#(i mean it might be for someone living alone but i got rent aid for being disabled + parents' help so.)

[daz4i]

once i'm able to do phone calls without having 3 panic attacks beforehand you'll see. you'll all see

[khaleesiofalicante]

MALEC WEEK - THE ORIGINS

“I once read that vampires who got bit by werewolves have male pattern baldness,” Jace shared matter of factly.

Simon gave a whimper from the couch.

“Jace, stop it!” Clary warned.

“Enough with the chatting!” Magnus scolded. “Get over here and be useful!”

Clary gave Simon’s hand a squeeze and walked up to him, with Jace right behind her.

“I’m working on a different potion,” Magnus informed them. “You see, I’m responsible for all of New York - not just you people! So, you will have to assist me with the antidote for the bite.”

“How can we help, Magnus?” Clary asked, the only one who seemed to be interested in helping.

“Watch over the antidote,” he told her. “It should remain liquid. Don’t let it thicken. You need to keep stirring.”

The red head nodded and got to working. 

“You!” He passed a bowl of flowers to the blonde one. “Pluck the petals.”

“Uh, can’t you do that with your magic?” The blonde boy asked.

“I can,” Magnus replied. “But you seem to have two perfectly capable hands.”

Jonathan – or Jace as they called him – muttered something and started plucking at the flower.

Magnus technically didn’t need the flowers for this particular potion, but he figured the boy would get all agitated if he didn’t have anything to do. And he didn’t want any agitated Nephilim in his apartment. 

Isabelle Lightwood was standing near the window, keeping guard. The vampire was sprawled on the couch – playing with Magnus’ cat.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” Jace demanded, pointing his chin at the vampire.

“Because I’m injured,” Simon replied incredulously.

“But you’re already dead!” Jace pointed out.

“And we are trying to keep me from getting any dead-er!”

“You’re not going to die from a scra-”

“Enough squabbling!” Magnus scolded them again. “I need to focus here. Clary, how is the potion coming?”

“There are bubbles,” Clary said nervously. “Are there supposed to be bubbles?”

“That’s good. Keep stirring,” Magnus encouraged her. “It will be ready in another couple of minutes.”

“I’ll just hang out here till then,” Simon waved from the couch, getting paler by the second.

The vampire had been scratched by a werewolf earlier while trying to aid the Nephilim. It wasn’t lethal, but Magnus knew from experience that it would get ugly if not treated immediately.  

Luckily, there was a potion to treat werewolves bites on vampires.

Magnus didn’t know how he had gotten himself tangled into this mess to be honest.

But when the shadowhunters had turned up at his doorstep asking for his help, he didn’t have the heart to turn them away.

Magnus wondered if there was a potion to cure his pathological need to help shadowhunters.

“Gross! what is that smell?” Isabelle groaned from the window.

“It’s a love potion I’m working on,” Magnus replied, trying not to take it personally.

“How is that supposed to make anyone fall in love?” Jace asked, scrunching up his nose.

“It will go away in a moment,” Magnus rolled his eyes. “And then it will smell very, very different.”

“How different?” Clary asked curiously.

“Well, it’s supposed to smell of something you associate with the person you love the most,” Magnus answered.

“Really?” Simon asked from the couch. “Like in Harry Potter?”

“Something like that,” Magnus winked. “It could smell like a place or a person or even food. For Jace, it might smell like himself.”

“You would think I’d be offended by that,” Jace grinned. “But honestly, who wouldn’t love all of this?”

They all rolled their eyes then.

“What is it for?” Isabelle asked suspiciously. “Or rather – who is it for?”

“For a client,” Magnus replied. “I do need to pay rent, my dear.”

“I thought you own the entire building,” Clary frowned.

“Fine, but I do have other expenses,” Magnus conceded. “As you can see, I’ve grown accustomed to a specific lifestyle.”

Isabelle abandoned her post at the window and moved towards Magnus. “Does it really work?”

“I don’t sell counterfeit goods,” Magnus said indignantly. “But the potion does have limits. You see, the smell can change. People don’t always love the same thing all the time. It only smells like what you love in the present. What’s most important to you right now.”

Isabelle moved closer cautiously and sniffed the cauldron. “It smells like…popcorn?”

Jace laughed. “Is that what you love the most right now? Popcorn?”

Isabelle glared at him. “It’s some weird smell. Like popcorn – but I’m also get a hint of cheese and paprika and-”

“Oh my god, that’s the popcorn they make at the cinema!” Simon pointed out loudly, practically salivating. “It’s so good. The secret is extra cheese!”

Isabelle looked from Simon to the potion and to Simon again.

“Your potion is broken,” she hissed at Magnus and settled down next to Simon on the couch.

Magnus grinned to himself.

“I want to try,” Jace was next to him in a moment. “Maybe I’ll smell bubblegum or pepperoni pizz-”

His expressed shifted immediately. “It smells like coal.”

Magnus glanced at Clary, who was focusing on stirring the antidote.

“You mean the kind of thing people use for sketching?” Magnus asked suggestively.

“Not a word, Bane,” Jace said threateningly, but Magnus heard the softness in his voice.

He simply shrugged and kept on working on the potion. He felt a shift in the wards and the door opened a moment later.

Magnus hoped the others couldn’t hear the way his heart started beating loudly. Not because he wanted to hide his feelings – but it was a little embarrassing to be honest.

Magnus had never fallen this hard this fast.

He had always hoped it would happen for him someday. But he had also hoped that it would be with someone who loved him back.

The boy scanned the loft to make sure everyone was there – and everyone was okay. His eyes passed Isabelle and Jace with a breath of relief and then onto Simon and Clary with fond exasperation.

Then they landed on Magnus – and he immediately looked away.

Alec Lightwood looked away – and not for the first time.

Magnus was used to people looking away.

Most people looked at Magnus as he were a sin.

But this one, this one was different.

Alec Lightwood looked at him as if the mere act of looking at Magnus was a sin itself.

Either way, Magnus couldn’t look away.

“Did you get the final ingredient?” Clary asked, breaking Magnus’ depressive inner monologue.

Alec silently passed her a vial, his eyes still avoiding Magnus.

The worst part was that Magnus didn’t know. He didn’t know whether Alec didn’t want to look or just couldn’t.

He knew that it might never happen for them. It wasn’t like they could be together or get married or live happily ever after.

Magnus wasn’t destined to have that with anyone – let alone a shadowhunter whose last name was Lightwood.

But just knowing…just knowing the fact that Alec felt something for him would be enough.

Or so he told himself.

“Magnus?” Clary called, her voice worried.

“Yes?” Magnus asked, putting on a smile.

“Do I put this in?” she asked, pointing at the vial.

“Yes!” Magnus came back to reality. “Put it in and give it to Simon. Now! Watch over him. Make sure he doesn’t throw up.”

Clary didn’t waste another second. She did as she was told – which was rare for Clary and even rarer for a Shadowhunter.

She ran towards Simon, who seemed to be passed out on Isabelle’s lap. Jace followed the girl, and they carefully helped the vampire drink the potion.

“What are you doing?”

Magnus looked up at the voice and swallowed.

“Just making a potion,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I thought you were making shampoo or something,” Alec replied. “It smells like sandalwood.”

Magnus dropped the ladle.  

He grabbed Alec’s wrist and dragged him to the bedroom.

“Magnus, what are yo-”

“You like me.”

It almost sounded like an accusation. Almost.

Alec looked startled and but when back to his usual stoic self immediately. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“That was a love potion,” Magnus explained. “It’s supposed to smell like something you associate with the thing you love the most.”

Alec looked flabbergasted. “Your potion is lying.”

“Potions don’t lie,” Magnus said calmly. “Only people do.”

“Alright, so what?” Alec demanded. “Maybe my mom uses sandalwood shampoo. Am I not allowed to love my mother?”

“Then what about what I smelled?” Magnus demanded. “You can do it all you want. But I’m not going to lie to myself.”

Alec looked briefly startled but then shrugged. “Maybe there is something wrong with the potion. You must have messed up an ingredient.”

Magnus pinched his nose in frustration. “Why? Why do you keep hiding?”

A look of incredulity passed Alec’s face. “Do you really have to ask?”

Magnus knew this was the closest he would get to an admission. He didn’t want to push it.

“Fine,” he replied, turning around. “Leave.”

He didn’t hear footsteps. But then again Nephilim were extremely quiet on their feet – not so much with their mouths though.

Magnus turned around. But Alec was still standing there.

Awkward and unsure.

But he was still standing there. That counted for something, right?

Sometimes Magnus hated himself when his heart did this. When his heart held on to hope his body couldn’t handle.

“What did you smell?”

Alec’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

It was extremely rare to hear fear in a Shadowhunter’s voice. Maybe it was a good thing because Magnus didn’t like the sound of it.

“You should go,” Magnus said. “Be with your friends.”

“What did you smell?”

The awkwardness and uncertainly had disappeared like the morning mist. He was standing there in front of him – stubborn and strong willed.

“I didn’t smell anything,” Magnus lied.

Alec moved closer, his body inches away from Magnus’ own.

“What did you smell?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Magnus replied. “It’s not going to change anything.”

“Magnus.”

He looked up at the sound – his own name sounded alien to his ears.

Alec didn’t say his name like it was just another word. He said it like it was a prayer.

“What did you smell?”

“Gardenia.”

Alec back away in shock. “I…I have one next to the windo…How do you know what’s in my room?”

“I don’t know what’s in your room,” Magnus said. “I only what’s in my heart. And that’s you.”

Alec took a shuddering breath.

“I thought it was just me,” Magnus confessed quietly. “I thought you didn’t care and then the poti-”

“You thought I didn’t care?” Alec sounded offended – even angry.

“I di-”

“Do you even know why I have a stupid gardenia plant in my room?” Alec was definitely angry.

“Because they smell good?” Magnus asked dryly.

Alec grabbed his wrist and yanked him towards the window.

And there it was. Gardenia.

Magnus had completely forgotten the fact that there were gardenia bushes in his balcony. They looked lovely. They smelled beautiful.

“I know this is what you see when you wake up,” Alec said, his voice quiet. “I thought if I had some in my room…It might be like we were in the same room. I could pretend like you were next to me. That we were next to each other. That we woke up together. Went to sleep together.”

Magnus wanted to reach out. But the fear of Alec pulling back was bigger than the need to hold him and tell him it was okay.  

“All I have is a stupid plant,” Alec confessed. “It’s all I can afford to have.”

“Alec-”

“I know it’s stupid,” Alec interrupted.

“It’s not stupid,” Magnus said softly. “It’s sweet. But don’t you want more?”

“What I want and what I can have are two different things, Magnus” Alec replied.

“Then what about what you deserve?” Magnus challenged him.

Alec looked up at that – his eyes wandering. “I don’t even know what I deserve.”

And then it made sense.

Alec wasn’t fighting because Alec didn’t know what he was fighting for.

It was hard to want something when you don’t know why you want it in the first place.

Magnus loved the man in front of him with all his heart. But that wasn’t enough, was it?

But Alec had to do that too.

Alec had to love himself. Alec had to choose himself.

Alec needed to realize he deserved better.

There was nothing Magnus could do about that. He just had to wait like any other person – holding onto nothing but hope.

“Figure out,” Magnus said now and left the room. “Come back to me when you figure it out.”

[collecting-stories]

The Arrival - Ep. 01 - JJ Maybank

Summary: The pogues (and Sarah) decide to get away from the Outer Banks for senior week though Sarah’s suggestion that they spend the vacation with a friend of hers doesn’t sit well with JJ, who just wanted a week away with friends. Though his opinion of the situation may change his expectation that nothing will go according to plan is truer than they could have hoped.

A/N: This is a ‘they’re just regular teens and there was no gold hunt’ AU. This will be a 5 part story. 

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

///

“No.” JJ shook his head, “no, no, absolutely not.”  

“Why not?” Sarah asked, looking back at her boyfriend for support. John B quickly looked away, staring out at the marsh in order to avoid the conversation.

“Why not? Because I’m not spending senior week with a bunch of fucking kooks while they prance around like their in some MTV reality show!” JJ stresses, voice raised. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it stuck up all over the place.  

“It might not be so bad,” Kie cut in, regretting it almost immediately when JJ looked over at her, “you said yourself that we’ve done senior week here...let’s do ours somewhere else?”

“Sure. Wherever you want as long as it’s not a trip to kookland.”  

“You are so dramatic, oh my god JJ. Last time I checked you weren’t exactly rolling in it. How do you propose we pay for a week down the beach?” Sarah pointed out.  

“You got money.”

“You shouldn’t even be going! It’s not like you fucking graduated, this is senior week. For graduating seniors.” Sarah waved her hand to indicate her, John B, Kiara, and Pope.  

“Screw you!”

“Guys!” Pope finally intervened, pushing his best friend back, “okay, let’s cool down.”  

“Can we please just go to the keys? I’m sick of wasting my time arguing. If we’re going we need to leave tomorrow morning...early.” Sarah said, looking pointedly at JJ.

“Hey, I’m always on time!”  

Despite his protests JJ was exactly where he said he’d be on Friday morning at 5:30a. Sitting outside John B’s house, on time and with his bag packed for Florida. He was the first one to arrive, followed by Kiara who’d almost been early if it wasn’t for the half hour argument she’d gotten into with her mom for leaving the week after graduation. As if that wasn’t ritual.  

JJ said nothing, unusually quite and still completely pissed that everyone had been so on board with Sarah’s plan to spend Senior Week in Florida with some friend at their grandparents’ vacation home. He wanted a chill holiday, just the four of them (five because John B couldn’t be separated from Sarah) spending every day on the beach. He didn’t want some kook vacation laying around a pool drinking vodka in crystal light and talking about ‘daddy’s credit card’ and whatever dumb shit else they did on their weekends.  

With the Twinkie packed to exploding with teenagers and luggage John B took the first leg of the drive south. JJ spent the trip sitting behind the passenger’s seat, rolling blunts in his lap and ignoring his friends excitement for senior week. When Kiara nudged his leg halfway to Florida and he looked over she smiled sympathetically at him.  

“It might be a good week.” Kiara tried to sound reassuring, knowing that it was JJ’s idea to go away in the first place and that they had in fact hijacked his plans, “at least the change of scenery will be nice?”

“So far the only good thing about this trip is not being home for a week.” JJ replied, refocusing on his task. He would definitely murder one of them if he didn’t spend the week at least somewhat buzzed. If you asked anyone in the obx they’d tell you that JJ was laid back and chill, a go-with-the-flow, weed smoking, kid who would probably never grow out of his ‘it is what it is’ phase. But that wasn’t JJ at all. Sure, he could hit up a kegger at the drop of a hat but he liked a plan and he liked the plan to consider him as an important factor. Not just another nameless sidekick to John B’s summer. And so far, that’s exactly what this senior week was shaping up to become.  

“It’ll be fine dude.” Pope said, voice low so he wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention in the van.  

JJ looked up at him and frowned before nodding. What else could he do but nod and pretend that he agreed with anything that Pope said. They were already halfway to Florida and no one cared about his opinion.  

Sometime after that JJ fell asleep, Kiara taking the same case of blunts from his lap and folding everything up into his backpack. By the time Pope pulled the Twinkie into the horseshoe driveway of a house bigger than Tannyhill, JJ had woken up again, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window.  

“This is the shit I was talking about.” He said.  

Sarah whipped around, hair flying against her shoulders as she glared at him, “for god sake JJ, can you have a good fucking time? Please.”  

John B made a face, pleading with his best friend to chill. All he wanted was a stress free vacation and the fact that Sarah’s friend was willing to let them stay aided his ability to relax. If only it would aid JJ’s.  

You were standing outside on the steps when the bus pulled up, engine cutting in the middle of the horseshoe. Kiara recognized you from school and Pope recognised you from running groceries for his dad. Sarah pulled the door open and jumped out, throwing her arms around your shoulders.  

“Oh my god, you have no idea how much I missed you.” Sarah said, pulling away, “I’m literally gonna kill everyone, starting with JJ.”

“That makes two of us princess.” JJ remarked, glaring at her as he climbed out of bus.  

“Hey,” Kiara called, drawing attention away from JJ and Sarah, “thanks for having us.”  

“Trust me I was just happy to tell Scarlett that her and Kelce couldn’t stay here.” You replied, looking over at JJ, “I’d much rather spend my senior week with you guys.”  

“Flattered.”  

“Hey, you’ve never had to sit around listening to Topper talk about workouts.” You replied, feeling unusually proud of yourself when JJ cracked a smile.  

“Oh come on, you can’t just do a bench press without the proper preparation,” JJ joked, imitating Topper’s ‘bro’ dialect.  

You laughed and nodded, following him to the trunk to help them unload packs. “Hey Pope, my mom said you got that scholarship you were going for?” You mentioned as you grabbed Sarah’s bag.  

“I did yeah,” he smiled, surprised that you knew or remembered anything about it. He definitely considered you better than some of the other kooks on the island but that didn’t make you friends with him. You were just someone he delivered groceries to every once in a while.  

Once the bus was unpacked you led the group inside, beginning the tour of the house. You lived on Figure Eight in the Outer Banks and you had a house as nice as or better than the Camerons’ but this house was even nicer than that. Your grandparents had old money and they had used it to retire to the Florida Keys where they really only spent the winter months.  

“There are four guest bedrooms, you can divy them up however you want to, I’m this bedroom,” you pointed to the closed door behind you at the end of the hall. “The master is off limits, it’s my grandparents and they’ll murder all of you before JJ even gets the chance if you step foot in their room.” You instructed, looking over to JJ as you spoke. He smiled.

“How’ll they know?” He asked, looking down the hall toward the double doors of the master bedroom. This house could fit four of his inside of it. He shifted his weight as he looked around the hallway, the art on the wall looked like something he would have seen on a field trip to a museum, ugly and old but a clear representation of their wealth.  

“There’s a camera in their room.”

“Kinky.”

“Ew, oh my god JJ!” You practically gagged, causing him to laugh as Sarah scrunched up her face at the thought of your grandparents using the camera for anything more than G rated. “Moving on!” You continued through the whole house until you’d looped back around, reminding them again that the beach let out right behind the patio.  

Once the tour was over you pulled Sarah away from John B, telling her that you needed to talk to her alone. And truthfully, you did. You hadn’t been lying when you told her that you had turned Kelce and Scarlett away for the week. Kelce had texted you days before Sarah and asked about ‘all of us’ getting together for senior week at your grandparents. You knew what ‘all of us’ meant. Him, Scarlett, Topper, and (despite having graduated two years earlier), Rafe. If Sarah was still hanging out with them she would’ve been there too. That was the senior week Scarlett had always planned for but there wasn’t anything you wanted less in life than spending time with all your least favorite people.  

While everyone else unpacked you led Sarah into the kitchen, “so, I told you Kelce had texted me about them doing senior week here?”

“Yeah, but they’re not...”

“No,” you shook your head, “no I told them I had a full house. But they are here.”

“What do you mean here?”

“I mean they rented a place down the street. Like we can see their house from this house. Topper texted me this morning before you guys got here.” You fished your phone out of your pocket and showed Sarah the text that Topper had sent along with the picture of you out on your deck.  

“Bit stalkerish.”

“Sarah, not the point.”

“Look, it’s fine,” she replied, trying to play off that maybe she actually believed that it was fine, “they can do their thing and we’ll do ours.”  

“Yeah, that would totally be fine. Except your brother is here too.”  

Sarah groaned, “fuck.”

“What’s the matter?”  

You and Sarah turned to find John B and JJ coming into the kitchen, the latter going straight for the fridge and pulling out one of the beers that you had bought before they came down.  You watched as he popped the cap off on the counter and took a long gulp, head tilted back. Sarah smacked your arm to get your attention and both of the boys turned to look at her too.  

“Topper told me that he’s here for senior week. Him, Scarlett, Kelce...Rafe.”

“Oh cool...cool, awesome...so, the kook fucking vacation I said I didn’t want.” JJ replied, grip tightening around the beer bottle. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s not like we have to see them.” John B replied, trying to ease his friend’s mood. He didn’t need this argument to flare up again. JJ had only just started to relax and the last thing John B wanted was for him to be in a shitty mood all week.  

“Except we always do. It’s fucking like...what’s the word?”

“Kismet?” You asked, pulling yourself up to sit on the counter as Kiara and Pope joined the small gathering.  

“What’s kismet?” Kiara asked, shaking her head when John B offered her a beer.  

“Topper and” Sarah waved her hand as if to indicate the rest of the group, “them are here.”

“What is kismet?” JJ asked, leaning toward you.  

“It means fate or destiny.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is. It’s my destiny to have the shittest fucking time imaginable because we all had to agree to Sarah’s kook vacation.”

“What is that, your vocabulary word for the day? I’m sorry that I didn’t envision senior week as us sitting around together in a dumpster motel with a bunch of other pogues trying to pretend that we’re not still in the Outer Banks. How dare I fucking plan an actual good vacation that you, oh that’s right, don’t have to pay for!”

“Guys,” Pope stressed the word as he stepped between Sarah and JJ, “can we please just focus on having a good time?”

“I’d have an awesome time if I was anywhere but here!” JJ shoved passed Pope and headed out the sliding glass doors toward the beach leaving the five of you to stand in the kitchen awkwardly.  

“So...” Kiara began, looking around at the group, “so Topper is here?”

“Topper, Kelce, Scarlett-”

“She’s a bitch.” Sarah cut in.

“-and Rafe.”

“Isn’t your brother a little too old to be partying on senior week?” Pope asked, looking toward Sarah. Rafe was at least two years into college by now, there was no way he should’ve been hanging around a bunch of high school kids. “Didn’t he already have a senior week?”

“He’ll probably go on senior week with Wheezie too.” You joked, “anything to party.”

“Honestly.” Sarah agreed. She had a feeling her brother’s intention was for more than just partying. If Kelce had planned to stay with you than it was obvious why Rafe was even coming down in the first place though she wasn’t about to say anything to anyone right now. Kiara, she assumed, knew that you had broken up with Rafe over spring break but she doubted that it was common island knowledge that you had been dating him at all.  

Pope suggested that it was a good idea to leave JJ be, that he’d eventually cool down and come inside on his own, especially once he realized that he had no means to get back to North Carolina. He either came in and accepted that this was the vacation they were getting or he camped out on the beach, either way he was stuck in Florida for the week. Still, you couldn’t help feeling guilty that he was having a shitty time. When Sarah had asked if she could stay with you for the week you had stressed whether it was okay with her friends or not.  

That guilty feeling was completely, so you said, the reason for heading down the beach to find JJ. “I did ask Sarah if it was cool with you guys...coming down here. I know it’s not exactly what you had in mind.” You offered as you sat beside JJ on the beach. In another hour the sun would be completely gone from the sky, the oranges and pinks in the horizon hinting at the coming night.  

“I feel like I should be bitching to a confessional about how much I can’t stand Sarah right now.” He replied.  

“I mean, you could try it?” You teased, moving so your back was to the water and you were facing  him, “alright JJ, tell us what’s got you so upset and try to include a tragic story from your past.”

JJ cracked a smile, meeting you eyes as he put on his best reality show sob voice, “I’m just like, really pissed at Sarah and it totally reminds me of the summer my turtle died.”  

You couldn’t help the burst of laughter as you fell back into the sand. JJ joined in, sour mood getting shelved for another day. He honestly didn’t hate the view or being near a beach, or the incredibly comfortable mattress that he had in the room he had claimed for himself. He was even hesitant to complain about you. Not quite the stuck-up kook that he expected, you’d been welcoming to them since the Twinkie first pulled into your driveway.  

“If it’s Top and them you aren’t thrilled about I don’t blame you. I was definitely looking forward to a drama free week and I feel like that might have just become unattainable. But, we’ll avoid them best we can and focus on other stuff.” You said, trying to ease his upset.

“Other stuff like?”  

“Other stuff like, I got invited to a party down the beach tonight...if you wanna go?” You asked, “I mean who can be sad when they’re drunk?”

“John B...never let him talk to you when he’s drunk.” JJ replied. He stood up and offered you his hand to grab.  

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You said, texting Sarah that you were headed down to a party with JJ.  

The party wasn’t far away and groups of people had already gathered despite it still being early in the night. People who had just shifted from lounging on the beach to the beginnings of what would become a party. It was still in the transition between disjointed groups sunbathing and people getting drunk as you and JJ walked up. He was quiet as you walked through people trying to find somewhere to set yourselves up.  

You weren’t sure if Sarah would really show up with everyone or if she was so peeved with JJ’s attitude that she’d stay away for the night. You kept an eye out for any sign of Topper or anyone else in his group, hoping to avoid them for as long as possible. Maybe the whole week if you were truly lucky.  

Beach parties in the keys were not as good as the boneyard parties you were used to but it would have to do for tonight.  A little less chill and relaxed, people seemed to be forcing the good time as opposed to just letting it happen. The chill vibe that you felt like it should’ve had was non-existent but you weren’t entirely sure that wasn’t just you projecting. Maybe everyone else was already having a good time and you were trying too hard already for the sake of the boy trailing  behind you. People had coolers sitting around with different seltzers, hard lemonades, seagrams, and locos but not a plain beer in sight. JJ complained about the missing keg and you tried to make up for it by offering him a peach Jack Daniels. You took a can of something called Unicorn Swirl, bypassing other people on the beach to sit up on the lifeguard’s deck.  

“This is disgusting, by the way.” JJ mentioned as he took a drink, face screwing up at the overtly sweet taste of the peach. He downed another gulp quickly, trying to trick his brain into not realizing the taste and only getting the alcohol.  

“You’ll be hard pressed to find a keg here.”

“So what I’m hearing is, even the parties are shit?”  

“Not total shit-” you paused to take a sip of your drink, JJ laughing as you almost spit it out. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting!” You gagged at the after taste, holding the 16oz can out for JJ to take, “try it.”

“You just spit it out and you want me to try it?”

“Just...you have to experience it...I can’t even describe that taste.” You replied, taking the peach from him to wash down the taste. “It doesn’t even have a flavor.”

JJ kicked it back, tilting his head and gulping. The sugary taste of whatever flavor they intended it to be made him gag worse than you had and he leaned all the way forward, spitting most of it back out onto the sand. “Holy shit! That is the worst fucking thing I’ve ever had in my life!” He exclaimed, “it tastes like fucking medicine! Why did you make me drink that?”  

“I didn’t make you.” You insisted, taking a sip from his peach.  

“You literally held it in my face and told me I ‘had to experience it’. How is that not making me?”

“Yeah  but I told you it was gross before you drank it so you already knew that.”

“I can’t believe you brought me to a beach party with nothing to drink.” He replied, taking another, smaller sip from the can and pulling a face as he made himself swallow.  

“Why are you still drinking that?”

“Trying to get drunk enough that this whole vacation doesn’t suck.” He shrugged.  

“Hey!” You reached over and smacked his arm, “the whole thing doesn’t suck! I’m super cool, what’re you talking about!”  

“Except you brought me to this party so...not as cool as you think you are.” He took another sip and gagged again, “god I have to stop drinking this.”

“Come on,” you put your peach down and grabbed the unicorn from his hand to abandon that on the lifeguard stand as well, “I know there’s a distributor around here...lets get some real beer.”  

“Sounds good to me, anything but this.” JJ replied, following you away from the crowd of people on the beach.  

-

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @thelonewolfdies @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @jolomez @timotaychalabae @babycakes00 @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank​ @mybnkjj​ @averagxfangirl​ @mysterious-adventurer​ @justawilddreamerchild​ @rhyetaylor62​ @calm-rejects​ @99sxuxii​ @oh-annaa​ @katiaw2​ @aiifandomsunite​ @thatjohnd @pixelated-pogues @booksandshish @lopineapples 

[thatgoblin]

Small Town Affairs

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She's trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren't something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t often that people moved to Tin Springs, population 803. We barely had enough people to need a high school and a junior high school let alone more than a general store and gas station. There wasn’t even a Walmart for nearly 20 miles. You had to make a special trip to the larger town of Conway that had fast food restaurants and strip malls while the closest we had was a Dollar General and a ‘home style’ restaurant that was closed after 9. We did have a few bars and a strip joint, but those were just outside of town. Far enough that most people didn’t count them as being a part of town. It was very much a dying breed of Mayberry towns that used to thrive till people moved for better jobs and schools or to just get out of that small town headspace.

So when what looked like a whole fleet of moving trucks drove down the main road, everyone was talking. Turns out there was some guy with the last name Rogers that owned land that belonged to his pack that he was moving his new pack onto. The family had basically moved away or died off by the time I was 18. Most of the townspeople thought the houses on the land would stay empty till someone bought the land up for farming or to build new houses on. No one ever did and the moving trucks were telling us why it wouldn’t happen. Everyone and their dog would be gossiping and talking about who the new people were, where they came from, why they came back now, but I just ignored the whispers and gossip as I checked out folks at the general store.

“Hazel, would you be a dear and stock the shelves before you leave tonight?” The store owner, Peggy Carter, asked from her office. It sat just to the side of the register, making it easy to keep an eye on things. Her prim English accent was very much out of place in the small midwest town, but it wasn’t as crisp as it used to be when she first moved to Tin Springs.

“Sure. I’ve got my keys so I’ll lock up for you too,” I said, glancing back at her before the bell above the door rang. “Howdy,” I greeted the customers before going back to tidying my area. They were just a couple of women that were grabbing last minute items for dinner, which was the usual crowd so close to our closing time. I knew their faces, but couldn’t recall their names. I’d seen them around town, but I didn’t exactly interact with people outside of my job.

“Did you see the paper today? John Walker’s up for re-election again,” one woman said as they meandered towards the dairy section. While they sort of tried to stay quiet, the store was empty at that time of day and with it being so small that the voices carried easily.

“I saw that. He’s got my vote for sure,” the other woman said. “You know, he’s been such a good sheriff and I don’t think anyone’s running against him. It should be an easy win for him.”

“Hopefully. Things are just fine as they are now, why change them?” The first woman said. “Though, it is a bit odd that he’s with another Alpha and not an Omega.”

“I know, but Brock’s a good man. Both of them are. It’s just too bad things didn’t work out with them and that Omega girl.”

I should be used to it by now, hearing people talking about me and my exs. When you date the county sheriff and the only garage owner in town, things aren’t exactly secret. Even if they didn’t know your name or face, they knew your business.

“You know, John always said she was a good gal, but just had some problems. His mother and I play bridge at the church on Wednesday evenings and she told me that he was heartbroken over their split up. Him and Brock adored her, said they wanted to have kids too. I do hope she’s getting herself straightened out,” the second woman said.

I could handle the whispers and looks I’d get from the older Omegas in town, but this was a new low. They weren’t even trying to keep it quiet anymore.

“Just so ya’ll know, we’re closing soon, so if you’ve got some trash talking to do, do it outside where I don’t have to listen to it,” I called, earning small gasps from the women. They hurried to the front to check out, keeping their eyes down as I glared at them. If they were dumb enough to talk about me in front of me, I was not going to go easy on them. They didn’t say another word as they left, leaving me behind to glare at their backs.

“You should learn to ignore them. People will always talk,” Peggy said from the office.

“The least they could do was be discreet about it,” I mumbled. “Besides, it’s already been over a year and you’d think people would let it go and move on.”

“Well, with the new people moving in, you might get your wish,” she said. I could only hope.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly fast. Peggy left me in charge to stock the shelves after closing. We closed usually at about 8:00 PM, no one showed up after 7:45 PM on a regular day. So to hear the door jostle as someone tried to open at 8:10 PM was odd. Frowning, I put down the pasta to look over the aisle to see a man trying to peer in. He had dirty blond hair styled back into a faux hawk of sorts, and dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a tight black tee. There were a few cuts on his face, a bandaid over his nose, and what looked like hearing aids hooks around his ears, the man stood out like a sore thumb compared to the locals. Seeing me, he put on a big smile and waved.

My first instinct was to ignore him, but since he didn’t look familiar I figured he was one of the new people in town. They wouldn’t know the hours of any of the stores in town. I decided to at least let him know the store was closed. If anything happened I had a bat under my register and pepper spray on my keys in my pocket. Going to the front, I unlocked the door before opening it.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” I said as the muggy summer air came rushing in. “We close at 8.”

“Damn it,” the man hissed as he pulled out a cell phone. “Is there any other place to get groceries around here? My pack and I just moved to town and we don’t have any groceries. We’ve been working all day to get stuff into the house and didn’t realize the time.”

“Oh, uh not really, sorry,” I said. “Dollar General closes at the same time and you’d have to go to the next town over for Walmart and that’s 20 miles away.”

“What time do you guys open in the morning?” He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We open at 6:00 AM.” The way he looked when I told him was like witnessing a puppy being kicked. I could smell him, he was just an Omega. What harm could it do to let him in this once? Peggy had let a few people in here and there after hours, so what was one more? “Okay, so you can’t tell anyone or you’ll get me in trouble, but I can go ahead and let you in to shop. I’m just restocking shelves, so go ahead and get what you need.” Stepping aside, I let him in before locking the door behind him to keep anyone else out.

“Thank you so, so much. You’re a lifesaver, really,” he said as he grabbed a cart and proceeded to grab things off the shelf. I didn’t mind staying late, rent was going up and it was getting harder to pay, so a bit of extra time wouldn’t hurt. “I’m Clint by the way.”

“Hazel,” I replied as I went back to the shelves. Letting him fill his cart, I finished up my work before meeting him at the register. It was a lot of food, but then again how many moving trucks had showed up? “I really hope this isn’t just for you.”

“Naw, there’s 8 people in my pack. I’m hoping this will be good enough for at least dinner and breakfast, but there’s a few of us who can eat out a whole house,” Clint said with a chuckle as I scanned the items.

“Wow, that’s a lot. We don’t really have any packs at all around here. Maybe a handful, but it’s just three people at most,” I said.

“Oh yeah? We just moved here from New York. One of our Beta’s, Steve, used to live here. You might know him,” Clint said.

“Last name Rogers?” I asked, getting a nod. “Not personally. I know of the family and the land, but that’s about it,” I said with a shrug. “Alright, and total for today is $234.89.”

“Yup, sounds about right,” Clint said with a chuckle as he swiped a credit card. What did they do in New York that allowed them to buy that many groceries? Not to mention that was just for one night, I couldn’t imagine a full week’s worth. Maybe they should go to Walmart for groceries next time. “So is there anything fun to do around here?” He asked as I handed him the longest receipt I’d printed before.

“Eh. Depends on what you want to do. We have a restaurant that closes at 9:00 PM, a few bars around here, and a strip joint, but other than that there’s not much to be done unless you’re a fan of high school sports,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m going to have to give Steve a slap upside the head for bringing us to the most boring place in the world,” he sighed before looking at me wide eyed. “I mean, it’s just that it’s kinda slow compared to New York.”

“Don’t worry. I think it’s boring too, but like most of the folks that live here, it’s cheaper to stay than to move if you don’t have another job or family else where,” I said. “Sometimes the rodeo comes to the next town over and a lot of people go there.”

“Yeah, when he said this was a completely different place, I didn’t think he understood how all of us would find it so different,” Clint said as he started to load up the grocery cart.

“Here, let me help you take those out to your car. I’ll get the cart from you and you can head out,” I said, grabbing the keys to unlock the front door to let us out then relocked it.

“Thanks. You know, I guess small towns do have a lot of nice people willing to help out,” Clint said as he led the way to a black sports car.

“Sheesh, fancy,” I snorted as he popped the trunk.

“Yeah, it was a pain to drive it down the dirt driveway I have with my mate. I don’t want to part with her, but I also don’t want to ruin the undercarriage,” he said with a wince.

“That’s a bummer. There’s a car lot in town here, but I don’t know if they’d have anything your style,” I said, handing him a paper bag full of cereal.

“Howard, my mate, would shit his pants if I tried to go there,” Clint said with a chuckle. “He’s too posh to even think of buying anything pre-used. I’m pretty sure he’d have a heart attack.”

“Sounds like he’ll get comfortable real quick,” I said with a snort.

As we were finishing up putting the groceries in the car, there was a short honk and siren bwep before a sheriff’s car pulled into the spot next to Clint’s.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Clint frowned, unsure of what was happening, but I knew.

“Howdy friend!” A familiar voice called as a blond man with bright blue eyes and an irritating smile stepped from the patrol car. Dressed in his brown and khaki uniform, Sheriff John Walker approached us. “You must be part of the pack that just moved to town.”

“Uh, yeah. Just got in today,” Clint said, shifting his body again. “I’m Clint.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Sheriff Walker. Figured that since I saw you in town, I’d catch you real quick for an introduction,” the man said, holding out his hand for Clint to shake. Raising a brow, Clint shook the officer’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing the rest of my pack throughout the week,” Clint said before closing the trunk of his car.

“You’re on the Rogers property, yeah?” John asked, resting his hands on his hips.

“That’s the one,” Clint said with a nod.

“I think I went to school with one of the Rogers’ pack. Steve, I believe his name was. He was a grade above me. His family stayed in town a while before leaving. Didn’t think we’d see anyone come back to live on the property,” John said. I wanted to get away from this conversation as fast as possible. John hadn’t even addressed me, let alone acknowledge my existence. The last thing I wanted was for him to start shit with me in front of someone.

“Probably, I mean, he’ll be in town tomorrow to get all the paperwork fixed up with his mate,” Clint said. “But I should be going. We’ve been driving all day and everyone’s tired and hungry.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” John said with a nod, backing up to let Clint move. I kept quiet, trying to not look John in the eye as I moved the cart back to the sidewalk. “Have a nice evening, now,” he said, typing his broad brimmed hat to Clint.

“Thanks. See you around, Hazel,” Clint said to me with a tight smile and wave. I gave a short wave back before booking it back to the store.

Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, don’t follow me.

“Hazel, wait up,” John called as he jogged to catch up with me. I wanted to scream as I stopped at the front door to unlock it. “So, you’re talking to the new people now, huh?” He said as Clint pulled out and drove away.

“John, go away. It’s none of your business and this is not part of the agreement,” I hissed, getting the door open. Shoving the cart in front of me, I tried to shut the door in his face, but he’d stuck his boot in the way.

“Look, I’m just trying to keep an eye out for you, okay? Don’t get cozy with the new people. They might be interesting, but you never know what people are really like,” he said, pushing his way into the store.

“Ironic coming from you,” I snapped, glaring at him as I moved to the register. “I’m trying to close, leave.”

“Remember what I said,” John sighed. “Don’t trust those new people.”

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you and we both know it’s not far,” I snarled. “Now go away or I’ll short Brock this week.”

“Fine,” he said. “But just remember, I was the one that always looked after you. Even after everyone started those rumors about you, I stuck by you.”

“A lot of good it did me. Now go.”

John looked like he might say something else, but stopped himself. Instead, he shook his head before leaving the store. Quickly, I locked the door after him. Standing there, my hands shook as tears pricked my eyes. The asshole could always get under my skin. Just a damn look and I’d be nearly in tears. As much as I wanted to believe I was stronger now and could handle myself, that small interaction showed me that he still had a grip on my life.

Finished for the night, I headed home. There were no more encounters with anyone else thankfully, allowing me to relax for the night with a beer on my porch. My house wasn’t much, a one story two bedroom house that had a less than stellar paint job, but it was home. It was old, from the 20’s, but it was sturdy. I wasn’t there much but to eat, sleep, and shower anyways.

