto the hallway floor

“You may be my best friend, Clint, but if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you”

“Tasha” you snap, she immediately stiffens and glances back at you, “Stop threatening them, they are on vacation. You and Thor are going to have to get used to other people touching me and my stomach.”

Tony steps around Natasha and gives you a gentle hug. “I missed you, Y/N, I haven’t had anyone to watch cheesy horror movies with”

“Well, if you’re staying until the end of the pregnancy then we’ll have plenty of time to catch up”

You pull away from Tony and walk toward Bruce, “Hello, Bruce”

Bruce blushes, “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hello, Hulk”

Bruce’s eyes flash green, “He missed you, too. There hasn’t been a code green since you left. I was wondering if we could go outside and he could …”

Ever since you had joined the Avengers you had made it your goal to bring Bruce and Hulk closer. You had wanted them to understand each other. Eventually Hulk had calmed, would only come out if Bruce wanted him to, or if he was needed. There were practically no more unwanted transformations, and Bruce was a hell of a lot happier than he had been before.

“I’d love to see Hulk, maybe after dinner?”

“Yeah, I’d really like that”

Captain Rogers and Thor are requesting assistance at the quinjet

“Never mind, JARVIS, we got it” Steve called

“Steve!” You quickly waddle over and hug the other Super Soldier, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Y/N” Steve gently holds you at arm’s length, “Wow, I think you’ve gotten even bigger since the last time we video chatted”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the baby just keeps on growing!”

Steve’s face suddenly falls, “I’m so sorry, Y/N”

You look up at him, confused, “Why are you sorry? You just got here”

Steve sighs softly, squaring his shoulders, “I told Bucky about the pregnancy”

You choke, your eyes widening in horror, “Steve …”

“I didn’t tell him where you were, or where we were going, but he saw one of the pictures that you sent us. He was furious, calling you names for going and getting you knocked up right after your breakup. I just got so angry, we ended up in a huge fight. I shouted at him that the baby was his” Steve locks eyes with you, “I’m so sorry”

You lift a trembling hand up to your mouth, “I think I need to sit down” You whisper.

Immediately Tasha takes you by the elbow and leads you to the living room, gently sitting you down on the couch. “James has been looking for you for about a month and he hasn’t found us yet. Please calm down, worrying isn’t good for the baby”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew. Steve called me as soon as Bucky stormed out of the Tower. JARVIS has been keeping track of which Houses he’s been to already”

“I didn’t want Bucky to know about the baby” You look up at Tasha, frantically grabbing her arm, “I don’t want him to take my baby away! You guys can’t let him take my baby”

Steve sits down beside you, “If he even tries to get to you, he’ll have to go through all of us”

You nod quietly and look up at everyone in the room. All of them were nodding along with what Steve had said, “Thank you guys. I think I want to take a nap, I hope you guys don’t mind”

“Go ahead, we’ll start making dinner, and get settled in”

“Thanks, I’ll be up in a little while”

Steve gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Let JARVIS know if you need anyone, we’ll all be right here”

--

Another month has passed and you are rapidly approaching your eighth month of pregnancy. It was getting increasingly difficult to walk around without someone hovering over you. Currently Bruce and Thor were out grocery shopping, Tony and Steve were talking to Phil and getting an update on New York, and Natasha and Clint were playing Mario Kart in the living room. This left you as the only one to answer the door when someone knocks.

“Gimme a minute! I’m moving as fast as I can!” You call out

Ms. Y/N, Ms. Natasha has been alerted to the knock. She has asked me to tell you not to open the door

You chuckle and take a step away from the door “Alright, not need to get nervous, JARVIS. I just wanted to see who it was”

Natasha walks up behind you and grabs the door handle. She pulls the door open about two inches and glances at the person on the other side. As soon as she sees the visitor, Tasha slams the door shut again.

“Go up to your room, Y/N” Tasha growls, pulling out one of her knives. It’s so rare for her to look anxious that is immediately puts you on edge.

“Who was it?” You whisper, dread beginning to fill you

“Сестра, please …”

You step forward and grab the door handle, “Move, Tasha”

Surprisingly she obeys, stepping away from the door, her shoulders hunching slightly in defeat. You throw the door open and freeze when you make eye contact with the person on the other side of the door.

James Buchanan Barnes stood there, his eyes sweeping up and down your body, zeroing in on your protruding stomach.

“Bucky …” His name nothing more than a breath.

He raises his eyes to yours, “Steve wasn’t lying, you really are pregnant”

You nod quietly, “Yeah, I am”

Bucky gently nudged you back inside and steps into the mansion, “Do you know how hard it was to find you? No one would tell me anything, and then they all just left. Eventually I just started going out to all of the properties that Tony owns. I’m sorry it took so long to find you, but JARVIS refused to be any help”

You could feel the shock wear off, and anger rise up to take its place. “That’s what you’re sorry for?!? For taking too long to find me!? Did you ever think that I didn’t want to be found? You left me! I didn’t want you to know about the baby! I didn’t want to force you to stay with me! Our child deserves more than that!” By the end of your rant you can feel tears flowing down your face. Tasha steps forward and hands you a tissue.

“The stress is not good for the baby, Y/N, you need to calm down” While Tasha was extremely gently with you, she rained down all her anger onto Bucky. “How dare you show your face here, Barnes! You think you can just show up and everything will be alright?!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N” Tears were filling Bucky’s eyes, “I had to leave you, I didn’t have a choice. That day at the café Rumlow called me, he demanded that I end our relationship. He threatened to kill you, to take you back to HYDRA. He had a gun trained on you, and I couldn’t disobey. If I had you might have been killed.”

“If you think that excuse is enough, then you are wrong” Tasha growls

Bucky wasn’t listening to her though; he was only looking at you. “By the time I tracked him down and destroyed the facility, you were gone. I went back to the Tower to get some help. That was where I saw the picture of you pregnant. I just got so angry that I started calling you names and then Steve told me that the baby was mine. That was when I realized why HYDRA wanted you so badly.” Bucky let out a soft sob, “He wouldn’t tell me where you were. And then when I went back a week later everyone was gone and JARVIS wouldn’t tell me where they went. I managed to track then here, to you.” Bucky drops down onto his knees and grabs your hands, “Do you – do you think you could ever forgive me?”

You sigh quietly, “I don’t know, Bucky. I hurt when you left, it felt like you didn’t even care, like I meant nothing to you”

“I know, and I’ll do anything to make up for that! Just – please give me a second chance. I’d never have left you if I had the choice, I just didn’t see any way out of it”

“One chance, Bucky, only one, that’s all you get”

Bucky peppers kisses all over your hand, “Thank you, thank you, thank you …”

“You have to get everyone else to forgive you too, Bucky” you tell him, Bucky nods frantically, “One mistake Buck, one, and you’re gone”

“I promise, Y/N. I promise I’ll do anything to make it up to you”

“I’ve already accepted your apology, it’s the others that you have to worry about”

---------------

Part 4

[pan0ramy]

alright, i know i've said it a million times now, but i don't think i'll ever be able to fully express how much i loved rick and morty. i am literally. fucking. OBSESSED. with this show after watching it for the first time. it's cleverly written, always interesting, and there's also the tiny fact that it's fucking hilarious. but there's been one big thing that's been basically niggling at me, and i wanted to get my thoughts out on it in a post.

i've said it at least twice now that rick is, by far, my favourite character - but there's a serious reason behind that. a couple, actually. 

for those of you who haven't seen the show, THIS WILL CONTAIN MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR RICK AND MORTY. 

i'll be putting the rest of this post below the cut so you don't see anything by accident, and i'll be marking which episodes you can expect to see spoilers for. if you HAVE seen the show, hopefully you can agree with some of these. but trust me, if you haven't watched this show yet, don't spoil yourself. it'll be worth it. ;)

overall, though, this was just a random post i wanted to make to get my thoughts out about this character, since there's been very few characters that have stood out to me as much as rick has.

there are probably dozens of moments in rick and morty that sum up why i like rick, but i'm gonna cover the ones that stood out to me the most. (fun fact: while making this post i actually realised nearly all of these are from season 2. yeah. go figure. :3)

* SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, EPISODE 10 - "THE WEDDING SQUANCHERS" *

this is the one episode that i'm pretty sure made some of us - if not everyone - cry by the end (whether out of genuine sadness or just frustration, like i did), and it showed a lot of different sides to rick's character. the first thing we really see that stood out to me was when tammy shoots birdperson. first of all, let me get the obvious thing out of the way. 

how fucking DARE SHE WHAT AN ABSOLUTE BITCH

...ahem. anyway.

that's not what i want to talk about - it's more rick's reaction to birdperson's death. we very rarely hear rick get so goddamn emotional at anything, but seriously. go back and watch this scene again, and pay attention to rick's reaction. 

fuckin' hell, justin roiland. you nailed it.

then there's the big point of rick's sacrifice - and the one goddamn reason i can't listen to nine inch nails'  "hurt" anymore without crying. 

i've seen a lot of people say that rick flat out doesn't care, but i feel like these people are missing something. like. how the fuck can you say that after watching this episode. rick, without (much) hesitation, turns himself in once he realises he'll be nothing but a detriment to the smiths' freedom, as well as their ability to live a normal life again. rick just says he's going to get ice cream and never comes back, and morty's the only person who initially understands what rick is actually doing (which kinda makes sense - morty's the person who spends the most time with rick, so i'd assume he has a better insight into what rick is really like).

finally, rick's voice acting comes into play once again when he's asked what he got put into prison for. the only reply we get is one word - "everything". again, justin roiland's voice acting just shows how defeated rick really is at this point. i mean, who wouldn't be? what's he got left?

* SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, EPISODE 1 - "A RICKLE IN TIME" *

the first episode we see in season 2, and one of the most entertaining episodes for me! the multiple timelines give us a lot of different options and possibilites, with one of them giving rick a good deal of character development. when one of the 64 possibilities we see ends up with morty's collar breaking and morty falling through the floor into space, rick straight up dives out after him. when he eventually catches up, he gives his collar to morty, and tells him to "be better than me". 

of course, he does eventually lose his shit when he finds the collar and manages to fix it, and even starts praying to a god he doesn't believe exists. 

that's a pretty big series of events for an alcoholic sociopath - sacrificing himself to save his grandson and relying on a religion he openly mocks not long afterward. all within a minute and a half. when rick's backed into a corner like he was here, we get to see how he really reacts to dire situations. there's no sarcastic filter.

* SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2, EPISODE 2 - "AUTO EROTIC ASSIMILATION" *

we all know by now that the title of this episode is nothing to be fooled by. for anyone that's already watched this, you know i'm talking about the ending.

admit it. you cried. 

I KNOW I FUCKIN DID.

i can honestly really sum up this ending in one word - human. it's very, VERY hard to portray mental illness - particularly depression and suicide - well in any fictional character, since you have to keep in mind that not everyone understands what it feels like to want to end your own life. it's a harrowing situation that many people (unfortunately) find themselves in, and rick ends up being one of them.

it's not just a bad breakup with unity that's behind rick's suicide attempt, though; to me, this is a culmination of everything that's happened to him so far. losing his wife, disconnecting from his family for 20 years, constantly being told by a certain someone (lookin at you jerry with your fuckin weed whacker) that he's out of place and doesn't belong where he is, just when he's finally trying to reconnect with his own daughter... it all builds up, whether he shows it or not. and this is the manifestation of that. 

and on a more personal note: referring back to what i said on the whole "not knowing what it feels like to be suicidal", i've been there. whether i like to admit it or not. and i can honestly say that this is the best portrayal (that i've seen) of what that feels like. you don't give a shit about anything anymore, and you're pretty sure no one gives a shit about you, so you may as well just end it all and get it over and done with.

(as a little bonus, dan harmon said in this episode's commentary that he believes that orange liquid rick drank "synchronises all of your possible versions". this means that when rick drank that liquid, there are no other possibilities of him surviving. if rick kills himself here, that's it. he's gone. 

........yeah.)

* SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, EPISODE 5 - "MEESEEKS AND DESTROY" *

the last moment that came to mind for me when making this was the whole situation with mr. jellybean. poor morty, though - that kid's gotta be scarred for life. D:

this moment was probably the one where i realised how good of a character rick really is. when morty comes out of that bathroom, the kid sounds depressed. all he wants to do is go home, and he even grabs rick's portal gun out of his lab coat before rick really has a chance to react. it all ends up with poor morty basically crying and begging to go home, but THIS is when mr. jellybean walks out of the bathroom.

the look on rick's face says it all. you don't even have to have him say anything to figure out what's going through his head. regardless of the show’s art style- which is pretty crude - the emotions say all that needs to be said. even though morty didn't give him any details on the situation, rick is MORE than smart enough to put two and two together. rick's admitted it before that if you mess with his family, you pay for it.

mr. jellybean has fucked up. big time.

(also can we talk about how rick does his absolute best to cheer morty up immediately afterward? like?? grandfather of the year award anyone????)

the best part about all of this though? when rick and morty arrive back in the little fantasy village, it turns out mr jellybean's now the king of said village, and one of the villagers wants rick and morty to meet them and receive his thanks. when morty raises a white flag, rick doesn't question it - they open a portal and leave immediately.

...and then mr jellybean gets blown up by one of rick's guns when he reopens the portal.

revenge is always sweet. :D

(now if we can just put tammy in the same situation I THINK WE'D ALL BE HAPPY)

to summarize my ramblings here, rick is a very deep, multilayered character. even though he comes across as sociopathic, possibly a little bit insane and a huge dick to the people around him, there's a hell of a lot more to him than that. whether it seems like it or not, rick does care about his family. and the guy's been through a lot of shit to say the least - like any normal human being, he doesn't get out of that unscathed, and that leads to his depression and alcoholism.

not gonna lie, i don't normally like catchphrases for characters, but rick's is a stellar example of a catchphrase done right. in the final episode of season one, we learn from birdperson (rip in spaghettis D,:) that rick's catchphrase, "wubba lubba dub dub", actually means "i am in great pain, please help me" in birdperson's language. that catchphrase sums up rick as a whole - it appears wacky and entirely nonsensical on the surface, but there's a lot more going on than meets the eye.

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #158

 VM 3x05 President Evil

Stray thoughts

1) This episode is a huge disappointment, and I’ll tell you why: the episode’s title is totally misleading. Like, I was 100% expecting zombies? Zombie presidents, more precisely. Rob Thomas, you sit on a throne of lies.