Sitting on the porch, one beer turned into two which turned into three. It was the fourth one that I finally felt like I could stop shaking completely. The last time I had seen John and talked to him was nearly a month ago. We’d been separated for almost a year and he was being his usual passive aggressive self just to push my boundaries. He’d come into the store and made a show of talking to me like I was a kid, letting everyone see he was the calm, collected Alpha that was trying to reach out with an olive branch to fix things between the unstable Omega who just needed some gentle handling to become a decent person.

I had nearly come unglued on him, but managed to keep my voice low and my eyes down. Peggy found me right after, sobbing out behind the store. No one, not even Peggy, knew what really happened between all three of us, but I wasn’t about to tell them and neither were John and Brock. We’d come to an agreement that they would leave me alone and not talk to me unless absolutely necessary and I’d stay quiet. As well as paying them off. It was nearly half of both my paychecks, but it was worth it if it meant they didn’t come into the store when I was there or tried to talk to me at all.

But John was starting to toe the line and push back. Brock kept his part of the deal, I was pretty sure he never really cared for me, but John was always obsessive. The deal was going to have to be revisited if John didn’t back off.

Done for the night, I tossed the bottles before heading to bed.

The last few days of the work week were about the same. Go to work, come home, go to work, come home. I saw Clint now and then who came in to grab a few things here and there, but that was it. He was nice and despite John wanting to tell me who I could and couldn’t see, it felt better to know that there was someone in town who didn’t know things about me without my permission.

While we weren’t best friends, we did send memes to each other when I was on break and he wasn’t busy. At one point he messaged me a picture of his shed full of cobwebs and wasp nests and asked if it was appropriate to burn it to the ground. I told him to be careful because there could be copperheads underneath or groundhogs. That led into me explaining what those were and learning that the man had lived 37 years thinking a groundhog was something made up by a city for a holiday and it was really just a beaver they were using.

It seemed that I would be teaching him, and probably his pack vicariously, what to look out for in their new homes. I still hadn’t met the rest of the pack, though I had seen one or two here and there around town.

Soon Friday rolled around. I woke up at about 4:30 AM. Friday would be busier than usual as it was a payday. I showered then dressed, sliding on jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I then made a pot of coffee before doing my makeup. Just enough to hide the bags under my eyes and a few marks on my neck that were visible above my shirt collar.

It was my regular dress for my job at the store, Peggy didn’t care too much so long as it wasn’t offensive. Which meant anything but plain clothing and no writing. After coffee, I fixed my hair so it didn’t frizz then grabbed my thermos of coffee. I locked up then headed to work.

The sun was peeking above the trees and clouds as I pulled into work around 5:15 AM. Peggy was already there when I walked in the back.

“Did you have any problems closing the other night? I forgot to ask,” She said as I stepped into the office to get my cash drawer for the day.

“It was fine. Had one of the new people stop in, Clint. The blond that comes by for snacks. He’d made it in just after we closed, but I went ahead and let him shop since they didn’t have anything at their houses,” I said, taking the drawer from the open safe.

“Houses? You mean they’re not all in one?” She asked, looking up from her book keeping.

“There’s not a big enough house for more than four people on their property. There’s like ten of them,” I said with a snort.

“Well I’m sure we’ll meet all of them at some point. We’re the only grocery store in town,” she said.

“Unless they need to buy in bulk. Clint nearly bought everything in the store,” I said, counting my drawer at the register.

“We can only hope. Next time you see them, let them know if they need more than a few things to get us a list and we’ll get them large amounts. We used to do that a lot when there were bigger packs in my hometown,” Peggy said. The woman was nearly 60 and had lived in England up until about 30 years ago, getting the general store from her uncle who had passed away. I was used to hearing the facts of ‘We used to do this in my hometown’ a lot.

“Will do.”

Finished with setting up, I unlocked the front door and turned on the rest of the lights at 6:00 AM. The usual rush of moms right after school starts as well as early rising elderly came in, making for the usual busy rush that Peggy would step in and help with at the second register. By the time 10:00 AM rolled around, things were tapering off. We’d have a lunch rush for those grabbing a quick something, then back to a nice slowness.

“I’m gonna take my break after this last person checks out,” I said to Peggy who nodded. I was starting to get hungry and I saw a bearclaw in the donut rack that had my name on it. A few cups of coffee could only hold me over for so long before I needed actual food.

Before I could clock out for a break though, two people walked into the otherwise empty store. They were part of the new pack, just the scent alone said that, and they were Alphas. Great.

“I got this if you want,” Peggy said softly as she caught the scent too. Peggy was a sweet Beta and she acted as a stand-in grandma for me, but I couldn’t just run at every Alpha that came in.

“I’m good,” I said, giving her a small wave and smile. It wasn’t long before the Alphas came to the register. One was taller, probably over 6’, with steely blue eyes and dark, earthy brown hair with a scruff on his face. He smelt of fresh rain and peaches with that Alpha musk. Dressed in an almost too tight tee with an extra sleeve and glove covering his left arm and hand, he looked out of place in the button up work shirts and plaid that was usually worn by the adult men around town.

The other was shorter, more tailored. His light brown hair had a bit of copper to it as it was swept back from his face as that held a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes stayed on the phone in his hand. He too was in a tee and jeans that were fitted tighter, making them look. . . Well almost foreign. A whiff of cedar and maybe smoke or tobacco swirled into the first Alpha’s scent. Both of them mingling and making something settle deep inside my belly.

Fuck.

“Is that all for you two?” I asked, holding back with every fiber of my being any scent or sign of them making me feel like a simple, needy Omega.

“That’ll be it,” the first Alpha said. It was standard groceries of meat, cheese, dried goods, condiments, basically anything to stock up a house after moving.

“Is your pack settling in okay? Clint comes by now and then,” I said, trying to make small talk. Usually I didn’t, but something about those two had me anxious. Not a bad anxious, but. . . I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, uh yeah. We’re getting there,” he said with a nod. “It’s different than what we’re used to.”

“What are ya’ll used to?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

“A lot more people and a lot less trees,” the second Alpha spoke up, his voice lilting into an accent I couldn’t place. “But it is lovely here. I quite like how peaceful it is without masses of people a hair’s breadth away.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “So are all of you from New York too?”

“A few of us, but not all,” the first Alpha said as he pulled out his wallet.

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t take you long to settle in. Today’s total is $87.56,” I said, tapping a few buttons on my keypad.

“Tell me, is there a nursery around? For plants that is,” the second Alpha asked, leaning onto the counter when I started to help pack up the groceries into the cart. “I am wanting to start a flower garden, but would like to see where the supplies are first.”

“A plant nursery? Um, there is one just west of the town. Just take the main road and it’s about ten minutes from town. It’s run by the Mennonites and they have a bunch of different plants to pick from. They’ve even got starter trees for fruits and some bushes for blackberries and the like,” I said.

“Thank you. I appreciate the information,” he said with a soft smile and a nod. I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You’re welcome, if any of your pack needs anything just ask around. We’re all pretty friendly here,” I said as I finished putting the bags in the cart.

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, moving over to the cart to hold out his hand to me. “I am Helmut. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Hazel. It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, taking his hand. It was warm and soft, different than the work roughened hands I was used to. Helmut rolled his eyes at the other, elbowing him.

“Hey,” he grumbled, shooting him a glare. “Oh, uh, I’m Bucky.” A quick wave and awkward smile was all I was given as he quickly moved to push the cart away.

“He’s house broken, I swear,” Helmut said with a wink. I couldn’t help the honest to God giggle that came out of me. “Have a good day, Hazel,” Helmut said, smiling as he shook his head at Bucky.

“You too,” I called after as they left. It didn’t even occur to me that I was staring after them till Peggy came up next to me.

“You could always ask for a photograph. It would last longer,” she said with hum.

“Oh shush,” I said, waving her off. “They were just, ya know, nice. Most Alphas around here are curt and so loud and demanding. It’s a nice change to see is all.”

“Uh huh. Even if you weren’t letting them get a scent of you, you were definitely giving them eyes. I’ve never seen you do that for anyone. Not even when you were with ‘Those-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.’ I think it’s cute and wonderful that you had that reaction,” Peggy said as she went to the other register so I could take a break. “Besides, when’s the last time you actually touched someone on purpose?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being nice to new people is all,” I said, locking my register computer after clocking out for a break. Quickly, I grabbed the bearclaw before leaving the dollar and change for Peggy. “It was just a handshake. Besides, you always tell me to work on my customer service skills,” I said as I walked to the back door.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” She called after me.

[noonachronicles]

The End of the F**king World Pt. 5

Byun Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 11.3k

Warnings: Language. Cheesy confessions of love. Smut.

Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Slow Burn (ish?). One pining pup and one idiot in denial ~finally~ to lovers.

A/N: The one (I’m pretty sure) everyone’s been waiting for. 

You and Baekhyun spent quite some time in the bath and beauty store. He watched you with amusement as you’d filled the tiny bathtub with things you thought you might want to take with you. You’d also found some presents to pack for Seulgi and Irene. Once you felt satisfied with your findings Baekhyun took you around the rest of the third floor and down to the second floor for the tour. As he brought you around to the different stores you kicked yourself for not thinking about coming here much sooner. It was packed with a ton of useful items that were completely untouched.

On the second floor you found the real motherload, a military surplus shop. It was packed with knives and other weapons, an entire section dedicated to MREs, and everything you could think of for first aid supplies. When you asked Baekhyun why he’d never brought any of this stuff home with him since he’d apparently been here so often he shrugged and said that he’d never been in the store before. He said that it didn’t look very fun from the outside, which earned him a hard punch to his shoulder.

After that you found a clothes store that you wanted to go back to later and an empty shop space that hadn’t been rented out. You suggested that you could bring some of the camping supplies from the surplus store into the empty space for a nice place to sleep later. Baekhyun agreed and made note that the restrooms were right outside and you could both use them to wash up. With a plan for the night in place you finally made your way to the toy store before it really got too dark.

Flashlights in hand you made your way into the store. Almost immediately after walking inside you heard Baekhyun call your name and looked over at him. He tossed a small package your way and you reached out to grab what ended up being batteries.  

“Just in case.” he grinned before moving towards the opposite side of the store.

“Thanks.” You blushed as you pocketed the batteries and made your way down the aisles.

Down the first aisle you picked up an off brand nerf gun that was meant to look like a semi automatic sniper rifle. It felt strange in your arms, too light. Sehun had taught you to shoot a sniper rifle, you knew what it was like to hold a real one. You knew what it felt like to shoot one, to shoot a living thing with one. Holding a fake one, to imagine shooting things and people as being a fun game, it left you with an uncomfortable sensation. You frowned as you put the gun back on the shelf. You’d used to love nerf guns, they’d been fun. Brushing off the discomfort, and picking your flashlight back up from where you’d placed it, you moved down the next aisle.  

This aisle was a little more relaxed, board games and puzzles. Moving your flashlight over the pictures on the puzzle boxes you thought, if you survived this fight, you might like to start doing puzzles. Maybe you could set up a big table in the record store and just listen to music and work on puzzles with thousands of pieces. Moving along to the next aisle you found a collection of Lego sets. They made you think about Baekhyun. If he used to do them before you could get him a really nice one for the holidays, maybe he’d like that.

With him fresh on your mind a curious thought arose as you eyed the sets in front of you. “Baekhyunnie...”

“Yeah?” His voice came from somewhere a little deeper in the store.

“I have a question for you.”

“Ask away.” He sounded a little closer now but still a bit distracted.

“Why would you come to Quad Two?” you called out your question and tried to ignore the aggressive wave of jealousy that washed over you for at least the third time that day.  

“What do you mean?” He asked casually, you were glad he was still aisles away and couldn’t feel the swell of envy rolling off of you as you imagined the worst.

For a second you wondered what that meant to you. The worst. What would be the worst possible reason you could imagine? Baekhyun visiting someone. Baekhyun visiting a woman that wasn’t you. Baekhyun falling in love with someone else. With a vigorous shake of your head you halted that destructive train of thought and moved around to the next aisle.  

“You said before you’ve been here a dozen times. Why would you keep coming back to Quad Two?” as you asked the question Baekhyun rounded the corner at the end of your aisle and you looked over at him innocently. As innocently as you could manage anyway. “Were you coming to see someone? I mean... you had to have been, right? Why else would you keep coming back?”

He stopped about a yard away from you and leaned against the shelf with a smug, knowing smile. “Who were you visiting every time you went to Eight?”

“No one.” You scoffed and looked back at the shelf even if there was nothing that really interested you. “I went to the record store, that's all. And anyway don’t avoid my question. Who were you here to see?”

Biting his lip in amusement he let it go with a small pop, “I’ll tell you but only if you admit you’re jealous.”

“Well I won’t be doing that because I’m not jealous.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away, moving slowly towards the next aisle.

“You really want to know?” His voice followed behind you.

“Are you going to tell me or are you going to tease me like before when you refused to tell me who you were hung up on?” you asked looking over your shoulder at him.

“You’re still thinking about that?” he asked, “I’m surprised. You must really be jealous then.”

“You know this is why no one ever lets you have any power, right? It goes straight to your head.” you sighed, “You can be so impossible.”

“Me?” he scoffed, keeping his eyes on your back. If only you knew how impossible he found you. “You’re sure you want to know? I don’t know if your little green eyed monster could handle the truth.”  

Your fingers lightly touched the silver handle of the plastic toy in front of you. Honestly, you weren’t so sure he was wrong. There were some really beautiful women in Two. You knew that. Most of you wanted to pretend a little longer that you didn’t know why it mattered so much to you. Maybe being in love or in a relationship with someone wasn’t on your priorities list but part of you always enjoyed that Baekhyun seemed to like you. As selfish as it was. Even with everything that was happening around you it always made you feel good. He always made you feel good. For whatever reason it gave you a sense of normalcy, crushes and harmless flirting. It gave off a very Before Times feeling. The fact that thinking about him seeing someone else made you sick with envy made you feel like a terrible human and an even worse friend. You shouldn’t be so possessive over someone that wasn’t even yours. You should be happy for your friend, the one who always did his best to bring you joy.

“Yeah.” You answered quietly after a moment of consideration. Internally you reminded yourself to be nice, no matter who it was. “I really want to know.”

“Do you remember my brother?” He asked.

You looked up at him in surprise. You weren’t expecting that, “I think I met him once or twice. He was a lawyer, right?”

“Right.” He nodded. “He had an office building a couple streets away.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders fell, jealousy quickly replaced with the ache of guilt.

“I uh-“ he sighed deeply, “Sometimes when I’ve had a bad week or whatever, I’ll just go to the office. I don’t know what it is. I like to just sit in his chair and look at the pictures he kept of our family. When I’m there it feels like I’m able to talk to him. So I tell him everything. It’s just kind of comforting.”

“Baek.” You weren’t sure what to say, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged, “Being able to tell him things is nice, but I like telling you things too.”

Looking down at your feet you dug the toe of your shoe into the floor.

“Fine…” you sighed, still feeling horrible and like you had to give him something, “Just so we’re clear, I did ask because I was jealous.”

Baekhyun laughed. It started as a little chuckle then grew until it was something almost uncontrollable. His cheeks had formed perfectly rounded orbs of joy. Hand on his chest as he tried to breath, teeth out on full display. Just absolutely glowing with happiness. It was cute, so you rolled your eyes to offset the grin on your lips.  

“It’s not even that funny!” You tried not to laugh along with him but he was too infectious.

“I knew.” He continued to laugh, “It’s just funny because obviously I already knew, but you admitted it anyway. You’re so...you’re so great.”

“Ugh, I hate you!” you groaned.

“Yeah, I know.” he sighed, “I love you too.”

He laughed for a little while longer before growing quiet. The two of you were silent for a while but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. In fact all day, with the exception of your run in with Baddie, had been comfortable. Truthfully you usually had a good time when you were with him. You spent a minute trying to think of the last time you really let yourself spend time alone with Baekhyun. It hadn’t been for some time you knew that much. A year at least, maybe even longer.

In the beginning you were together all the time. All day every day essentially. The two of you would go out to scavenge together or train with Sehun. Then you’d go back home for the night and go over maps together and make plans for the next day. If it was a particularly hard day, if there had been lots of Lurkers or maybe you had a close call, you’d play games. He taught you poker and you learned chess together. The more you thought about how much fun the two of you had back then the less it made sense that you’d have stopped. You flushed lightly when you finally realized why you had.

At some point after the first year you worried you were, as Seulgi had put it at the time, catching feelings for him. For a lot of reasons back then you weren’t ready. Losing Siwon was still pretty fresh in your mind. You’d just barely gotten comfortable with your new situation, the new normal. The idea of having feelings for anyone, let alone someone you were as close to as Baekhyun terrified you. It was then you started to push away from him. Scavenging alone, spending time with friends from other families in an attempt to avoid alone time with him. When you looked up at him he stood with his hands in his pockets, a pout on his mouth. He seemed a little sad and you wondered if he was thinking about his brother.

“Hey.” You said finally and turned around to reach for the toys you’d been looking at before. Grabbing one plastic lightsaber in each hand you held them out to him, “Red or blue?”

His lips turned up into a smile and he said, “Blue, obviously.”

With a groan you tossed him the blue lightsaber, “Of course you would, such a good boy.”

“Which makes you...” he grinned, “a bad girl?”

You rolled your eyes. “Are we here to flirt or are we here to fight?”  

“Both.” he muttered as he tried to tear the plastic packaging from the toy.

You laughed as you jabbed one of your blades into the plastic, quickly tearing apart the packaging. Once your weapon was freed you hurried to the front of the store. Baekhyun whined about you giving him a faulty lightsaber. You dropped your backpack on the cashiers counter and tugged off your jacket in preparation. When you turned back around Baekhyun was finally flicking his toy open. His thumb pressed against the button and the blue blade started to glow, the telltale saber sounds emitting from the handle.

He slid his pack across the floor so that it was near the counter at your feet, “Ready to die, Sith spawn?”

“Not today, Jedi jerk.” You said flicking your arm so that your blade was out as well.

After that the two of you were off. You fought aggressively, just in the front of the toy store at first and eventually pushed out into the rest of the mall. Your stomach hurt from laughing as you chased each other from the third floor down to the second floor and then back up again. Invisible limbs were left all over the place and both of you excelled at dramatically losing blood. You’d died and reset three times despite your very best efforts but you refused to give up until you won. Baekhyun’s endless energy and enthusiasm was hard to match but you did your best and he respected your game. After your fourth collapse onto the tiled floor of the mall you had to request a brief recess to catch your breath. Baekhyun had agreed wanting to get a new lightsaber, since his had a bend in it.

The sun was setting but there was still a bit of light reflecting back into the galleria, enough that you didn’t need your lights outside of the stores. Both of you sipped quietly from your bottles of water. Leaning over the railing you looked down at the black lake below. You tried to think of all the times you’d watched Lurkers attack. They weren’t terribly smart creatures. They didn’t climb as far as you’d ever seen but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Once or twice you’d seen one take a leap. The first time had been one that chased Taeyong to the rooftop of a building. He’d jumped across to the next building with little damage, but the Lurker was too heavy and dropped like a brick. Sometimes in their mob mentality they’d step on one another like stepping stones until they reached their victim. They were mostly big on brute force, breaking things down to get to people. Smashing windows, breaking down walls and doors. Still it surprised you they weren’t adapting after this long.

“Why do you think the Lurkers don’t try to get past the water?”

Baekhyun shrugged, “Their eyesight. We know they can’t see for shit. They have no perception of how deep the water really is or how long it goes on for. Risk versus reward isn’t worth it.”

After a moment of thought you said, “So all it would take is one Lurker to be bold enough to try. To walk through the water and realize it’s not dangerous for them and then they’d come after us, and we’d be dead.”

“Stop!” He let out a breath of a laugh but you could hear the frustration. “Why do you always do that? How can you always imagine the worst happening? We’re in the middle of having a nice time, are we not?”

“Of course we are, but that’s when you should really reassess your safety and strategy. How can you not imagine the worst? How have you survived until now?” You weren’t offended, you knew it’s what you did. You thought everyone else was crazy for never stopping to think of every possible scenario. “Haven’t the last three years taught you anything?

“The last three years taught me the only thing I need to know.” He answered, “It taught me life is short and unpredictable. Too short and too unpredictable to spend all my time worried about the things that could happen instead of enjoying the things that are happening.”

With a light sigh you tried to keep your eye roll at the most respectful length you could muster.

“Try it.” Baekhyun said seriously. “For the rest of the night, stop thinking about the world outside of this mall. No Lurkers. No Baddie. No death and pain. It’s just me and you. I promise I will worry for the both of us where worry is warranted. Just give yourself the next few hours to be worryless. To enjoy the fact that so far none of the Lurkers have been so bold to cross the water and that we have a place that feels genuinely safe.”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head.

“You’re too tense all the time. If you don’t let things go every once in a while, you’re never going to beat me at lightsabers.” when you looked back over at him he was grinning. You wondered how long ago he realized being challenged was your weakness and then you wondered how long he’d actually been using that knowledge against you.  

“Fine, but you have to promise you’ll worry about something every ten minutes, at least, to compensate for my lack of concern.”

“You got it.” He said and held his hand out.

You shook his hand to seal the deal and took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. Bending down you placed your water bottle on the ground. When you looked over you realized he’d left his new weapon on the ground inside the toy store when he’d sat down to tie his shoe earlier. You held back a malevolent grin.

He watched you, quite amused, as you physically released yourself of worries. Deep inhales, long exhales. You shook your shoulders to loosen up and stretched your body out until you were satisfied. Then you reached down to your side and grabbed the lightsaber from the holster you’d crafted and snapped it so that the red plastic blade was released to its full length. His smile dropped at that point as a confident smile grew on your own face and he realized he was unarmed and that you were blocking his access to his weapon with your own.

“Now...now I’m going to kick your ass.”

“...Shit.” Wide eyed with fear he bolted quickly in the opposite direction and you sprinted after.

He ran halfway around the third floor before skidding into a womens clothes boutique and hiding behind a headless mannequin.

“Wait!” He shouted with laughter. “I wasn’t ready!”

“A Sith would never wait for a Jedi to prepare.” You said calmly, smacking your lightsaber against the mannequin. You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Baekhyun released a shrill shriek and ran to another mannequin.

“Damn...that’s true.” He muttered.

You followed him as he circled around the boutique, hiding behind racks and mannequins.

“You should just let me kill you. You have no weapon and you can’t hide forever…”

“I’m not.” He responded before jumping up from behind the table he was next to. “Just had to catch my breath, so I can go get my weapon.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized that while you were following him around you left an open path to the door. “No!”

Both of you bolted towards the door at the same time. Baekhyun let out a battle cry and threw a balled up T-shirt at you. You paused at the door, looking down at the shirt you’d caught as he continued running back to the toy shop laughing the entire way.

“Did you just throw a fucking T-shirt at me?!” You screamed after him, “Get back here, Baek! You are so dead!”

-

Finally, having let go of some of your anxieties you were able to defeat Baekhyun twice in a row much to your satisfaction. At that point the sun had set and all you really had as far as lighting was your flashlights so both of you figured it was time to settle down for the night. Working together you carried supplies from the surplus store on the second floor to the empty shop on the third floor.

After some looking around you decided to upgrade your backpack from the one you’d been using the last several months to a sturdy, bigger one. You stuffed the new pack full of MREs to try for dinner. And like a gift from the heavens you found near the camping supplies, a display for s’mores. You made sure to snag every single bag of marshmallows and every bar of chocolate you saw. As far as you were concerned it was more important than the sleeping bags. Baekhyun grabbed the sleeping bags himself along with some lanterns for better lighting. That was going to be your very basic setup for the night. A huge empty room with a couple of sleeping bags and a stockpile of s’mores ingredients. The sight, once you’d hauled everything to the room, pleased you greatly. It was everything you needed. Feeling settled, you told Baekhyun you were going to clean up.

Before heading to the bathroom you stopped by a few other stores from earlier. In the clothes boutique you spent some time really looking around. You were pleased to find a comfortable pair of pajama pants, an oversized sweater and even some cute underwear. Feeling like being in there already was a good enough excuse you also grabbed yourself a nice, clean shirt, a new bra, and some socks for the next day.

Stuffing your new purchases in a bag you stopped a few other places before finally making your way into the bathroom. The lanterns Baekhyun had grabbed from the surplus store lit up the bathroom brilliantly. Apparently you’d grown spoiled having the shower head at Cordially. You had to angle your head quite uncomfortably to wash your hair and it left you a little annoyed. In the bath and body shop you’d found a hair mask and threw that in before starting on your body.

You groaned at the realization that you had Lurker blood splatter all over you. It was your arms mostly, but it had also soaked through your shirt in several spots. You weren’t even sure if it was from the night before or this afternoon. With your newly found loofa you were able to scrub your skin until it felt fresh. Then once you’d rinsed out your hair and thrown it up into a towel you shaved. For the first time in a long time you shaved. You felt stupid for never having done it before. It wouldn’t have been hard to find the supplies. Beyond your tapes you just didn’t think about little luxuries like that anymore.

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom you felt completely refreshed. Brand new, clean underwear and pajamas from the boutique down the way. Scented soap, and fancy shampoo from the shop Baekhyun had taken you to earlier. For the first time in years you felt almost human. While that all helped to get you there, you knew it also had a lot to do with the fact that you hadn’t spent the entire night stressed about things that may or may not happen. The only thing you’d thought about was how happy you were and how much fun you’d been having. You felt a little stupid for that too. For never taking the time before to just be a person. You should have been taking Baekhyun’s advice all along. You could never admit it to him though, he’d never let it go.

Reaching the room the two of you had set up earlier you realized that the fun was not yet over. Apparently while you’d been away getting clean and refreshed Baekhyun had been keeping busy. He’d taken it upon himself to set up an indoor campsite. There were the sleeping bags from before but he’d brought in stacks of pillows and blankets as well. They were set up around a bunch of candles that he’d turned into a makeshift campfire, complete with cardboard cut into the shapes of logs. Next to that was a pile of junk food, candy that he’d collected, along with the s’mores. And the MREs from the surplus store. The best part of all was a battery operated projector he’d found earlier in the toy store. It was set up to reflect against the ceiling and it looked like a starry night sky.

Too amazed by the sight you almost didn’t even notice Baekhyun come in. However he’d been grunting and that caught your attention. Turning around you saw him waddling inside the room from the bathrooms with the little tub in his arms, water sloshing from side to side.

He smiled brightly when he saw you, “Do you like it?”

“Where’d you find the time?” you tried to help him with the tub but he refused.

“What does that mean?” He laughed “All I have is time.”

“I mean you bathed, right?” You asked skeptically. “Because you were getting ripe.”

“First of all I was not ‘getting ripe’. Maybe you were smelling yourself.” He started, after placing the tub down, “Second I don’t know what you girls do in the bathroom but whatever it is...it takes too long.”

“Well” you sat down in the seat he’d set up on the opposite side of the foot bath, “I shaved.”

“What for?” He laughed harder than before as he tugged up the leg of the pajamas he’d put on, and stuck his feet in the water. Then he paused suddenly, “...for me?”

“No!” You denied a little too enthusiastically and way too quickly as you rolled up your own pajama pants to your knees. Baekhyun just grinned as you dipped your feet in the water with his.

While you weren’t paying attention apparently, he’d found a lemon oil, tea tree bath salt for the water and you watched, a little amazed, as he poured it in. It turned out he’d brought a lot of things along to do as your feet soaked. You started to realize you were finding his thoughtfulness less and less surprising with every passing day. Though your gratitude for it, for him, was greater than ever. He let you apply a peel off mask to his face and he applied one to yours. He said he would massage your hands with a nice lotion he’d found but made you promise to do the same for him, which seemed like the easiest trade off you’d ever agreed to in your life. You even let him paint your nails, he didn’t do a bad job at all.

“Okay, try this one.”

Digging your spoon into the pouch that you’d heated up, you laughed to yourself at the way it looked and then held it out to him.  

“Is that dog food? That looks like someone already tried it and then spit it back in the pouch. Give me another one of those cookies instead.” he said still painting your toes.

“One bite of cookie and then you have to try the food. I made it for you myself.”

He rolled his eyes as he opened his mouth so you could feed him a bite from one of the cookies that had been in the meal package. You waited diligently until he swallowed and then shoved the spoon in front of him. After accepting the spoonful he started shaking his head. He made a face like he wanted to spit it out but realized he didn’t have anywhere for it to go.

Swallowing the mouthful he made a gagging noise that just made you laugh further, “Nope. That’s a big time no on the beef brisket.”

“Shame.” you sighed putting it to the side and grabbing the next one, “It smelled pretty good.”

“Actually, you know what we should do?” he asked, finishing your last little toe and then sitting back, “We could take it with us and force feed it to Baddie. It might be the secret weapon to his destruction.”

“Ready-to-eat poison pouch?” you asked and held out a spoonful of something new.

“Why am I the only one eating them?” he asked, looking at you with great suspicion. “Why don’t I make one and you eat it?”

“I am eating them! I ate the chicken with the rice and the tacos.” you said innocently.

“Yeah, after I tried them first and said they were good!” he argued before reluctantly taking the new bite of food from you anyway. “Eh, it’s not bad, not great.”

Taking a bite of the pouched spaghetti you shrugged, “Kind of like that canned stuff from when we were kids. Want some more cheese spread?”

“Nah.” he reached over and pulled an armful of junk food across the floor to where you were sitting on your sleeping bags. “Time for s’mores.”

Though both of you were actually pretty full from eating the meals you still managed to tear through an entire bag of marshmallows and all of the chocolate a little too quickly. Neither of you was ready for the fun to be over though so you kept snacking on marshmallows straight from the bag and played games from a stack that Baekhyun had brought over from the toy store. After several rounds of Connect Four and Guess Who, he suggested Chubby Bunny. It seemed like the two of you were dead set on finishing every bag of marshmallows you’d brought with you anyway so he thought you might as well make it fun.

“Thumby mubby.” he mumbled cheeks fat and round with about eight jumbo marshmallows and big puppy eyes watering with laughter.  

“Stop! You’re so dumb. I can’t breathe. I can’t-“ You brushed the tears from your aching cheeks as you laughed. Your whole torso hurt from the strain on your muscles.

Looking over at him you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. He was such an amazing guy. You couldn’t help but think about all the time you’d spent together and how happy you always were when you were with him. You remembered everything he’d ever done for you whether they were huge things like saving your life or tiny little things like sharing a piece of gum with you. He was such a dork. He could be so annoying and completely infuriating sometimes. Some days he drove you absolutely insane. But looking at him now, his cheeks packed with marshmallows and tears of laughter streaking down his cheeks...you knew. You knew that you never would have survived this long without him and you knew you didn’t have a future if he wasn’t in it.

Before your brain could make sense of what your heart was doing, before it could stop you again you said, “I love you.”

Your smile faded quickly and a brick of nerves slammed into the pit of your stomach where the laughter had just been. Your eyes looked anywhere but at him. He was trying so hard to chew and clear his stuffed mouth, he nearly choked. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew he’d want to know what you meant and as you sat there waiting for the inevitable you realized you weren’t sure what you wanted to say.

You knew what you meant by it but it didn’t have to be what you told him. You could always say you meant, “I love you like a friend”. Even if you knew it was more. Even if you knew it was “I love you so much it hurts. You’re everything I have in this fucked up reality and I’d be lost without you”.

“What did you mean...when you said that?” He asked, finally swallowing the last of the marshmallows.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You shrugged.

“You’ve literally never said you loved me before. Did you mean love like when I say ‘Oh man, I love Chanyeol?’ or did you mean I love you like how I mean it when I say ...I love you too?”

You sat quietly for a moment, contemplating your options. One or both of you could be dead by tomorrow and the way you saw it you could do one of two things. You could continue to blow him off, pretend like how he made you feel was nothing, and then you die or he dies or you both die and he never knows for sure how much you actually do love him. He doesn’t know that he meant more to you than anyone left in the whole world. He never finds out that every single day you spent with him was a day he kept you alive. And if you live and he dies, you live with that regret until your last breath.

Or the other option would be to just tell him. And maybe, for just one single moment in this hellscape of a reality, you could be reminded of how good just loving someone felt. Then tomorrow comes and one or both of you die and then it’s over, good feelings gone. Bad feelings made ten times worse because you’ve lost the one thing you loved the most in the whole world and you can’t lie to yourself anymore because you already told him the truth.

You sighed shakily.

“Do you remember the first few weeks after the invasion? We didn’t know anything then. We didn’t know if it would stop. We didn’t understand Lurkers yet. We didn’t know if we’d run out of clean water or if we’d run out of food. Everyday was miserable to get through. Everything was so dark and gloomy.” Finally you looked up at him with tear filled eyes, “Except for you, Baek. You always found a reason to smile. Every single day. Even if it was something small or silly, you were always so happy. I didn’t understand how you did it. And I didn’t understand why you always shared it with me, whatever that one thing was. You always made sure I smiled or laughed.”

He scooted closer as you started to really cry and placed his hand on your knee. You thought to hold his hand but yours was absolutely trembling at your side.

You wiped at your cheeks and with a shaky voice you continued, “I was so miserable then. To you, to everyone. I didn't even want to live in this world. I thought about dying every day. Seulgi kept me alive those days. I couldn’t do that to her, you know? Then she had Yeol and I knew she would be okay. I knew he would take care of her. I wasn’t living for her anymore, but by then I had something else to keep me going.”

You placed your hand on top of his. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed your fingers.

“You were so nice to me. You always have been, even before this. And I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t deserve it, I never have. I’ve never been half as good to you as you deserve. To be honest, of everyone that’s left I think I’m still pretty miserable now. I definitely still don’t deserve you or how amazing you are to me. Maybe I’ll never deserve you. Your kindness is so pure and you’re so thoughtful. I guess despite that, despite knowing I’ll never be good enough for you, I also know now without a doubt that I wouldn’t be here without you. I don’t want to be here without you, Baekhyun. You’re what keeps me going. You’re my reason. You’re the only reason I try anymore. I guess I mean... I- I love you. I love you. I just...love you.”

He leaned forward with a tiny grin and dried your face with the long, soft sleeve of his shirt,  “So...not at all like when I say I love Chanyeol.”

With a small laugh you wiped your cheeks again, “No, not really. It’s like a little bit more than that.”

“Y/n, I...I can’t remember a minute of my life when I wasn’t in love with you.” He said with a thoughtful smile, “That’s how long it’s been for me. Literally since the second I saw you. Feels like decades at this point but I still remember it perfectly. Whatever happened in my life before I met you, it just doesn’t exist now. It’s not important. You do deserve everything I do for you. If for no other reason than because I say you do. And I’m not as good as you think I am. Every time I made you smile was purely selfish because your smile is the only thing that gets me through the day. And that was true well before any of this bullshit. Why do you think I always brought you coffee? I just wanted to see you happy. You’ve been the reason for my smile for years. This was just my chance to be that for you. And just in case I haven’t said it enough yet, I love you too.”

You rolled your lip between your teeth before giving him a pout, “I think this is where we kiss.”

“Really?” He looked a little overwhelmed.

You nodded in affirmation and he leaned forward. He gently pinched your chin between his fingers and brought your lips to his. His eyes lingered on your mouth for some time. You were growing restless watching him grin at your waiting lips.

“This isn’t some fantasy, Baek. I’m here, you can really kiss me.” You whispered.

He let out a huff of laughter. “That’s funny...you don’t like waiting for me.”

“You know I’m impatient.”

“Oh, I know.” He responded, but still he made no effort to kiss you. Only sat there smirking.

“And yet, you do not kiss me…”

His eyes crinkled with a smile as he felt you grow more and more frustrated. You were about to just lean in and do it yourself when he pulled away completely. Your eyes went wide in shock.

“I changed my mind.” His eyes were sparkling as he looked you over.

“About?”

He looked down at his lap, “I was going to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you forever and it would be so easy to just grab you by the face and bury myself in you until I can’t feel my mouth anymore.”

“That sounds great. You should do that.”

“I think I want to wait instead.” he grinned at the anguish on your face, and seemingly out of nowhere he said, “When I was little I wasn’t really allowed to have sweets. My parents thought I had too much energy as it was.”

“I can't imagine that at all...” you said sarcastically, and settled back down, realizing this wasn’t going to be the instant gratification you were looking for.

“For my birthday and only my birthday, I would get a cake and a bag filled with candies. All of my favorite kinds. The best ones. And my parents would let me eat the candy however I wanted but they reminded me that I'd only get the one bag. When I was younger I would be done with the bag in a day, an hour if I didn’t get a stomach ache. As I got older I understood the lesson better. I stretched it out as much as I could. I’d wait weeks and then have a candy and then a few more and have another one. I had candy all year long if I did it right, and every one of those candies I’d appreciate to the fullest.”

“So...I’m the candy?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I’m the candy.”

“I don’t understand, Baek.” You said thoroughly confused.

“I’ve wanted you forever. You’ve wanted me for five minutes. If I just let you eat the whole bag you don’t learn the lesson.” He shot a lopsided smile your way. “I just want to make sure you take your time and appreciate me to the fullest.”

“You assume I wouldn’t appreciate you?” You asked semi-offended. “That I don’t already.”

“I just want to make sure.”

You supposed you could play his little game. “Okay. So what do we do now?”

“Time for bed.” He said, throwing himself down against the pillows.

You were wrong, you could not play. “You're not serious?”

“Good night.” he closed his eyes, a cheerful smile on his face.

“Byun Baekhyun...I swear,” you threatened, “if you don’t get up…”

“Then you’ll what?” He teased, keeping his eyes closed.

“Then I’ll…” you weren’t sure.

He wiggled his body until he was comfortably settled, “Well, go on.”

“I’ll go down there to you.”

Finally he opened his eyes, they were bright and playful as ever. “Look at you. You want me so bad. I might even say you’re being desperate.”

“Shut up.” You shoved his shoulder and he rolled easily from his side to his back.

Baekhyun laughed as he looked up at you, “If you really want me that much, I guess I won’t stop you, but remember... I’m a treat.”

Your lips parted as if to speak but instead you leaned forward and kissed him. It was so simple, a junior high kiss. Just your lips on his lips. Nothing special about it at all but it felt like everything. It was hard to tell if it was just years of not being touched or if it was because it was Baekhyun. You had a feeling it was a little of both. He had one hand in your hair but his other arm wrapped around your waist. A giggle escaped your mouth as he pulled you on top of him. The two of you kissed like that for a while, PG13. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop but eventually he pulled back to take a look at you.

“Your lips taste like marshmallows.” He whispered.

Leaning forward you left a soft kiss on his cheek. “You should taste the rest of me.”

“Don’t.” He murmured quietly before easing himself out from under you and pushing up into a sitting position, “Not unless you mean it.”

You pushed yourself up as well, and threw your leg over him, settling down onto his lap. “What makes you think I don’t mean it?”

“You’re a tease.” He said placing a hand on your hip.

“I’m a tease!” You laughed and shoved his shoulder again. “Mr. Time for bed.”

“You’ve been teasing me years.” There was a small smile on his face but his eyes darkened. “Walking around all smart and funny. Strong, so strong, and so beautiful. There’s never been anyone as sexy as you. And you’ve just been rubbing it in my face all these years.”

With a blush you kissed his cheek and then pulled his lip between your teeth. When you leaned back he was practically glowing again. You grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Then he watched wide eyed as you pulled your sweater off. Chilly against your hot skin, his long fingers moved up the length of your back. He brought you close until you were pressed against his chest and groaned as you brushed your tongue gently across his lips before he opened his mouth for you.

Getting caught up in the kiss you moved your hands up his neck and into his hair. You moaned softly into the kiss. Instantly you felt his nails dig into the skin of your shoulders. The feel of his tongue on yours was euphoric. You’d forgotten how much you loved to kiss. There was a simplicity to it, no rush. It felt normal for a moment like you were back in your old life. You could have kissed him all night but it was clear after a while, as he grew hard against your thigh, that he had other plans for the two of you. He flipped you so that you were on your back. His lips sucked on the skin of your neck until you were gasping beneath him.

He pulled back for just a second to look at you, “Do you want…”

“Yes.” You answered effortlessly.

He groaned and pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I uh...I don’t have any condoms. I don’t even know where to get one that’s not expired.”

“I think we’ll be okay.” you laughed, “Unless you’ve been sleeping around with everyone we know.”

“I haven’t...not with anyone.” he said quietly.

“Ever?” you asked surprised.

“God no! Not ever!” he said, horrified by the assumption, “Just since it happened.”

“Me too.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.” You weren’t sure if you should be upset by how genuinely shocked he sounded. “Who’d you think I was fucking?”

“No one.” he said looking just passed you, avoiding looking at you.

“Obviously someone.”

“Please don’t get mad at me.” he begged, feeling this moment slipping away from him. “I just, I couldn’t shake the feeling you were with... Hyunwoo.”

“Oh.” your forehead creasing as you tried to avoid replaying his death over and over again at the mention of him like you had been for the last couple of days.

He sighed seeing the distraught look on your face, though he assumed it was because of what he’d said and not what you’d seen. He pushed his face into your shoulder mumbling, “I fucked this up.”

“No… no you didn’t.” you turned your head slightly and kissed his forehead. “Just distract me. Please. I do want this.

“Okay…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek, his face still resting on your shoulder. “Do you remember the other day when Baddie showed up? Do you remember that morning?”

“Um.” you couldn’t think with his fingertips dragging down the length of your neck, so slowly. “Barely. I was on scavenging duty like normal.”

Turning his face up, his nose brushed your neck and then his lips grazed your skin, “Do you remember before that? On the rooftop of the old bank. You were…you were touching yourself.”

“How do you-“ you inhaled sharply as his hand moved down your neck to your chest. “I didn’t.”

“Don’t deny it.” He grinned feeling the gulp move down your throat passed his lips. “I watched you.”

“Seriously?” You asked. You knew you should be more angry, feel violated. Instead between the thought of him watching you and the way he kept whispering against your neck left you excited. You let out the smallest laugh, “I always knew you were a little pervert.”

“It was an accident at first,” he said pulling your earlobe between his teeth, “but I did enjoy it.”

“Fuck, Baek.” you sighed.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.” he spoke softly but it was a demand regardless. “What do you fantasize about?”

When you turned your face towards his, your noses brushed together in an Eskimo kiss and your eyes met his before you muttered, “You.”

His eyes went wide, as if he forgot he was trying to seduce you. Finally gathering himself he puffed out an amused breath of air. “If you don’t tell me the truth Y/n,  I can’t make your fantasies come true.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” you whispered against his lips, “I was thinking about you.”

He moved his absent hand back up your body, grabbing your chin. Holding you in place he sucked your lip between his in an urgent kiss. You moaned slightly as your mouths molded together. When he pulled away his eyes locked with yours. They were electric. It was as if all the energy he usually used up running around everywhere or chatting your ear off was locked inside of them.

“Tell me everything. I want to know everything that happened in that beautiful head of yours.”

You blushed but you knew you weren’t getting out of it and you didn’t want to, “We were in the shower room at Cordially.”

“With the candles and flowers like I did for you?” you nodded and somehow his face beamed brighter than before, “were we naked?”

“And wet.” You grinned.

He threw his head back with a groan before looking back at you, “It’s perfect already. Keep going.”

“You had the shower head, and you used it on me and the water pressure was astounding.” He laughed against your neck as his hand slipped into your pajama pants.

“Yeah?” He asked, “Did I use it here?”

Your mouth dropped open as his hand slipped into your panties, sliding smoothly against your already slick sex. You shivered at the feeling of someone else’s hands on you.

“Yeah, there.”

“God,” he murmured as his fingers dragged up and down your sex, occasionally rubbing against your clit. “we don’t even need a showerhead, you're so wet.”

You nodded and then gasped as two of his digits found their way inside of you. They were so long and so agile and felt infinitely better than your own. It had only been enough time for a few slow, almost experimental, pumps of his hand but already you felt like you might come.

“Do you always think of me?” He asked.

You answered honestly, “No.”

“Oh.” His hand paused momentarily and continued on.

“But thinking of you is the only way I can come.”

“Ohhhh…” he flushed.

You dropped your hand to his front and moved it under the elastic band of his pajama pants until your fingers wrapped around his already fully erect cock. He tried to keep his focus on you as you rubbed the sticky wet precum from his head down his shaft. It was so thick and hard in your hand you could feel your mouth water. There was a grunt released from deep in his throat with every pump of your fist.

“Slow down.” He gasped “There’s no way… I won’t last.”

“Well…” you lifted your free hand to his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

“Say something.” He whispered against your lips.

“You don’t have to make me come like this.” you offered, “You could just fuck me, it’s okay.”

He shook his head and worked his hand faster. “No, you get both.”

You leaned back into the pillow with a moan as he dropped his head to your naked chest. His tongue brushed against your nipple, twirled around it. He sucked it into his mouth as his fingers curled inside you.

“Oh, Baek...Baekhyun.” You whimpered. “Your hands…”

“Tell me about my hands.”

“They’re magic.” He hummed with laughter. “I’ve never felt anything so amazing in my life.”

“Are you gonna come for these hands?”

“Yes, yes…” you gasped “Yes, oh. Oh yes, right there. Right. There.”

“You’re close.” He panted hot air over your skin, “I can feel it. Come on baby, get there for me.”

“I am!” You couldn’t stop the scream, “I’m coming! I’m coming! FUCK!”

He kept his fingers buried inside of you as you came down from your orgasm, loving the way it felt as you contracted around him. After a minute had passed Baekhyun removed his hand from between your legs and leaned back beside you with a sigh. You looked over at him breathlessly and he turned to look at you. He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean of you. You blushed as he hummed with delight. Then he smiled and his smile turned into a laugh of disbelief. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Reaching out you brushed your thumb against his cheek, “Thank you.”

“I bet you can thank me better than that.”

You raised an eyebrow at his cheeky comment, “I can. Would you like that?”

“Maybe later.” He grinned, “Right now I kind of just want to be inside of you...if that’s okay?”

With a slightly nervous gulp you nodded. Then you watched as he got up and dragged his pants and boxers off his hips. You pulled your own pants and underwear down as well. Sitting back down on the blankets he grabbed your hand and pulled you over until you were sitting on his lap again.

“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” You teased.

A simple, happy hum escaped him. “I’m sure.”

Neither of you said anything else as you reached down between your legs. Baekhyun inhaled sharply as your fingers wrapped around him again, adjusting him to where he needed to be. You groaned as you sunk down onto him, taking him in. Grabbing your hips he held you still for a moment, wanting to take in the feel of finally being inside of you. You didn’t mind as you were adjusting to the stretch from the girth of him.

“Oh god, oh my god.” He groaned. “You feel so good, you don’t even have to move.”

“Am I better than your hand?” You smirked as you leaned down for a kiss.

He inhaled sharply as you began to roll your hips nice and slow. “My hand? Never of her. All I know now is you.”

You laughed and then tensed at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you. The two of you moved together so perfectly as he let you take control. You were pretty certain even if he wasn’t the first person you’d had sex with in nearly three years he’d still be the best. Whimpering out your pleasure against his lips you kept on while your foreheads, beading with sweat, pressed together. Hands still gripping onto your hips Baekhyun pulled you closer, burying himself deeper.

“Still think I’m a tease?”

“No,” moving one of his hands from your hips he landed a smack against your ass, “I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Jerking forward you released a satisfied groan. Your legs tightened around him and he moved his hips up to meet yours, matching every thrust. His neck bloomed red as he gasped against your chest. As he licked at the sweat that gathered on your skin your eyes rolled back. Your hands slipped up his back, nails digging into his shoulders until he hissed.

“I’m gonna com- fuck Y/n…” he threw his head back in pure ecstasy.

His neck was stretched out so long, little veins popping out prominently along the length as he worked harder to get to his orgasm and yours. Never before did you have the urge to dig your teeth into someone but Byun Baekhyun was a treat that made your mouth water.

With a shake of your head to clear your thoughts you kept going, kept grinding down onto him. The little grunts and groans that escaped your lips were driving him crazy. His shoulders were growing red from tension. The muscles in your thighs were aching. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pulled him in as close as you could.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” You gasped, “I’m there, Baek. I’m right here with you.”

“Good.” He muttered breathlessly as he kept going.

Every muscle in your body tensed as he threw his hips into you as hard as he could. Then you slowly eased with release. Baekhyun had grunted when you tightened around him, milking out his matching orgasm, coating you in warmth.

You stayed on his lap for a few minutes, the mess of the both of you dripping down your thighs and pooling into his lap. You weren’t entirely sure why you didn’t move. Only knowing you wanted to be as close as you could to him for just a little longer. He didn’t seem to mind. He just sucked gently on the skin of your shoulder, catching his breath until you were ready and pulled yourself off.

One you’d gotten off his lap you laid down on the blanket beside him and he released a deeply satisfied sigh, crashing down onto his back. “That surpassed...every single one of my fantasies of you.”

“Did it?” You hummed thoughtfully. “I just can’t believe we could have been doing this the whole time.”

He kissed your temple and chuckled lightly, “Whose fault is it that we weren’t?”

“Don’t be mean.” You pouted. “We were having such a nice moment.”

“You’re right.” He grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. “I’m sorry.”

Your hands moved around his neck, holding him close while your tongue moved across his lip. The two of you kissed for a while and then you felt him start to stiffen against your hip once more.

“Wanna do it again?” You whispered against his mouth.

“Absolutely, I do.”

He continued the kiss as his hands moved down your body. His arm tucked under your leg and he flipped you so you were on your back. You watched as he slipped down your body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. He didn’t say anything before he buried his face in the mound between your thighs.

A groan vibrated against you. It sounded like he’d just gotten a mouth full of his favorite meal for the first time in years. You tensed all over as his wet tongue swirled and flicked at your tingling clit until he sucked it between his lips. He kissed your lips and sucked you into his mouth until your eyes were rolling back.

“Baek!” You gasped, “You’re so good at that, what the fuck?”

Baekhyun hummed happily and continued on. His magic fingers found their way inside of you once more and you’d become so wet that the sound was nothing but lewd. It was almost too much for you to take. As you inched closer to your third orgasm you reached down and grabbed at his head with both hands. You were pretty sure he laughed while he dropped his messy hand down to stroke his cock, using your abundance of arousal to get himself ready. A violent shiver moved down your body with your orgasm, your back arching completely off the ground.

“Oh Jesus fucking christ!” You screamed, “I...”

As he moved back up your body you continued to shiver, tiny moans filling the air. Your hands stayed fisted in his hair and every part of you was tense. He watched as you caught your breath, kissing your collarbone and your neck.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“It’s just a lot. After so long… overwhelming.” You were gasping out breaths.

“Let’s stop.” He suggested but he didn’t sound at all angry or disappointed.

You shook your head, “No, that’s not fair. I can do it. I can take it.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes, I want it. I want you.” You pulled his lip between yours for a quick kiss, “Please, Baek? I want you so bad.”

Pushing himself up over you he reached down again. His tip brushed gently against your still wet, very sensitive sex and he eased in. You winced slightly at the feel but relaxed once he was fully inside.

“Slow, okay?” Your voice came out quiet, almost innocent.

With a nod he started a deliberate roll of his hips. You lifted your legs so they were wrapped around him and urged him closer and deeper. Both of you were dripping beads of sweat as he took his sweet time. Each of the moans that escaped you perfectly matched the mixture of pain and pleasure that consumed you.

“I swear, I’m almost there.” He promised after a few minutes with a heady groan. “Oh god. You just feel good. I can’t…I can’t explain it.”

Reaching your hands up you held his flushed cheeks in your palms, “Baekhyun, I really love you.”

“I love you too.”

As he held himself up above you, you watched him lift his face to the sky. His neck stretching out before you once more like an offering. This time you couldn’t hold back. Lifting yourself up you latched your teeth to his skin. It wasn't a gentle tickle but you didn’t draw blood either. His mouth dropped open with a surprised gasp and he inhaled with a hiss as he came, his hips stilled.

“Sh-shit…” the warmth of him inside of you paired with the pressure of him pressed so deep took you over the edge one more, almost painful, time.

Your teeth dug into your lip to stifle a soft sob. You wrapped your arms around his body and pulled him down onto you. Arms tightening around him as much as they could.

“You okay?” He asked, leaving kisses against your sweaty temple.

“Mmm. Just don’t move.” you pleaded, “I just need a second, it’s a little too much.”

Baekhyun nodded, not moving besides to leave soft kisses on your chest and neck. He waited until you gave him the okay and then he removed himself slowly and collapsed beside you a second time. You rolled into his side, throwing your leg over his thigh and resting your head against his shoulder.

The two of you laid there for sometime, quiet, his fingers trailing over your bare skin. As if getting a sudden burst of energy Baekhyun sat up, greatly disturbing your comfort, and reached over to his pile of things near the candle campfire. When he laid back down next to you he had his instant camera in hand.

“No.”

“Why not?” He pouted immediately, still messing with the settings regardless.

“There’s no way I look cute right now.” You argued.

“You’ve never been more wrong in your entire life.” He said and eased back down beside you. “Come on. Just one. For me.”

“One.” You said sternly.

His smile stretched even wider, which you didn’t think was possible, and he leaned towards you. You moved a little closer to him while he stretched his arm out to take a selfie. Thinking quick, just before he pushed the button, you snuck a kiss against his cheek. With a laugh he grabbed the instant film as it was released and held it out so both of you could watch as the picture came through.

You laughed when you saw his face, eyebrows raised in shock with the happy surprise. “Okay, it’s cute, but only because of you.”

He pulled the picture close to his face and blushed happily, “You’re so in love with me.”

“Let me see.” you grabbed his hand and bought the photo closer. You could see it, it was clear. Even though it was just a tiny, low quality picture you could see it. It was there in the way you looked at him like he was everything. You didn’t tell him you agreed, you just turned and kissed his shoulder. “I want another s’more.”

“Shame we’re out of chocolate.” He said, tucking the picture away to the side.

“We’re not.” you tugged the sheet you’d been laying on out from under him and wrapped it around yourself before crawling over to your backpack.

Baekhyun rolled over into his stomach and watched you. His eyes grew wide with realization. “You don’t…”

You looked over your shoulder at him and grinned before lifting your bar of birthday chocolate into view. “I do.”

“I can’t believe you were holding out on me.”

“If you really love me, you’ll forgive me and make me another.” You said as you crawled back over to him and dropped the chocolate on the pillow.

“I’ll make you a s’more if you let me take a booby pic.” He smirked.

“Baekhyun!” you laughed as you shoved his chest. “No way, you little perv.”

“I won’t show anyone! I swear.” He placed his hands together in a prayer. “Please!”

With a roll of your eyes you dropped the sheet to your hips. For a moment he just sat and stared at you, as if he’d completely forgotten why you’d done it in the first place. Then he quickly scurried to grab the camera and shoot his shot.

Tugging the sheet back up around you, you laid back down. “S’mores!”

These ones were way better than the first. Though you weren’t entirely sure it was just because of the chocolate you used. It could have been the chocolate. You just suspected that it was more so kissing the chocolate off of Baekhyun's lips. Or him sucking your fingers clean of melted marshmallow. Or the way it made you feel every time he whispered that he loved you just before pressing his sugary lips against your skin, which happened quite a bit.

You hadn’t used the word perfect to describe a single day since the invasion. At least not unless it was sarcastically. But this day? This day had been perfect. You tried not to think about how many days you could have had like this one. How many days with him you’d missed out on because you were too scared to get hurt. You didn’t want to think about how few of these days you were actually going to get. You’d told him you’d stop worrying, so you weren’t going to let yourself ruin this perfect day.

“I hope you know,” you said with your chin resting on his chest once all the chocolate really was gone, the marshmallows had been devoured, and the two of you were dressed once more. You looked up at him. “Now that I love you or whatever, you really can’t let anything happen to you. If you do. I swear, if you died, I’d be forced to kill you.”

His eyes blew wide and his smile even wider as he wrapped your head in a bear hug against his chest, “Aw! You love me!”

“I already said I did. Several times.” you grumbled. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you from his suffocating embrace and looked down his nose at you thoughtfully. His soft fingers dragged across your forehead, brushing away loose hairs and tucking them behind your ear. He ran his thumb over your lips and his eyes moved over every inch of your face like he was committing you to memory. You had a sneaking suspicion it was something he’d wanted to do for sometime.

You felt incredibly vulnerable, in a way that you never had before. However nothing about it was as unpleasant as you’d always assumed that sort of vulnerability would feel. Instead it was calming. Something about opening yourself to him felt so safe, it felt like it was something you’d been desperately missing. Finally, he slipped his fingers through your hair and dipped his face to yours for a soft kiss.

“I thought you were going to fight me for the rest of our, probably short, lives.”

“I still might.” you joked.

“Okay,” he nodded in quick acceptance. “You can keep pretending to hate me. Just so long as you kiss me like you love me.”

In response you pulled his lip between yours and squeezed him tighter. The kiss lasted a long while. Soft and slow. You were so warm and comfortable, you wondered if it was possible to fall asleep in the middle of a makeout session. As if reading your thoughts Baekhyun pulled slowly away from your lips. He kissed your nose, your forehead and then the top of your head. Then, with your head on his shoulder he grew quiet beneath you and you assumed he’d fallen asleep. Even if he had, there was something you needed to confess.

“I’m sorry.” you whispered.

He hummed against the top of your head, “For?”

“Taking so long to come around.”

He smirked, though you couldn’t see it you could hear it in his voice. “Yeah, I bet you’re feeling preeetty stupid right about now. Knowing you’ve been missing out on all this.”

“Ugh, so annoying.” you puffed out a quiet laugh. “I hate you so much.”

“I know.” he tightened his embrace around you, “I love you too.”

His hand moved gently over your back but you couldn’t quite fall asleep.

“Baek,” you whispered and he hummed again in an acknowledgement that he’d heard you. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I hope you know I never will.”

[regrettablewritings]

Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,262

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, implied s-lf h-rm, sickness/description of sickness, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: prepare yourself for copious helpings of Patton angst in this chapter :)

...

Logan sat quietly in the back seat of his parent's car, leaning his head against the window. Everything remained silent for a long time. Eventually, his father cleared his throat from behind the wheel, moving his shoulders a bit.

"Son, your mother and I have something to tell you." His voice was strong and stern, as it usually was, but Logan sensed some excitement behind it.

"Oh?" Logan replied. His mother put her hand on his father's arm, and whispered something Logan couldn't quite hear.

"Nonsense. Of course this is a good time." Logan's father shook his wife's hand off, and looked at Logan through the rear view mirror. "Logan, do you remember that I told you I was having a meeting with some of my friends from Yale and Harvard?"

Logan's father had attended Harvard as a pre-grad, studying business, and went to grad school at Yale. Logan nodded, remembering that his father had had lunched with them on Sunday afternoon.

"Yes, father."

"Well, I have some wonderful news. As you are aware, some of them are on the staff, and are good friends with head of admissions," with each word, Logan's father grew more and more cheery, but never retired his intimidating demeanor. "So I had a word with some of them, and to make a long story short," Logan saw a hint of a smile on his father's face, "You have an opportunity for an exclusive shadowing of both schools." His father looked at him now through the rear view mirror again, expecting a certain reaction.

Logan's mind raced. He couldn't let that show, though. "That sounds excellent father, I'm looking forward to it. I know this could mean so much for my future. Thank you kindly."

"Of course you're looking forward to it. This is an opportunity that comes once in a lifetime!" His father was grinning now, but focusing back on the road. His mother looked back at him with a concerned look, and Logan eyed her curiously. Why does she seem so reluctant? Doesn't she know what this means to me? To father?

"Indeed. When would we go?" Logan asked, shifting in his seat a bit.

His father's smile faltered a bit. "Not until March, next semester." He focused on driving then.

"Understandable and adequate," Logan responded, returning his gaze to the houses passing outside.

...

Virgil sat on the bus, hunched over his phone, scrolling through Tumblr. As he looked around again, always anxious and aware of other people, his phone buzzed.

Mom <3: Hey sweetie. How are things going? We love you :) <3

Virgil smiled at the text, and opened it up.

Virgil:  hi mom.  i 'm on the bus, headed home. be there in ~20 min. love you too

He closed his phone then, putting it away and letting himself get lost in the sounds of fallout boy.

about twenty minutes later, adhering to his estimation, Virgil walked up the steps to his front door, turned the key in the lock, and opened it. His mother had her back to him and was standing over the stove, handling a large pan and humming sweet nothings to herself. His father was sitting on the couch in the living room, thumbing through yesterday's paper.

"Hey," Virgil said, kicking his shoes off by the door.

"Hey there honeybunch!" His mom called sweetly from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready in ten. Will you let your brother know?"

"Sure mom," Virgil said, walking over and giving his mom a kiss on the cheek. He then walked to the living room, and greeted his father with a hug.

"Hey, son! Have a good day?" He asked.

"Heh, yeah dad. Dinner's ready in ten, don't keep mom waiting again," Virgil teased. His father often was late to the dinner table on account of his reading.

"Don't worry, I won't kiddo," His dad said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"And Virge," His mom stopped him as he walked towards the staircase, "Let Addie know that if he sets the table, there's a cookie or two in it for him, will you?"

Virgil smirked. "Sure, mom."

Virgil walked upstairs and turned down the hall, walking into his brother Atticus' bedroom.

Atticus was sitting on the end of his bed, enthralled in a game of Mario Kart, surrounded by stacks of superhero comics. He didn't acknowledge his brother entering until Virgil turned off his PS4.

"Hey! I was about to win!!" Atticus complained. Virgil just walked over and gave his little brother a good noogie.

"Dinner's almost ready. Be a good little boy and go set the table will you? It might mean a treat for desert," Virgil bargained.

"How do you know?" Atticus countered.

"I had a little talk with mom, and she said how much she loves for you to set the table, and that if you did it tonight, she'd let you have two cookies after dinner," Virgil pressed. Atticus made a face, as if weighing his options in his head, and eventually begrudgingly hopped off the bed and stalked down the hall.

Virgil dropped his stuff off in his own room, throwing his backpack in a corner and checking his eyeshadow in the mirror. A flash of light caught his eye, and he looked over on his desk to see...

a pair of scissors, sprawled open on his essay draft for Mr. Berry. there was some blood, and some of it had smeared on the paper. The blood looked fresh, or at least Virgil knew it was. It was less than 24 hours old.

"Virgil honey, Dinner!" He heard his mother's voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming!!" Virgil shouted, putting the scissors in one of the drawers of his desk along with the bloody homework assignment. Walking out of his room, he made one last glance at the drawer, and then shut his door.

...

Patton stepped off the bus, and began pacing in the direction of his house. he lived across town from school, so the bus ride often brought him to his destination around sunset. At least it gave him time to do what homework he could before returning to the chaos of his home.

the neighborhood he lived in was once rather nice, a solid middle class area, but since then many houses had been abandoned or rented by their owners to less well-off groups, so it wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing area. however, it wasn't particularly unsafe or crime-ridden, so it wasn't unlivable.

Patton's mind raced as he neared his home. He wondered if his brother would be conscious when he got there, how his mom would be feeling. though he took care of her as best as he could, they couldn't afford medical insurance and she only seemed to be getting sicker.

he finally arrived in front of the house, walked up the walkway and up a few stairs onto the porch, and went to reach for his key when he noticed the door hanging slightly ajar.

Stricken with slight panic, Patton opened the door all the way and rushed inside, immediately seeing a dark slumped figure at the end of the hall. he shut the door behind him and turned on the hall light, revealing that the figure was his brother Hailen, unconscious and cradling a small syringe in one hand.

Patton approached his brother and knelt down to examine the situation. The crook of Hailen's elbow on the other arm had a small trickle of blood seeping down his forearm a few inches. He'd stirred a small bit when Patton had shut the door, so he still had something left in him. Patton took the syringe and went to the bathroom, throwing it away and grabbing a small first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, and returned to Hailen to clean and patch up the place he'd injected himself.

Once he was cleaned up Patton helped Hailen up and half carried him, his arm draped across Patton's shoulders and Patton's arm supporting his torso, to their shared bedroom. He laid him on the bed and brought him a glass of water, pulled the blanket over him and left the room. Now that he'd taken care of his brother, his bigger concern took his full attention.

He walked back out into the hall and to his mother's room, and knocked gently on the door. When no reply came, Patton opened the door slowly. The room was very dim, just some moon rays shining through a small window near the ceiling. there was a mound of comforters and blankets on the bed which Patton knew contained the most important person to him in the world.

he stepped carefully to the side of the bed, and saw, in the nest of blankets, the resting pale face of his mother. some strands of her dark hair splayed on the blankets and pillows around her head.

"Mom?" Patton said, his voice awfully small, putting a hand gently on where he assumed her shoulder was. She stirred and began coughing, and opened her eyes. She smiled as much as she could when she saw her younger son standing there, looking somehow cheerful and loving as ever. "hi mom, how did you feel today?" he asked softly. She went to clear her throat to speak but began coughing again.

She regained herself and spoke, in a small and raspy voice. "I think I'm starting to get a bit better. I was..." she sneezed. "ugh- i was able to eat about half the soup you left me this morning." she gestured to the bowl of green slop on her bedside table , that appeared to have been partially eaten.

"That's wonderful," Patton smiled wider. "How's your fever? here, let me check your temperature," he said, retrieving the thermometer from her bedside table.

"it feels a bit better. I'm not so sweaty today," She said as Patton cleaned the tip of the thermometer and turned it on.

"I'm so glad. Open," he said, and she opened her mouth slightly. He set the thermometer in, and she closed her mouth, and they waited.

"I'm so sorry we can't get you to a hospital," Patton whispered. "I'm really trying to find work, there's just not many places that have open positions with hours i can work." The thermometer beeped and Patton took it out of his mother's mouth.

"Please sweetheart, you're already carrying this family and balancing your schoolwo-" She went into another small coughing fit.

"Please, don't speak, it just hurts your throat mom," Patton replied. She simply nodded. "Well, you're at 101.2, lower than yesterday. That's good news." He smiled to her, and she attempted to return it. "Now I'm going to go and get you some medicine and water. Would you like to try to eat a bit too? i can make some more soup?" He asked. She nodded. "Okay, I'll be right back." He took the bowl of old soup and turned on his heel. As he reached the door, she spoke again.

"Is your brother okay? I heard him come in earlier, and fall... he didn't sound too good." she whispered so as not to irritate her throat, and it was nearly inaudible. Patton sighed.

"He'll be okay. I got him to bed. Don't worry about it too much," He turned back and smiled.

Patton made his way to the kitchen which, unlike most of their house, was somewhat well kept. He got a can of soup from the pantry and turned on the stove, setting a small pot on it. Then he retrieved his mother's medicine from the refrigerator, a bottle of murky purple syrup that looked a bit toxic, and smelled like synthetic grapes. He poured a bit into a small measuring cup and put the bottle away.

Where had he been all day? How was he even getting heroin? What's going on with him? ... doesn't he know mom needs us?

The pot was hot enough now, so he opened the can and poured the contents into the pot, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring gently. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water, and a single cube of ice from the freezer. The soup was nearly done, so he grabbed a bowl as well. Noticing there was definitely enough soup for two bowls, he grabbed another, and filled them with equal portions.

I should try to get him to eat at least. I should figure out how to detox him as soon as possible. Gosh, I hope Mrs. Hanson isn't too mad I didn't quite finish my first draft tomorrow.

He brought the first bowl, the water, and the medicine to his mother, making sure she got all the syrup down. Leaving her to rest and try to eat, he took the second bowl and slung a small towel over his shoulder, heading back to his room.

His brother was stirring more now, murmuring quietly in a seemingly foreign language, his eyes slightly open and glazed. Patton tried to get him to sit up, and Hailen put what effort he could into helping. Eventually they got into a manageable position, with Hailen sort of half-laying on Patton's shoulder. Patton tried to spoon some soup into his brother's mouth, and it sort of worked; Hailen would swallow but some of the soup would always drip down onto the towel. Patton didn't mind, he was just glad his brother was able to get something in his system.

You'll get through this. I'm so sorry.

Hailen finished the soup and Patton wiped his mouth with a clean section of the towel, and laid him back down. He whispered a small goodnight to his brother, then threw the towel in the general direction of his laundry basket. He pulled off his clothes and laid down in his own bed, and willed himself to sleep. Things will get better, for all of us.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Book Four - Part 9

Dapper wakes up somewhere new, feeling unwell, while Trick struggles alone in his room. Red, Blue, and Dok come home to help.

Tws for imprisonment, major illness, psychosis, sedation, and verbal and physical aggression from Anti.

Part 9 - The Locked Room

Anonymous asked: Sorry for saying you were a joke... it's just that your source material didn't really paint you in a nuanced or multidimensional way, and that's mostly what we're all basing our understanding on... You're a bit of a prick tho

Your camera comes back to life in unfamiliar hands as afternoon light spills across black hair and turns it to gold. Silver turns you gently in his palms, curious and bright-eyed, the panic of the night before gone from his face. Closer up, you can see some of the ways in which he is not Mark - a pair of small scars across his chin, a habit of picking at his lips that leaves them raw and red, a gauge in one ear.

As for your camera, the tiny symbol of an eye that usually resides in the corner, either opened or unopened, has been replaced by a small, presumptuous G.

“Hi,” says Shep, sat on his bed and looking at you. He hears footsteps down the hallway outside his room and furtively tucks you against his side, waiting for the steps to pass before he draws you out again.

“Hi,” he repeats, beginning to smile. “This is cool. I actually have a way to talk to you. Yeah, no, it’s okay. My source material is a joke, that’s why I said it even before you did. But - a prick?”

He pauses, glancing away.

“A prick,” he repeats in a mumble. “I think that’s new… I like that, let me just…”

He hops out of bed and takes a journal from one of his dressers, and then opens it up to reveal a long list of descriptors, some more inane than others, all printed in scrappy handwriting down the lines of his notebook. There are general adjectives in some places - “strong,” “bold,” “foolish,” “cute,” “conniving,” “selfish,” “clever,” “sweet” - but other places have full phrases or apparently random words - “you fucking annoyance,” “loves kids,” “buddy,” “your own kind of superhero,” “my soldier,” “a joke Mark forgot about,” “martial arts nerd,” “eats all the fucking candy in the house” - and it goes on for pages and pages.

On the first open line, he pulls out a pen and writes “a bit of a prick.”

Anonymous asked: damn, shepard. what happened to you lot?

Shep puts down his pen and turns to you, grinning. “Ah, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that. It’s been a long… eight years? And you haven’t exactly kept up to date with me. Which isn’t your fault. I guess. Not really.”

He side-eyes you, flipping his pen between his fingers.

“Anyway, this is my first year back in Dark’s houses for a while. I was living in the city for a few years after Dark kicked me out because I kept, uh. Bringing criminals back to the house for interrogations. They said I brought too much attention to us, so they had Google throw me out. Guess I deserved it… it turned out to be mostly okay. I had my own apartment for a while. My own pet rat. I was teaching martial arts and making rent. Then I kind of got into some trouble trying to be a fucking hero again… and I got lonely. Stressed all the time. Can’t keep a girlfriend. Rat died. Kind of a breaking point for me. So I came back here. Because of course I did. Because I always do. Because I don’t have any purpose without somebody else fucking giving it to me.”

He sighs bitterly, scratching at the web of cuts on his leg from Anti’s vines last night. Some of them are fairly deep, but he’s just stuck a mess of Band-Aids over the top and went to sleep with a towel beneath his legs just in case.

Anonymous asked: are you happy with this, shep? i'm trying to figure out how much we can trust you.

“You can trust me entirely, we’re just not on the same side,” answers Shep frankly, raising his eyebrows at you. “What’s not to trust? I belong to Dark. That’s true. There you go. Make of it what you will. And as for being happy, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve done much nastier things for Dark and enjoyed them much more. Parts of my life are still hard on me, but I’ve done what Dark tells me for the better part of eight years, ever since I pulled my head out of my ass and realized Mark was never going to come back and make me a real hero. So now I make my own choices. Sometimes I make ones he probably wouldn’t make for me. Sometimes I make ones almost no one else would be able to make. And that’s freedom. That adrenaline… that knowing that you are changing someone else’s life, that you matter, even in the worst fucking way possible… that’s freedom.”

Anonymous asked: are you doing ok, shep? seems like your life's been a bit of a mess.

“Yeah,” laughs Shep. “Honestly, things are fine now. I’m just never getting out of this house, you know? I don’t know. Ippy moved out two years ago. Yan’s in prison and nobody wants to bust her out after what she did. Dark has Google throw out or kill anybody who annoys them. Wil travels half the year, Eric works at the aquarium, Host’s published, even the twins have jobs, haha. And Bim…”

Silver scratches bitterly at his legs, maybe trying to draw a little blood now, bored of the scabs.

“Ran off about four months ago,” he mutters. “I miss him. Asshole. Didn’t tell me where he was going. Doesn’t answer his phone. Could have taken me with him. There was nobody quite that chaotic. I don’t know, maybe Dark just killed him to stop him from making our faces too public like he always wanted to, the little showman. But no, it’s okay. I’m like Google, you know? I’m just always going to be stuck in this fucking house. But I like it pretty well. Dark keeps me busy. And I like when the others come visit. I’m pretty much friends with everybody. Maybe I’ll get another rat soon.”

He flashes you a sudden look of alarm, his hands drawing away from his legs.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m… first time I get to talk to you in years and I don’t have anything worth saying, I just - I can tell you stories! Maybe. Uh. I’m not good at telling stories. Ask Host. I should have taken video then so I could have something to show you. You’re going to forget again and then all of this will be for nothing and no one will even see me differently. Eight years! Fuck. Do you want to go talk to somebody else? I bet you do. Well, sorry I’m not good enough for you, okay? Guess I never was. Whatever.”

He shoves the camera onto the bed, picking tersely at his mouth.

The door swings suddenly open. A figure in a long coat leans against the doorway, crossing his arms.

“I can hear you being a little bitch all the way from my room,” drawls Host.

“Oh, fuck off!”

Host laughs and leaves him again. He’s not interested in chatting.

“This story isn’t about us,” he calls back at Shep. “Don’t damage the narrative integrity with your need for their attention. Let them see their baby brother. He’s not well.”

Anonymous asked: hey, shep, don't you start saying you're not good enough for us. no matter what mark says or did to you, made you a joke or whatnot, that doesn't mean you can't become something different. and i have no doubt that one day, people will know you, and people will love you. maybe you'll have your own story. you just... can't rely on mark to write it for you. sometimes you have to do things like that for yourself. and for what it's worth, i think you're pretty cool. you're different. for example, what's up with that book you just wrote in?

Shep grins weakly, acknowledging the foolishness of his own outburst.

“I try to get rid of the thoughts of him,” he says. “You should hear Dark snarl about the stories Mark told about them… but I’m just jealous. It’s stupid. And you guys - you never - ”

He shrugs and lets out a huff, the irritation fading again. He knows it’s all useless and unfair, but it never stops eating at him. What could have been. But he tries to cheer up for you.

“These are just things I am or might be,” he says, hefting the book. “Things other people have called me. I try to figure out which ones are true. And which ones I want to be. I’m not good at that part so much, though. Sometimes I decide I want to be, like, nice, but then next thing I know I’m shouting at somebody for looking at me wrong, ha. I’m glad the others put up with me. I mean, some of them are dicks. But we kind of make a team together.”

“I’m not what I was then,” he adds after a moment. “So maybe I broke away a little. But at the same time, I’m not sure the story I’ve told is the one that I wanted. Or the one that I want.”

Anonymous asked: it's okay, shep, we don't mind hearing you talk. could we go see dapper, though? i'm a little worried about him.

Shep lets out a sigh, breathing out some of his anxiety. “Yeah. Sure. Is that actually his goddamn name? We’ve got some pretty nutty names around here, but not ‘Dapper.’ I guess it’s kind of cute.”

He gets to his feet and scoops you up, wandering down the stairs. The house is quiet but for the whirling of a fan overhead and the buzzing of a show somebody left playing on the TV. Out in the yard, you catch a glimpse of a few of them playing badminton, dropping the birdie most of the time and then racing each other to pick it up and bring it back to their side. Wilford’s booming voice drifts into the house as though from much farther away than it is. Around their feet, barking joyfully, is a dog almost as enormous as Anti’s wolf-like form, wagging its tail furiously and racing to the birdie along with its owners.

“Actually,” says Shep, pausing outside the only door with extra locks. “I’m not sure Ippy will want me inside. Let’s see if he’s in here.”

He pushes the door gently open. Edward only glances up for a second before turning back to his notes. It’s a makeshift clinic room, barely even the size of the bedrooms, and it’s cramped with a desk and a bed and some examination equipment and dressers with supplies in them. Dapper’s on the bed, tucked up tight, asleep.

“What’s that?” asks Ippy.

“Uh, a camera.”

“Is it now?” he answers dryly.

“There’s an audience or something.”

“Is there someone who can tell me what’s going on with my patient?”

“Well. I guess. I think.”

Ippy reaches out, beckoning for the camera. Shep hands it over and Ippy drops you on the bed, still scrawling in his little notebook. “I’d like medical history, please, allergies, recent injuries, notable behaviors, sleeping habits, blood type, next of kin, etc. Start talking.”

Shep chuckles at his bluntness and pulls up a chair beside him, grinning at his friend as he works.

“What are you looking at?” mutters Ippy, and he reaches out to shove playfully at Shep’s head. “Called me in on my day off for this, huh. Fuckers. You’re lucky he’s actually sick or I’d be peeved.”

Anonymous asked: you can always change. seriously, shep, it's never too late to become someone different. and i'm sorry that none of us did anything. it's difficult, when mark made so many videos and gave so many more characters attention and left others with nothing. you did not deserve that, and i'm genuinely so sorry. does mark still even make videos? we haven't heard anything about him in a long time.

“You’re talking to them about this?” asks Ippy.

Shep shrugs, settling down in his chair.

“It’s very simple, Shepherd. Mark doesn’t have much control of his power and even if he did you were still early enough that you would have been created.”

“I know, Ip.”

“Telling a story about you would only limit your freedom and subject us to more publicity, which is dangerous.”

“I know, Ippy.”

“The audience can’t do anything for us without videos and them dwelling on the thought of us does not make you any more of a - ”

“I know, Edward!” snaps Shep. “Okay?”

Ippy rolls his eyes and turns back to Dapper.

“Mark makes videos sometimes, but he focuses on bigger productions,” adds Shep with a sigh. “I think he mostly wrapped up ego stuff, but you never know with him. We don’t talk. And ever since he got that bigger deal as a real producer - ”

“Can we not talk about Mark?” asks Ippy. “I don’t like hearing about him. He’s fine, I guess, but I just prefer to live a Mark-less life at this point, thanks. A life unmarked by Mark, as it were.”

“You really are peeved today.”

“I just have boundaries, Shep, maybe you should learn some.”

.