2) I love how all the students in Landry’s class groan when Tim announces he’s taking over the class for the day. It’s a small character moment, one that definitely goes unnoticed the first time watching the show and which acquires meaning in hindsight, once you really know who Tim actually is and what he did. The fact that the students groan at the fact that they’re stuck with him is very telling of what kind of person he is. Like, I don’t know about you, but if I were stuck with the TA for the day I’d be glad because it would mean a much more chill class and not that much work, you know? In this case, however, the students’ reaction clearly shows that Tim was way worse than the head professor, and he was merely the TA. So we can draw a lot of conclusions about his personality traits, which are coherent with his actions and with his ultimate downfall. He’s definitely a person who takes his job way too seriously in a way that usually makes things worse for everyone involved. He’s power-hungry and revels in having the tiniest bit of power and authority and takes it way too far. He wants to climb up the career ladder, he definitely has a disproportionate sense of entitlement and he craves recognition. That’s why he feels the need to brag when he commits what he thinks is the perfect crime, which leads to Veronica realizing what he’d done. This is why Rob Thomas is such a good writer, you know? He does a pretty similar thing with Mercer in this same episode: a small yet telling character moment, something that can be so easily overlooked because it seems so irrelevant and it doesn’t have “SIGNIFICANT CHARACTER MOMENT” written all over it but once all the mysteries are revealed that tiny moment makes so much sense. It’s a pretty good lesson in writing, if you ask me. (yes, I’m aware nobody asked me or cares.)

3) This moment always makes me feel a bit uncomfortable?

It’s kind of diminishing to use Eli as a case study, especially because she’s so clinical when she’s describing his life? Like, he’s an actual person and he’s standing right there and you’re talking about him as if he were this abstract thing, like a statistic or something? And also, he’s your friend? So, if you’ve come to any conclusions regarding the “socioeconomic conditions that lead preteens into a life of crime”, maybe talk them over with him over coffee or something? And yes, I am aware that Weevil willingly agreed to participate in this show-and-tell, but it still feels like she’s taking advantage of him? Which, granted, is pretty in character for Veronica, but it still feels so crappy of her to do this. 

4) Look who’s here!

5) Also, this moment: 

WEEVIL: I'm trying. I really am. But truth? I- Yeah, I miss it. I miss having cash in my pocket. I miss the thrill.

Cut to Veronica’s reaction:

Veronica shakes her head in an “Oh, Weevil...” kind of way, and smiles. She seems to be entertained by and kind of proud of his statement, yet the first time she has the chance, she will use this confession against him... 

6) Then, there’s this exchange:

WEEVIL: Hey, word to the wise. You got a boyfriend? Use the short leash. VERONICA: As hard as this may be to believe, the women of Hearst aren't close to the top of my worries about Logan. WEEVIL: Wait, wait, wait. What? You're dating Logan again? After the way he treated Lilly? VERONICA: This is news? Man, the prison grapevine blows.

On the one hand, it seems kind of odd that after finding out who Lily’s killer was Weevil still believes that the person harming her was Logan instead of Aaron. I don’t really know if Lily had fed him lies about Logan - which could’ve totally happened, if you ask me - or if she had blamed Logan for bruises that Aaron was responsible for just because she didn’t want to reveal she was sleeping with someone else other than Logan and Weevil. Either way, Weevil should’ve started questioning everything Lily had told him after finding out about her affair with Aaron, you know? On the other hand, it kind of makes sense that he wouldn’t question the things Lily had told him. We know he was pretty much head over heels in love with her, and just like Veronica, he had put her on a pedestal. And I think he couldn’t or wouldn’t reconcile that idolized image he had of her with the reality (pretty much like Veronica, if you ask me.) Lily was, after all, a secretive and manipulative girl. 

Then, there’s Veronica’s reaction to his question. She doesn’t bat an eyelid when he makes reference to Logan having treated Lily badly. In fact, she doesn’t even acknowledge that part of the question. But more importantly, she doesn’t set him straight? Which begs the question, why wouldn’t she want Weevil to know that Logan didn’t treat Lily badly? Why didn’t she tell him that it was pretty much the other way around? 

Food for thought, I guess.

7) Veronica looks extra cute in this outfit, love it.

8) Ok, this is the small yet significant Mercer moment I was talking about...

JIMMY CARTER: You! Give me the cashbox? It's in the drawer behind you. Now! The combination! MERCER: You seem highly intelligent and motivated. Figure it out. JIMMY CARTER: The combination or you're gonna have to find someone new to deal the blackjack, man. (Carter was pointing the gun at the boy and then he slapped him harshly.)