Dok wakes to the buzzing of the lights in the bathroom.

He shifts uncomfortably, feeling his back protest, but the cold plastic of a hospital chair is much better than waking up in that room back in the house, aching on the unfinished floor, dreaming of spiders crawling over his skin. He shudders and sits up, pulling his - oh. This is Red’s hoodie, wrapped around him. He sighs and glances at his brother splayed over the side of Blue’s bed, dead asleep.

The bathroom is silent but for those burning lights. He waits a long time, but nothing moves.

“Blue?” he calls wearily, getting to his feet. He knocks his fist gently against the door. “Okay? Want the nurse or something?”

Blue doesn’t answer.

“Hey, Blue, no silences,” he begs with a sigh, rubbing at his head. “Too many nights finding Trick hurting himself in the bathroom. Come on.”

Blue mumbles something. Dok grimaces and pushes open the door.

He’s okay, which he’s grateful for, though he’s almost too tired to be relieved. He steps forward and takes Blue carefully by the wrists. He was just standing there staring at them. Too intently. Too blankly.

“What’s going on?” asks Dok.

Blue turns to look at him and his eyes are fogged and all but blind. Dok touches his cheek to ground him, sighing in his brother’s stead.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry. Tell me what’s up.”

“I don’t… know. Just… looking at myself. So weird.”

“What’s weird?”

Blue reaches out and touches his own reflection on the surface of the mirror.

“Not me,” he mumbles. “More and more often, it’s not me. Not real. It makes me feel really… I don’t… I don’t like it.”

Dok shifts on his feet and pulls his sibling’s fingers away. “That’s called dissociation,” he says. “I get it too sometimes when Anti uses me. It can’t be easy having been possessed so often lately.”

Blue shakes his head numbly, managing to fix his eyes on him for a moment. “Dissociation,” he repeats.

“Let’s ground. Tell me three things about your body.”

“What?”

“Look. In the mirror. Tell me three things about yourself. Anything. Obvious things. It’s okay.”

Blue stares into the mirror, blinking. His mouth parts. But he doesn’t say anything. After a moment, there are tears welling in his eyes.

“Blue,” breathes Dok.

“Sorry,” repeats Blue frailly, turning away from the sight of himself, covering his face with his hands. He doesn’t want to see himself. He doesn’t want Dok to look at him. He doesn’t want anyone to look at him ever again.

“What’s going on?”

“I just want Anti’s fucking head, alright?” snaps Blue. “I just want to murder him. And then I’ll feel like myself again, and I’ll get my magic back, and then my body back, and we can have a chance to be okay again. And until then I just have to deal with this. Until I rip his goddamn throat out. Like I promised him I would. When my hands are covered in his blood, then I’ll feel better.”

Dok looks at him, taken a little aback. His hands curl together nervously on his stomach. He stares down at the floor.

Blue sighs bitterly through his teeth, shaking his head. “I know you don’t like talking about blood. Sorry.”

Dok shrugs. “Is fine.”

“Dok, I just can’t take much more, you know that, I know you feel the same way… surely you get this same bloodlust, don’t you, my darling? He’s been torturing you. Don’t you want to torture him back?”

Dok’s stomach turns. He takes a step back, shaking his head.

“I would not like to ever torture anybody ever again,” he says quietly. “I have had my fair share, thank you.”

They stand side-by-side in the bathroom, frowning together, cold.

“What if it doesn’t make it better?” asks Dok.

“What?”

“What if killing Anti doesn’t make it feel better?”

“Killing Anti will solve most every problem of mine I can think of,” answers Blue soundly, straightening up.

“Oh, goodness,” grumbles Dok, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even going to start with you.”

“Better not, you sassy little monkey man.”

“Monkey man? I am monkey man? How dare you say this.”

“Yeah. You’re bananas.”

“Blue, I will end you.”

But he’s laughing now and that’s what matters. Dok snorts and rolls his eyes, trying to let himself laugh a little too. He leaves the bathroom and flops down on his chair, gazing at Blue as he limps back into his bed and sits down. They look at each other for a long moment, trying to make each other smile with their own tired grins.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” whispers Blue. “I wish I could keep all of you safe.”

“Don’t have to be sorry,” Dok says again, letting his eyes slip shut. “I know you’re trying so hard. It’s not your fault at all.”

“I’ll kill Anti for you,” Blue swears, his eyes shining through the haze that seems to lie over them most days. “Then we can be okay again.”

“And what if we can’t?” asks Dok, barely even registering the words before he feels them leave his mouth. “What if we can’t kill him, Blue? What happens then?”

Blue stares out at the smog of the sky, wishing he could see the stars.

“Then I think he’ll kill us instead,” he answers simply. “And then, either way… it’ll be over.”

Dok nods slowly, not opening his eyes. Blue reaches out. They hold each other’s hands in the low light.

.

Anonymous asked: Hey there Ippy, we don't know much about Jameson medically, besides that he has schizophrenia and takes the medicine Haloperidol/Haldol, and he's allergic to rowan (as though he might be a chageling?). He's not a regular human either, he's basically Jacksepticeye's version of you guys.

“Ohhh,” says Ippy, standing slightly outside his clinic, arms crossed over his chest and eyes wide. “Schizophrenia. I’m relieved, actually. Because if this was fever delirium… we would have a problem.”

Google leaps out of the room, synthetic blood dripping down his neck, and slams the door hard behind him, panting. From within the room, hissing.

“Kid’s fucking nuts,” Gigi snarls.

“Kid’s fucking delusional,” answers Ippy sharply. “And that’s not his fault. This is on you for kidnapping somebody with a psychotic disorder.”

“He would have died there anyway,” sneers Gigi, stalking past Ippy. He has a red shirt now instead of blue. “That little monster wasn’t going to get him any help for that infection. And if you don’t do something fast, he’ll die here instead. He’s exhausting himself. Sedate him again.”

“No. Too much sedating. We have to calm him down. I’ll give him his Haldol intravenously so he can’t throw it up with this fever. You just have to steal some for me.”

“I only take orders from the Darkness,” answers Google.

Ippy sighs and shakes his head, turning stonily back to the door of his clinic. “If this doesn’t change, I’m sending him back to his brothers.”

“That place has no family. And Dark will speak with him before he’s let go. You get him well enough that he can have a discussion, then he’s free to go.”

Anonymous asked: JJ, honey, are you doing alright? I know you must be absolutely terrified right now, but at the very least you're getting medical treatment and they plan to give you back to Anti after you have a discussion with the Darkness. I know it'll be absolutely terrifying, but I think it's the only way to get home. Ippy is going to give you Haldol, if you'll let him? You'll feel much clearer if you do, then maybe you can make plans on what to do next.

JJ has not struggled this much with his symptoms since he and Red were homeless in Columbia and he knows it.

But he can’t make it stop.

“Tell my big brothers to come get me if they have to kill everyone in this house to do it!” his hands scream, and that is the last coherent thought you get out of him.

He moves! He has to move. He doesn’t just pace, he darts around the room, he races. His hands strike strike strike every surface. He pauses only for a moment to be sick over the waste basket, leaving him pale and dizzy, but even then his body is consumed by wracking spasms and shakes. He spins in a circle. He can’t stop looking at the lights no matter how hard he tries. His eyes are up, up, up. Fluttering, rolled back. Watching the light. Fixed on the light. If he looks away bad things will happen. The cameras told him so. Didn’t they? Someone did and he knows it must be true. He has to look at the light or the Darkness will get him.

“I’m already here,” whispers Dark’s voice in JJ’s head. He spasms and jolts back with terror, rubbing at his arms and shaking himself like he’s trying to act out a seizure, but despite his frantic motion and his fear, his face is numbed to any emotion, blank as it was when Red would struggle to understand him in Columbia. Dapper starts to sign wildly, but the words don’t make sense together to anyone but him.

“Skin. I was in. Blood up tree branch he made me go there and I didn’t want to! Can’t Red come? Miss candy and bedsheets, where? The radio, turn down. Does my blood come up? Does my blood rise?”

Ippy peeks his head inside the room. Dapper turns and sends a lamp flying towards him, smashing it against the wall, and Ippy ducks away again. Dapper grins joylessly, with his teeth, his eyes rolled towards the lights on the ceiling. He holds up his wrists and his hands dangle as though on string. Then he crumples to the ground, dazed and panting, scratching at the fever in his face.

“Jackie,” he begs. “Chase.”

Anonymous asked: dapper, jamie, my dear. you're okay, yeah? we would tell you if we thought you were in danger. and now i'm telling you to try to be calm, okay? we'll tell you if we think you're in danger. i promise.

For just a moment, he manages to drag his flickering eyes over to you. There’s a red light on the camera. That counts, right? Does it? His hands search the floors for his bear. Trick packed his things. Didn’t he? But what if it was a trick? Isn’t that why he named him that? Also guns and grey shirts.

He rubs at his aching, pounding head, and swats at a tactile hallucination on his legs. Just a snake, though, and those you don’t have to worry about. It’s dogs and cats that will tear their teeth into you.

He registers the promise vaguely, but his paranoia is so high he could be home safe and sound and still feel that Dark was slowly killing him. He casts his eyes over your message, counting the y’s. Nine. Does that mean something? He knows it means something. The universe is trying to talk to him. God is trying to talk to him. He just needs to listen.

Anonymous asked: ippy's gonna get you your haldol, okay? he's kind. he won't hurt you. do you think you can agree to that, dap? that way, if you are in danger, it'll be clearer, and if it's a hallucination that'll be clearer too.

He would like his Haldol. He would. That’s one of the only mercies Anti usually grants him. He registers that someone is coming into the room and you said it was okay. He rocks his head back and forth, trying to think, feeling drool clinging to his lips. Where is he?

Ippy tries again. Creeping, patient, quiet.

“Are you feeling up to talking?” he asks quietly, when he manages to get into the room without being assaulted. Dapper learned from Anti and when he does not have a blade he makes use of his teeth and his mean white fingernails.

Dapper rocks his head, still trembling from the catatonia, burning with fever.

“I don’t know where to fucking start,” Ippy mumbles, kneeling down beside him. “You’re going to puke up your medication. Google might get you some of the liquid stuff, might not. Depends how generous he thinks he’s being. And what Dark tells him…”

Dapper shudders, baring his teeth.

“Please turn down the radio,” he says, clawing at his ears between signs, but it just looks like more frantic movement to Ippy. “So many people talking all at once.”

“Can I give you something for the fever?” asks Ippy, getting up to get him some water and medicine. “Yeah? Try to keep you hydrated? I need to look at your wrist.”

Dapper clutches his arm to his chest, squirming. “Anti? You’re playing games with me? Can I come out, please? Been good.”

scunneredzombie asked: Jay, they're going to give you some of your medicine. You have a really bad fever right now, it's most likely making the psychosis much much worse. We're here to help and so is Ippy. You will be okay. Breathe, Dapper, just breathe. You will get through this. Remind yourself of things you know are real, things that are unchanging and true no matter what. Cling to those for now. That's what I do during my psychotic episodes.

What’s real? What’s unchanging? What’s true?

Dapper squints his eyes up at the light on the ceiling and tries to think. His hand is still searching for his things. Ippy passes his backpack towards him and Dapper finds his bear, dragging his gaze down to it. Red and Blue and Dok got it for him for Christmas this year. He’s had it for months, even in Columbia. The fur is alpaca. It doesn’t feel quite like any other texture. Cloudy and thick at the same time. Warm. It still smells, faintly, of their home in Peru.

He tries to breathe.

“Okay, I’m going to try to give you some medicine here,” Edward warns him carefully, moving closer. “It’s good for you. Just to bring the fever down a little. I’ll look at your wrist again here in a minute.”

JJ scoots away, shaking his head, but it only makes him dizzy. A hundred voices speak to him. Edward’s is rich and deep and all too familiar. He concentrates on the faint beep of the camera, a sound he’s grown used to over months and months of what would otherwise be total loneliness.

He hopes Trick is okay at home. He’s sorry he left him alone.

Anonymous asked: yeah, you're doing well, dap. just gotta hang on a little longer, okay? and ippy will help you, dap. you don't have to trust him, but you trust us, don't you? and we trust him. it's okay, dap. you're gonna be okay.

Ippy takes his chin in his hand and angles him towards him.

Nope.

Anchors fall away and Dapper feels something inside himself snap. This has always been the rule. This has always been the rule, the rule he has learned since his creation: no one touches him but Anti and his brothers.

No one.

And the punishments he’s seen Anti inflict on those who broke that rule -

Dapper does not often wish for a voicebox that works. But right now, all he wants to do is fucking scream.

His teeth flash and bite down hard on Ippy’s hand, making Dark’s look-alike yelp in alarm. Dapper slams their heads together and grabs him by the throat, burning with fury, burning with fear, burning alive on a pyre he did not set, and then Google is there, and he has him by the hair, and he shoves a needle deep into the neck of Anti’s most savage attack dog.

Dapper quails, gripping frantically at Gigi’s hand. He chokes and looks up into deep brown eyes. There is no red glow.

He slides to the ground, asleep. Google lets him go.

“Alright?” asks Google quietly.

Ippy swears under his breath and puts his hand to his forehead, teeth marks indented in the skin. “I’m fine, goddammit.”

“Keep him asleep til he’s better,” says Gigi. “I will not tell you again.”

Edward shakes his head slowly, biting his lip, but he doesn’t protest.

Jamie sleeps. The fever is burning in his flesh.

Anonymous asked: Trick is right, Anti. You keep asking, multiple times now, "why did this all fall apart?" And the answer is because you constantly excuse your cruelty, excuse your abuse and all the pain you cause, by blaming Jack and saying you "can't control yourself". You, sir, are just as capable as anyone else in the world of controlling your temper and controlling your aggression. You need to stop making excuses. They will leave over and over and over if you do not change.

“Leave over and over,” mutters Anti under his breath, his eyes angry, aglow in the morning light through the great window in the master bedroom.

Trick is still asleep, though he shifts now, his hair mussed around his eyes. The roots have turned brown. The bright green is beginning to fade to yellow.

Anti wraps his arms around his waist, tugging him close. Trick rolls over with a yawn, trying to rise, but Anti’s grip holds him in place. Trick cracks open an eye and finds himself pressed against him.

“Anti, hey, wake up,” he mumbles, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. “Lemme go. I want a shower and some coffee.”

Anti is already awake, but Trick can’t see that, and he doesn’t move. Trick pauses. He starts trying to squirm out of Anti’s arms without moving enough to wake him if he is sleeping, but he doesn’t have much luck. Anti tightens his arms around him as he tries to escape.

“Anti?”

Anti glares out the window, ignoring his wriggling. Eventually, blinking in surprise, Trick just stays in place.

Leave over and over. Anti grips his ribs until his fingernails put cuts in Trick’s shirt. Leave. Ha. He isn’t going anywhere.

Anonymous asked: are you alright then, anti?

Anti gets out of bed after a half hour has passed. Trick is hot and uncomfortable, needing to stretch and change out of his sweaty sleeping clothes and use the bathroom. But he’s stopped struggling by the time Anti releases him.

The glitch gets to his feet and picks out an appearance for the day in the mirror, settling on the younger man he wore when Dapper was created, ruffling teal hair in the mirror. Trick sits up and gives him a smile. Anti doesn’t answer your question, but the way he looks at Trick - he focuses on the bruises someone left in his wrist as they pulled him along. Something simmers in Anti’s eyes. He turns towards the door.

“Where are you going?” asks Trick, hurrying out of bed. “Hey - Anti? Come on, have breakfast with me or something. Don’t leave me, dude.”

“I have to go get your little brother,” answers Anti. “Just stay here, Trick.”

“Anti, I - ”

He glitches away.

Trick stares at the door, mouth slightly parted.

Anonymous asked: You gonna do something that will stop Dark from kicking your ass a second time?

“Where in the narrative did Dark kick my ass?” snaps Anti, stalking into the forest. “Last I checked I was tearing them and their fucking soldiers a new one when Bubblegum McGee scoops my kiddo off the ground and disappears like the deranged little thief he is. And then all of them went sprinting for the hills. No. When I find Dark, I’m burning down everything they love and tearing apart that mangled excuse for a spine of theirs. Then we’ll see if they remember me.”

Anonymous asked: Trick? You want to talk for a bit?

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” says Trick, trying to recover quickly, nodding his head and straightening up. “Yes, please. House is super quiet without anybody else! Last time I was this alone was when Blue was in hospital and I’d come back to the house and try not to worry about everybody else too much. But I do have Noodle! He’s always got my back. I’m just going to get changed and then we’ll go make some breakfast and check on kitty cat, yeah? Doesn’t have to be a sucky day just cause things are trying to go bad. I can stay positive.”

Anonymous asked: Alright, we'll just have a bit of a "you" day. Decompress a bit. It's good to check in on yourself and have a little time off. (Give noodle some pets please!)

“Yes,” laughs Trick. He worries at his hands, yes, kneading his fingers into his palms, and you can see the edge of a breakdown somewhere in the back of his eyes, but he has survived a lot and he wants to prove to himself that he can be okay even without Dok sometimes. Maybe even to be okay when Dok isn’t, so he can look after him better. So he can look after all of them better.

Next time they’re scared enough to run away, he wants to be someone they can trust.

“Decompress - play some games, probably - chill with my cat - cook a ton - swim, maybe… yeah!” Trick pulls his shirt over his head and turns toward the door, grabbing the handle. “I’ll - ”

It’s locked.

Trick stops. Tries it again. Stares. Glances at you. Tries again.

It’s still locked.

He stands in front of the door. His hand rests on the door handle.

Outside, a mewl.

Anonymous asked: can the window open, trick?

“The… window?” he asks. “Yeah… yeah, it can. But I’m on the second story.”

He moves to the window and lets it swing open. The fresh air and the scent of the forest are refreshing, but the red brick of the patio is still several meters down.

Anonymous asked: where's noodle?

Claws pick at the carpet outside Anti’s bedroom. Trick hurries back to the door and kneels down, crouching to try and see his cat through the crack beneath it.

“Mrow,” complains Noodle loudly, scraping at the carpet with his claws out. “Meehhhh.”

“Daddy’s here, kitty cat, I’m right here.” Trick reaches for him as though he could pull him beneath the door. Noodle attacks one of his fingers, chewing on the end, but Trick doesn’t even mind. “Are you hungry? I’m sorry I didn’t let you out last night. Things were crazy, baby. But I’m coming, boyo, I’ll… I’ll, uh…”

What is he supposed to do?

Anonymous asked: do you think anti will be mad if you leave the room?

“I don’t know. It was probably an accident.”

Noodle yowls on the other side of the door. Trick stares at his kitten’s paws, his eyebrows drawn back in worry. You see him look down at his feet.

He knows it wasn’t an accident. And he wouldn’t have locked it if he was okay with Trick leaving.

Anonymous asked: Okay unless we know a for our window downstairs is unlocked, I wouldn't use the window, don't want you getting locked out of the house entirely. You think you might be able to find a key or break the lock if you need to?

“It’s… maybe I could? I don’t want to get in trouble. But there’s no keyhole on this side. I’d have to really bust the door up. And then he’d be so angry.”

Trick steps back from the door, chewing on his nails. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

“Okay,” he says after a moment. “Okay. I wish he hadn’t done this, but he did. I’m safe in here. I have a bathroom with water and all the stuff I packed into a bag in case I got kidnapped is here. Dapper was keeping food in the drawers. I’m okay. But my poor cat…”

Anonymous asked: for now, at least, you can make sure noodle has food, right? is the food only in there? maybe you can grab a little something and push it under the door

“That’s a good idea. Okay, let me look.”

He goes back to the bottom drawer and pulls it open to reveal Dapper’s stash. He recoils a little, scrunching up his nose - he hadn’t realized how bad it smelled in the panic of last night, but now he notices.

“This is kind of nasty… we’ve only been here a couple weeks. Why would he keep - ugh, cheese!” Trick chucks the hot string cheese towards the trash, making a gagging motion. “He has to know this would go bad right away, right? Why even take it? Look, my cookies from last week. Hard as rocks cause he didn’t even ask me to wrap them. There’s lint on them. He just shoved them in his pockets. Fuck’s sake… oh!”

Here’s some stuff that should still be edible. Crackers still in their packs. A couple apples. Tupperware with brownies. One pack of raisins, one pack of dried cranberries. And a little pack of Dapper’s favorite - jerky. Most of it is gone, but there are a few good chunks still at the bottom.

“At least I can give him something, then,” says Trick, taking a breath.

Anonymous asked: Anti keeps his favorite trophy locked up in a case when not in use

Trick looks at you, eyes wide, and then away, trying to make himself scowl. He crouches down beside the door and pushes dried meat towards his cat. Noodle seems to accept the offering. He goes quiet and Trick hears him chewing. It’ll take him a while to get through that.

Trick sits back on his heels and stares at the door.

“Always wanted to be Anti’s favorite trophy,” he mumbles, something frightened and tired passing across his face. “Or thought I did, I guess.”

Anonymous asked: you have a choice, then, trick. do you want our help in leaving the room, to go to noodle? or will you stay here and wait for anti to come back and let you out?

Trick sighs and slumps down against the door, rubbing at his face. He stares out the window and thinks.

“You know… I think I’ll try to stay here for a while,” he says, giving you a smile that looks more like a grimace. “It’s not bad. We’ve definitely stayed in much worse places! I have lots of room and a clean bathroom and everything I need. Maybe I’ll take a bath. Yeah… it’s okay.”

He glances around the room. How long has he been in here? Two hours? Oh, twenty minutes. He bites his lip and sighs. He puts his head between his knees and rubs at the back of his neck.

“Always kind of knew it couldn’t really be fun for anybody to be locked in a room all day. But I thought maybe, with Dapper’s nerves, it was better for him just to stay up there with Anti. And when I imagined it, I guess I made everything nice. Him getting to eat his own food, sleep whenever he wants, just working on his art all the time. Doing whatever he wanted, you know? I usually imagined Anti actually… being here, though. Yeah. I guess that I thought that when he loved me, I’d be able to feel it.”

Trick pauses, looking up. Looking out at the sun.

“That’s always the thing with me, though,” he says. “Even when I know for a fact people love me - it doesn’t always feel that way. And I thought - well, Anti, he just… with his power, it’s like he can make me feel that way. Or maybe it’s just him. But those days when I would just spend all my time praying to impress him… and then he would brush his hand across my hair or smile at me… it would be my favorite part of the week. Like I finally got it all right. Like I’m finally worthwhile.”

He puts his head down again, looking at the carpet, his fringe falling into his eyes. It occurs to him that he doesn’t really like bright green. Or dying yellow.

“I love him,” he says, a little hollowly. “But I think maybe Dok was always right. Nobody else can magically fix me. I need to stop expecting Anti to put everything right in my head. That’s not fair to either of us. I should have been happier just being with Dok. Cause Anti gave me these bursts of joy, yeah, and he’s trying to be better to me these days - but Dok has been the earth beneath my feet for months now.”

He stares at the food in the drawer, rotting. He tugs uselessly on the door handle. He stares around the silent, empty room, and the silence stares back, and says nothing.

“I shouldn’t have been jealous of my little brother,” says Trick, heart sinking. “I should have been making sure he had ground to stand on too.”

Anonymous asked: yeah, i get that, trick. and i think anti does love you, as much as he can love someone anyway. although, trick, you don't have to answer this now, and if you don't want to talk about this right now i'll stop, but trick? if given a choice between dok and anti, who would you choose?

“Oh, hey,” protests Trick, a little weakly. “That’s family both, we don’t talk like that. Hey, it’s okay to love people in different ways, and I know you don’t like Anti. But the truth is that just because I’m closer to Dok, I would never ‘choose him’ over any of the others. We all gotta just love each other in the way we need. I want to do what’s best for all of them. If… if Dok and Red and Blue need some space from Anti, well… maybe they should have some. But even if I lived with some of them instead of the others, it’s not because I’m trying to pick someone as my favorite. We just all need different things at different times. Whoever needs me most is who I ‘choose.’ Whoever I can help. And I hope it’s always… all of them, you know? When you’re a family, helping one person is good for everyone.”

Anonymous asked: It's easy to fall into a "grass is greener" mentality but abuse is abuse no matter if you're crouched by a window with a gun, locked away in an attic, or running through the streets with stolen drugs. I don't blame you for wanting a higher standing with Anti but he's not going to give you what you want, to no failing of your own.

“Ha! Okay, fair… maybe being in the basement and being in the attic both kind of suck. But I’ve always had Dok. Having someone there with you is what makes it not sucky. Look, this house is fucking awesome! But there’s no one here with me right now. And that does kind of suck, even worse than when Dok and I were sleeping in the same pile of cheap blankets beside a window in a broken down cabin during a Norwegian fall. We had a good time in Norway, didn’t we? Before everything went wrong? Do you remember… we got fish in a restaurant in town, ha… and I got my crinkle paper…”

Trick pulls it out of the pocket of his basketball shorts and presses his fingers to the crinkly baby paper, familiar and fond. He smiles while his eyes grieve.

Anonymous asked: Those sound like fair conclusions, Trick. It sounds like you've been thinking a lot about yourself and how you've interacted with your family in the past. That's really good; well done. For what it's worth, I am really sorry you got left here alone. You don't deserve that. Are you sure you don't want help leaving, or looking for something else to do?

“Aww, you guys are like my therapists now,” laughs Trick, genuinely pleased. “That’s sweet, thanks. No, um… I’ll stay here a while, I guess. Think Dap would mind me looking through his sketchbooks? Maybe I’ll draw a little myself. Or… write, maybe. Yeah. Maybe I’ll write a little.”

Anonymous asked: trick, that's admirable. and i do mean that. you have a lot of loyalty. but trick, it's not just that they need some space from anti. anti has hurt them, time and time again. family doesn't hurt each other like that, trick. anti has gone too far, many, many times.

“I am loyal,” he agrees quickly, because that’s something he’s always known and one of the few things he’s almost always liked about himself. “Yes. Mh.”

He pulls his eyes away from the rest of the message uncertainly, fiddling with his hands as he sits down on Anti’s bed and pulls Dapper’s latest sketchbook off the bedside drawer. He’s grinning for a minute. They’re mostly pictures of animals. Some people scattered in there - dancers and babies and old people in love. Dapper’s good and he’s gotten even better since the last time Trick checked in on his art, which was… how long ago?

But there are other things in the pages too.

Faces that almost hurt from how familiar and yet unrecognizable they are. Images Trick recognizes from Dapper’s hallucinations, painful and threatening. One baby that is not like the rest in a way Trick can’t express. And… himself?

Himself burning?

Trick takes a moment to realize what this is. The night he got the burn that now laces from his palm to the back of his hand. He hadn’t realized Dapper remembered, or was even there, watching, as it happened.

In the image, a dark figure shoves him towards the fire. His shirt sleeve is already ablaze, his hand consumed, and yet - despite the fire, despite the pain, his eyes are like those of a monk in Mass, wide, adoring, tear-filled - and those eyes are fixed on the creature pulling him into the flame.

Trick shoves the sketchbook away from him, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he croaks, turning his face away from you. “Later. Okay? Later, I promise, just… not right now.”

It is the second time he has pushed your concerns aside in as many nights. There are messages waiting for him that he’s avoiding. But he still isn’t ready to hear it.

Anonymous asked: okay. that's okay, trick. do you wanna talk about something else, then? i can tell you a funny thing one of my birds did, if you'd like.

“Ha. Birds, wow, that’s awesome. Yeah, sure! Tell me.”

Anonymous asked: alright! so, my sister has an obvious favorite, and the bird knows it, and likes to hang out on people's shoulders and stuff. and today, she flew up onto my arm, and then stared at me face very curiously, and so i started talking to her, and she immediately tried to eat my teeth. very smart bird, who apparently does not quite get what is or is not food. she's very funny.

Trick snorts and covers his mouth with his hand. “Oh, no! I do not like the sensation I am imagining. A beak picking at my teeth, haha. Geez. Sounds like a funny bird. Noodle likes to try to eat toes when we move at night.”

Anonymous asked: oh, yeah, my friend's cats are kinda like that too. for a while, when they were kittens, we had to be careful because they would try to attack our feet. is noodle chaotic like that?

“Half the time he is nuts-o crazy boy, and then half the time he pretends he’s a perfect angel and he just wants all of Daddy’s attention and all of Uncle’s attention and everybody’s attention one hundred percent of the time. And he looks up at you and cries until you scratch him.”

Anonymous asked: oooo, do you write, trick?

“Well, I thought since I’m sure jabbering your guys’ ears off, I could write some shit down. Dok had me do that for a while once. It was right after… well, there’s blurry spots in my memory. It was right after I started being his twin. I was pretty low. I was, um. Self-harming a lot. Losing a lot of my memories. So he recommended I write stuff down. Whatever I was feeling. And he said even he wouldn’t read it, he promised. We were in this kind of warehouse place at the time, and there was nowhere to sleep. Not a lot of privacy except my pieces of paper. They’re gone now. But I think they kept me focused on something, at the time.”

He holds Dapper’s pencil in his hand, taking a loose sheet of paper. But his eyes get fixed on the stretched out sketchbook on the floor once again. He looks away from the image of himself with a grimace.

That night - that look on his face - that wasn’t what he remembers. Not exactly.

Want to know a secret? he writes.

He has scrawling, beautiful, messy handwriting.

I was pissed at you that night. You left me and Dok to freeze. I don’t even think I started that fire because I was trying to keep Dok warm.

He pauses, squeezing his eyes shut. Bites on his lip. Puts his pencil back down.

I wanted to make you angry. I wanted there to be a confrontation. I was angry at you. But I didn’t know how to tell you because you didn’t care about me back then and that was what burned, more than this goddamn scar on my hand. I wanted to hurt you for hurting me. But all you did was hurt me worse. You act like you want things to be good between us now but we’ve never even talked about

He stops and sighs and scowls before crumpling the paper up, scratching at his scalp.

“Forget it,” he mumbles. “Not that. Just…”

Noodle mewls at the door, beginning to get bored with his jerky. Trick smiles softly and chuckles, turning away.

When you were a kitten your body was like a slinky and I could feel every one of your bones. Hot little spine rubbing against my wide palms. Big fuzzy leaf ears. When you were a kitten you made a weight beneath my throat and when I breathed I would feel the tiny thump of your heart. You are the memory of someone I lost.

And Trick is stopped again, closing his eyes again, turning away again.

“Maybe I’ll just go get a hot bath. Relax a while. I’m okay. Poor kitty cat. Don’t be lonely, okay, baby boy? I’ll be back in a while.”

Anonymous asked: Keep your head high and your standards higher, Trick.

“My standards for this rich guy’s bath are high as fuck right now,” he says, slinging a towel over his shoulder. “Motherfucker got bath bombs and everything. This better be some Spirited Away experience or I’m out. Minus the evil lady, though. Just the big steamy bath and the nostalgia, please. Hey, keep an eye on my kitty for me, yeah? You’re still in the cameras all over the house? I’ll be out in a little while. Maybe a long while. Thanks, guys. Uh. For real.”

Anonymous asked: I'm sure noodle is going to be okay, Trick. If you're worried about him just stay near the door and he should be fine óvò You might want to try to slip him something to eat tho, I have no idea when was the last time anyone could've fed that kitty

Trick slips him one more piece of jerky and lets him chew on his finger for a moment before he slips into the bathroom. Noodle has his snack happily outside the door, and then, deprived of Trick’s presence, he goes exploring.

Trick has made toys for him out of anything he could find. He plays with string and a ball that makes a jangling sound. He zips around the house for a while. He searches for Trick and Dok, or anybody to give him some attention.

Usually they’re down in the basement. Usually they all stay down in the basement, Noodle himself shut in most of the day to avoid Anti, though he’s perfectly content to stay down there with everything he needs. But today, he gets to explore. The door was opened while Dark’s soldiers searched the house and he’s free to roam. It’s a little exciting.

He’s okay. For now, he’s okay. Trick has fed him and there’s a little water still in his bowl by the door. He’s okay.

But Trick was too hot in his bed for a reason. And he’s right - the windows do open.

Noodle gets tired of the basement. Noodle gets tired of his toys. Noodle wants to see Trick and the others.

He explores. The fresh breeze and the smell of the trees - the movement of the grass and the warmth of the sun - the song of the birds, the scurrying of mice, the cool water of the pool - they call to him.

He has not been outside since he was too small for anything but milk. Not until today.

He slips out through the window of Red and Blue’s room, and he explores.

Anonymous asked: hey, shep? dapper's brother has a golden cat, who we just saw leave, but he's away from the cameras at the moment so we can't tell him about it yet. could you and the others keep an eye out for the cat? his name is noodle, although i don't know if he knows it or not.

Shep hears the beeping in his pocket and pulls the camera out immediately.

“Shep! Come on, throw it in!”

“Just a second!”

His eyes scan your message and brighten, a hint of gold from the sun lighting up the brown curve of his irises. He feigns disinterest for a moment, pausing to kick a soccer ball back towards someone on the lawn. You can hear a dog barking and voices chatting. The sun is overhead. It’s a beautiful day.

“Would that make you happy?” asks Shep. “If I found the cat for you?”

He looks up at the forest.

Outside of the sunlight, Darkness reigns in more ways than one. The trees are thick and tall and heavy, shrouding the earth in a loving chill. Animals scamper across the dirt and lean plants curl up from the ground and latch onto the broad backs of trees, clinging to damp red wood. And for miles - for miles - it stretches on before him.

“Okay, then,” he says. “I will.”

Anonymous asked: it would help. thank you, shep. anti doesn't like animals, so i wouldn't recommend bringing the cat back to the house they're in, but you can bring it here and we'll tell the brother about it.

“I’ll start looking right now,” he says. “It’s a big forest. But I can do it.”

Anonymous asked: sleeby jj...Soff sleeby bean.. get well soon

His eyes slide open to your familiar light.

He stares at you for a second, his eyes heavy with shadowed circles.

Then he registers the message and manages to roll his eyes for the first time in days, huffing out a bit of a sigh.

“Not a bean.”

It’s only as he signs it that he realizes he’s no longer restrained.

He sits up slowly, pressing his palm to his forehead and grimacing. He doesn’t feel well at all. His stomach swims with nausea and he can feel his blood chugging sluggishly through his veins. But it’s better than the last few days.

He glances around the room, blinking slowly. He’s alone and there’s light streaming in through the barred window.

Alright. He’s had his nap. Time to start trying to escape.

Anonymous asked: Jj, think about this first. Anti is already coming for you, and if you try to escape you'll be in miles and miles of unknown forest, with no haldol, no medication for your fever, and no way to be sure you can get home. At least maybe wait until you've gotten over the infection and until you can steal some haldol to have with you? Just trying to analyze the situation fully before action is taken.

“I am not going to sit quietly while the monster who has haunted my nightmares - well, one of them - keeps me prisoner. I only do that for Anti. Come on, don’t be boring! Help me get out, yeah?”

He struggles to his feet, but as soon as he’s found a moment of balance he loses it again, tumbling into the wall and holding himself there on shaking arms and legs. He swallows thickly and turns towards the windows, yanking on the bars with his good hand. The other one is swaddled so thickly in bandages he can barely feel it, but at least his fingers stick out to let him speak most words.

That being said, he has about four good yanks on those bars before his head is swimming. He slumps against the wall, clinging to the metal. His whole body aches.

“Maybe you have a point,” he admits sullenly, rubbing at his face.

Anonymous asked: Haha, sorry Jay, not trying to be boring! I just want to make sure you've got a second voice to help think clearly. Look around you maybe? See any spare haldol or fever medication you can swipe and save up for when you do the grand escape?

“Thank you,” says JJ, grinning slowly, though nothing quite makes it to his eyes. “Okay, let me look. I think I must have something in me now because my psychosis is a lot less intense right now.”

He glances around the room. He isn’t hallucinating and his thinking is much clearer, but his expressions are still dulled, his face is twitching, and he isn’t sure what’s true and what’s not. He needs rest and a lot less stress.

He checks the drawers, but everything’s locked up.

nikkilbook asked: JJ, remind me again why Dark frightens you so much? I’m sorry, but I can’t remember clearly. He doesn’t remember any of you either. He showed up that first time because he didn’t know why Anti was trespassing in his territory.

Dapper looks over at you.

He turns away for a second, chewing on his nail. Shrugs. Sits down on the bed.

“Not a fun time,” he signs eventually.

scunneredzombie asked: Rest up, if you can, JJ! I'm almost completely certain you'll be safe here. Darkness won't hurt you because they want you healthy enough to talk to them. You need rest and to let your haldol take effect.

“Dark can do a lot worse things than hurting anybody,” he answers. “It’s the talking to them that’s more likely to fuck me up than anything. And I never want to see them again. Tell them to leave me alone! Where’s my big brothers? Are they coming to get me yet?”

Anonymous asked: How are you feeling, JJ? Still burning up?

“I actually feel quite cold.” He hugs his arms around his sunken chest, staring around the room. His lips are chapped to blood and his face is the color of bleach. He doesn’t look well.

“This is miserable,” he admits, his signs soft. “I remember when I was created I always had energy and felt strong and healthy most of the time, even when I got hurt. I bounced back. The last few months, I’m just… every day I’m sicker. My bones break and I catch every cold and infection. Keep have psychotic episodes. Don’t sleep well.”

He realizes he’s just complaining and makes himself stop, digging his nails into his palms. Won’t help anything. He needs to get out.

He creeps to the door and takes the handle in his hand.

“Going somewhere?”

He turns, spitting, back to his bed, the hair on the back of his neck standing up like an angry cat’s as he snatches a pen off the nearest counter for self-defense.

Wilford nods patiently, following his movements as he swings his legs on the side of the little clinic bed. “Very good, very good.”

“You stay away from me.”

“Oh, my dear, forgive me, I don’t understand a word of that. Shall I get you paper?”

Dapper steps away from him, watching him with glittering eyes. After a moment, he nods.

Wilford pulls a pad of paper out from behind his back as though it had been there all along and sets it on the bed beside himself, smiling.

“What are you so frightened of, young man? Come on, then, calm down.”

Anonymous asked: Are you wearing your dress-shoes? The heel might be good for smashing the locks off the drawers! Though you'd have to be uh... as quiet as smashing can be haha.

JJ looks down at his bare feet. He scowls. Just like the day he was created.

But Wilford has boots on. “Give me those,” he demands.

Wilford doesn’t speak sign language, but he gets the gesture. “Sure,” he says, tugging a boot off and tossing it to him.

Dapper slams a desk drawer handle remorselessly. A loud clang signals the death of the handle as it flies to the ground. Dapper yanks the drawer open.

“Ippy says you’re all sorts of unhealthy,” says Wilford cheerfully, still kicking his legs, halfway bootless now. “Do you feel better today? He said you have so little Vitamin D he could probably break your bones with a pillowcase. You need some sun, dear boy!”

Dapper searches through the drawer, but there’s nothing but cotton swabs, gloves, tongue depressors and everything boring. He raises the boot and smashes another dresser handle, a little breathless.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti is trying to find you right now, I'm pretty sure. I understand not wanting to see them, they're frankly a terrifying jedi-powers 3D glasses fender-bender in you all's life. You'll be home soon, JJ. But you need rest right now, you could end up hurting yourself if you're in a bad mindset or not with the proper medication. I know being careful is no fun, but right now it seems like the best option. I know this sounds fucked, but trust Anti to find you. Like he'd give you up that easily, ha,,

“You don’t want to see Dark?” asks Wilford, finally sounding genuinely wounded. “Oh…”

“You stop,” signs JJ fiercely, whirling on him. “You’re lucky you’re out of your mind or I’d call you a creep for staying around that horrible - that horrible - thing. Whatever. Leave me alone. You’re a killer just like them.”

“I think your camera’s right. You ought to sit. You don’t look very well.”

Dapper glares, panting a little. He glances around the room again, a sense of despair shuddering its way over him. Always locked in his room. Always locked in his room. Always locked in his room. He grips at his hair, breathing through his teeth.

“Hey,” says Wilford. “It’s okay. Can you hear me at all? Do I need to be writing things down too? My handwriting is very good. Would you like some water?”

He clears his dry throat, his eyes flickering over to Wilford. Actually, he would. He’s parched.

Wilford nods and gets up. He disappears for a second and returns with a glass of water. JJ takes it from him with shaking hands, sinking down onto the bed.

Anonymous asked: Hey Wilford, you're not... planning on hurting JJ, are you? You don't seems like you have any intention of it but knowing you we can never be too wary >_>

“Excuse me!” Wilford waggles his finger indignantly, making a noise like pshaw! again and again. “I have never hurt a living soul in my life. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m a pacifist, actually. Excepting that door-to-door salesman who would NOT stop coming by…”

Dapper hisses out a breath, pressing at his forehead, feeling faint again. He scoops up Wilford’s pad of paper and sets Ippy’s pen to it. “You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?” he scrawls out in a bitter, looping cursive.

“Do you?” spits back Wilford just as quick, a little fire flashing through his eyes.

Dapper sinks in on himself, exhaling. “No,” he writes. “Not ever.”

Wilford eases again, grinning his nonchalant, slightly dazed grin.

“Why’d you come in here?” writes Dapper.

“To see you,” answers Wilford eagerly, clapping his hands together. “Finally, a new ego with a real aesthetic!”

“I’m not a new ego, Wil. Look, I don’t look like you.”

“No, you’re not like me - well, like him,” insists Wilford, undaunted. “You’re one of the boys that runs around with him sometimes. He can create things too, that’s alright. You can still stay here.”

Dapper softens a little, quirking his eyebrows. “You’ve met Jack?”

“Seen him! They made a lot of videos together for a while, do you remember? Every day!”

JJ laughs, shaking his head. “You’re thinking of Ethan.”

“No, who? Noooo. The brown-haired one. Loud? Bouncy?”

“They’re both - ” JJ cuts himself off, laughing into his hands. “Never mind.”

“I don’t have my glasses on.”

“Apparently.”

Anonymous asked: Hey JJ, did you and Wil knew each other before the whole timeline mess?

“No, not really,” JJ signs to you gently. “I’ve never really had anyone outside of Anti.”

“Are you mute?” asks Wilford politely. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

“I’ve never been able to talk,” he writes out. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t be able to stay for long.”

“Oh,” says Wilford, face falling. “Oh, I thought that was why you came.”

“You took me from my house. Do you remember?”

“No… you’re thinking of one of the others, I think?”

Dapper lets out a sigh and smiles. “Never mind. Just - ”

It’s then that Edward enters the room.

Dapper stiffens, rubbing his shoulders and staring down at the floor. Ippy looks relieved, stepping carefully into the room, as though approaching an animal caught in a fence.

“Hi,” he breathes. “Feeling any better?”

JJ looks away, uncomfortable.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap? I just wanted to let you know that it's ok to be experiencing symptoms right now. You're under so, so much stress, your body must be having hell and two pence. It's ok if you feel apathy, have a hard time with facial expression, hallucinating. You will be okay. You will get out soon, and you will have time to de-stress, you will see your brothers again soon. Know even through the fear, everything will be okay. You were made for happy endings.

“Do you have symptoms like these often?” asks Ippy.

Dapper plays with the edge of his paper, unsmiling.

“Your, uh… friends? Said you had a psychotic disorder. When was the last time you saw a clinician about that? Seems like you’ve been on Haldol a pretty long time.”

Dapper draws circles on his pad, not looking up.

Ippy sits down in one of those backless chairs that doctors roll around their offices in. “Are you aware that you have a Vitamin D deficiency? Serious enough to be impacting your bone strength?”

Dapper glances at Wilford but doesn’t answer.

“Broken rib… infected wrist… some pretty serious scarring…”

Dapper leans down to write something. Ippy waits patiently. Dapper turns the paper around and he’s written “stop talking to me” across the whole page. Ippy rolls his chair away and lets out a grumble beneath his breath, getting up to -

“Hey! Who broke my drawers!”

Wilford and JJ exchange glances.

“Probably the dog,” answers Wilford wisely, and it almost, almost makes JJ smile.

It’s okay. He’s okay. It’s okay for him to be psychotic. He’s just got to get through it, like he always does. It’s okay to struggle.

Anonymous asked: Hey now! Let the doctor take care of you, bud. You deserve some proper medical attention, you deserve some healing after everything you've been through.

“That’s not my doctor,” signs JJ bitterly, glaring Ippy down as best he can, though he mostly ends up looking like he’s squinting. “Give me back to my brother.”

“Five questions,” asks Ippy. “Yeah? Then I’ll give you some space.”

“One question.” He holds up a finger.

Ippy holds up three.

Dapper turns his head away. Tries to glare again. Nods. Fine.

“When was the last time you saw a psychiatrist?”

He’s never seen a psychiatrist. That’s why they mostly just call it a psychotic disorder. Schneep says it’s probably schizophrenia, but he’s a surgeon. Until Anti stole Dok, he would just tell Dapper that Jack fucked his head up as bad as his voice.

“I don’t have a psychiatrist,” says Dapper. “The Haldol is fine. It manages most everything.”

“Most of the positive symptoms, I bet,” says Ippy. “And even if antipsychotics are helpful, they still need to be adjusted sometimes, and you should probably be seeing a therapist for behavioral therapy.”

“What’s positive about psychosis?” asks Wilford. “Is that like the fun kind of psychosis? A little LSD, anybody?”

“Wilford,” sighs Ippy. “Positive means something added. So things like hallucinations, delusions, hyperactivity, disordered thinking - those are positive symptoms. Most antipsychotics work best for those. But there are negative symptoms too - depressed mood. Flattened expressions. Lack of enjoyment or pleasure. Feelings of hopelessness.”

Dapper stares at the floor. After a moment, he writes “question two” pointedly.

“Why do you look like Mark’s friend?”

“It’s exactly what you think it is. Don’t waste either of our time.”

“Dark says Jack doesn’t have videos with you or any of the others.”

“Is that a question?”

“No, grumbles Ippy, rubbing at his forehead. “Forget it. Who gave you all your scars?”

Dapper’s eyes flicker. He glances away. “Self-harm,” he writes.

“Liar,” answers Ippy evenly. “They go all the way to your back.”

Dapper hisses, tucking his pad up against his chest for a second. He lets out a breath of air, shaking his head.

Anonymous asked: His ribs are broken because his "big brother" nearly beat him to death then left him sitting in filth for hours until he passed out. He's deficient in vitamin D because he spends his entire life locked inside one room and that same brother almost never lets him out. He's scarred from year of torture and abuse. Let's just say he doesn't have the easiest home life.

Ippy sits back, setting his clipboard aside.

Dapper closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t feel well.

“Please just leave me alone,” he writes. “There. You got your answer. My brother did all of it. Go away.”

Ippy gets up. He takes Dapper’s bear off the bedside table and hands it carefully over to him. Dapper swallows and accepts it, pulling the familiar warmth and texture and smell to his chest. It’s grounding.

“Want to come sit in the sun for a while?” asks Ippy.

Dapper looks up at him, eyes wide. Ippy waits.

Dapper sighs and shakes his head, curling up against the wall. Even if he wanted to accept anybody’s niceness right now, he’s too tired.

“Okay,” says Ippy. “You don’t have to. But you should know - now that you’re awake and talking - ”

“No,” Dapper is already writing, the pen shaking in his grip.

“They just want to talk. That’s all. They won’t - ”

“Tell Dark to stay away from me,” writes Dapper frantically, tears budding in his eyes. He underlines it. Again and again.

Tell

Dark

To

Stay

Away

Ippy gets to his feet wearily. He unlocks one of his drawers and sets a Haldol and a Vitamin D tablet out on the dresser beside Dapper.

“Get a little sleep,” he says. “You’ll feel better.”

“I want Dok,” writes Dapper. “Please.”

Ippy is already shutting the door behind him.

nikkilbook asked: Edward, do you have any contacts in the city that work with homeless shelters or other kinds of emergency housing? I think that’s where three of his brothers are.

Edward’s eyebrows raise. “Oh? Sure, there’s some shelters. I usually refer them to LAAG. Sets you up in a hotel for a month or two if you’re out of somewhere to stay. Mostly for moms with kids, though. There’s some men’s and women’s shelters in town. Lot of homeless people out here, unfortunately. Hey, Gigi.”

“What?”

“What’s the closest homeless shelter?”

“Are they finally kicking you out of that pigsty you call an apartment? The closest homeless shelter is Missionaries of Charity Relief Services, 23.6 miles away. There is an adjoining soup kitchen.”

“There you go.”

nikkilbook asked: Could you send someone (non/less threatening, if possible?) to ask after them, see if they’d be willing to come and help you with JJ? Though one of them, Marvin, is hurt really bad as well because of some messed up dark magic crap that Anti thought was a good idea. Schneep, the doctor that JJ keeps referring to, is doing his best, but he’s technically a surgeon with holes in his memory.

“Excuse me,” Google cuts you both off, stepping forward. “You have to run decisions like that past Dark.”

“Then ask Dark,” answers Ippy mildly. “I’m sure they’d love to worm their way into somebody else’s heart. They wanted that other kid that was there, right? Bet they’d be happy with you if you brought the other three back to them.”

“You think you’re very clever.”

“But I got you thinking about it, didn’t I?”

Google glares at him.

Then his composure breaks, just the smallest bit, and you see a smile on the edges of his mouth. Ippy laughs and trails past him towards the kitchen. “Come on, you goddamn sycophant. It’s curry night. You can help me make it.”

“I’m not your maid,” says Gigi stubbornly.

But he follows right after him into the kitchen.

Anonymous asked: Does seeing outsiders reaction help you realize it JJ? How horrible Anti really is to you? You're dying, Dapper. You might be dead if you hadn't gotten medical treatment. You have all the scars because of his actions. All of your pain was caused by him. You have a psychotic disorder and he's never /once/ taken you to a psychiatrist. If he was your brother, if he loved you beyond being his pet, he would have at least taken you to therapy. Can you see the damage he's done, Dap?

“Save the realization tactics for my brothers, my friend,” JJ signs quietly. “I’ve always known exactly what Anti is. I used to stay because I was scared of what he’d do to me if I tried to get away. Now I just know there’s no escaping. Not for me.”

And that is when the light from the sun flickers and dies.

Dapper closes his eyes. He knows. Right away, without pausing.

“Dark,” you see his mouth move.

“Feeling… hopeless?” asks a voice that echoes. “I can help with that.”

“No,” says Dapper. “No, you can’t.”

And he gets to his shaking feet.

Anonymous asked: They made a deal JJ. This is the last time. If you don't allow yourself to escape, allow yourself freedom and family, true family, love... Then I fear you'll be stuck with him forever. Let yourself escape. Let Jameson Jackson live. Let your soul breathe again.

JJ holds the camera close to his chest, sinking down beside his bed as his legs give out on him. It makes Dark tower over him. He closes his eyes.

Family, true family - what he wouldn’t give for them to be here right now. And it’s odd to him because most often, when he wishes for family, he wishes Anti were here to protect him.

Today, he doesn’t wish for Anti at all. Even if Anti would protect him from Dark, it doesn’t matter. He wants… fuck, he just wants Red and Blue and Dok and even Trick, because every one of them, he has begun to realize, would take care of him if they ever had the chance to. Blue would be shouting at Dark to back off, Red would already be on the attack, Dok would be making him feel better, and Trick, he thinks, would just be wrapped around him, holding him, just like he did when Gigi and Shep came to take him away.

Maybe he wasn’t stuck up in the attic or in the backroom or in Anti’s bed because everyone else hated him or didn’t want him around. Maybe it was always just Anti’s barriers.

“How interesting the pair of you are,” Dark says, looking down at JJ with your viewpoint in his hands. “To know him intimately… to speak with him. Even when I talk to you, it’s always me on the one side of the camera, and you never able to answer… Mark sees to that. How interesting, though, to be the ones to tell him he’s loved.”

Dapper takes the writing pad in his trembling hands. “What do you want?” he writes.

Dark leans down, too close to him. “I told you. Let’s talk. I want to know everything about that monster you live with - and just how I can get rid of him.”

Dapper creeps along the wall away from Dark, shaking his head minutely. He and Anti have their struggles, but he doesn’t sell his brother out, and especially not to Dark.

“Come on, little one. What are you so scared of? My soldiers have all seen the markings all up and down you. Wouldn’t you rather let me extract a little vengeance for you?”

“Not little,” writes Dapper. “What do you want with Anti? Why kill him?”

Dark cocks their head coolly, eyes flashing red and blue.

“If you don’t remember him, there’s no reason to be angry.”

Dark doesn’t answer. Dark never answers if they don’t have to. They don’t give up information, period.

“I hope you know I hate your guts,” says JJ.

And then Dark’s hand is on his throat.

JJ wheezes in alarm, grabbing Dark’s arm as the room seems to flood with a darkness so thick it seems to shove at his bones like a fist or a car collision. He kicks his legs desperately and, for a moment, manages a shrill whistle of alarm - and then Dark makes him still.

The calm is like an infusion of something, settling into his lungs and chest and softening his violent terror into a whimpering fear. Dark drags him back to his bed and throws him onto the mattress. And Dapper, shaking and petrified with a weepy, muted alarm, curls his body into a roly-poly and hugs his bear to his chest, staring up at Dark with huge, watering eyes, because the times when he acts childish and too cute to hurt have never been anything more than a fear response.

“There you go,” says Dark, sitting down in the chair beside the bed and leaning back, their eyes closing for a moment from the strain it puts on their spine. Anti’s attack has left them physically shaken and weak, the pain haunting them through waking and dreams. For that, they will have revenge - and for the way that the thought of Anti has haunted them for more than a week now. “Be good now and tell me how you know me.”

“My brother brought me to you some years back to reset me even better than he can alone,” writes Dapper shakily. “He manipulates thoughts and he can possess people. You manipulate souls and emotions. I woke up a different person. Since then I feel like I have a different personality every day. You and Anti took who I was from me.”

Dark shakes their head faintly, squinting for a moment. They glance at Dapper, at his eyes, at his chest. They don’t say anything.

“Please don’t hurt me anymore,” writes Dapper.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” says Dark gently, and they try to make it feel, in Dapper’s heart, that this is true, but all he does is close his eyes and hide.

Anonymous asked: hey, jamie, dapper, my dear. i know you've been hurt by dark before, and i'm not saying you have to forgive them, or trust them, or anything. but can you try to trust us, when we tell you that you are safe? i wouldn't say that lightly, dap. but right now, you are safe. deep breaths. we're here to help you.

“There, that’s right,” agrees Dark quietly. “Don’t be scared.”

Dapper shudders under another wave of their power. Affection and faith well up in his chest, and this feeling, at least, has an anchor of truth in his head, a foundation it can stand on. Yes, he remembers the days when you have kept him company, the days when you have warned him of danger or convinced Anti to leave him alone. He remembers Trick and Dok taking him for fish and chips, presents you picked out for him, and the beeping of the camera on so many of the nights in the past seven months where he would have been completely alone without you.

He sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“If I met you and your brother,” says Dark. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You are a creature manipulated by the stories your creator tells,” writes Dapper slowly.

“Mark did this?”

“No. Another storyteller. My creator gave me his power of manipulating stories. Last year I changed things without meaning to. There are inconsistencies now - people who remember things that never happened in this timeline, and people who have forgotten things that happened to them in another life. And then there are things like you, somewhere in the middle - torn between memory and loss.”

Dark’s eyes narrow, smoke curling off their shoulders.

“I know you don’t remember Anti,” writes Dapper. “But at the same time, you do.”

“Enough,” says Dark. “Quiet. Let me think.”

Deep black eyes pierce into JJ like a scalpel. He stares up at the light, trying to breathe.

“The truth is you know nothing of what’s happening around you,” Dark murmurs.“You’re delusional and ill. You remember things that haven’t happened because you have a disorder.”

“No,” signs JJ, shaking his head. “No.”

He does have delusions sometimes, very intense ones. But he won’t let Dark tell him that he doesn’t know his own power - the piece of himself that Jack gave him.

“Look at you.” Dark shakes their head, eyes glittering, and smoke curls around them like creeping cats wandering through the air. “The moment you’re away from him, you crash, is that it?”

Dapper closes his eyes, turned up to the lights.

Dark hums and gets to their feet, drawing out wine and glasses as though from the shadows themselves. They pour two cups of rich, black wine and press a cool cup into his hands. Dapper’s fingers wrap around the glass slowly, his eyes blank.

“Why did you become psychotic the moment you were away from him?”

His gaze flickers up to Dark’s. He doesn’t answer.

“Of course,” mutters Dark, backing away and sitting down in their chair. “You live with a mind manipulator. I bet he makes the voices quiet, doesn’t he?”

Dapper’s mouth parts, a gleam of something hard appearing for moment in his eyes before shifting away again, leaving him tired and only vaguely annoyed.

“Admit it,” says Dark. “You rely on him. Don’t you? You wouldn’t last on your own, not without him. The medication manages some of it and he manages the rest. When he’s away, you can barely survive. You need him – desperately.”

You can hear Dapper breathing now. His eyes are fixed on the light above. He holds his wine too tightly in his fingers.

“And he tells you so,” adds Dark slowly, staring at Dapper’s face. They tilt back their wine and they drink. “Doesn’t he? Constantly, I would guess. You and him both know that you need him – and he loves it.”

Dapper doesn’t have anything to say to them. He wants to be far away. He hates them.

“It must be difficult to be both – ”

“Don’t even fucking start with me, jackass, as if you know anything about what it’s like to be mute and psychotic and abused by the person I love most in the world, as if you’re not the one who fucking triggered my schizophrenia, as if you know anything about my life or what I’ve done to – ”

“Calm down,” says Dark gently, and Dapper feels a rush of unnatural calm flood over him. For a second of raw terror, he is completely aware that he’s being forced to feel something he doesn’t really feel, and then, the next moment, he is slumped back in his chair, letting out a low sigh of relief.

“I can’t understand sign language, so you’ll have to write for me,” says Dark. “We can have a calm conversation if you stay level-headed instead of getting so out of control. I’ll forgive you because of your fever.”

Dapper reaches dazedly for the writing pad, trying to keep his thoughts straight. This is happening again. He’s losing himself again.

“You talk about my brother controlling me and then shove your way into my chest yourself,” he manages, his handwriting scrawling and small. “Just tell me what you want from me or let me go home.”

Dark drinks from their glass again, never breaking eye contact.“What do you think I want?”

“I think,” Dapper scrawls. “That you don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on.”

It is Dark’s turn for their eyes to gain a hardness. Something glitters in black irises.

“And you hate that, don’t you, Darkness? More than anything. More than anything.”

Dark does not answer.

“You want to know how to kill Anti because you remember him,” writes Dapper. “The fragments of the memory of him haunts you because you hate not knowing and you hate being confused, and the thought that I somehow changed your story is second in bitterness only to the knowledge that Mark has already told it for you. Of course you don’t want to admit you don’t remember. It means someone else changed you without your permission. Your greatest fear.”

“Watch your words,” warns Dark.

“Anti hated you at first. We would agree that you were a creep, a control freak, an asshole. But you were insistent. How pretty he was, you would say, and how you had finally found someone who matched you in ferocity. After a while, it started to flatter him. He decided he was some sort of exception to you. You would be terrible to everyone else but good to him. He loved that. The thought of being special to someone. His abandonment issues made him look past everything horrible about you.”

“You’re making this up.”

“You taught him to dance,” writes Dapper, his words coming faster and faster beneath his scrawling hands. “Do you remember? Your hands on his waist as he finally trusted you enough to put his head on your shoulder. You would bring him flowers, roses he pretended he didn’t want and then put in a vase by his bed, purring to me about how wrapped around his finger you were. You would go hunting together and let him have the kill because you loved to see him lose his mind with the power and the fun of it all. His sadism was wild any time he was with you. He would come home and hurt me on accident - mostly - because he was so violent and worked up he couldn’t control his energy and his excitement. Do you remember?”

Dark’s eyes are raised to JJ’s now, staring at him, their mouth faintly parted.

“Have you been dreaming, Dark?” asks Dapper. “Killing him won’t make it stop. Speak with him. I don’t think the two of you know what love is, but you loved the time you spent together.”

“You’re sentimental as well as delusional,” answers Dark, tilting back their wine.

“I would listen to me if I were you,” writes Dapper. “Because at this point, Dark, there are outcomes - you cool his fury, or he will kill you.”

Red and blue in Dark’s eyes. Bone through their rotting fingers.

“My brother has taken on power he should never have stolen,” says Dapper. “You can’t beat him with Blue’s power combined with his own. Calm Anti down, Dark - or he will burn down everything you love.”

Dark blinks, revealing, if only for a moment, an unsettled look on their face.

Outside the window, the others are laughing and talking. Dark catches a glance of Wilford’s bubblegum hair and the movement of the enormous dog you spotted earlier. Host’s voice murmurs down to them through the ceiling and someone is cooking in the kitchen, making the house fragrant with garlic and spices.

“Please leave me alone now,” says Dapper.

“One last thing. Is it true that you can time travel?”

“Yes,” Dapper answers. “I know you can feel the power in my chest.”

“I could take it,” says Dark. “If I wanted to. Your power is a part of your soul and that, my darling, is my specialty.”

Dapper flips a page on his pad and writes across the full page:

“It would burn you alive.”

A flicker of a small on Dark’s coy mouth.

“Yes,” they say. “I suppose it would. I’m not as stupid as your brother.”

“Whatever you say,” writes Dapper dryly.

Dark gets to their feet, draining the last of their wine.

“Can I go?” writes Dapper desperately.

“Hm? Oh, no. We’re not finished, doll. Hey.”

Dark reaches out to cluck his chin, but Dapper jerks back, terrified. Dark laughs and takes their hand back, leaving Dapper with a sudden and painfully intense feeling of exhaustion. He crumples against the bed, his eyes flickering shut.

“Get some sleep,” murmurs Dark, turning their back and beginning to disappear back into the shadows. “Hostages are no good to me dead.”

Dapper fades into darkness.

.

Blue wakes up to a hand on his shoulder. “Mh? What is it?”

He hears his twin chuckle softly above him. “You make cat noises when you’re waking up.”

“Mmmhhhh,” protests Blue sleepily, cuddling down deeper into his blankets.

“You can go back to sleep,” Red whispers. “I just wanted you to know I’m heading back to the house for a couple days. Stay here with Dok and I’ll - ”

Blue is awake. He almost flinches out of the sheets, sitting up fast and grabbing Red’s sleeve. “Wait, no. I’m coming with.”

“No, Blue, you need to stay here and rest.”

“I’m feeling much better,” replies Blue, his tone brooking no argument. “And I am NOT going to be miles and miles away while you go back to an Anti who’s no doubt furious. I need to see the others too. I have to make sure they’re okay. That’s my job.”

“I’m coming too,” answers a quiet voice from the doorway - Dok slipping into the room with three cups of hospital coffee.

“Guys, no,” protests Red. “Please. I’d rather you be here. Dok, Anti threatened to kill you.”

Dok shrugs, placing coffee down on the bedside table. He plucks at his necklaces. “We might need these,” he says, picking at each raven talisman in turn. “And I… I need to see Trick.”

“We’re both going, Red,” Blue insists, touching his arm and squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’re here.”

Red smiles weakly at the both of them. “Just… promise me you won’t try anything stupid, okay?”

“Promise,” says Blue.

“I never do,” answers Dok dryly.

The twins laugh quietly at his answer. It does not, however, hide the fear that trembles in Dok’s fingertips and rattles the insides of his chest.

He can do this. He can. He has to.

immabethehero asked: Good luck dudes!

“Thanks,” says Ro, looking up at the house. “Yeah, thanks, we appreciate it.”

Blue and Dok are behind him. He can hear them whispering to each other, but he doesn’t want to interfere. Blue is wrapped around Dok like a vice, rubbing his back as he tries to reassure him, and Dok clings to his necklaces and his sibling and hides.

“Is, um.” Ro stares at the windows and door. “Is Anti really angry? Is he in there right now? I don’t really know what to expect…”

Anonymous asked: uh, trick? i believe noodle has decided to go exploring. outside. i'm going to tell the others, so they can look for noodle too, but i thought you should know.

“Noodle?”

You find Trick kneeling by the door, scratching at the carpet and trying to catch his cat’s attention. Yesterday, he waited patiently for Noodle to come back. Today, four days after Dapper was taken, Trick has only seen Noodle twice, and the light in his eyes has become desperate and frantic.

“Baby!” he hollers, sticking the last piece of jerky under the door. “Come here, sweetie! Daddy’s upstairs. Where are you? No, no, no, he can’t have gone outside. Noodle, come here! He’s never been outside in his life. He’s always been with me. Noodle!”

He wipes at hot tears on his face, back shaking from how long he’s been crouched there. Anti has let him out of the room a couple times, but he’s been with him the whole time, so all he’s done is make himself dinner a couple times or watch a movie with Anti.

He wants things to go back to normal.

“Noodle! Please come here! You’re scaring me!”

Anonymous asked: Dok, what if you feigned that you were "taking off" your necklaces, but quickly clasped the animal one around Anti, then got him weak as you could and used the light? Or perhaps told him the only way to stop their power was for him to wear them, then put the animal one around his neck? Do you think a plan like that would work?

“Yeah, if I can manage that I would like to do this,” says Dok frailly, gripping Blue’s hand so hard it’s beginning to bruise. “Might not be able to trick him, but could maybe act fast and hurt him.”

“Remind me what all of these do,” murmurs Blue, touching his brother’s collarbone.

“This one is light, this one is transformation, and this one keeps Anti out of my head,” Dok whispers. “They said I should give the light one to a warrior.”

Blue glances at Red, pacing his way towards the house. He wants to be the first one inside, to bear the brunt of Anti’s fury. Blue pulls Dok after him, trying to think.

Anonymous asked: Trick has been alone for such a long time, and Anti has been locking him all alone in one room most of the days, he really needs you Dok, needs you to help him fight. As for Anti, he's been in and out of the place, we're not sure what he's doing.

“Anti locked Trick in his room?” asks Red.

“Let’s go,” says Dok, pulling away from Blue and hurrying towards the house.

“Dok! You don’t know if Anti’s in there!”

“He’s already seen us on the cameras from this close,” answers Dok, yanking open the door to the house and moving inside. “If he wants to come after us, he will. There’s nothing we can do about that. Right now, I just want to see Trick. Where is he?”

He runs down into the basement where they’ve been staying, but Trick isn’t there - and neither is Noodle. Dok returns to the ground floor, where Blue and Red are looking through their own room. Blue shuts the window that’s been open for days, making the room hot and airy.

“Where’s kitty?” asks Blue.

“I’m sure he’s just with Trick,” answers Dok. “Right?”

Anonymous asked: Trick is locked up in Anti's bedroom, and Noodle is missing, he escaped outside. Trick's been alone with no one but Anti for this whole time.

Blue and Red exchange wide-eyed looks, Red already pacing towards the door to look around for the cat. Dok races upstairs, feeling more awake than he has in weeks.

“Trick!” he knocks rapidly on the door and shuffling sounds greet him from the other side.

“Anti?”

“Trick, it’s me,” Dok calls.

“Dok!”

The way he calls his name is almost a sob. Dok scrambles with the lock on the door, turning the stiff lock to the right. Trick shoves the door open and meets his eyes.

“Are you okay?” croaks Dok.

“Fine,” whispers Trick, though his hair is limp and dry and his eyes hollowed out. “Are you?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Listen, Trick, I just - ”

Trick crashes into him and hugs him to his chest. They fall back against the wall, pinned together, skulls pressed together and arms wrapped around each other’s ribs.

“You don’t have to explain,” says Trick. “I should have protected you better, so you didn’t have to run away. I’ll be better for you, Dok. I’ll take better care of you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should have been someone you could trust.”

“Trick…”

They wrap tighter around each other, rocking each other’s bodies against the wall, safe in each other’s grips.

Anonymous asked: He's here.

Blue is hugging Trick and Dok to himself, babbling at them about how he loves them, about how he missed him, about how happy he is to see him. Trick is relieved to feel less alone for the first time in days. He tells Blue he looks better and that he loves him too.

It’s Red who sees Anti.

He’s leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at him with cold blue eyes.

Red swallows. Anti doesn’t say anything.

He signs “come here.”

And then he walks away.

Red feels a shudder down his whole body. He glances back at his brothers, celebrating the mini-reunion together, talking about everything that’s happened.

He doesn’t see Dapper. Anti must have him with him.

Red needs to see him.

He swallows once again, clearing his throat this time. He won’t be afraid. He can’t let himself get lost in Anti’s lies again. He sees what he is more clearly than he has in years and now - now he has to protect his brothers from the monsters in the middle of them.

He moves down the stairs after Anti.

Anonymous asked: Uh guys, look out, the big-bad wolf is here

“Big bad wolf…”

Anti turns back to Ro for a moment in the middle of the hall, his eyes burning red.

“That’s me, then, right, Jackie?”

Ro’s blood seems to frost over in his veins. He stops short in the hallway, mouth parted.

Anti narrows his eyes and turns away, leading Ro further down the hall. Red can barely bring himself to follow, but his nerves are tempered by his confusion.

Anti has never called him Jackie before.

“Where’s Dap?” he asks quietly, stepping after Anti.

Anti doesn’t answer. He steps into the office room where you once found Dapper drinking and waits.

Red steps in after him, chewing on his lip.

Anti closes the door behind him and sits down at the desk, propping his feet on the table. He glares at Ro, flipping a knife in his hands.

“You got a deathwish or something,” says Anti.

“No,” Ro manages. “No.”

“Tell me why you went,” Anti snaps.

“You were threatening Dok. Blue was sick. I got scared.”

Anti stares at him, eyes burning with flame.

Anonymous asked: Anti Blue was dying and you were threatening Dok. Don't punish Red for being their protector, that's literally what you make him be. Thanks to his action, neither of them are dead. You have him to thank for the time away you got to think about your temper.

Anti takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second. “Was that all it was?”

“Yes,” says Ro quietly. “I just didn’t want them to get hurt. Anti, you can’t threaten to murder Dok and expect me to - ”

“I can do what I want,” snaps Anti. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“What’s your fucking name?”

Ro licks his mouth anxiously, glancing around for a second. He wishes Blue were here.

“It’s Red, Anti.”

Anti sighs, shaking his head at him. His posture relaxes slightly, letting his head thump back against the office chair.

Anonymous asked: Dapper isn't with him because Dark's soldiers stole him away. It seems like Anti can't find him.

“What?” asks Ro, incredulous. “Wait, you mean you actually let that monster get their hands on him?”

“You weren’t here!” shouts Anti, glitching to his feet and making Red stumble back. “You were the one I chose to protect them, Red, but you ran away without him or Trick like they meant nothing to you!”

“I thought you would keep them safe!” cries Red.

“I would have been able to if you had been here and I had known about Dark!” Anti snarls back, slamming his hand into the office table, a slight tremor in his palms. “But you and them both turned your backs on me! I can’t trust anyone but myself!”

“You were going to hurt Dok!”

Anti’s palm connects with Red’s face, sending him staggering back. He feels blood rush to the handprint on his cheek and he grips at his face weakly, looking up at Anti with watery eyes.

“You would have been useless if you were here anyway,” growls Anti. “You’re terrified of Dark. Fucking coward boy. And to think, Jack called you a hero.”

Hurt and fury light up in Ro’s chest. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, straightening his back again and clutching his hands into fists.

“I found Dark today,” says Anti coldly, turning away. “We can get Dapper back. If you help me, maybe I won’t fucking slaughter you for running away like the little bitch you are.”

“I’m not a little bitch,” says Red. “You… you’ve never liked me.”

“Correct,” answers Anti.

Anonymous asked: Jackie's throwing caution to the wind, you're willing to throw everyone's lives to the wind. Even moreso now that this is the last run-through, right?

“If you turn on me like that again,” says Anti. “I’ll kill you like I promised you I would.”

“You expect my loyalty,” says Ro. “But you don’t even like me. You threaten us and hurt us. How do you expect me to stay?”

“You’ll stay because if you don’t I’ll end all five of you,” snarls Anti, Jack’s teeth in his mouth giving way to those of a dog. “What, you think you did a good job, running away from me? Think you saved them from anything? I know you were staying in Ashley Valley Hospital Room 412.”

Ro’s blood is cold.

“I know the fake names you used, I know the food pantry where Dok was getting you food everyday, I know what Blue’s doctors said, I know, I know, I know. You can’t get away from me, Red. You never will. All the more because you’re a spineless, needy moron who can’t think of anything but a man who doesn’t love him anymore and whatever bullshit your mind fixates on on any given day. You’re broken, Red. Same way Jack made Chase and JJ broken. Even when you were Jackie, you were still pathetic.”

“Wonder why Marvin and I were able to beat you to hell, then,” says Ro.

It’s a mistake as soon as he’s said it. It’s a mistake. It was a bad choice. He shouldn’t have said it.

But he doesn’t regret it.

Anti takes a step back towards him, his eyes narrowed like a cat’s.

Jackie takes a step towards him too, fists clenched.

“When I said that you made me forget important things in the past,” he says. “I meant that you made me forget people I loved and the places I come from. But there are other things you made me forget too, Anti. You’re not as untouchable as you’ve always told me you were. And you know what else?”

Anti’s eyes are pupil-less, iris-less, white.

“I think you’re still afraid of me,” he says. “I think that every time you flinch back from a bird at the window, you are flinching away from the memory of just how bad I hurt you the first time you stole my baby brother.”

Anonymous asked: Stand strong, Jackieboy man. You've got a war to fight.

Stand strong. He straightens his back. The others need him.

“Come on, then,” he snaps, taking another step forward. Anti takes a step back. “I can see it in you. That you want to hurt me. It’s a look I’ve gotten used to. That you want to see me begging so you feel less scared.”

“You shut your mouth, Jackie,” says Anti.

“No,” spits Ro, clenching his fists. “No, I won’t. I’m tired of you silencing me. I’m not stupid and I’m not a coward.”

Anti strikes him, harder than the first time. Red backs off, grabbing his face with a gasp. Tears water in his eyes. He straightens up again, seething.

“You’re the fucking coward, Anti,” he croaks out, something snapping in his chest. His little brother really has always hated him, no matter how hard he tried to love him. “I won’t let you tell me differently anymore.”

Anonymous asked: Hey younger brothers, you miiight want to go to the office with Red and Anti, something tells me it's about to go downhill from here, and you'd be stronger together, protecting each other.

Blue blinks and looks around, realizing only now that his twin is gone.

“Oh, shit,” he breathes.

He turns and races down the stairs, tearing towards the office.

Anonymous asked: You are not pathetic, Jackie. You are a hero, through-and-through. You've spent your every waking moment protecting them from abuse in any way you were able. "Broken" is just Anti being an ableist, abusive asshat. You are stronger than him. You always have been, no matter what he tries to convince you of. Break free of him, Jackieboy Man.

“Yeah, you know what, they’re right,” Jackie continues, lifting his chin up and glaring at Anti as bruises form on his face. “You know what I think, Anti? I think you’re so desperate to believe that our creator - that Jack - ”

“Don’t say that name!” screams Anti, slapping him again.

Red laughs. “I think you’re so desperate to believe that Jack was in the wrong that you tell yourself he did something wrong to us just because of things like me being autistic. And that’s pretty fucked up, Anti. There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with Dap and Trick. Honestly? I think Jack was probably an okay guy, and you’re the one who’s always been the villain.”

“Stop it!” screams Anti, driving his fist into Red’s chest. Red steps back, but doesn’t falter. “Stop it, stop it!”

“You like to act like you’re in control and you can’t even control your temper and your fucking daddy issues!”

“Red!” shouts Anti, his eyes flashing. “Stop it! You’re just like Jack, you’re just like Dark, everybody turns on me eventually! You were always just Jack’s little soldier, his failsafe! You think I made you a guard dog? Jack used you for years to get what he wanted.”

“Jack was trying to protect us from you!”

“You don’t even remember!” Anti grabs Red by the throat and slams him into the wall, crashing his head into wood. “Who have you been talking to? You - ”

“Hey, stop, stop!” cries Blue, appearing to grab Anti’s hands, trying to tear him off his twin. Anti kicks his cane away from him and sends him crashing to the ground.

“I ought to put both of you right back in the hospital!”

“Anti, don’t hurt him!” shrieks Blue. “Dapper’s not here! You can’t fix this if it all goes wrong!”

Anti’s grip tightens for a moment on Red’s throat. Ro chokes, gripping at his fingers.

Anti drops him to the ground.

“You’re right,” he spits, turning to grab Blue by the hair, dragging him back up to a sitting position. “So I’ll deal with you two once I have my boy back.”

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXVII: Cold Comfort For Change

Crowds of people seated, sucking in each other’s oxygen with their open, smiling faces. Plates full of lobster and mashed potatoes and what was that? Spinach? It was something green. Could’ve been seaweed or...whatever other plant was green. I didn’t think about the color green often. Maybe like once or twice, and only when I saw something green. That was all.

Through the air was a nauseating aroma of boiled vegetables and a vague hint of starch. Carbohydrates? I wasn’t sure. Whatever potatoes smelled like when they were heated. If not for the aroma, loathe as I was to breathe it in, I wouldn’t have been able to tell there was any sense of heat at all. At least the food was warm. Maybe the people, too. It did look like a sunny day, and by sunny, I meant that the sun was out.

Decorations of little stone angel statues were lined on shelves and windowsills. Glasses, a counter with a dedicated bartender (some guy in a fancy three-piece suit with a monopoly man mustache). Stairs which led...where? Beats me. Upstairs, probably. If not for the food stench which drowned out all other smells, I might not have picked up on the sleek scent of refined mahogany which made up the hardwood floors, counters, stairs...ah, hell, everything.

What was I doing? Waiting for my seat. I had a reservation and I figured maybe if I arrived a little early, I could get to my seat faster. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

I tapped my foot. It didn’t make anything go faster and the crowds, the chatter, everything worked in tandem to see how far I could stand being in such a place. Rich folks and people on dates who probably pretended to be rich in order to impress the other person. All I wanted was a good meal, something I didn’t have to make, and look at the mess I got myself into: at any point, any one of them could look over to me and they would raise an eyebrow, tilt their head, point, stare in confusion.

It would have made sense, too. I mean, who on a near-summer day would wear a thick, red jacket and have their arms folded as they shivered in place and wished they could find a place of warmth at last, some kind of warmth that would never come? Plenty of people, maybe, I mean, maybe the air conditioner was really working on overdrive. It’s not like I checked the temperature outside before I stepped foot in such a posh hellhole.

All these people smiling and laughing and making face noises. It’s just like how people on the Titanic must’ve been like. Am I the iceberg?

“Dee Flecked?” Called the server. Or receptionist. I didn’t know these restaurant job titles. It wasn’t my job to know. The...whatever was another “some fancy guy”, just like the bartenders. His features were...a face and clothes. That was all I was going to warrant.