First of all, there’s the costume. I mean, could there be a more fitting costume for Mercer than A Clockwork Orange’s Alex de Large? Seriously! Then, there’s his defiant attitude in a highly dangerous situation. He’s not used to being told what to do, it’s always him ordering people around and he really really wants to tell Jimmy Carter to fuck off. Even when the thief points the gun at the other boy and smacks him around, Mercer still takes his sweet time before doing what he was told. A normal person would probably comply immediately when someone’s life is at risk, you know? Not Mercer. There’s an utter disregard for other people’s wellbeing. He doesn’t really care, and it’s almost like he has to force himself to act unnaturally and pretend like he gives a damn if anyone in that room lives or dies. Kudos again to Rob’s writing. 

9) 

This is not a threat nor a promise. It’s a fact. There is absolutely no doubt that Veronica will get that necklace back and that she will make this dude pay.  I love how as he’s taking the necklace she’s already anticipating her sweet revenge and she can’t help but smile because she knows she will do everything in her power to crush him. Because making justice is not enough for Veronica, she has to have some payback as well... 

10) It’s The Dude!!

11) Okay, I’ve just noticed this parallel with the movie...

VERONICA: Where were you? LOGAN: I was in class, like we talked about. Less gambling, more learning. That was right after you said "jump" and I asked "how high?"

12) Boy, was this awkward...

And like, you’ve just used the boy to get a good grade, you’ve seen how hard he’s working to stay on the right track, and now you’re using his past against him to blame him for something you really don’t know he’s guilty of. Like, she made a lot of assumptions here, and she thought she had solved the case only based on a few conversations with Weevil, she hadn’t done any sleuthing whatsoever that could paint him as a suspect yet. And just like that, she was yet another person that assumed he couldn’t be anything but a thief because of his past. And if everyone assumes the worst of you, even your closest friends, no matter how hard you try, you might as well prove them right you know? 

She even made fun of the place he was living in (” Hope you don't mind. One of the cockroaches let me in.”) Like, how crappy is that? 

13) And then...

WEEVIL: It's a wonder you don't have more friends.

She has the nerve to look affronted by this, but she has not witty comeback because she knows he’s right. He truly is. 

14) Ugh this moment...

WEEVIL: Are you lining up your next girlfriend? Hmm?

Logan is visibly uncomfortable, as he should be, and he’s speechless because he knows he’s been caught. There’s no doubt in my mind that Logan was flirting with that girl and giving her his number. I don’t know if he took things any further, though I highly doubt it. Either way, what’s certain is that the writers wanted us and Veronica to doubt him. In that sense, mission accomplished. Logan’s behavior was dubious at best. But like, it’s completely out of character? We’ve seen Logan single, and we’ve seen Logan in a relationship, and while he may have other flaws when he’s someone’s boyfriend, he was never a cheater. He is, in fact, loyal to a fault. Especially when it comes to Veronica. And how could the same people who wrote loving, loyal Logan write him in this way now? Even if it was done to set up their breakup or whatever, that’s just not who he is. That’s not who you’ve shown us he is. The thing is, they could’ve written distrustful, paranoid Veronica without making us believe she could be right. In fact, it’s more interesting to see her spiral out of control when we know she’s wrong. Because, let’s be real, Veronica can make herself believe anything without having evidence to prove it, especially when it comes to distrusting Logan...

15) I like this moment...

VERONICA: So, when I look into this, and I will look into this, I'm gonna find out you didn't order that pizza? WEEVIL: Or you could just save yourself the trouble and take my word for it.

16) The boy fangirling over meeting Veronica is basically every marshmallow ever.

VERONICA: Hi, I'm looking for the manager. He or she around? DANNY: You're Veronica Mars. VERONICA: And you're… Danny. DANNY: Rossow. Yeah, I am. Cool. You went to my school last year. I go to Neptune High. VERONICA: Lucky you. DANNY: You remember when those bikers taped that guy up to the flagpole and you just walked up there and cut him down? VERONICA: Yeah. Listen- DANNY: Remember when you stopped those guys from blowing up the school? VERONICA: No one was gonna blow up the school. So, what I was going to- DANNY: On the last day, I really wanted you to sign my yearbook.

And he’s super into it when Veronica suggests he should help her out to solve the case...

He was really sweet, okay? And although she was admittedly not overly friendly at the beginning, she was kind of impressed and delighted with his impression of his boss. And now I kind of wish he would’ve become a recurring character. The fanboy who’s also very helpful. 

17) Okay, but let’s be real: this girl was a mini-Veronica... (because - spoiler alert - Veronica is kind of an asshole...)

VERONICA: Hi. Any idea how this gum got from your mouth to that chair?

18) Keith has no right to lecture Veronica when she’s sassy with authority figures, right? I mean...

SANCHEZ: You presented yourself as an Adrian Monk... A Los Angeles County Building Inspector? And I believe that's your cell phone number written on it? KEITH: And? SANCHEZ: Sir, the apartment complex manager that you handed that to says you ordered him to let you into the apartment of a one Steven Batando. KEITH: Ordered? Asked politely, maybe.