Yes. ‘Dee Flecked’. I have to be careful. I’m veering awful close to my original name. At least I don’ t know anyone with a ‘D’ in their name. Nope. None at all.

“Me…” I raised my hand with a feeble motion.

“Right this way, madame,” he motioned.

Finally someone with manners.

He ushered me to my seat, which was a solitary table in the middle of the dining hall. Which meant I was ambushed by all these people who probably didn’t feel so much as a hint of a draft. I guess I should’ve been grateful as at least in the summer time, it was manageable.

“Uh...can I...have a different seat?” I looked up and asked the guy in expensive clothing who was probably paid too little to be way too polite (which meant he probably couldn’t even have afforded his clothing. Was that a plothole, but in real life?).

“I’m sorry, madame, but there are no other seats available,” he broke the news in such a way that it was like he was telling me my great grandmother who I never knew and so had no attachment to had just passed away.

“Oh...that’s...yeah, that tends to happen in a place like this...ha…” I tried not to express my disappointment too hard and I hoped my weak and shaky voice didn’t give me away. To aid in my endeavor, I waved about a hundred dollar bill.

“Here’s a per-emptive tip,” I looked down at the table and muttered.

“Thank you,” he took it, “I’ll get you the finest water we have.”

I let out a foggy sigh of relief. I had done it.

Now, as for what I was doing there, or what I was doing anywhere at all, I couldn’t really say. I’ll be honest – I wasn’t expecting to still be around after all that time. Many months went by (but less than a year) since I parted ways from that glacial diner. For the first several whiles of my time alone, I didn’t really had any particular goal or objective. I slept in alleyways and rooftops alike, anywhere where I thought I wouldn’t be bothered and wouldn’t have to pay rent. Food was difficult to come by, but shoplifting from grocery stores was easy. Also there were food banks, but I didn’t want to rob a food bank.

To think I was living at all, though. It wasn’t really in the plans, but as I said, I had no plans. Life just had a way of going on. Didn’t know how to feel about that one, but it was a little out of my control, so I let it go (conceal, don’t feel) for the most part. Make no mistake, it was unbearable, and at times I did hit something of a rock bottom. I remember being in Italy, concealed by any shadows I could occupy, and would beg others for just a sip of wine. Eventually, though, I had enough, so being individualistic in nature, I did something about my situation and worked hard to earn a fair bit of money.

...In other words, I robbed a rich person’s house in the dead of night while they were on vacation and took off with over a million dollars.

“Ray would’ve been so proud,” I remarked.

Not that I care. It’s not like I miss him. I don’t miss any of those people.

I made my peace with that part of my life and I was sure the feeling was mutual for everyone else as well.

“I’m so glad Remora’s finally gone! Everything’s much easier now!” Was what I was sure they must’ve said. ‘They’ being any one of them, including Tigershark.

Heh. ‘Remora’. What a silly name that was. To think it was all because I saw some dopey fish one day.

Yeah, I thought of the kid from time to time. Thought stuff like, “crap I just left and didn’t even say anything to her.” But then I was reminded of the fact that she had Ray and Sunny anyway, and they were much more equipped to take care of a kid. Plus, as far as I could tell, they were caring people. Not some frost-bitten oaf like me. After being reminded of that, I would always be relieved.

So yeah. No complaints from me. I had my own life now, and I didn’t know what kind of life that was, but my organs still functioned (possibly? Haven’t checked in a while).

Two or more minutes passed and the server handed me a glass of water in a wine glass.

Gee, it really is fancy.

“Thank you,” I handed the server another hundred.

“Have you had time to look at the menu?” He asked.

Fuck. There was a menu? All this time...see, this is what thinking does to you.

“Ice...cream?” I blurted out.

“You want ice cream?”

Why did I say ice cream? Well now it’s out there, so I have no choice but to double down, otherwise I come off as awkward.

“Yes. Get me some of your finest ice cream. Please,” I begged, then gestured and handed another bit of currency to the server.

“Very well. What flavor, madame?”

“Fish…” No. That would be awful. Shut your mouth now.

“Fish?”

“No. I said ‘fresh’. As in, fresh strawberries, please.”

“Very well. I will have a waiter bring you our finest of sherbets.”

“Who?”

“Who will the waiter be?”

“No. Who is ‘Sure Bert’?”

Rather than answer my question, he laughed, then walked away.

How rude. And to think I gave him a tip. Oh well, I have to remember how hard of a life food service workers have. He probably doesn’t get much tips from other people. He probably sleeps on broken glass. Rich people tend to be stingy, after all, which is why I should have their money instead.

When the waiter arrived, he set down a large bowl filled with several mounds of light-reddish colored ice cream and piles of strawberries on top.

“Here you are, madame,” the waiter took a bow as he gestured to the food before me.

“Th...thank you,” I shivered. It was as if I was also one of those ice balls.

“Are you cold, miss?” He asked, his soft politeness almost deceiving me into believing he had any concern.

“Mm...a little…”

“Would you like to eat outside?” He offered.

What the fuck? That server guy said there was no other seating available. That bastard.

“Uh...no...that wouldn’t fix anything. Thank you, though,” I appreciated the offer, really, even if I knew how futile it would have been. For the effort, I handed him a couple of hundred dollar bills. Also, for the record, his attire was so fancy that it reminded me of that one ogre in Shrek. Couldn’t quite remember that ogre’s name, but he wore a fancy outfit, that much I knew. Also, the waiter had hair, I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention.

After he took the money, his tune changed.

“Oh...oh my. Uh...can I massage your back? Bring you cushions for your seat? More food, perhaps?” He seemed desperate and predatory.

“What’s your problem? I just want to eat my ice cream, creep,” I side-eyed the guy who I thought was decent up until that moment.

“Sorry. By all means,” he skittered away, obvious damage control.

I shook my head. Here I thought I would enjoy myself at such a stuffy establishment, but no, it was not meant to be. How tragic.

I left that place, and I wasn’t even sure if I paid for my meal. All in all, I was rather disappointed, especially since I didn’t even want ice cream. I would’ve been just fine with something like shrimp fettuccine alfredo, or a massive super rare steak along with a valley of grapes. But noooo...lousy service gave me ice cream instead.

That was fine. It was good ice cream, for what it was worth, and even though it wasn’t filling, it did bring me a false sense of warmth which I couldn’t have gotten from whatever other food I would’ve wanted instead.

Out on the streets, I took my stride back toward the apartment I’ve occupied for about four or five months now. My days never really consisted of much, so as far as I was concerned, my day was pretty much done. Yet the sun had yet to set and there was little guarantee that I would see any sleep. Such was the gamble I was willing to take. It wasn’t like the apartment was a home, and it wasn’t like the quiet I had found was peace, but inaction in a confined setting was close enough to both of those things for the time being.

So when I opened the door and was about to make my way up the stairs, I was stopped by the landlord, a vile woman who always seemed to wear Hawaiian shirts and had dark sunglasses. Even at night.

“Lenora!” Shouted Abalone, the vile landlord in question, and an extraordinary cause of problems. Many times I’ve heard her cursing up a storm and pounding on doors, demanding her toll like she was on a bridge and not in an apartment complex. Coupled with those demands were the threat of eviction, which I would then wait until she was done with her tirade, walk up to the doors of the people she made miserable, and slipped rent money underneath their door. All so I could get some peace and quiet in my own apartment.

“How many times have I told you to call me Len? Len Arietty!” I reminded her. Two of us could shout, even though I really didn’t like to raise my voice. It was such a chore to do.

(But yes, I went by Lenora, because it seemed much more name-like of a name than Remora, which was not a very name-name)

“Hmph. I’ll call you the name you put on your lease and nothing more,” she stuck her nose up, that self-righteous attitude which was unwarranted.

Nobody appreciates a good pun these days. That’s the problem with modern society.

“And I won’t call you at all. Because I don’t have a phone,” I pointed out. I had a phone, but it was back at a certain diner which wouldn’t be named (I was pretty sure it didn’t have a name, anyway).

“You should get one. What if you’re late on a payment and need an extension?” She hung over my head, but being that I just ate, I didn’t take the bait.

I could buy out the apartment complex, myself, if I wanted to, and I would do it just to put you out of a job.

“Have I ever been late on a payment, Abalone?” I asked in turn, doing my best to make a little baby voice, along with it.

“One day, Lenora. One day,” she warned. What she was trying to warn, however, wasn’t clear.

“One day what? Which day? Tuesday? Just any old day?” I asked, genuine in my confusion.

“Just one day,” she growled.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me which day it will be,” I was exhausted enough as it was, I wasn’t about to play any guessing games, “uh, one day to you, too, and take care?”

I trudged up the stairs. There was nothing more to speak about and if I wanted to be confused, I’d just go seek out any other social interaction.

After a sluggish march, I stood at the door to Apartment 108. The most basic of numbers. Totally inconspicuous. My hands shook and felt frostbitten as I struggled to place the key in its respective hole. It was a delicate process, one with many fumbles, and at one point I dropped the key. It wasn’t one of my proudest moments, but I didn’t care for such things as ‘pride’ and any grandiose reactions were just a waste of breath.

Inside of the apartment was a sparse collection of what was necessary and nothing more: a small kitchen with a refrigerator, toaster, and microwave oven. None of those things went used, as I preferred to eat out (in spite of the presence of other people), but at times I would press the lever for the toaster down, just so I could try to feel the warm currents against my hands. When that didn’t happen, I would feel compelled to stick my hand in, but so far, I’ve resisted.

Aside from those things, there was a closet with a box of clothing. Shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap. None of those things were very impressive and showers always felt awkward. It was just standing there and letting water fall on me, worse, no matter how much I turned the dial, it remained cold. Then when I stepped out of the shower, and steam came out, but I continued to be a shivering mess, I just felt like a fool.

When I slept, if I slept, I would lay on my back in the middle of the floor, wrapped up in a snuggie (yes, that very same snuggie gifted to me from Cybele, some random woman who lived in an airport. While I didn’t really know her, so I couldn’t even hope to care about her, I refused to allow myself to forget such a kind gesture. Besides, snuggies are...snug) and a space heater next to me to keep me company. Even if the space heater did nothing, it was the gesture, what it represented...or maybe I was just desperate. Like, maybe one day, I would actually feel what I was meant to.

Most of the time I laid on the floor, regardless of sleep. It was just what I did. Dwell on things, like life, what I’ve been through, events that had transpired, and who I was. None of it ever did me anything good and any questions I had on life never went answered. It sucked not even having a phone, as there were probably hundreds of thousands of memes that I was missing out on. Things I would never understand without the context, and even then, sometimes things were better without the context. Small price to pay to live in the isolation I so desired, I suppose.

But let’s not dwell on that. Let’s not dwell on my dwelling. If rest may come, then let it come. That was enough.

By now, there must have been an apparent contradiction: if I wanted to isolate myself, why live in a populated area? In fact, I was probably better isolated in the arctic, but that place was so. Damn. Cold.

Well, the answer was a strange one, and it was both an advantage and disadvantage: with all the crowds of people in a city, most people didn’t care who you were. Paid you no mind. Then again, when there were crowds, there was always the possibility that they would pay you mind. In fact, that meant even more people with their watchful eyes who would want nothing more than to react to your every move and mistake. Any quirk or sudden motion that didn’t fit with the norm and those faceless entities were sure to pounce.

But the same thing could happen in a less populated area, and in fact, in a place less popular, you would know for a fact that people were talking about you. That was terrible and bad and uncool. Would not recommend.

Of course, I had a solution, and it was to just not care. When that solution failed, which 9.9 times out of 10, did, I wandered into the town square where there was a fountain and park benches scattered around and took a seat. For whatever reason, few people ever occupied the town square, and especially not in the morning. Someone more inquisitive might have wondered why that was, but I wasn’t about to question a good thing.

Down on the ground was a crow that hopped about. Rather than pigeons, the city seemed to be more dominated by crows. Wasn’t complaining, birds were birds. Could’ve been a cockatrice and I wouldn’t have anything to say on the matter. Of course, I stared down at the crow and their little hops. My palm was against the side of my face and I leaned forward.

“Look at you: are you dancing for others or just to dance? Or is that just how you walk?” I asked the little bird. Then, out of boredom, I dug into my jacket pocket and tossed some bird seeds the crow’s way.

“Make no mistake: I’m not rewarding you for your dance. I’m just bored,” I informed the crow, not that the crow cared. In the crow’s eyes, a free snack was a free snack.

As of late, it’s become a routine of mine to toss stuff at crows. It started one day (probably not the day that landlord was referring to) situated at the town square where I thought of nothing in particular and I had a sandwich in my hand. Some pieces of the sandwich and when a crow started eating the fallen piece, I got a little annoyed.

“Get your own sandwich, crow,” I remember scolding the black bird. My words didn’t seem to deter the crow at all (what could I say? I wasn’t a very threatening person) and I didn’t really care to scold the crow any further. It was just a sandwich, after all. But after that day, I took it upon myself to buy some bird seeds at the local bird seed store.

“Just so you know, just because I’m doing this nice thing, I don’t care about you,” I told the crow, then tossed another handful of birdseed. That crow just pecked away.

“See? That’s what I like about you: you don’t care either. I could call you a dummy stupid butt bird and you wouldn’t have anything to say, would you? I could call you a big stinky hairy butt bird.”

Yep. Nothing to say. The crow looked up at me for a brief second. I gave a small wave, and then they went right back to eating.

“Why can’t more people be like you, crow? We have a mutual apathy for each other and we still get along just fine…” I think I was starting to think things I didn’t want to think about.

Just as I was about to seed the crow further, that little opportunist looked away, then flew off.

Looks like we got a dine and dasher.

“Heh, were you offended by what I said after all?” I wondered aloud. If anyone saw me they must have wondered, “what was that crazy lady doing in that thick jacket, shivering and talking to a crow?” But what were they doing watching me for? If anything, they were the crazy ones for watching.

Maybe the bench would be a nice place for a nap, if I could find any tiredness at all. I tapped my foot and pondered my options.

“What to do...what to do…”

Before I could figure that out, the crow returned (or at least, a crow returned. Could’ve been any old crow).

That crow landed next to my feet and set down something on the ground. I spread my legs and peered down to find a silver coin.

“What...what the...no. No, no, no. That’s not part of the deal. You’re not supposed to give me money, look,” I reached into my pocket and pulled out several hundred dollar bills, “I’ve got plenty of that. I’m just doing this out of boredom.”

Instead of doing the sensible thing and taking off with the quarter after realizing their mistake, the stubborn crow pushed the quarter closer to me with their beak.

“Dude, you’re being real pushy. Don’t you know that’s a real turn off?”

Again, the crow remained persistent, and having had enough, I got up and shooed the crow away.

“Go on, begone with ye!” I waved my hands away, and the crow at last took off, although I noticed that the quarter was still next to me. What a hassle.

“Would it be bad if I didn’t take this? I mean, what if that crow was actually a fairy in disguise and if I don’t take their payment, they’ll curse me?” I pondered. There was no real need to ponder, as I knew that fairies weren’t real (although there were creatures from outside of earth that were fairy-like) and it wasn’t like my life wasn’t already cursed from the day I was born. But still, if fairies were real…

OK. I took the quarter. Better safe than sorry.

My next plan of attack was...my growling stomach. Well, that was unexpected, but who would I be to not quell the beast?

Whenever I felt that beast (my stomach) roar, I did what any sensible person would do and I went and got coffee. Back in my diner days, I never really gave coffee much thought despite it being a signature drink at such places. Yes, I was aware of its existence, but I never really saw value in it. Now, having lived a new life filled with self-discovery and wonder, I learned the truth: coffee was like a drink and a meal all in one. Well, it helped to also get a meal along with the coffee. Maybe I’d consider that.

I looked around and as luck would have it, there was a coffee shop situated just behind where I had sat, obscured by tables with umbrellas and kiosks (one selling deep-fried portabella mushrooms, the other selling horseshoe crab enthusiast magazines with little horseshoe crab plushies hanging off the ceiling of the kiosk). Drip Drip Drop Coffee was the name of the place, and with a name like that, it was almost certain that the coffee was top quality.

“I know a place…” I mouthed the words, then stepped forward and into Drip Drip Drop. An ominous feeling followed me along as I entered. There were indeed far too many people. There were at least five people inside, and worse yet, some were conversing with each other. Not seated were three people in line who I had to stand behind. As much stomach continued to growl, I looked up at the menu.

Oh, thank goodness, they have sandwiches. Sub sandwiches, to boot. I think I’ll order a cold cut. Every kind of meat on it. Double stacked. You know, now that I think about it, why are they called ‘sub’ sandwiches? I get it’s short for submarine, but it doesn’t even look like a submarine. It looks like a sandwich. Makes me think that whoever named it didn’t even know what a submarine looked like. That, or didn’t know what a sandwich looked like, and just thought everything else that wasn’t a submarine was just like a submarine, but not. Maybe it’s called that cause some bored person in a submarine had enough materials to make a sandwich, and they just happened to be in a submarine when they made it. On that note, I’m willing to bet that if you drop a sub sandwiches in the ocean, it will, indeed, get soggy.

“Monster energy iced cappuccino with quadruple shot espresso for ‘Boruto’!” One of the baristas shouted. I found that to be an odd name, but a little curious, I looked around and saw some average height scrawny woman in a camouflage print hoodie as well as camo pants whose brown ponytail poked out from her backwards cap.

“Heh. Heh heh heh. They probably think my name really is Boruto. Suckers,” sneered the gremlin-like stranger.

I shook my head. Didn’t people have better things to do than give poor baristas a fake name? They were already underpaid and overworked as it was, no need to humiliate them further.

“Hello? Are you going to order?” Asked a faint and soft, but cheery voice. I looked around, then heard a tap against the counter. That was when I realized that there was no longer a line in front of me and I was supposed to be the next to order.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” I stepped forward. Behind the counter was a young woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties and had wavy, pink hair along with three piercings along both ears. On each cheek were three freckles.

“That’s fine! There’s no one behind you!” She informed me in a sing-song like voice. Indeed, there was no one behind me, much to my relief. But something told me that I would have noticed had there been someone behind me.

“Oh, huh. You’re cute,” I remarked, and realizing that had been spoken aloud, I continued as if nothing was said, “I’ll get a…” I shivered much more than I meant to and it felt more like a jolt.

“Air conditioner?” She asked.

I gave a feeble nod.

“Yeah, it’s always out of wack. I get it’s a warm day and all, but seriously, does it have to feel like we’re in the freakin’ arctic?”

Finally someone who gets it. Or at least I don’t have to make up a big excuse.

“Yeah...Okay. I think I’m ready. I’ll get a mocha and a c...co…” the shivering continued.

“Take your time.”

I really don’t want to. I want to be in, then out.

“Cold cut sandwich,” I sped through the words.

“Great! And how do you want your coffee?”

“Cold...too…” I answered through grit teeth.

“Mm...mm...I get it. Yeah. Hot day, cold coffee. Makes sense. Yeah.”

That had nothing to do with it. Maybe it didn’t make sense for me to get it, what with the whole idea of wanting to feel warmth, but the thing was, when I drank hot coffee, it just tasted like cold anyway. So if I got cold coffee, at least I could taste it. Besides, it’ s not like the temperature of the coffee really changes the body’s temperature. It’s not like people dump cold coffee on their head on a hot day, or hot coffee on their head on a cold day. That’ s not how it worked.

I fished out the handful of hundred dollar bills and set them on the counter.

“Uh, keep the change? Bye.” “Wait,” she called out before I could get very far, “Can I get a name for the order?”

Crap. Name. Think, think…

“Karen,” that was a rather unassuming name with no connotations attached whatsoever, unlike something like Rhea. “Karen Alotte.”

“What kind of name is that?!” Shouted the annoying ponytail gremlin, “At least Boruto is an actual name! Fictional, mind you, but still real!”

I lowered my head. Customers really were the worst.

“Don’t let it get to you,” the barista told me. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a name that’s not Boruto.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Well, I wouldn’t have to deal with any annoying customers and their pointless comments much longer. About five minutes later, my name was called and I headed out the door without a second thought, back to where I was situated in the town square. While I didn’t know the time, I assumed it was about noonish, give or take some minutes.

Now there were two crows when once was one. It must have been a good omen, all because I took that quarter.

“Hey guys. Look what I got,” I pointed to my sandwich. Those crows didn’t so much as look up.

“Well, that’s fine, too. I’m not offering you any.”

One iced coffee later, and halfway through my sandwich, I heard a distinct voice yell out from behind me.

“YOU’RE CUTE TOO!” Their voice rang through the air and I turned around and saw a girl with pink hair who stood before me, one foot in front of the other, and cupped her mouth with her hands.

I turned back to the crows.

“Get a load of this girl,” I pointed my thumb behind me and told them, “I feel bad for whoever she’s calling to.”

Seeing as no one else had it in their hearts to break the news to her, I took it upon myself. After all, I was cold enough to not hold back.

“Hey, girl! You’re embarassing yourself!” I shouted back to her. “Everyone around can hear you!”

She looked over at me and stood up straight, then blinked.

“Oh. Sorry,” she replied, then walked over. “I was trying to get your attention, actually.”

I pointed to myself.

“Me? Cute? Why?” I was most confused. I didn’t recall ever being called ‘cute’ before.

“Does it have to be said?” She gave a smile that looked like she was about to burst into laughter. “Your puffy jacket, your short black hair, your nervousness,” she began to list.

“The nervousness isn’t cute...I’m just generally uncomfortable,” I corrected.

“Okay, well, still! You said I’m cute, and I think you’re cute too! Just accept it!”

I looked away and blushed. So that’s what it was all about, huh? I just had to say that out loud and now I was reaping the consequences?

“So it was you,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know, it’s weird, right? It’s just that I’ve always been told that by creepy dudes and not someone as attractive as yourself,” she remarked.

“I’m not at...at...I’m repellent,” I concluded, and put my hands on my hips all proud.

“Oh, sure. Tell yourself that,” she slouched over and groaned, then perked right back up. “Hey! Can I sit next to you?”

I looked around.

“It is possible,” I informed her. I didn’t know why she would want to, seeing as there were plenty of other places to sit elsewhere, but unless she had a condition that made it hard for her to sit down, then I didn’t see why that would be a problem.

She sat down and I felt a wave of discomfort come over me.

It was so much easier to eat a sandwich when I didn’t have someone sitting next to me.

“Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” I asked.

“It’s my lunch break! I’m usually not very hungry on my lunch breaks, so I usually wait to eat until I’m off work. Because of that, I usually have a lot of free time, and since I’m a very social person, I tend to have conversations with random people.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that. What if you end up talking to someone dangerous?” I suggested.

“Hmm...that’s a good point. Are you dangerous?”

“Not at the moment, no,” I replied without thought.

“Then I think it’s fine to talk to you, no?”

I shrugged.

“Do what you want.”

She beamed a bright grin, but it took about a solid minute before she had anything more to say and instead she just kicked her legs back and forth against the bench. It was a little creepy.

“So, Karen, was it?” She leaned her head forward and asked.

“That was a name I used, yes.”

“Oh? That’s not your name?”

Damn it. I shouldn’t have phrased it that way.

“I’m...still trying to figure out a name,” I admitted.

“What do you mean?”

I let out a heavy sigh. If there was something I cared about...then that one thing was something I didn’t want to care about. But I had to be delicate in my apathy.

“Well, it’s like...I was going by a different name for a little while and before that, I had a different name, my original name. I also had many other names, but that original name, that was who I considered myself to be. You follow?”

She nodded.

“I think so. Go on?”

Why? Oh, well. If I’m committed to not caring, then I have to treat this with a carefree attitude.

“Thing is, that name didn’t really make me uncomfortable in of itself. I once went to a meeting just for the hell of it and decided to talk about the name issue with them, too, and they thought I was referring to a ‘deadname’, which I didn’t know what that was, so someone explained it and mad respect to trans people, but that’s not quite what I mean.”

“All right. So what do you mean?”

“Well, I guess you can think of it like a deadname. Because it’s like, imagine there was another me, like, hypothetically, and it’s like that other me died. That other me, who shared that name, no longer exists, and can’t exist, but they still follow me. Not physically, but it’s like I’d get compared to how she was, the good and the bad. Worse, I compared myself to that other me. I felt inferior at times, other times I desired to be superior. It was like I was living in a shadow of myself and I didn’t know any other way to escape from it but to change my name. Thing is, though, all the names I’ve come up with just haven’t feel right, either.”

“So, you’ve been trying to escape from yourself?” She asked, now less inquisitive and more sounding confused.

“Yeah, funny enough, I think I have been, and I don’t know what it is: whether or not I can fundamentally change or whether or not I want to. I mean, I’m comfortable enough, as uncomfortable as my existence is, but I also didn’t want to associate with that other me. Hypothetically, I mean.”

“Right. It’s easy to say ‘don’t compare yourself to others’ but I suppose it’s harder when you have this idealized version of yourself that you compare to? I know I get thoughts like, ‘I should be better than this. I know I can be smarter, so why do I have this job?’ Which can then spiral down and...yeah…”

I wasn’t really sure what she was referring to. She had me in the first half, not gonna lie, but then it just fell apart in the second half.

“You sound like you need therapy,” I pointed out, “but anyway, I think what it comes down to is, there’s over a million people with that name, or at least five. Sure, she was one version of me, but does that mean that two people can’t have the same name? I don’t think so. Maybe I’m not exactly like her, but she lived her life and I’m living mine. So I think I’m ready now,” I concluded, then looked over to her and tried my best to give a smile. It was only slight. But progress was progress.

“One talk and you’re ready?” She looked surprised.

My heart took a huge leap. It was probably the coffee, but it could have also been because of what I was about to say.

“Yeah. I’m Rhea Flection.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Miss Flection. My name’s Ceres. Ceres Lee.”

Aww...everything was going so well, too…

I got up.

“Nope. Nope. Not doing this again. I’m out,” I took a few steps away.

“What?!”

Oh, come on, me. If you can get past one name, you can get past another.

I sucked in my pride, which in this case, was just my breath, and I walked right back and sat right back down.

“Okay, sorry. That was rash,” I admitted. “Also, I left my sandwich behind.”

I picked it up and continued eating.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“I once knew someone with a name similar to yours and she was very dear to me,” I confessed. “But I didn’t care about her. Though I wanted to be friends with her, and close with her, but...I guess can’t really do that when you’re unable to be close with others.”

“Okay, so it’s someone dear to you that you don’t care about?” She asked as she counted on her fingers. What she counted, I wasn’t sure.

“Yes. Exactly. See, you get it. By the way, I don’t have feelings for you.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

Damn, she got me there.

“But yeah, her name was Demetria, and Ceres is the Roman equivalent of Demeter...yeah, I know, I’ve done my research, but in my defense, I only found that out recently. Anyway, she was kind of a nuisance and I didn’t really understand much of her behavior and I was just fine being on my own. But I don’t know, something kind of happened over time and then I got sick and I really wanted to confide my whole life and then I told her something I shouldn’t have. I mean, it felt right at the time, but it wasn’t true.”

“What was it?”

“That I didn’t care about her.”

Her mouth hung low and she tilted her head, like she was just about to throw up.

“Okay...but didn’t you just tell me that you don’t? I swear, you keep contradicting yourself.”

“I know! My head was a mess then and it’s a mess now. I didn’t understand and rather than think about it, I decided that I didn’t want to and so I haven’t been, but it still bothers me.”

“Sounds like you need a therapist,” she pointed out.

“Hey, that’s what I told you.”

“Yeah, and how do you know I don’t have one?”

Argh. I didn’t consider that one.

“I don’t know. I think I still need to figure out how to identify that I care about something. That would be a good first step. But still, I wish I could take it back. I can at least identify that as a mistake.”

“So, Rhea Flection? You didn’t do any self-reflection?”

I scowled.

“Ceres Lee? Seriously?”

She nudged me, I nudged her back. We both laughed.

“I can’t believe you called me cute only to talk about another girl,” she laughed, “do you know what that all sounds like to me?”

Don’t say ‘love’. Please.

“What?” I asked, as much as I’d rather not hear the answer.

“It sounds like I’m in some kind of romantic comedy! Like I walked into a movie set and I didn’t even know it!”

“Oh, come on. These things can happen. This isn’t fiction, it’s real life.”

“I know, I know,” she laughed and wiped away some sweat from her eye. “It’s just...so cliché, y’know?”

“I guess,” I grumbled, “but if I’m gonna be feeling things, I’d like to know that I’m feeling things.”

Ceres pulled out her phone.

“Oh hey, I still have like fifteen minutes before I gotta get back. Wanna walk around town a bit?”

“Sure, but I don’t see why,” I replied and shrugged.

We walked past her place of employment, past the various shops, and continued to wander.

“I need to kill off time. I’m not about to go back to work early!” She explained.

Makes sense, but why am I tagging along?

“Look! It’s a hat shop!” She’d point out, or, “look! An ostrich museum!”

My eyes scanned around throughout; nothing of interest stood out to me, but I didn’t want to miss anything in case something caught my eye.

From an alleyway shot out a thin thread-like appendage in Ceres’ direction. Acting fast, I ducked, then shoved Ceres out of the way. She wobbled a bit, lost her balance, then fell. Still better than whatever that thing would’ve done to her.

“Hey, what was that for?!” She balked.

“Sorry. Just wait here,” I instructed.

I ran into the alleyway. It may have been nothing or it may have been a trap. Even if I had ran right into a trap, I would much rather have done so than endanger some stranger I just met.

At first, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a dead-end alleyway with a dumpster and a brick wall in the very back. Then, as if materialized from the shadow cast by the enclosed area, was a dark cloaked figure with a blank white stone mask over where their face should have been. Behind the mask was a thick head of long, flowing golden hair. They pointed one near-skeletal thin hand forward, and out from the cloak, released several more of those appendages.

I ducked and rolled toward the side of the wall.

“You have evaded every one of my traps, and in some cases, were already lying in wait with a countermeasure,” they spoke, a solemn monotone, not unlike my own voice, but with a wispy tone of sorrow attached.

“Uh, sorry for being smart, I guess?”

They shook their head.

“Even as those you’ve allied yourself with in the arctic are encased in an inescapable fog, you remain unharmed. But that all ends now. Once you are gone, I will have no need for such drastic measures.”

After hearing those words, I was stunned and I felt the shivers return, along with a tenseness I didn’t anticipate.

“What are you talking about? For that matter, who are you?” I forced out the words, a heavy and chilly breath let out along with them.

“The fact that you don’t know only makes it worse,” uttered their cryptic reply.

From behind me I heard the clacks of shoes and caught in the corner of my eye, Ceres, running up to me.

“What’s going on? Who is this guy?” She asked.

“No offense, but I think they’d just give you the same answer they gave me,” I replied without much thought, and then upon realizing who was next to me, turned to scold. “I thought I told you to stay where you were!” I hissed.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why!” She argued.

“That’s because I didn’t know what was up, but you should trust that I wouldn’t just push somebody for no reason!”

My presumed enemy spoke up and freed me from my distraction.

“So I see you’ve brought someone else with you. Rather unfortunate, but I will dispose of you both.”

“Go. Now,” I hissed at Ceres.

She looked at me, then over to the cloaked figure.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good call,” she nodded, and began to run out, but fell.

“Ow! It’s like there’s an invisible wall or something,” she rubbed her forehead.

They must have set up a bounded field. They’re really expecting to trap us in and kill us both.

Each of their arms stretched out now and the fingers on each hand turned to little blades. Along with that, several thorny vines protruded from each arm.

“Okay. This guy certainly isn’t normal,” in fact, I’m reminded of a previous encounter. “Ceres,” I addressed her, “I’m much better at taking a life than I am defending one, so I suggest you take cover behind that dumpster.”

“Taking a li – What are you talking about?!” She cried out.

Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll take any hits that come, so just take cover.”

At last, she did as I instructed, and hid behind the dumpster.

With little time to react, I covered my head with each arm as the vines shot forth my way. Their thorns cut right into my arms and I felt each sting. I ducked under to avoid any more hits, and moved forward toward the figure, whose arms were poised to strike me. Before they could slice through me, I grabbed one of their arms and tossed them into the nearby wall, their back slammed again and they fell back.

“Let me guess: Buddy Fairweather?” I asked as I stood back up.

“Took you long enough. He was just a spare corpse, but I was the man who spoke through him, yes,” oozed out his voice as he picked himself back up.

Spare corpse?

“I should have known better to assume it would end with him,” I remarked. If I recall, I even figured that things wouldn’t end, but just like a fool, I forgot all about it.

“How unfortunate, indeed. But it will end with you. You’re powerless without your rifle. Worse, you have no weapons, nor any means of defense.”

I hate to admit, but he’s right. I can take some hits, I’ve got my reflexes, but I’m unequipped against a supernatural being.

“Hey Ceres! Find me something to use as a weapon, will ya?” I called over.

“You want me to go dumpster diving?!” She called back.

“Yeah!”

She stood up and opened the lid and I saw several of those vines launch toward her again.

“Nope!” I kicked my leg up and stamped those series of vines out of the way. His clawed hand struck at my leg and I lifted it higher just to avoid them.

That was a close call.

“I found a metal rod!” Ceres exclaimed.

How convenient.

She tossed it over, but a few of those vines caught it instead. They worked together to bend, then snap them in half. Desperate, I grabbed onto them from the base of one of his arms and yanked against them. As I squeezed and tugged, the thorns from the vines tore against my palm and bled through. I would just have to endure a bit of bleeding.

As I exerted my strength, I slammed the group of vines against the wall. At the same time, they were successful in snapping the metal rod in half, but also dropped the split pieces as well. I hurried and picked them up in each hand, and at that same instance, he tried to strike down with both of his bladed hands. I caught them with both rods.

I then ducked down and released the rods, then shoved them both into his chest. To my surprise, blood seeped through the wound.

“Rhea! Are you okay?” Ceres shouted.

Jeez. No discretion at all.

“So you’re going by that name, now? Before you only used it as a ruse, but now you embrace it?” He asked, still alive, even through what should have been a fatal wound. But of course, I knew better than to consider something so simple to be fatal. Not when I wasn’t dealing with a simple person in the first place.

“What’s it to you?” My lips spread to an ecstatic smile.

“I only find it amusing, is all,” he seemed to smile as well, then took one of his hands and swiped right at me. I managed to pull out one of the rods to block the attack, but in the process of trying to pull out the other, his other hand swiped faster than I could react and slashed across my face. Small cuts formed along my cheek. As much as he got a clear hit in, I was most surprised to find how little I felt from it.

“Are you hurt?!” Ceres cried out.

Blood ran down from my cheek, but I only felt a little bit of a sting at best.

“No, I’m just bleeding,” I replied, then turned to my enemy, “don’t you know that if you wanna go in me, you have to go deeper?”

He tried to slash again, but I wouldn’t let him get away with it twice, not when I was sure he’d make for a more fatal cut the second time around. I pulled out the other rod, blood oozed from the gash in his chest, but he looked unfazed by the injury. I blocked his swipe, then kicked him back into the wall and plunged the tip of one of the split rods into his head. He blocked with his bladed hand, but it just went through as well and I continued to drive it in until it tore through his mask and wedged its way into his skull.

He gasped out and cracks formed in his mask until it broke off. In its place, instead of a face, looked to be a mass of worms.

“I take it that after I tear you apart, this won’t end?” I asked.

“Yes...this is but one feeble body…”

“Good to know,” I hissed, then took the other rod and jammed it back into his chest.

As he gasped out his last breaths, the worm-face caved in and formed something of a smile.

“Tell me: do you fear death?” He rasped.

I shook my head.

“No. But I fear what you might do with the dead,” I answered.

After that, his body dissolved into a black ooze, then a puff of smoke which fizzled up until it faded and there was no longer a single trace that anyone, or anything, was there.

I took several heavy breaths after that and dropped the metal rods to the ground.

“What was all that?!” Ceres stood beside me in shock. “For that matter, what did he mean by anything he said?! And ‘rifle’?”

“A rifle is a type of gun,” I informed her.

“I know that! Okay…” she took heavy breaths as well, more out of shock than anything, as she had no trace of injury save for some bruises from falling. “How do we get out of here and are you going to be okay? You’re badly injured!”

“This?” I looked down at my arms. “Nah. I’ve had worse. But that should’ve gone smoother, that’s for sure. All that tells me is that I’ve been slacking. But that was just the rush I need.”

I was smiling. Even a simple sense of heat from injuries were enough for me.

“What do you mean?”

I smiled.

“I guess I’m just never truly alive unless it’s in a fight.”

“Okay...you’re scaring me a little. But seriously, how are we going to get out of here? Weren’t we blocked off?”

I shrugged.

“Those barrier devices aren’t meant to last for a long time. They usually dissipate after a while,” I explained. They’re good when you want to trap someone in and are confident that you can take care of your target quickly. Less effective in prolonged fights. However, it’s more concerning that he had one set up at all. I don’t have to think very hard to understand the implications.

“Well, gee, ain’t that fucking convenient?” She just about gasped. Poor barista must’ve seen too much and if I had to guess, her head was spinning in a thousand different directions.

I unzipped my jacket and took it off, then dropped that on the ground as well. It was dirty now and did me no good, seeing how torn it had become due to the nature of the fight. As soon as I did so, I began to shiver with greater intensity.

“Are you all right?” She looked up and asked.

“Y-yeah...it’s just a condition of mine. Come on, let’s get out of here,” I folded my arms together and walked out from the alleyway. Sure enough, there was no barrier keeping either of us in.

“You know, I never noticed before with the jacket, but you’re really muscular,” Ceres pointed out.

“I’m surprised, myself, since I haven’t been very active in a while,” I replied. Though something tells me I’m ready to start working out again.

As soon as we stepped back out into the street, Ceres checked her phone.

“Crap! My lunch break just got over! My manager said that if I was late from my break again, she’d fire me! My life is over!” She started to freak out.

“Considering what we just went through, I’d say your life was almost over already,” I pointed out.

“This is so much worse! I don’t wanna be out of a job!” She began to whine.

“I think if you had died, you would have also been out of a job, just saying.”

“This is serious!”

I groaned. Talk about skewed priorities. Before I could argue further, she ran back toward the coffee shop.

“I’m not gonna make it in time!” She yelled as she ran. I chased after and soon caught up to her.

“You know, I don’t think your boss should fire you. If anything, it’s my fault you got into that mess,” I told her. After all, if she had literally gone to talk to anyone else, she might not have had that problem. Besides, whoever her boss was should be a little understanding over the fact that their employee’s life was threatened.

We both rushed into the coffee shop at once and she ran past the customers and into the back. I followed behind, even though that probably wasn’t allowed. But who was I to care about something like that?

In the back was a little area with a large porcelain sink and many dishes and soapy water filled to the top of it. At the back wall, where the uniforms were, stood the manager, a middle aged woman with curly red hair. Her arms were cross and she tapped her foot.

“Ceres Lee! What did I tell you would happen if you were back late from break again?” She growled.

“But...but..!” Ceres stammered and tried to come up with an explanation, but her words didn’t ever come.

“No excuses! You’re always slacking off!”

“Hey!” I cut in. Her managed turned to me and exchanged her cross expression my way.

Great. As if I really wanted to deal with confrontation.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I’m a paying customer,” I informed her.

“Okay, well, this place is off limits, it doesn’t matter if you’re a customer or not.”

Do I look like I give a fuck what’s off limits?

“You shouldn’t fire her,” I refused to back down. “She was with me.”

“Trust me: she does this all the time. You’re not helping her case.”

I furrowed my brow and scrambled for an excuse.

“For your information, I’m her girlfriend!” I blurted out.

Ceres just looked at me all tense, her face red, and she shook it slow to tell me that what I just said was a bad idea. But as with most things, I didn’t care.

“My dear is always telling me how much she hates how little we have to spend together because of how busy you guys make her,” I came up with.

Tenser still, Ceres’s face didn’t move, but her eyes darted first to her manager, then toward me.

“Is this true? Is this person your girlfriend, Ceres?” Her manager asked.

Ceres broke a sweat, then gulped.

“Y...yes…” She squeaked out, almost inaudible.

“I see. I didn’t know we worked you so hard considering you’re PART TIME,” she just about spat in Ceres’ face. Manager or not, that just seemed unnecessary.

Looks like I’m going to have to embarrass myself now.

“Hey!” I snapped, then stepped up to the manager until she backed up into a wall. I raised my right leg up to the wall and planted my foot next to the manager’s head.

“Do you know why they call me ‘Karen Alotte’?” I growled as I asked her. She looked over to my leg in terror.

“Hey,” I snapped my fingers. “Eyes up here. Do you know why?” I asked again.

“B-Because it’s your name?” She took a feeble guess, fear having been struck in her. Just like Ceres, her face turned red as well.

“No. It’s because I be carin’. A lot,” I then pointed behind me. “Now, my girl over there, this job is important to her, and I know that if she loses it, she’s going to be hurt. She’ll cry. That girl means the world to me and if I know that she’s been hurt, there will be hell to pay.”

“I...I see…” She glanced over at my leg. How disgusting. Couldn’t even look me in the eye.

“Let me tell you something: when I first met Ceres, I thought she was a weirdo. I didn’t understand her at all. She’d say things like ‘I want her to step on me’ and ‘wow, she could kill me and I’d thank her’,” as I was about to go on, I was interrupted by Ceres:

“What?! Er...I mean, that’s private stuff!” She was doing her best to play along, I could tell. I ignored her outcry. I wasn’t finished.

“But over time, she grew into an amazing person, someone who was both admirable and admired me as well. Sure, she still says weird things sometimes, but I love her anyway, and I know I’ve said some hurtful things in the past, things like how I didn’t care about her, but how could I not care about her? I mean, she’s…” I looked over to Ceres. She tried to force a smile through clenched teeth. “Well, just look at her!”

“Ahem,” her manager cleared her throat. “I...see your point,” she then turned to her employee, “Ceres!”

Ceres stood up stiff.

“Yes, ma’am?” She shouted, as if she was a cadet in an army.

“I’ll let you off with another warning, just today, but try to separate your love life from work. Got it?”

“Yes,” she hung her head low.

“Good. Get yourself cleaned up and get back out on the floor!”

I waved to Ceres.

“Bye, honey,” I told her in a teasing voice. After that, I walked away. As soon as I stepped out from the coffee shop, I heaved out a huge breath.

“Damn, that was embarrassing. I’m never going to that coffee shop again,” I told myself, then headed back to the apartment. There were a few things I had to retrieve before I could leave town.

For the most part, I didn’t really have anything to take with me. I gave away all the items in the apartment, save for the snuggie. That I wrapped around myself like a cape. I told the landlord that she could go to hell, and as much as I could have bought that apartment complex out, I figured it would be a waste, since I wouldn’t do anything with it, and I was ready to ditch that whole city anyway.

I had to take a few flights, as the next city I visited turned out to be a bust. But someone suggested I try another city, so I went, and at last found what, or rather, who I was looking for.

“Well, well,” she smiled her sinister smile as her head was leaned back against a shack, “look who decided to show up.”

“Hey Wendy,” I waved and already felt like I was going to regret being there. Beside Wendy was a large cup from a fast food restaurant and she took it and sipped through the straw, then set it back down.

“Name’s Ellie Tomiko now,” she informed me with a sly smile that told me she wasn’t all too serious about that change.

“Okay. Whatever. Sure.”

“Oh, poo. You’re no fun,” she seemed disappointed, then offered her drink to me, “want some?”

I took her cup and took a sip, then spit it out.

“What is that crap?!” I exclaimed.

“What? Never had soda before?”

“I know what soda tastes like. That was not it.”

“Okay, so maybe it got flat and then turned warm from sitting out in the sun too long, but it's still good,” she took a sip to demonstrate. Her taste buds must’ve been broken.

“What’s the point of something being warm if I can’t feel it? There wasn’t even any steam.”

“Because not everything warm has steam and not everything’s about you,” she informed me.

“I never said anything was. It just doesn’t make sense to me, is all.”

“So everything warm doesn’t matter if it’s not steamy? What about love?”

That didn’t make sense to me. Leave it to her to impart the philosophical questions, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around how you could assign a temperature to an emotion.

“How do you make love steamy?” I asked her.

“Want me to show you?” She smiled that sly smile once again, and I decided I was better off not knowing.

“Nah. I don’t trust you. I can always look it up online later.”

“Very well. So what can I do for you? By the way, you just missed her.”

I wasn’t sure who she was talking about.

“Who?” I asked.

She ignored the question, just as I figured she would.

“How have you been?” She asked instead.

I shrugged.

“Fine, I guess. I’m still alive.”

“That makes one of you,” she observed. That kind of stung a little. “But good. It’s good to see you.”

“What about you?” I asked, out of courtesy.

“Can’t complain. I’ve got plenty of money now. I took your advice and checked out that diner. Ray’s got me working as an escort now.”

“An escort?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I help people along, get them to safety.”

“Why does he have you doing that for?”

“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?” She asked right back instead.

Wrong. I have some idea.

“No. Tell me.”

“Basically, soon after you left, a thick fog filled the air and has remained since. Anyone who passes through it gets injured, and that’s only if they’re lucky. Some wind up dead. There’s no physical force that gives these injuries, but some people report seeing shadows in the fog, and others claim to hear voices, but can’t make out the words. Almost like the work of ghosts.”

This is all my fault. If not for my shortsightedness…

“Anyway, because of the properties of my sword, I’m able to pass through unharmed, even if it is difficult to navigate around. So Ray has me gather anyone I can and either send them to the diner, or send them to the nearest hospital. It hasn’t engulfed all of the arctic, but the fog seems to spread further with each passing day. All flights to and from the area have been canceled, in hopes of minimizing the risk.”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“It’s like an ebb and flow. Sometimes it eases up. Not the fog itself, but the damages. There’s periods where people don’t pass through. It’s still a risk being away, but he says he can afford to keep the place together as long as things don’t get too bad, but when things start to pick up again, the risk, the injuries, all that, I go back.”

“Are they all okay?” I asked.

“They’re still holding up, but it wears at them. I suspect it’s only a matter of time and they’d already be gone by now if not for outside help.”

“Outside help?”

“Yeah. They’ve practically made it into a full on restaurant again, except they don’t charge people. People sleep in the booths and any spare room there is. There’s a waitress and everything.”

Waitress. That brings to mind De...no, shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“Who’s the waitress?”

She shrugged.

“Dunno. Some kid with white hair. She takes the orders, Tigershark makes the food. Ray and Sunny oversee the whole thing. It’s a mess, but they’re making it work.”

That’s at least somewhat of a relief.

Before I could probe her for any more questions, her phone rang.

Oh, that’s new. She has a phone.

“Well speak of the devil!” Ellie (or Wendy) exclaimed, “how’s it going, Ray? Guess who’s with me right now. R –” Before she could continue, I gestured to her by sliding my finger across my neck and scowling. For added measure, I kicked her in the shin. “– Ow. Rowdy Roger, my good friend Roger.”

She then held the phone away and covered it with her hands.

“What was that for?” She hissed.

“I don’t want him to know I’m here,” I muttered.

She shook her head and put the phone back up to her ear.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I was feeling a bit silly, sorry about that. Oh? That bad, huh? All right, I’ll be on my way. Just keep holding out, okay? Bye.”

She hung up and set the phone down.

“Well, looks like that’s my cue,” she announced.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“Why? Worried about them?”

I gulped. My head sunk.

She studied me, then spoke again:

“You miss them, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Well look at you, my little Remora’s grown up. She’s got emotions,” she remarked.

“Hey, don’t tease me,” I pouted. “It’s just...I left and I shouldn’t have and now this…”

“What about Demetria?”

Oh, of course she had to go there.

“Yes. I miss her too.”

She scratched her chin.

“What if you see her again and she’s not the same person you knew when you last saw her?”

“That doesn’t matter. I want to see her again. I want to see everyone again.”

“You know, I’ve seen her recently. She’s gotten stronger. She might even be strong enough to take you on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

Ellie let out a heavy sigh, then looked up.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, which I’m sure you will, but the two of you really piss me off.”

“What? Where is this coming from?” I was taken aback.

“You know where it’s coming from,” she smiled her usual smile, even if I could tell her words were sincere, “you start feeling things you don’t understand and what do you do? You get all worked up and leave. Do you know what you do when you don’t understand something?”

“What?” I asked, even though I didn’t really like the lecture.

“You work on figuring it out! It’s just like if you’re on a mission, you gather all the information you need, you look for a solution.”

“But it’s not a mission,” I corrected.

“It was important to you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Well if you won’t think about it when it’s important, maybe it would help to think of it as a mission. As for her, she’d go on and tell me how ‘it’s no longer part of my life, so it’s no longer important’ as if that makes any sense at all.”

“It doesn’t?” I asked. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Come on. You’re no longer a janitor, but that life affects you, does it not?”

Ugh…

“Yeah.”

“So don’t you think it’s dumb to be like, ‘well, that didn’t work out, so it no longer matters to me’ when it clearly does. You guys can have your little soap opera if you want, misunderstand to your heart’s desire, but I’d really like to be left out of it. I like you guys, but I’m not here to babysit.”

“Thanks, I think?”

She shook her head.

“No problem. So about this fog situation, what are you going to do about it? We can’t let it keep going on, can we?”

That time, it was my turn to shake my head.

“I’ll gather as much information as I can, then work toward a solution,” I concluded.

“Good. Now, I should start heading out.”

“How are you going to get there?” I asked.

“I’ll figure out a way. What about you?”

“Same.”

As she was about to turn away, I asked her:

“Hey. Can we...be friends?”

She turned around and blinked.

“Friends? Sure.”

“Cool. Can I have your number?”

She smiled and held out the phone.

“This isn’t my phone.”

“Oh,” well, that was a bust.

“What about you?” She asked.

“I don’t have a phone right now. But I’ll get one eventually.”

She gave a light chuckle.

“Well, Remora, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon one way or another. Take care, eh?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “You too.”

Before we parted ways, she added, “wait right here.” After about a minute, she came out from the shack and handed me a sheet of paper.

“This should give you some leads.”

I folded the paper and placed it into my pocket.

Once we parted ways, I read the note, then began to formulate a plan: first, I would have to dye my hair again. Then, I’d need a boat. In other words, it was time for me to get rid of all my money and do something drastic.

[hamliet]

Hope to have sent all correctly but this is to say: this is the place AFO took Dabi , spinner and slept after the attack. Now I’ll check for you the time.

I think doesn’t really comply to the case , but AFO demanded for one of them to stay awake and basically take care of Shiga’s body. Now the deal is: I’d expect endeavor waking up being on the news. So while Touya is talking the news wasn’t still of public domain. In fact Enji just woke up from surgery I supposed. AFO inform us that he started his breakout right away , the same evening. But he arrived at the house at the dawn. Basically is tomorrow already. So Bakugo could have wake up 2 days of calendar or less. It would be

- Jakku happen on 1st of the month (to make math easier) AFO and league arrived on 2nd. Bakugo took two full days from Jakku to wake up , that’s mean a full 2 and a full day 3c waking up on 4th or

- Jakku happens on 1st, AFO escapes in 2nd. Bakugo then wake up somewhere in the day 3rd.

Because Shigaraki needs recovery I think no issues on AFO behalf to have him rest the whole 2nd day. This means that the whole league is resting through days number 2 and 3 when Bakugo wakes up. And if we opt this option we know that Bakugo’s waking up is the same of Enji, when he meets Rei and Dabi’s monologue starts as well.

If we pick the second option the reason why we hadn’t seen spinner or skeptic is super easy: AFO said and demand for one of them to patrol. And I think that why Dabi is alone , shirtless on the sofa. He’s just rehearsing what happened (giving us his flashback) while doing what AFO asked. If so, spinner is most likely sleeping (or taking care of Shiga).

So yep : this is the same house. AFO took all of them there , but Toga (who’s wandering somewhere) and most likely Touya is patrolling while Spinner takes some rest (or take care of his new reason to live).

Also i think I’ve already sent you a geographic thing (maybe you thought of it as too boring :( )

But I think it’s possible to roughly track down toga. Now , I’ve found some posts which claimed that Jakku showed Tsukasa clinic (the clinic in which works Deku’s doctor). MHA city has been told being 2 hours by train from Tokyo roughly. This we are extreme close by our main cast ‘s houses. Infact it was said they were born in one or another prefecture , but not which one. Because all students were living in their houses before training camp we can easily supposed that all students have it less than one/two hour by train from ua. So either the main city should be in Shizuoka or in yamanashi, but most likely not in Tokyo special prefecture (because it was said all might agency is in Tokyo, like they aren’t in Tokyo ). Thus if it’s all correct, I think Toga is currently very far from the league and she will take a loooong road to make her appearance again on her mates side. This or Toga will be seen with the main cast.

And last but not least (I swearc the last):nope , AFO doesn’t give a damn of PLF. nor do Shiga nor Dabi. And nor did toga or twice . Maybe spinner and compress were ok with that but... this can be seen throw tiny details (yep I love details!).Shigaraki : after he defeated Re-Destro he had an durala moments and asked “you have money right?” So nope , he didn’t care he just wanted financial stability. Infact if you look at the panel in which hawks meets the PLF attendants you can see that all league is in the right of the table while there’s only one empty chair , at redestro’s right. Symbolically it makes no sense: the leader should be in the centre or his best man should be on the right (the right hand man). I think the seat was empty because the league never lost its identity. They were their own pack, and put redestro, the most annoying one as far as possible , and near “Shigaraki” (who wasn’t there so everyone was happy)- Dabi: he of course couldn’t care less about the PLF. he cares about the league at the very best. He was also the only member wkth toga to share a regiment with Geten. Now , this two aren’t compatible. I think Shigaraki to calm the waters placed toga because she’s a sweetheart (he also sent her to overhaul) and Dabi because he has his own agenda, so he does what he wants. Now , I think Dabi only cared about skeptic. For many reason too long to explain I think Dabi already knew everything about Tomie before Deika. But now with a satellite he could broadcast everything on the national tv. Soooo he never cared (like anything really) but he found something useful- Twice: when hawks entered in the PLF his assignment was speaking destro’s book. Infact he was assigned to Twice regiment but we can see him trying to explain Twice something. Now , hawks read all the book (his coded message) so I guess he was trying to teach Twice what it talked about it. It means twice doesn’t even care about the PLF ‘s ideals.- Toga , Compress and Spinner: they had never express about PLF, but Compress said to love the league not the front , same goes for Spinner. This also makes sense for the regiments: Shiga picked the most adorable villain , who could face even Overhaul without losing her composure (toga) and the one who’s always missing (Dabi). Spinner and compress puts lots of heart in their doings , so I guess sooner or later a conflict would have arisen. But from toga and Dabi? It won’t happen. They are both smart and sly, one is adorable and flexible, the other has a devil may care attitude and he’s always missingShigaraki liked PLF because of his friends. Toga was sad about her torn jacket. In 220 Compress said “if we accepted Overhaul deals we would be eaten sushi by now!” And immediately what their first dinner ? Sushi, liked compress said. I think Shigaraki didn’t have a clue about Touya, but there’s one thing he always did: doing what he wants. Network and recruits was a suit of Dabi, and thus Shiga provided him with new toys and more money. Twice wanted company , and he had. After all Shiga said that he wants to destroy anything but what they likes; they can do what they wants to, and everything is for their sakes.AFO.... he clearly doesn’t care about anything but himself.‘I really disliked , Shigaraki forever. He ditched Toga; as well, he said Compress to “not worry about”. And where is compress now ? Under arrest. Nice. We saw Dabi fixing his own stamples with no aid, so he needs health care but he wasn’t given any (what a overlord of evil, couldn’t he steal a doctor? No healing quirks up to his Darth Vader’s helmet?) and instead what he does ? He puts someone on patrol - most likely Touya himself , but he’s hurt and tired too. I really loved Spinner insight. He’s the closest to Shiga. He can tell AFO isn’t him. Because I really doubt Shigaraki would have ditched two people and leave another one with pain and health issues (as much as he could provide) to check the area. So summing up, the league is the league imo. They are the core. And i reeeeeally hope that their well defined identity in the group will rise to kick AFO from their club.The more I think about ... the more I think that the apple of chaos it’s Toga. She has a twisted but great theme with “love”. She “loves” Izuku, and she “loves” uraraka. She was also the one who questioned Shigaraki who reassured her (they are his allies , they can do what they like). But AFO doesn’t care at all. AFO wants to erased and most likely kill Deku. So it makes sense pulling her out of equation. But when she’ll be back... I don’t know what it might happen. She might be the first to bring a clash maybe ?Plus we have another very interesting detail, now about Tartarus. Which is Kurogiri. In fact police asked Aizawa and Mic to go and see him. Now , If you remember, All Might had that adorable gig with sugar and the students asked about Aizawa. All might said it was an emergency call. Now emergency means “reach a place quickly”. However in chapter 253 we got to see Mic’s car. Now , I’ve been there. You won’t find any car like his in japan. Well , if it’s a Japanese car. I considered it could be an old model (toyota’s had this shape in the 70s 80s, kind of). But the vertical striped makes me think of a dove challenger. Same with the splits on the hood, made to cool down the engine. These are pretty much traits to have dodges in media. Another peculiar thing is the wheel is on the left.This means that while we don’t know we’re Tartarus is exactly , it’s surely near UA , , in a prefecture near the coast. This is because if it were further , Aizawa and Mic would have need to book some train tickets and then reaching the place by car with police or renting. Also, when All might and Aizawa meet the parents in chapter 96, they were driven here and there by someone else (a loft offered by the school). Instead Mic is driving his own American car with the wheel on the left. Most likely they received the call and Mic immediately hop on car with Aizawa. This means that wherever it is , Tartarus is very close to UA, most likely in the same prefecture.Then if we considered how Tartarus is , it can’t be in Tokyo bay ( you can see the other side by sight , while Tartarus is isolated) but I’d place my bets on either Chiba prefecture (where Kirishima and Ashido are from) or Shizuoka (where the main trio and many others are from). That being said, I’d place my odds on Shizuoka because the majority of character are there and because Yaomomo is from Aichi. I took her because people like Kirishima or Mina aren’t that rich and don’t have a massive mansion - their family could have transfer or they can make an effort to go to UA. While I can’t see Yaomomo’s family giving up their house, becuase it’s that big; and aichi shares a border with Shizuoka, while Chiba doesn’t.Basically this to say: probably UA is based in Shizuoka , were also Tartarus and Jakku are. And if this is all correct AFO positively ditched Toga, who’s now in Shizuoka while others are in Niigata. Not so kind of him.

Ahhhh cool! Thanks so much! 

[youarejesting]

Femme: 50 Finale

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader, GDragon x Bigbang, Erik Nam, Hyuna x Dawn, Black Pink x Female oc, TXT x robot oc, Got7 x Female oc Rating: Mature themes mentioned but not really explored. Length: 2.8k Announcement: This is the last chapter. I may have cried writing this piece. Beta: @lpayne612​​

You saw him waiting by the car, eating a donut, and drinking a cold coffee, and you went up to the service counter, “Can I borrow your PA system to tell my husband that he is pregnant?” The man at the counter grinned and handed over the microphone, explaining how to use it.

“Park Jimin,” you said facing the forecourt - grinning watching him lookup, “I took a pregnancy test, we’re pregnant!” 

You saw him drop everything before falling to his knees and crying, covering his head with his hands. “I love you.”

He got up and ran inside dodging cars. People were clapping happily, and he grabbed you, kissing you fiercely, his fingers brushing against your neck, and hooking his thumb under your soft collar.

“We did it, princess!” He sniffed.

“We did!”

“Am I going to finally be a dad?’

“You are.”

“I dropped my coffee!” He laughed, his cheeks glistening.

“One coffee for the father to be,” a man smiled. “I remember when my wife said we were pregnant, it is such a good feeling, so this one is on me”

Driving home his hand was in yours, and he would occasionally bring your hand to his face and kiss your knuckles, whispering how much he loved you. You had explained to him you mistook implantation bleeding with a period because you were stressed and tightly strung with thoughts of letting him down.

He told you that he would never want you to stress and that there was nothing you could do that would ever let him down. “Just you breathing, and in my life, means the world to me.

Jimin came home and received a hug and kiss from all the children, a few crying saying they missed him and he cried back. “Where did you go?”

“Well, DaddyJii had to buy mummy a special drink so she could have a baby,” Jimin smiled at the children.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy Goo told us how mummy has babies in her belly,” Jae Eun said.

“Yeah, he says mummy eats a special fish and then the fish swims around in her belly and changes like a tadpole,” Jae Hwa smiled proudly.

“Yes, well the special drink has the fish in it.” You smiled at them, not ready to explain the birds and the bees just yet - wanting to preserve their innocence  for just a few more years.

“Does it tickle Ama?” Huimang asked, “The fishy in your belly?”

“Sometimes, but the fishy is too small to feel just yet. When the fish turns into a baby, you will be able to feel the baby move in my tummy.”

There was a big family celebration; you made a huge donation to the Femme rehabilitation organization and, honestly, had a really good pregnancy. The number one hashtag as you entered your ninth month was ‘#SugaTheMusicProducerAndBabyInducer’ which made said man pout and avoid you whenever he heard it in mock fear. 

He had written a few songs boasting that any pregnant woman listening to his album may go into labour at the sound of his voice. You went live with your family talking about things and what you all planned to do as a family. 

“We have shared our whole world with you and it has been so long. You, have seen our ups and downs, and we want to continue to show you everything until the end. Just recently, with my struggle with fertility, we realized we don’t want to hide all these natural things from the world.” You grimace at the camera, another cramp taking over. You were secretly timing them so as not to finish the livestream early. 

“We were lucky to fall pregnant, but not everybody gets that chance, so we are so thankful and are giving a donation to the specific fertility group we went through who was absolutely lovely.” You knew that the contractions were slowly getting closer together, but you would rather stay in the comfort of your own home and keep yourself busy with a livestream than going and sitting in a hospital room bored - and uncomfortable - waiting to go into active labour and dilate.

“Someone asked if we will have any more children?” Seokjin was designated to read the comments.

“No, we are already blessed with so many we won’t be greedy. Plus, I’m getting older and there are more chances of complications the older I get, so I do not wish to push the limits of my health. I want to be around for my family for as many years as I can.”

“Have you thought of any names?” Seokjin genuinely seemed interested by this question.

“Many.” You smiled, “We don’t know the gender of our baby, so we haven’t really settled on one - but a few.”

“Have you had any weird cravings?” Jungkook read some comments over the older man's shoulder, and they all began discussing your weird eating habits. 

“Yoongi, if you had to induce a baby what would you do? I am due today, and the baby doesn’t look like they’re coming any time soon.”

“Well, I would lean down and whisper, ‘alright little one, it’s time to get out or you can start paying rent,’” Yoongi laughed at your belly, rubbing it gently.

“No, I am determined to entice my own child out,” Jimin leaned down so he was cupping your belly, his lips almost brushing the fabric of your dress. “Come on now baby, daddy wants to meet you.”

You could laugh at the timing as your water broke, thanking the heavens you were shooting from the waist up. “Did…” Namjoon gasped in shock.

“Did you just pee?” Jungkook shouted

“No my water just broke.” You gripped your tummy, breathing through the pain while trying to stop the laughter.

You had all decided to take the audience with you. It was mostly the camera on the boys and a nervous looking Jimin who was doting on you in the ward. You were having a blast talking and laughing with the audience while Seokjin was texting Erik and Namjoon’s dad, trying to make sure the kids were all fine getting ready for bed.

You were taken up to the VIP labour ward and you were having a great time. Your audience was super supportive, and you said goodbye getting wheeled off to the birthing suite. This labour was the easiest - you were so experienced you knew all the cues, and your body relaxed understanding what you were supposed to do.

A little boy. He was tiny in Jimin’s hands and he kept saying thank you. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity, this miracle who I will cherish everyday, I love you both so much, I love you my princess” 

He held him in his arms as they wheeled you back to the private ward where you met the others. Jimin hadn’t stopped crying and Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi engulfed him in a hug. The live stream was still going on with a million-person audience waiting to see the baby.

“It’s a boy,” Jimin said, “and we both agreed his name would be Byul.” 

You were happy and the boys grinned. You all looked up at the camera and waved, signing off - spending the time alone together. The nurse came in, “We have to check the baby's hearing and heart and take a full screen of his blood. All routine stuff.”

Jimin nodded, taking the baby in his arms and following the nurse. It wasn’t a long process, but when Jimin didn’t come back you started to get worried. You visibly began stressing the blankets. “What is taking so long?” your laugh was forced and there was little semblance of a joke.

“It’s okay, there are other babies. maybe they are waiting on another?”

Jimin stepped in and he was crying holding his son preciously in his hands, as if holding him too tightly could hurt the newborn. “Byul might be deaf, they will have to um, check him again soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“They said it could just be fluid in his ear, but they will check again in a few hours,” Jimin sniffed.

Upon the second third and fourth hearing test, it was almost clear that Byul was partially deaf. He could hear a little, but the doctor explained it would forever be super muffled. That didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize your voices, though. He still could just hear, and you were fine with that - any hearing was a blessing at that point.

You headed home, and Jimin took leave from work. He spent time caring for his son and even signed up for classes on sign language. Everyone went to the classes together and began learning, as it would be easier if you all learnt early.

Byul was not a typical happy baby spending most of his time crying - it was mostly due to the fact he scared easily. Being unable to hear when you were there, Byul would call for you and you would press your lips to his forehead and against his skin so he knew you were there. The vibrations running through his body. 

He loved when you would do this but especially enjoyed Taehyung’s deep rumbling voice, it made him giggle.

He learnt cues differently. Instead of mum and dad, you taught him to touch his cheek in certain ways for these words. He wasn’t a shy baby, but he still only made a few noises. He was quick to learn how to walk and run and play. 

Jeongsan was so good at sign language, he was quick to tell you what byul needed and took it upon himself to help his younger brother where he could. 

You were still learning, and you had a discussion with the boys about your channel and what you should do. It was a mutual agreement that you would make your final broadcast that evening before a hiatus - which you didn’t know when or if you would come back. 

It was a rainy afternoon, and Byul sat on your lap on the back porch, watching the rain and lighting and feeling the thunder shake the sky. 

He laid back in your arms, and you sang to him and signed in front of him to sing along. He tried his best, his voice sweet like his father’s, and you did the signs the whole song. 

His little gold hearing aids helped him out so much, but he sometimes preferred to not wear them, as he didn’t always like the feeling. 

“My son,” you signed with a big bright smile “I love you.”

“Mama love you,” he answered, repeating your gesture as big as he could and you laughed hugging him tightly.

You all had just posted your live stream as a family saying you were going on hiatus. You felt like you wanted to cry, walking towards the kitchen to make yourself a calming cup of tea. When Kyungju asked, “Ate you okay mum?”

Turning, you looked at your family all looking back at you, all your beautiful children smiling at you, and then there were your husbands. 

All looking beautiful. Seokjin still with a gentle smile, Yoongi looking impassive and yet now you could see the emotions in his eyes. Jungkook with the same bunny toothed smile, and thirteen years washed away like you were falling in love with them all over again. They stood in front of you just like they had that day, eyes bright and curious and you smiled. Speaking clearly in English while signing so every member of your family knew what you were saying. 

“I love you.”

Everything was good, until I completed everything ready to post. I attached the last header for the last time and I just sobbed. Saying goodbye to this story is the hardest thing, I have experienced to this day. It was one of my safe havens a world I created to escape all the bad and well it has reached its happy ending. 

Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Ever your Jester.

Femme Media 50

[The End]

Tags: @obeythehemmings​ @delightfuldela​ @zxlla​ @dopefrancistheturd​ @h5naaa​ @topthis808​ @bubbletae7​ @narcissism-iskey​ @gqmf-bangtanmama​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @kthstrawberryshortcake​ @latina-nerd-deactivated20200611​ @domaindopemancom​ @rosita7703​ @knjkitten​ @notruercolors​​ @kpopnonous​​ @ladytaja @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​​ @bluehairedotakugem​​ @moments-of-melancholy​​

[nerdygaymormon]

Maybe you've answered this before, but why don't you just leave your church? Doesn't it bother you being part of something that rejects you? Don't you want love? I don't understand why gay people ever stay in that church.

I get these questions from time to time. Never sure what to make of them. I get that it’s unusual for a gay guy my age to still be part of church. I hope part of this is they like me and want me to be happier. But it also feels like they are looking down on me, idk.

I don’t have a short, simple answer, so strap in, it’s going to be a long ride.

1)   I was a teenager in the 1980’s. It is hard to be gay now, but it was so bad back then. Being gay was shameful. The 80′s was the AIDS crisis, so mostly what I heard about being gay was death. There were no legal protections, society was against us. Actively hostile, bigoted statements were common. My own dad told homophobic jokes to big laughs. Coming out looked like I’d be condemning myself to a terrible life and strip all the good things from me.

Also, with no role models, I was having to work through what it means to be gay. I also did manage to get ahold of a gay porn magazine (this is long before internet was a thing). I was crazy to think I could hide it. I shared a room with three brothers so no privacy. Despite my denials, my parents knew this was mine and they were so upset. My dad now tells me he wishes he sent me to conversion therapy once he learned I had this magazine. Can you imagine?

2)   I grew up believing in this church, which included the terrible things taught about me as a gay person. At age 19 when my bishop challenged me to pray about going on a mission, I instead prayed to know if God could possibly love me (which is really sad that a kid could grow up in church and not know that). I felt love radiate across my body as a voice in my ear said “You are not broken.” That experience sustained me for a long time

3)   I went on a mission in the 1990’s. If you haven’t been on a mission, it’s probably a surprise that it can be a relief. There’s no pressure to date. I could form close bonds with other men, and even though these are non-romantic relationships, they are intensely close.

4)   I was still in the closet when I went to the church schools in Rexburg & Provo. At the end of my first semester, my roommate came on to me and let me feel him up and stuff. I went to sleep thinking maybe the two of us could leave the church, transfer to a different school, say goodbye to my family and we could have a life together. It would be a huge sacrifice for both of us and I thought he felt the same, but the next morning he turned me in to our bishop. I thought I was going to get kicked out of school, be sent home in disgrace, maybe disciplined out of the church, but instead I was put on probation and had to stay the summer in Rexburg. I was heartbroken and swore off love and focused on school. At the end of the summer, to my surprise the bishop made me the elders quorum president.  

That first roommate, we were best friends. He is Bi and decided a life with a woman would be easier, and considering it was the 1990′s, he was correct. He left school a few days later, met a woman and got married. I hate how he ended things, but I don’t blame him for the future he chose for his life.

5)   BYU in Provo was my backup school, and reluctantly it’s where I transferred to. It turned out that I genuinely liked BYU with 2 exceptions, the severe restrictions the Honor Code placed on LGBT students (which was the same as at the Rexburg campus), and the fierceness with which the Honor Code Office sought to enforce those restrictions. Occasionally I’d hear rumors of sting operations they had done to catch gay students. There was this low-level fear always of getting caught whilst a student in Provo. My roommates also expressed their dislike of anything remotely gay. Even though I kept the rules, I didn’t dare tell anyone that I’m gay because the potential cost was high.

While at BYU I had a major faith crisis. I no longer believed a lot of the truth claims of the church, but I wasn’t about to lose all that tuition money. I stuck it out. So not only was I pretending to be straight, I also had to act as though nothing about church bothered me.

6)   The same voice that told me I am not broken would occasionally tell me that it’s okay to pursue relationships. It gave me great hope. I still get that message. Being a good Mormon, I thought this meant that somehow God was going to change the church. In the temple I’d hear that it’s not good for man to be alone and the law of chastity was presented in a way that could include me if I was married to a husband (the temple says no sex except “with your husband or wife to whom you’re legally and lawfully wedded”).

7)   After BYU, I should have come out and gotten on with life, but I didn’t. My first job was working for a Mormon boss. A landlord who is LDS gave me a deal on rent. Coming out seemed like it would disrupt my life in really negative ways. Plus YSA Wards were a source of friends and support network.

8)   In my 30’s I was no longer in YSA wards, and the world was getting better for gay people. The fight for gay marriage was in full swing, and so many of the people in my life were very opposed to it. It bothered me that the church was so opposed and fought gay marriage because in my head, it was a way for me to follow God’s promptings and pursue a relationship.

Being a Mormon is very much an identity. It’s hard to peel off. It’s my social network, it’s what much of family life revolves around, It’s a belief system and way of viewing the world. it’s a map of what one’s goals in life should be, and so on. Staying in the closet kept the rest of my world intact.

I know you’re thinking wtf, you’re a grown man, own your life!!! I grew up in an unstable family situation (we had many financial troubles and moved frequently), so I crave stability. Remaining in the closet and in the church were keys to maintaining that stability.

9)   Squashing all my romantic and sexual feelings also shuts down most other feelings. I spent most of my 20’s & 30’s feeling numb, like I was watching life but not a part of it. I spent those years wishing I was dead, that a bus would hit me or a major disease would strike. Those kinds of deaths would end my misery and also be okay for my family because they wouldn’t have to know I’m gay. I recognize now how messed up that is.

10)   The great source of happiness in those years was being an uncle. I’m the oldest of 7 children, my siblings had lots of babies born in those years. The joys of being an uncle only increased the pressure to stay in the closet and in the church because if I didn’t, my only source of happiness might be taken away.

11)   I finally reached the point where I was tired of going through the motions of having a life. I was ready to come out. Rather than make some grand announcement, I decided to be honest with anyone who asked about my life. When someone tried to set me up with their friend, I would ask if she had a brother. As these sorts of situations came up, I was coming out to people one by one.

I didn’t exactly “come out” to my family. I figured since my parents had found the gay porn mag when I was a teen, and then gay porn malware on the computer when I was college student, they probably already knew (and they did, but were in denial). Also, I thought coming out would be saying I’m not trustworthy and an awful person for having pretended to be something I wasn’t for so long (not true, but that’s how I thought of it).

12)   I’m such a late bloomer that I sometimes am embarrassed about it, especially now that so many people come out in their 20′s and even as teenagers. At the first Pride parade I attended, someone told me that we all come out when it’s right for us, and this was my time. I think that’s true.

13)   Most of my adult life in church was being pianist in Primary. Shortly after I started telling people I’m gay is when I was called to be in the stake young men presidency. My stake president says he looked over at me playing piano one day and thought, “that man has much more to offer.” I wonder if it’s because I was more confident, my identities were less in conflict than they’d been in the past, I wasn’t afraid and hiding.

As stake young men president, I made sure I knew by name and something about every youth in the stake. I wanted them to know they were seen, they were heard, they were loved. Teens go through such hard things and I wanted to be a kind, supportive person in their life. Most youth don’t know who the stake youth leaders are, but they all knew me. Several told me about hard things in their life and some even came out to me. Parents of gay teens would come speak to me and I’d let them know life in church is hard and unfair, ways they could help support their teen, and prepared them that their child’s likely path would be out of the church. I felt like I bloomed in this calling and made a difference.

14)   In 2015 marriage became legal for same-sex couples across the USA due to a Supreme Court ruling. I thought that finally the church would have to come to terms with it and accept it. But then came the November policy banning the children of gay couples from being members. It felt like a punch in the gut and I nearly walked away. I was still stake young men president and weighed whether the difference I made in this calling was worth putting up with how church clearly didn’t want me. 

15)   To help my parents buy a house, I had a bunch of their debt put into my name and I lived in the house with them. At the time it seemed a good way to avoid the loneliness of being on my own. But living with them also made walking away from the church tricky.

16)   A month later I hit the 3-year mark of serving in the stake young men’s program, I was released from that and called to be stake executive secretary. My stake president told me that anyone can make appointments, but he wanted my unique viewpoint in all the highest councils of the stake. In this calling I occasionally meet general authorities and I speak with them about being gay in the church. My stake President recently joked that he has twice been a counselor in a stake presidency and now is a stake president, and in those years he’s met many general authorities, yet I have way more impact on them than he ever has.

17)   Shortly after getting this new calling, in 2016 I started my tumblr blog. Eventually I used the blog as a way to examine, explore and record what it’s like to be gay in the LDS church. In some ways this blog is one giant pep talk to myself.

18)   In 2017 my blog exploded, one of my posts went viral. It’s almost like God got tired of waiting on me, now I was out to everyone who knows me, and many more.

All of a sudden I had so many hurting Mormon LGBT people contacting me, most were teens and twenty-something’s. I’ve tried to help them, to affirm them. In many ways it feels like the years as stake young men president working with teens, the years I spent developing a spiritual independence, the studying & thinking about how being gay can work with the gospel, the fears & worries that are part of being in the closet, all of that prepared me for this.

19)   Later in 2017 my mental health dived. I became suicidal. I started therapy. I finally had to face how harmed I’ve been by my time in church. I also had to admit I will never be enough in this church, I can never reach the goals & purpose of life as laid out by the church,. My therapist helped me see that I need another framework for what a successful life looks like and what would make for a joyful life.

In 2018 I was still in therapy and was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder, which partly explains why coming out and leaving the church were so difficult. The major driving motivation of this disorder is wanting to not disappoint people.

20)   My therapist says I feel things more deeply than most people, but because I’d pushed down my feelings so long, it’s actually a bit scary to feel so much. I also started dating and trying to get gay friends. These sorts of big changes were hard for me. The psychologist said, in an amused tone, that I fully examine a path before I’m willing to take a step down it, meaning I’m cautious and slow to get going, but am certain when I begin of where I’m going.

21)   Some of my family openly embraces me as gay and loves me no matter what. Some make their love and access to their children conditional on my being in church.

22)   I thought 2018 would be the year I leave the church. There’s a personal reason I haven’t; I feel there’s one more thing to do, a friend whom I can help. That I came ahead to pave the way for this friend.

I know this all sounds crazy, talking about a voice telling me it’s okay to have gay relationships or that I have some missions in life to accomplish. That’s part of faith, I guess.

23)   It’s unfair to say I’m still attending church for my friend. First, I don’t want him to feel any pressure. Second, it’s my decision, not his. I also am working on paying off debt so I can more easily live on my own, I’ve joined Affirmation and met a lot of LGBT Mormons/post-Mormons and feel like there’s something of a potential support group/friendships there. I’m thinking of changing jobs, even moving to a different university. In other words, I’m laying the groundwork to make any shift more smooth. Whether I take a breather from church or not, these are good things to do.

24)   I’m in my 40′s and can see that in some important ways I’ve lived a stunted life. But I’m also able to use my voice to speak up for LGBT individuals inside the church, to try to make this little corner of church kinder and more receptive.

25)   I can’t even imagine what you’re thinking of me. A hypocrite, someone who stays with an organization that contributed to my own mental health crisis. Someone too afraid to live. I can’t undo my past and all that lost time. I’ve made a lot of progress and am moving forward. I also believe and hope that things I share on this blog and things I say in my local church help LGBT members.