Ok, so he broke the law, he was caught, and he mocks those who caught him? Like father, like daughter.

19) 

LAMB: Batando's been missing for fifty-two hours. Guess what, Keith? You're the leading suspect in his disappearance.

Not so much with the jokey-jokes now, eh Keith? 

20) Okay, I know I didn´t mention anything about the case Keith was working on, but it’s all sorts of creepy and wrong? So, the dean’s stepson has bone cancer and he hires Keith to track the kid’s deadbeat dad because he’s a match for the bone marrow transplant. They trick the guy into a fake audition so that the dean and his wife can gang up on him and convince him to donate his bone marrow to his son. It was all already quite gray at this point. When he doesn’t agree to do it, they kidnap him, take him to Mexico and have him have surgery on and his bone marrow taken... Like, I get it, your kid is dying, but not only is this wrong but also illegal? And then, the writers sort of want us to think the dean and his wife weren’t really wrong because they could buy the guy off with a car? So, like, that makes him the villain then? Yeah, NO.

21) 

JENNY: Our stage is covered in Pam. VERONICA: Who's Pam? ORGON: Pam is a cooking spray. We can't walk out there without falling on our asses. We had the temerity to schedule our opening night on the same weekend as their short film festival. VERONICA: Maybe this is their way of saying break a leg.

22) And look who’s here... hey, Max!

Also: bad Wallace. Bad, bad Wallace.

23) Okay, not only did Wallace cheat, but he wasn’t very good at it? I mean, obviously, he was caught. But also, rule number one of cheating: DO NOT HAND IN YOUR EXAM EARLY. 

Especially not when you’ve been getting crappy grades in the class...

24) See what I mean? She is not content with just serving justice, she has to completely humiliate the dude. Which, okay, serves him right on account of being a criminal and all. 

25) This moment is so satisfying, though:

Also, the music on this show is always so spot on. I love how Johnny Cash’s “Busted” plays over the montage of Veronica getting the necklace back, Wallace being summoned by his professor and Weevil being released from jail.

26) ICONIC

[theseventhhex]

MEAT WAVE Interview

MEAT WAVE

MEAT WAVE is part of the new wave of the impressive punk rock scene in Chicago. This trio’s new album, ‘The Incessant’, continues to excitingly deliver what we’ve become accustomed to from the skilled outfit: intense and cold riffs, coupled with stretched bass lines and a compelling vocal delivery. A more personal record, however, Chris Sutter puts a lot of himself on the line, writing more about the anxieties and emotions he faces on a daily basis, subtly blending self-criticism and black humour. With a penchant for delivering pulsating live shows and a growing recognition on the punk rock scene, MEAT WAVE is definitely ready to break the nail in 2017… We talk to Chris Sutter about being more truthful, shifting his vocal style and the Chicago Bulls…

TSH: During the lead up to ‘The Incessant’, what was the band’s level of focus like?

Chris: It felt like we were breaking new ground. We worked a lot harder than we ever had. It just takes time. And after years of playing with each other at this point, I think the end-goal or shape of the project became more and more obvious. There’s songs on there like ‘Birdland’, that were completely different. Where we’re usually chugging along and trying to be very loud and intense, on that song we were trying to play as quiet as we possibly could, which again, just took a lot of time. I think we were more careful with the songs as well. Revision is good. Just keep shaving it down until it’s where you want it to be.

TSH: Can you sum up the natural compulsions that you were drawn towards for this body of work?

Chris: The desire to be truthful to myself, and about myself. I was talking to my friend Adam last night; he was basically saying “I’m on a truth kick. There are things that you might not want to share with someone new you’re seeing, or a new friend, but something had come up and I told her the truth, and she responded in the opposite way I thought she would. It was so rewarding and empowering.” That was the optimistic impetus to making a record like this. Opening up to many people that you don’t know, but hoping that it will feel good or that it could resonate with someone. Aside from that, using writing as a tool. Using it more constructively. I’ve written a lot of bullshit, a lot of stuff that didn’t mean nearly as much to me. So by delving into my life and issues I’d had, I was able to both make music and self-improve.

TSH: Was it also a pre-discussed idea to have aspects of juxtaposition within the record?

Chris: Juxtaposition is part of our band’s DNA, I think. It keeps things interesting and presents things that weren’t necessarily there in the first place. At this point, our sensibilities are aligned enough to where we’re all kind of looking for the right balance, sweet and sour.

TSH: With this record you wrote about characteristics of delusion - was it liberating to have less masking with the lyrics?

Chris: It was liberating. It also produced a lot of self-doubt, and self-consciousness. I could understand why people wouldn’t like the record. It’s really heavy. Not in a macho way, but in an emotional way. I had a friend tell me he felt like he was decomposing whilst listening to the last half of it. Which is funny, but also wasn’t necessarily my goal. I was making it for me. And now that it’s out, I can do other shit. The album feels very of its time. It maybe feels more liberating to have it out of my hands and let other people have it. I’ve spent enough time with it.

TSH: You’ve stated the biggest challenge was being vulnerable and brutally honest – how did this allow you to excel with this body of work?

Chris: I think it’s a record about anxiety that sounds like anxiety. To have the opportunity to soundtrack a sensation like shame, or confusion, or loss was very different and eye opening. It gave me a new appreciation for music and what it’s capable of. Not to be too cheesy or anything.

TSH: Can you tell us more about the last track ‘Killing The Incessant’ embodying a feeling of what the album sonically feels like to you?

Chris: “Killing” came really late; it might have been the last song we wrote for the record. There came a point where the concept was fully formed, but I began to wonder what the incessant, as a feeling or emotion, sounded like. It feels very oncoming, very out-of-control. So that’s how the crescendo came about. I think it’s the culmination of everything you’d just heard. It’s a battle for catharsis.

TSH: What sort of ideas do you draw on to pen a track like ‘Glass Teeth’?

Chris: The idea of actually having glass teeth spoke to me, because I was having trouble communicating with people. It’s basically a fear of confrontation. I don’t want these things to shatter on me, so I’m just going to keep my mouth shut. That song is also just kind of a slap in my own face, trying to convince myself that I can speak up and to stop fucking around.

TSH: Many media outlets have heaped praise on your vocals throughout ‘The Incessant’ – how would you assess the contrast and shift with your vocal delivery?

Chris: On this record, in particular, I feel like I sound like myself. Like the way I speak. It feels a bit more human to me. On the other records, my voice sounds a little contrived in my opinion. I think it just stems from writing these songs that were real as hell, and being able to speak with more conviction.

TSH: How do you keep your mindest fresh during extensive touring?

Chris: I find that sleeping well makes everything better. Joe and I play Words with friends. On the last tour, I started reading “White Noise,” which friends have told me is a life-changer. We love bringing friends to help sell merch or tour manage. That always makes it so much better, to have someone who’s not as invested as the three of us.

TSH: Which cities/landmarks would you say have piqued your interest and resonated with you most on your travels?

Chris: We just spent a nice amount of time in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh. Those are both really nice, different cities. The West Coast, specifically the Northwest is so serene for me. Every time I go there it just feels really right. The landscape just feels like another world in relation to where we’re from. Also, Reykjavik, Iceland, Prague and the Netherlands - we’ve been super lucky to go to so many amazing places.

TSH: Is the constant reminder that there is no right way or one way to do this a key piece of advice for you?

Chris: Yes, it is. Sometimes it’s hard to subscribe to though. Being in a band is a mind fuck. But as long as we’re really into what we’re doing, then yes, there is no right or wrong way. Mostly I have to get off of the fucking internet and make music. That helps.

TSH: Does it still concern you that so many people are driven by convention over passion?

Chris: I don’t know. I guess whatever makes you happy, do it. Sometimes I wonder if I should just try to work. Start a career. Music is my passion, and sometimes it feels really dumb. But I can’t stop. I’m ultimately super lucky. The three of us are lucky to have jobs when we come home too, so it’s kind of the best of both worlds. It is a shame though to see people not following their creative passions because they feel they’re expected down this other path. Follow what makes you happy, creative and free.

TSH: Who are you top three Chicago athletes of all time?

Chris: Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman. The Golden era of the Chicago Bulls, baby.

TSH: Does Ryan still DJ when he gets drunk?

Chris: Ryan is a backseater in the van, but if it’s after a show and he’s feeling it, he’s gunning for the front seat and that aux cable.

TSH: Was your hostel visit to Prague and being served vodka shots upon arrival one of the standout tour moments you’ve had?

Chris: Ha! Yes, that was amazing. You’ve done your research. Yeah, we had a couple days off in Prague the last time we were in Europe and when we were checking into our hostel, the lady at the desk asked if we wanted our complimentary shots of vodka. Meanwhile, she had all of our passports, so we were like, is she going to poison us? But it was so amazing. That night we went to a place called Bar 69 and drank dollar beers all night. Shout out to Bar 69.

TSH: Talk us through the following tweet… ‘There's some fake news circulating that Tomosaki is based on a Japanese adult film actress. It was the nickname of my cat. SAD!’

Chris: There was a really lazy review of the album when it came out that said “Tomosaki” was written about a Japanese film actress, and it was like “even considering the genre, that’s bold!” It just pissed me off. I shouldn’t read the reviews. But that song is actually about losing a cat that I love in a breakup. SAD!

TSH: What’s the Meat Wave ethos as you look ahead?

Chris: We want to play everywhere. Just keep doing it. We want to evolve and do different shit. I want to raise money for marginalised groups and organisations. Music is powerful.

MEAT WAVE - “Run You Out”

The Incessant

[martha-hudders]

Warning, this starts off alright but turns into a rambling mess about halfway through.

After watching The Lying Detective, I have not been able to get this one part off of my mind. I’ve been replaying it constantly in my head for the last 24 hours and I’ve decided that I need to talk about it. This is not a meta. This is not a theory. This is not for attention or notes. This is not for my ~35 followers. This is for me. If you’re not interested, keep scrolling. I need to vent, and considering I don’t know many people on here in person (and trust those who I do), this feels like my only option to voice what I’m feeling in the way that I need to. I need to talk about why Sherlock’s behavior when “Faith” came to 221B affected me so much. I’m going to refer to Eurus in this post as Faith and speak under the pretense that she is who she claims to be. The reason I’m making this post at all is because of Sherlock’s genuine reaction, and in order for me to convey its legitimacy, I need to see her as the person Sherlock thought she was.

The first time we see Sherlock in this episode is when Faith comes to his apartment with the incomplete knowledge of what her father is planning to do. Sherlock is obviously fucked up. He’s high out of his mind and he’s turned his kitchen into a meth lab, not giving two shits about what the drugs he’s taking can and will do to him. He’s self destructing. When it comes to his deductions, normally they are very objective. He observes and draws conclusions based on what he learned. However, with Faith, it feels different. Every deduction he makes seems to lead to one conclusion: that she is suicidal. He intentionally looks for the signs. He knows the signs. He saw them in John the night they met and he sees them in himself, now more than ever, since John has cut him out of his life. His drug-addled brain gets in the way of him immediately putting everything together, but as soon as he realizes what is happening, he freaks out. He can’t let her kill herself. He needs to stop her.

Seeing Faith walking out the door, on her way to commit suicide, obviously strikes a chord within Sherlock. This type of reaction is unlike anything we’ve seen from him thus far. Maybe it was because it reminds him of his own pain. Surely it was because it reminds him of John from all those years ago. We’re given that parallel through the quick flashback. Likely it reminds him of both of them. He knows the pain of being suicidal. He’s both seen it and experienced it. The raw emotion in his voice as he deduces that she self-harms and then that she has a gun is what really broke me, and everything from that point until after he throws her gun in the Thames and hallucinates his way back to Baker Street is what I cannot get out of my head.

In the last year and a half, I’ve struggled with my mental health. I haven’t been diagnosed with depression or anxiety or anything. I haven’t abused drugs or even used any recreationally. I don’t think I would have considered myself suicidal at any point, although I do think about it. When I say that though, I make a distinction between thinking about suicide and considering suicide. I know that I don’t want to die, and I am not planning to take my own life. But that doesn’t mean the idea of it doesn’t cross my mind. However, I have struggled with self-harm. The worst of it was last spring, but it still happens occasionally. I’m not proud of it. My last three relationships ended badly. Two of my exes have completely cut me out of their lives and the most recent admitted to cheating on me. He was my best friend. For months before we started dating, he was one of the only people I fully trusted. He was one of few people who was there for me when I was broken up with via text. Most importantly, I could completely be myself around him. I didn’t feel like I had to hide anything or give up what was important to me. Once we finally started dating, it felt so real. He made it clear that he felt the same way too. Even though we were technically only together for a few months, it felt like so much more than that. But college happened, and he found someone who he saw every day who apparently meant more to him than I did. I really did love him. The night he broke up with me, I could not sleep. Every time I would start to drift off I would end up in a dream where I was in the process of hanging myself and it would scare me awake again. That was two months ago, and although I wouldn’t say I’ve moved on, I’m not in that state anymore. I talk to a therapist so I feel like I kind of have a handle on things.

Seeing Sherlock get that upset over Faith’s suicidal behavior was something I needed. I needed to see that he cared. I never doubted he did, but seeing it play out in that way was so powerful for me. Sherlock’s weakness is his emotions. He thinks it’s a weakness, anyway. He solves cases because they give him a reason to take an objective stance. He thinks he can shut down his emotions and therefore not get hurt. But he is human. As John put it, he is the most human human being. This scene proved that to me. Sherlock tries to delegitimize his emotions because he knows how powerful it is to feel. When John left him in that way, it was too much. He wants to ignore his emotions but he can’t. He takes an insane amount of drugs but he’s just an emotional mess. He can’t handle the loss of John, whom he loves fiercely. Losing the people you love fucking sucks. It’s the worst feeling. Drugs to Sherlock are like self-harm was, and still sometimes is, to me. In varying degrees, granted, but seeing him recognize self-destruction was so important. He knows it’s real and he knows it’s dangerous. I often delegitimize my pain because I can’t put a label on it. I’m not depressed, I’m not suicidal, I’m not an addict, my biggest problems have been fucking breakups for Pete’s sake. So when something hurts, I feel like there isn’t a reason for it to hurt. I try to place myself on a spectrum. My problems are worse than ______ but not as bad as _____, but this gets me nowhere. Pain is relative, and everyone feels it, even Sherlock Holmes, the high-functioning, highly-emotional, not-a-sociopath.