Maybe you can understand, maybe you can’t, why my life went so differently from yours. I’m certain you won’t agree with a number of decisions I made, but they were mine to make and they explain where I’m at now.

[supernatural-fangirl1967]

With My Life

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Fluff

Word Count: 1,700

Square Filled: Roommate AU

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo2019.

Sighing, you step into the one story house and shut the door behind you. You're hoping to make it to your room before Dean sees you, but you get to your door when you hear his voice behind you.

"Is there a reason you're acting like you're sneaking in?"

"I just want to be alone for a while," you tell him.

"Those bruises on your arms have anything to do with it?"

"Dean..."

"Come on, (Y/N). We've been friends practically or whole lives. You can talk to me."

"Dean, we share the rent, not personal lives." Without another word, you walk into your room and shut the door beind you. You barely make it two feet before the door opens again.

"Dean," you groan as you flop down onto your bed.

"I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what's going on," Dean tells you. "You've come home with new bruises almost every night this week. Who's been doing this to you?"

"Dean..."

"Is is that new guy you've been going out with? The one you never talk about?"

"Dean..."

"It is, isn't it?" Dean says, your silence being his answer. "I knew something was up when you came home crying the other night. (Y/N), why do you want to be with someone who treats you like crap?"

"I don't want to," you say softly as you stare down at the floor.

"What do you mean you don't want to?" Dean asks. "You have a choice, you know. It's not like... Wait a minute, did he threaten you?"

"Dean..."

"He did," Dean says, looking like he's about to punch something.

"Why do you care?" you ask Dean as you look up at him. "I mean, I know it's like you said, we've been friends forever. But why are you so protective?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but he knows that what he's getting ready to say might make it worse. "Okay," Dean sighs as he starts back over to your door. "If you want me to back off, I will."

"Thank you," you tell him.

"Just know that I'm here if you need me," Dean says before shutting the door, leaving you alone. ~~~~~~

Dean paces back and forth in the living room, waiting for you to get home. You were supposed to be back around ten, and it's now nearing midnight. He knows you asked him to back off, but he can't just sit by and...

"Forget it," Dean says, grabbing his car keys and starting out of the house. He heads downtown first, knowing you mentioned something about it when you were leaving. He's just about to give up and try calling you again when he sees you being pinned up against the side of a building by some blond idiot. Dean slams on the brakes right there in the middle of the road and gets out of the car.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yells as he takes off running towards you. The guy shoves you down onto the sidewalk before starting over to his car. Dean catches up to him, getting in a good punch before grabbing him by the collar.

"You ever come near her again, I will end you," Dean threatens before pushing the guy towards his car and turning around. "(Y/N)!" Dean says as he runs over to you.

"I'm fine," you say quickly as Dean kneels down beside of you on the pavement. Dean has a murderous look in his eyes as he watches the car drive out of sight, and you reach up to grab his arm. "I'm okay, Dean," you tell him.

"Come on," Dean says as he looks down at you, his heart breaking when he sees tears gathering in your eyes. "Let's get you home and cleaned up, okay?"

You nod your head, and Dean helps you up off the ground. Once you get home, Dean leads you inside and to the couch before heading off to the bathroom. He comes back carrying a wash rag and a first aid kit, taking his place beside of you on the couch.

"Dean..."

"Shh," he says as he begins cleaning up the gash above your right eye.

"I should've listened to you."

"Stop."

"Dean, if you hadn't been there..."

Dean leans forward and presses his lips against yours. Your body goes rigid for a moment before relaxing into the kiss. When Dean pulls back, he quickly goes back to bandaging you up, but your heart keeps racing. You keep your eyes glued to the floor as Dean works. When he finally gets done, he gives you a once over to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"You should get some rest," Dean says before disappearing into his own room. You decide to get up and go to bed, hoping you'll go right to sleep, but tonight's events prove to be too much, and you finally let the tears spill.

It's not just the fear, but the shock and confusion too. Why did Dean kiss you and then act like it didn't even happen? Did he do it just to shut you up? Did he mean something by it?

"Sweetheart?" Dean says quietly as he cracks your bedroom door open a bit and sticks his head in. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," you reply, trying to hide the emotion in your voice and failing terribly.

"Can we talk?"

You sit up in bed, and Dean walks over to sit down at the edge.

"I appreciate you trying to look out for me," you tell Dean.

"I kinda take it as my personal job," Dean says as he shrugs his shoulders. "You know, being your lifetime friend and all."

You smile a bit, but it quickly fades as new tears fight to fall. Dean moves a bit close to you before reaching over to wipe away your tears with his thumbs.

"I feel like an idiot."

"Trust me," Dean tells you. "You're not the idiot here, (Y/N). I just wish you knew that I'd kept you safe against any threats."

"He didn't threaten me," you say so softly that Dean almost doesn't hear.

"Then why..."

"He didn't threaten me," you say again. "He threatened you."

Dean's eyes widen. "Sweetheart, I can take care of myself," he tells you, his heart breaking at the thought of you being hurt for his sake. "Why would you let someone treat you like that to keep me safe?"

"Doesn't matter," you mumble.

"Of coure it matters, (Y/N)," Dean tells you.

"Are we going to talk about what happened while ago, or are you just going to keep ignoring it?" you ask Dean, trying to change the subject.

He swallows hard, but keeps his eyes locked with yours as he speaks. "I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart, I got a little upset with you when it seemed like you were ignoring my warning. I was trying to keep you safe, and I couldn't understand why you couldn't see that. Then I realized something. I wasn't just being protective, (Y/N). I was... I was maybe a little... jealous."

"So you didn't kiss me just to shut me up?" you ask.

Dean shakes his head, suddenly becoming interested in a random spot on the comforter. When his eyes finally meets yours again, you can tell just how serious he's being.

"When you didn't come home, and then I saw you..." Dean shakes his head, not wanting to make you relive it. "It terrified me. I was just so relieved that you were home and finally safe that I... I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, (Y/N). I didn't mean to make you feel like I was forcing you into anything. I hope you know that I would never do that to you."

"I know," you say softly. "Dean, I risked myself for you because... I wished they were you." Dean raises an eyebrow at you. "Every guy I've gone out with here lately, I've wished they were you. Dean, you treat me like I'm a person. You've always been so protective of me, but here lately I've wanted it to mean something more than just a friend looking out for another friend. I was afraid to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we already have."

"Hey," Dean says as he presses his forehead against yours. "If you're willing to give this a shot, then I'm already yours, sweetheart."

You smile a bit, deciding to take a leap of faith and lean in closer. "I guess you're mine then," you say softly right before your lips meet Dean's for the second time tonight. One of his hands come up to cup your face, while his free hand seeks out your own. He tangles his fingers with yours before pulling back to catch a much needed breath.

"If something happens..."

"Hey," Dean says, holding a pinkie up. "We'll always be best friends."

You playfully roll your eyes. "What are we? Five?"

"Just go with it."

You shake your head before hooking your pinkie with Dean's, and bursting out laughing just seconds later.

"It's good to see you happy," Dean tells you.

"Well, you make me happy," you reply.

Dean leans his forehead against yours and smiles. "I love you."

Your heart starts racing again, and you take a deep breath. "I love you too, Dean."

"And don't you worry about that idiot," Dean tells you. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

Dean kisses the tip of your nose before moving to stand, but you quickly stop him.

"You can stay in here tonight, if you want," you say hesitantly. Dean smiles widely before laying down beside of you on the bed and wrapping an arm around you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He starts laughing, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Dean says as he shakes his head. "It's just... We went from sharing the rent, to sharing a bed."

"Dean," you giggle as you lay your head over onto his chest.

He laughs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Get some rest, sweetheart."

[trash-bag-of-stuff]

Potential - Chapter 1

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Word count: 2431

___

After the death of my parents, I was forced to live by myself on the streets. I could have stayed at the ruined house and waited for the police, but they would have just put me into foster care or an orphanage, and who knows what that would’ve brought. It was easier to go it alone, relying on stealing from the bins outside restaurants and the local soup kitchen. It wasn’t a comfortable life, but at least it was a life.

On that particular night, I was almost ready to pass out from exhaustion. My temporary hideout was an abandoned warehouse on the edges of the city, but the owner had finally decided to do something useful with it and rent it out. When I heard the trucks arrive outside, I grabbed what few possessions I had and ran until I was far enough away to be sure they wouldn’t find me or realise that I’d been living there for the past two months. Being the anxious boy that I was, I was always prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. After walking for about an hour, I was completely and utterly lost.

Tired, hungry, and scared, I started to check my belongings in an effort to calm down. Water bottle, extra socks for warmth, a sheet of cardboard I was using as a bed, and… nothing more. That was my breaking point. I was really and truly homeless. The tears that I’d been holding back since the fire that took everything started to flow. Choking sobs wracked my body as I staggered into an alley to hide from the world, only it wasn’t as empty as I’d hoped. A child, looking to be about my age was standing there, digging through a pile of scrap metal and disposed electronics. And they were staring right at me.

“Who are you?” they asked. I didn’t answer. “I don’t bite you know,” they said, with a hint of a smile.

“How do I know that?” I replied with as much dignity possible with tears streaming down your face. That earned me a shadow of a giggle .

“The name’s Robin. Nice to meet you.” They extended their hand. I stared at it as though it had teeth, but reluctantly reached out to shake it, but didn’t give my name. “No answer? That’s not fair.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you my name!” The loud outburst made me flinch. “A name for a name.”

“No.”

“Well if you won’t tell me your name, then at least tell me what happened.” Robin said as he gestured to North's missing arm.

“Why should I tell you?” I wasn’t too excited to share his life story with a complete stranger.

“Here’s an idea,” they paused to make sure I was listening, “we can discuss it over dinner. My brother's home, he can cook really well.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Do you always ask so many questions? Just help me take some of this stuff back to the apartment.”

It seemed too good to be true. Dinner and the possibility of a friend? And for the cost of carrying a few scraps? I smiled back.

“My name’s North.”

  “How do you afford this place?” Robin’s apartment, well technically it was their brother’s, was huge.

“Family privilege,” Alex said matter-of-factly. Before I could ask any more questions, a plate of steaming cottage pie was placed in front of me. It took all of my self-control not to just dig in with my hands. It had been so long since I’d had a warm meal, seated at a table in a proper house.

“Go ahead. Dig in.” I didn’t have to be told twice. After barely getting enough food to survive and going to bed hungry almost every night, I was starving. I had seconds but was too scared to ask for thirds even though I could have finished another helping easily. I was glad that I hadn’t eaten more though when Alex brought out three small servings of creme brulé. We ate in silence, only the clinks of our spoons against the glass could be heard.

“Thank you. That was incredible.” I wasn’t sure just how casual I could be around these two who had welcomed me into their home so readily, so I stuck with being polite.

“It’s his Talent,” said Robin, almost bouncing in their chair. “He’s a chef at The Gardens.”

His Talent? That meant that he was rich enough to have it unlocked. And working at The Gardens, one of the most expensive hotels in the entire city? That means his Potential was probably really high and his Talent was strong, so it probably ran in the family. I was dealing with a rich and powerful family. What would they say when they heard my story? Probably kick me straight back into the streets. After all, who would ever want to be associated with a reject?

“I held up my end of the agreement. Now it’s your turn. What’s your story?”

Fear started to fill my head like a thick fog, but I would never go back on a promise. My mouth had dried up and my tongue felt too heavy to speak so all I did was turn around and lift up my shirt to show the dreaded scar.

“Wow.” The response was so quiet, I wasn’t sure I had even heard it. The silence that followed was deafening, pounding on my ears until I couldn’t take it. Mumbling a quick “Thank you again. I’m sorry,” I started for the door.

“North! Wait!” A hand grabbed at my wrist. “Where are you going?” It was Robin. They looked so confused. Why? Surely, they didn’t want to be in my company any longer.

“You know who – what – I am now. So, I’m leaving.”

“What? Why are you leaving just because we know? If anything, that makes me want you to stay. I’ve never met anyone with-”

“That’s why! Every time someone finds out it's pity that keeps them there until they get sick of me!” At this, I started to cry again, which only fuelled my desperation to leave.

“It isn’t that. You just seemed… scared. And we used to be scared too,” said Robin, gesturing to their brother and themself. “After our parents disappeared, we didn’t know what to do. But we got some help and now look at this place! It was falling apart the first few months. But with that little bit of help, look what we managed to do.”

“I think he’s trying to invite you to stay with us,” said Alex. He’d been silent until then. I looked at Robin, then Alex, then Robin, then Alex then settled on Robin.

“You’d really do that?”

“Of course. I don’t want anyone else to go through that. But you look like you’ve already gone through that and more. We have a spare bedroom, come let me show you.”

  Living with Robin and Alex was probably the best thing to ever happen to me. Online schooling, good meals every night, a comfortable bed, and a best friend. Having all of this for free was great, it really was, but it caused some serious guilt on my part. What did I do to deserve all of this? So as soon as I turned 18, he moved out, into a much cheaper, much smaller, much worse-smelling apartment. Being the people that they were, Robin and Alex gave me a very generous amount of money, enough to go to college and finally pursue the one thing I was good at: mechanical engineering. Remember those pieces of scrap metal and discarded electronics that I helped Robin take back to the apartment? Well I found them intriguing and fiddled with them for a while. I was pretty good for someone without a Talent and that was enough to pique my interest. Life wasn’t as easy as it was with Robin and Alex, but it was good. I took mechanical engineering at university, hoping that it would be enough to get me a good job.

In my first year I met Jacy. We bumped into each other at a party that we’d both been invited to. On that particular night, I would have much rather stayed home, but I didn’t want to decline the invitation and possibly lose a new friend. Not knowing anyone at the party and not being the type of person to go around and make friends, I was standing on the edge of the noisy crowd, fiddling with a gadget I had been working on. It was supposed to enhance the wearers hearing. The longer the party went on, the more people arrived. The crowd was quickly becoming overwhelming and my hand started to shake so badly that I dropped my gadget. Scrambling to rescue it before it was crushed by the storm of feet, I had the bad luck of crashing into someone and knocking them over.

“I’m so sorry, this was my fault, I'll just-” The girl I had knocked over didn’t actually look all that startled. In fact, she was smiling. No, laughing. And she instantly put me at ease. Her hair was in little braids that were sticking up all over the place. Each of them had four beads in them, one black, one white, one grey, and one purple.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m pretty clumsy myself. What were you doing on the floor anyway?”

“I just dropped something I was working on…”

“What does it look like? I’ll help you find it. The name's Jacy.”

With a smile, I replied: “North.”

After finding the boosted hearing-aid, Jacy and I left to go walk outside, away from the pounding music and flashing lights. We talked for a good few hours. I found out that she was studying neuroscience and that her Talent was calming. It really helped for making new friends since anyone she met was instantly put at ease. This also allowed me to open up to her about my past pretty easily. As soon as she realised that I really was good with mechanics and electronics, she brought up an idea that she’d had. By combining our knowledge of neuroscience and mechanics, we might be able to build me a new arm.

A year of working and research lead to something that I hadn’t had since I was three years old: a fully functional left arm. I would meet up with Jacy every week for check-ups. After we were sure that everything was going smoothly, it turned into monthly check-ups and then no check-ups at all. We still stayed friends but now it was just that, no longer doctor and patient.

  I was doing well in my classes, I had made some new friends, I had a new arm and I had my own apartment. Life was good. Until the money ran out. Three years into university, I was forced to drop out since I was no longer able to afford it. Robin and Alex offered to lend me more money but time after time I declined. In order to keep my apartment, I needed a job. A barista at the coffee store around the corner from my apartment wasn’t exactly my dream job but it payed the bills. Almost. I needed a bit more money which lead to a new idea: I could make gadgets and sell them. The first week I only sold two things, both of them small mechanical animals, so I focused my efforts on what sold. Using some of my pay from my job I bought scrap metal and wires. Sales were getting better every week. It went from two sales a week to twenty.

All of this tinkering was taking up a huge part of my life, so much so that it was affecting my job at the coffee shop. I knew that I got three warnings until I was fired and so far, there had been two. Staying up late to finish an order caused me to sleep through my alarm the next day so I was late for work. Strike one. Then I was trying to finish up an  order behind the counter. Unfortunately, it started smoking and an alarm went off, so everyone had to evacuate. Strike two. You’d think I'd learnt my lesson about trying to work on projects during my shift, wouldn’t you, but this one was special. It was a complicated order and it was due in the next few days. A crane (the bird, not the machine) that would move just like the real thing. It would be solar powered of course, and when there was no longer any sun to power it, it curled up and “slept”. It wasn’t quite pocket sized, but it was only a little bit bigger. The buyer had offered a handsome sum of money for it but had one condition: I had to deliver it myself. Something about “the media invading his privacy”?

“North! What are you doing!” I had gone around back to work out the few last details so that I could deliver it straight after M shift ended. And my boss had found me.

“C'mon Jackie, this order is due today and my shift is almost over anyway!” I knew she wouldn’t let it slide but it was worth a shot.

“You know the rules. Three strikes and you’re out. You’re out.”

“One more chance please I’ll-”

“No exceptions.”

  “It isn’t fair. Just because I haven’t had my Potential unlocked, doesn’t mean it should be this difficult to get a job.” It’s been a week since I was fired. I called Robin to talk to them about the situation.

“I know it might seem difficult but look at me!” they say. “I struggled to find a job for two months and then I found this one. Which is way better than my previous one anyway.”

“Nuh uh, you don’t get to talk. You have a Talent. You have connections. And even with all of that it still took two months. Without any of that, I’ll be lucky to find a decent job in six months!” The awkward silence after my mini outburst gives me a moment to think. Then it dawned on me.

“Hey, I’ll call you back later,” I say, obviously distracted.

“Wait but-“

I end the call before they can finish their sentence. People don’t like change. If you don’t speak up, they ignore you. They walk all over you. But there was a simple was to get their attention. Wreak absolute fucking havoc.

Tag list:

@nice-jewish-lesbian

@just-a-marvel-fan

@your-villainous-neighbour

@floor-based

@the-spiritual-bisexual

[linoholic]

Poly!ShowHeon

Requested: @rads-savage asked: Love your readings!! ♥ Can I request a poly!au Shownu and Jooheon?

Pairing: Monsta X Shownu x Jooheon x Reader 

Genre: poly!au, roommate!au

Warnings: drinking

I feel like you have been waiting forever and I am so sorry about that and everyone else waiting for a request but they are being done...very slowly

Also, is that their ship name? Because I am not 100% sure at all.

Sitting in your living room, you scrolled through the internet

You lived in a very nice apartment on the sixth floor of the building

It had three bedrooms, a spacious kitchen and living room and big windows with lots of natural light being let in

And your landlord had just raised the rent, which meant that you had to find a roommate if you wanted to stay there, as there was no way you would be able to pay for the place yourself after your previous roommate moved out

You didn't want to leave either, as not only was it a nice flat but it was in a nice neighbourhood with nice neighbours, and only ten minutes from your job

However, you were having no luck on the internet, and so giving up for the day, you leave your flat and trudge up one flight, knocking on a door

Ten minutes later finds you sitting at your good friends table, head in the palm of your hands and a pout on your face as you watch him bustle around his kitchen

 "Say, you don't have any mates that need a place to live do you Kihyun?"

"Now you mention it, Jooheon mentioned something about wanting to move away from his psycho neighbour, and Shownu might be open to the idea because his plumbing keeps breaking. I can ask them if you want. "

 "You, sir, are a lifesaver," you say, hope beginning to spark in your eyes

 Kihyun laughs, mentioning for you to get up

 "Now if you've stopped moping, come and help me. There's carrots that need cutting with your name on."

 And true to his word, Kihyun does talk to the two; and much to your pleasure they both agree to meet with you

So one weekend, Kihyun invited you to join him and his friends for drinks and karaoke so he can introduce you to them

You and Kihyun are the first two to arrive, and he introduces you to his other friends as they arrive, with you exchanging a high five with Changkyun (who you have previously met)

The last two to get their are Shownu and Jooheon

As soon as they walk in, Kihyun pushes you over to them

 "Shownu, Jooheon, this is y/n. Y/n, Shownu and Jooheon. Play nice," he says before scurrying off to gossip with Hyungwonho

You make some small talk, drink some drinks and by the time you get to the karaoke place the you are joking around like you have known them for ages and you have a time and date set for them to move in with you

All in all, finding a roommate or two was a huge success

And you know that if Kihyun is friends with them then they will be alright, if a bit crazy because none of the man's friend group are exactly normal as you very well know by what he has told you

And it turns out he was right

A month had passed since they moved in and it couldn't be more perfect

The two of them were some of the most considerate people you had ever met

Jooheon had turned his bedroom into a mini studio, but despite that he always made sure to check that you weren't sleeping or trying to concentrate before he even thought about playing any music on the lowest volume without headphones

And Shownu, or Hyunwoo as you came to call him, never let you carry anything up the six flights to you place, lift or stairs he would be ther e to carry the groceries for you

Cooking wasn't a common occurrence in the apartment, either you were all too busy or too tired to do so

Instead you either ordered in or mooched off of Kihyun above you

But when you did, the two always helped you out

Both of them always acted so dramatic

If oil spits even the tiniest bit you can bet that Jooheon will let out a squeal or two and Hyunwoo will shield your body with his, you just rolling your eyes and chuckling

In the evenings or on weekends when none of you feel like doing much, you will all congregate to the living room, just sitting around and doing your own thing, every now and then getting the others opinions on something or have a break to tell jokes or watch an episode of that drama which has you all shedding tears despite how much you all try to hide it

You also watch movies together occasionally

You made the mistake of choosing a horror movie one time

While you and Hyunwoo were relatively unfazed, Jooheon was between you both practically hiding behind you, jumping every time someone so much as breathed

That very same night he dragged you and Hyunwoo around with him, refusing to go anywhere in the apartment alone

He even made you sleep in his bed with him, something neither of you could refuse after he brought out the puppy dog eyes

You'll never admit it but you enjoying snuggling something other than your duvet

All of you are pretty good with chores, sharing them evenly and doing them on time

You usually end up doing the laundry, which ends up being your reasoning to stealing their clothes all the time

Because between them they own so many hoodies, how can you resist taking them?

You are usually the first one to wake up between you all, so you often end up making coffee for them both to find when they wake up, something Jooheon is especially appreciative of after a late night making music

Living in an apartment with two other people the chances are that you will all see each other naked at least once

Which is definitely true in your case

There was one time where you and Jooheon were sat in the living room just chatting when suddenly Hyunwoo walked past, water droplets running down his body which was covered with a mere towell

His ears were red as he explained that he forgot his clothes, quickly running off to his room, leaving you and Jooheon staring at the place he just vacated in a daze, jaws dropped open

There was also the time where Jooheon was in the shower when he suddenly screamed, causing you and Hyunwoo to go running to his aid expecting the worst

Only to find him covering his bits with one hand and pointing at a huge but with the other which Hyunwoo quickly disposed of as you stand there laughing, before being pushed out by a blushing Jooheon

Speaking of which, Hyunwoo is the persons that deals with all the bugs and spiders

Jooheon won't go near them

If you threatened to kick him out if he didn't kill that spider, he would be packing his bags and moving to Switzerland before you could finish your sentence (you would never do that of course, you like living with him too much)

Ride outside your apartment block is a play area; with basketball courts and a playground for the younger kids

During the summer the three of you often spend time down their with the children of the apartment block

Jooheon runs around playing with the kids, joining them in begging their parents for ice cream and showing only the cutest awful

Hyunwoo is often utilised as a climbing frame, thrilling the kids when he easily picks them up and lifts them in the air

Sometimes you all join the teens and young adults in playing basketball

It is during one of these sessions where you become aware of your feelings for the two

You are sitting on the bench on the side court talking with one of the kids mothers while the two boys play ball with some others

Hyunwoo moves up behind Jooheon, putting his arms around the younger bringing him into a back hug, and you find yourself staring at the two, a sort smile on your face

The woman next two in turn smiles softly at you

 "You are so lucky to have two boyfriends like them. And two such great looking guys too!" She smirks, nudging your shoulder as she bounces her baby in her lap

You turn to her in shock, rapidly shaking your head

 "Oh no. We're not, I mean, they're just my roommates "

 "Together or not, your feelings are pretty clear though. I used to look at someone like that, like she was the best thing to happen to me"

 "What happened? "

 "We got married and she gave me this little one, so I would say it turned out pretty well, " she grins, indicating to her son in her lap before passing him over to you

Taking the boy in your arms, you laugh as he plays with your hands, grabbing one of you fingers in his first

 "And it looks like I was also right in thinking they looked at you the same way too"

 At her words, you glance up at the people in question, sending a smile their way as you see them looking in your direction

 "Maybe..." is all you say before shaking your head and going back to playing with the baby, the woman's words drifting around in the back of your mind

On the other side of the court, Jooheon and Hyunwoo were having a similar conversation

The two were standing on the side of the court, watching and laughing as a kid called Guanlin ran circles around a pouting Changkyun

Hyunwoo wrapped his arms around Jooheon when Kihyun came up to the two

 "My my don't we look cosy," he grins " anyone would think you two are totally gay for each other the way you act sometimes"

The two boys blush slightly at this, though Hyunwoo doesn't make any move to let to of Jooheon, who is about to open his mouth in rebuttal when Kihyun cuts in

 "Yeah yeah, I know you two have already talked it out. I just wanted to tell you that a certain someone keeps looking this way like you two are the most precious things ever. And that they look on so adorable with babies," he says, giving a pointed look towards you on the bench

 Automatically, their heads turn to look at you and Kihyun snorts at the hearts in their eyes

 "How can a person he so cute?" Jooheon mutters, Hyunwoo nodding in agreement

 As you look up and smile at them, they look away with red cheeks and Kihyun just shakes his head, walking away while muttering "hopeless"

You see, a week before, a sleep deprived Jooheon had accidentally confessed to Hyunwoo, immediately waking up completely as he registered his own words

The two of them sit in shock for a moment, before Hyunwoo sits Jooheon down and the two talk

And during this talk it comes out that not only are Jooheons feelings reciprocated, but they also fancy the pants off of you as well

In a panic they end up knocking on Kihyuns door at one in the morning, doing for advice on what to do

His advice is to "grow balls and ask them out. You're all already basically dating" before he pushes them out the door moaning about how his beauty sleep is now ruined

Another week passes, and you start to notice the two men being more touchy feely with each other

You will walk in the living room and catch them snuggled on the couch, Jooheon tucked under his hyungs shoulder before they quickly scoot apart upon noticing your presence

Or Hyunwoos hands will linger a second to long on Jooheons hips as he squeezes past him

They also shut themselves up together in his room for hours on end, your imagination going wild at thinking I the things they could be doing

Upon noticing this, you can't help but feel slightly disheartened

You are now fully aware of you own feelings for the two, and so thinking that they like each other and not you is a little upsetting for you

You had basically given up on the idea that they may like you, despite what the woman thought

After all, they didn't treat you the way they treated eachother, and the sort looks they sent each other you never saw directed your way

Despite the heartbreak you are feeling, you still act the same happy to lucky person around them though

Because if they are happy with each other, then you are happy for them and you don't want to ruin the atmosphere, or make them feel uncomfortable at all

Once again, it is Kihyun who has to put up with it all

One evening you end up in his apartment on his couch, pouring out your woes over a glass of wine

One glass turns to two

Two to three

Until the whole bottle has been finished, mostly by you, and you are on the verge of falling asleep, tired after drunkenly crying out your worries

Suddenly there is a knock at the door, and Kihyun moves out of view to answer it before coming back

The figure that comes into your line of sight however, is much more built than Kihyuns smaller one

And the next thing you know, you are being carried down one flight of stairs and into your own apartment, placed gently into your bed and tucked in

The last thing you see before you pass out are two worried faces leaning down and placing kisses on your forehead

The next morning you wake up with a banging headache and a dry mouth

Chucking the covers off of your body, you swing your legs round and are about to stand up when something catches your eye

On your side table is a tall glass of water and painkillers

You smile slightly as you reach over to them, making a mental note to thank your roomies 

Running a hand through your hair, doing your best to tame it, you trudge out of your bedroom and into a completely silent flat

You take a moment to wonder where everyone is before remembering that Hyunwoo has a gym date with Hoseok and that Jooheon has work until the evening

Thanking the heavens that the two won't see you in your post hangover state, you meander about, taking the time to have a long shower and lounge around watching your favourite movies

It is late in the evening when your roommates get back

Upon seeing you, the two share a look before separating, Hyunwoo to the bathroom and Jooheon to his room

You sink down into the couch cushions in slight sorry and disappointment when they only mutter out hellos to you

What you don't know, however, is the fact that they are both basically trembling with nervousness

The whole week they have spent planning on how to confess to you, and now that the time has come, both of them are worried out of their minds

After all, if it goes wrong and you reject them, then it's possible you will kick them out and they will be without a place to live (even though they are both sure you would never do that to anyone)

But still, they decide to go through with their plan

Freshly showered and dressed, Hyunwoo goes to sit beside you on the couch at the exact same time as Jooheon comes out of his room and sits on the other side of you, placing his laptop and a pair of headphones in your lap

Looking at them in confusion, you can't help but notice the nerves in their eyes

But still, as Jooheon places the headphones over your ears and presses a button on the keyboard, you sit patiently, waiting to see what is up

Your confusion makes way for shock as a melody starts to play in your ears and the familiar sound of Jooheons voice can be heard rapping

You then turn to Hyunwoo in surprise as you hear his voice not knowing that he could sing so well

You can't help but listen closely to the lyrics, in awe of the boys songwriting skills, until some lines in particular catch your attention 

The wording starts sounding very specific, so specific that it stays to sound like...they might be singing about you....t

As it comes to an end, you pull off the headphones, looking between them with your mouth hanging open

 "Is this...did you....write this for me?"

 with their ears burning red, they nod 

 "Both of us really, really like you, and we've talked about it and we wanted to know if you wanted to go out with us. Both of us. Like a poly relationship."

 You sit completely still for a moment, replaying Jooheons words in your head and you slowly start to nod, the for see if your lips curling upwards

Never before have you seen Hyunwoo smile so wide or Jooheons dimples so deep as they do the moment you say yes to being in a relationship with them

From that point on, well, let's just say that three bedrooms aren't necessarily needed

I apologise for this. I find these two in particular so hard to write for, especially since I have major cramps right now.

[landprince]

How about 26 from the ask meme? "Tending an injury". Riku has been telling Sora off for being reckless about 156 times, but then ends up being the one who gets hurt. Sora is there for him, but can't help but be smug about it ^_^

Sweet Affectionate Moments Meme

Send me a NUMBER & PAIRING and I’ll write a little something.

Tending an injury

Thanks for requesting something! I’d like to add that speedsketch also requested this number as well. I hope you both enjoy it.

When you have a rather ill husband, a person tends to become rather overprotective in some ways over them.

Riku fussed sometimes, he would admit it with only a slight bit of hesitation and frowning, but it really was in his new spouse’s best interest. Sora was quickly becoming a rather good friend, and he would hate to see the man suffer from anything he could prevent. He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. Helping and healing was the one thing he wanted to do more than anything in the world. What kind of person would he be if he didn’t give it his all to help someone?

While he didn’t outright coddle Sora, he was more attentive than perhaps a normal person would be to what was basically a complete stranger scarcely a month prior. It was a little awkward at first getting used to one another, but slowly they were becoming friends and able to coexist in the apartment with few complaints.

Their newfound relationship was finally budding into a comfortable territory several weeks after Sora moved into the spare bedroom of Riku’s apartment. Riku now looked forward to coming home after his shifts at the hospital to a smiling, familiar face and pleasant dinner conversation or a movie on the couch before calling it a night.

Sora, he was quickly learning, was a refreshing breeze of energy Riku found he had been missing for quite a long time. The younger man’s happiness and bright energy was almost infectious and helped ease the stress of the workday away with little more than a ‘how was your day?’

While Sora was waiting on a heart transplant, he did as much as he could in the apartment that Riku would allow to pay for his share of rent between jobs. It must have been hard, in Riku’s opinion, to go from self sufficient to barely able to do anything for worry about dying from heart failure over too much exertion.

Riku tried his best to avoid putting strain on Sora as much as possible, but still allowed him free reign over care of the apartment while the other man was out of work and pretty much unable to do anything else. Sora seemed to perk up a bit more after his first week after he confronted Riku about his feeling of uselessness soon after moving in. Being able to actually do anything helped his mood tremendously and the small, insignificant spats the two had been having stopped almost immediately.

However, tonight was going to hopefully be a special one. This was one of the first times Sora had given up making dinner since the first night he arrived here, and Riku was trying to impress the younger man with his culinary skills for the first time. He wasn’t a dazzling cook, he just followed recipes as they were instructed online, but he figured that was better than ordering out.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Sora asked from his perch on a nearby countertop. His feet kicked the air gently as he watched Riku as his asked the question for the dozenth time. He had been pestering Riku since the surgeon got home and began to make plans for their dinner.

Riku smiled, not even stopping while he cut the onions as he looked up at Sora. The brunet had his head turned slightly and a pout on his face, looking at the tablet in front of Riku with some cook going step-by-step in a recipe Riku was following on screen.

While he knew Sora was just restless from not doing anything and earning his keep, he didn’t want all the burden of the apartment to go on him. Riku was slowly taking more and more hours less from work to be able to come home and provide Sora some company while he was living with him.

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Riku said casually. It was the truth. He just wanted to be nice towards the younger man and make it seem like he appreciated all the work he had done for the apartment while living together.

Pausing in his prep work, Riku grinned up at Sora. “You know, like a good husband does.”

The brunet became flustered after that, a flush of scarlet taking over his cheeks at those words and he tell out a snort of air while turning away and spinning the wedding ring on his finger. It was a habit Riku noticed Sora had picked up after he slid the ring there a few weeks prior. Whenever Sora was flustered or nervous, he twisted the ring until the nerves dissipated.

They were still getting used to saying the word husband more frequently and at times it made both of them bashful. While the physical affection line hadn’t been crossed outside of necessity in public places, or with the insurance agents who were assigned to review Sora getting on Riku’s healthcare, touch outside of that was kept to a minimum.

“Yeah,” Sora agreed and turned to look Riku in the eyes once more. His gaze was clear and bright, the prettiest blue Riku had ever seen before and for a moment Riku was held captivated by Sora’s unusually intense gaze as he leaned into Riku’s space slightly to continue on. “But a good husband also let’s his spouse help him.”

Riku swallowed, mouth suddenly dry and tongue too much for his mouth. He would be lying if he couldn’t admit even privately that Sora had been causing some confusing feelings as of late. Whenever the brunet allowed his voice to deepen and he started to close in on Riku’s personal space did the surgeon start to realize his heart would race and his stomach would flip and tie itself in knots.

Nodding mutely, Riku wasn’t paying attention outside of those sun freckles that dotted across Sora’s nose and cheekbones, and suddenly felt a sharp sting of pain in his hand. Hissing at the sudden ache, he tore his eyes from Sora’s face to find the onions now covered in a splash of blood and a deep gash in his index finger from the knife he had forgotten about.

“Damn,” Riku ground out, dropping the knife on the counter and floundering around for a towel or cloth of some sort to press against the wound. The onions would need to be chopped again, but before he could contaminate anything else he had prepped he wrapped a dishcloth shoved into his hands.

“Are you alright? Is it bad?” Sora asked, voice going higher in his worry as he waited to inspect the wound after the bleeding had stopped.

Riku was holding firm pressure against the cut and grumbling quietly under his breath as the pain started to subside. It had hurt like something fierce, but he’d also had much worse injuries happen.

“I’ll be fine, just hand me the first aid kit?” He made a motion with his arms to the cabinet over the fridge. Sora quickly obliged, grabbing a chair to climb onto so he could better reach the kit.

“What all do you need from it?” He asked as he pulled it off the shelf and brought it over to Riku. Popping the latch, he started pulling things out he thought might be needed.

“Just a band-aid and some antibacterial ointment.”

Riku knew the cut wasn’t too bad, he’d just need a band-aid really, but Sora was in full mother hen mode and pulling out an amassment of things that really weren’t needed. Had he ever dealt with someone else having a wound before?

It was nice though to be fussed over for a change. He hadn’t really had anyone care this much since childhood.

Sora had dragged Riku closer after getting out the items requested (and what he thought would be needed) and made him wash the cut so he could take a look at it. The cut was clean, no jagged tears and while the muscle could be slightly seen it wasn’t bad enough for stitches or anything. If he was still living alone Riku would have just bandaged it and continued on with his night.

“You’re usually the one worrying about me,” Sora said as he pulled on some gloves so he could clean the cut better. They were a little big on his hands, bunching up around his wrists and hanging slightly off his fingers. “It feels kinda nice to take care of you for a change.”

Sora jerked his head up afterwards, a fierce blush on his face so stark his freckles stood out. “I-I mean–”

Riku let out a soft laugh as Sora stumbled over his words. It was absolutely flattering that Sora got so flustered around him sometimes. “It’s fine. I guess I do bother you too much sometimes about your health, but I’d hate to come home to find out something had happen to you.”

Letting out a noncommittal grunt over the inevitable tense conversation they had been skirting around for weeks now, Sora patted Riku’s hand, satisfied with the cleaning and bandaging of the wound. Looking up, Sora gave the surgeon a wane smile, obviously still not wanting to talk about the delicate situation with his health.

Riku sighed, taking his hand back and looking at the bandage. It was a little tight, but it’d suffice for now. “Thanks for taking care of me, Sora. I’m glad you were here to help out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I would have just bled all over everything before I could patch myself ” Riku admonished, brows furrowed as he went back to the prep area and began throwing away everything that had blood on it. Really just the onions and some of the other vegetables had blood, but he was thoroughly checking everything to make sure.

“So, since it’s obvious you need some help with your hand as bandaged as it is, I’m going to be nice and help out.” Sora was practically dripping with smugness as he started grabbing fresh vegetables to chop up.

“Thanks.” Riku sighed theatrically, letting his eyes roll and his shoulders slump as he grabbed a clean knife. It was so sarcastic that Sora barked out a laugh before bumping his shoulder against Riku’s in a playful manner.

“I had so much planned to do while I waited on you to finish dinner, too,” Sora said in a false tone of annoyance. Even when he was trying to act put upon, his smile was far too cheerful to be anything other than happy.

Riku snorted out a laugh. “Oh, was there a show you wanted to watch?”

The brunet hummed an excited note. “Yeah, I know you’re mostly into non-fiction stuff, but there’s a cool fake documentary about mermaids coming on tonight that looked really cool if you wanted to watch it with me?”

“Mermaids?” The word came out as if Riku had never spoken it before in his life. “Really? You want to watch something about that?”

Sora’s stature stooped slightly, his excitement obviously starting to deflate from Riku’s incredulous tone. It made Riku’s stomach twist in a painful knot to know he had dampened Sora’s excitement.

“Wait, no. I mean– I haven’t really been into that kind of stuff since I was a kid. But I’ll watch it if it’s with you.”

“First of all, we have to finish dinner,” Sora nodded as he spoke seriously for now. Truthfully dinner was supposed to already be in the oven by now, but because of the delay over a stupid injury caused by a pair of big blue eyes, it was running behind.

Sliding the tablet closer towards Sora, Riku pushed play once more and the gentle voice of the cook filled the room as the two worked on dinner together. While it hadn’t gone exactly as planned for the night, Riku found himself enjoying the evening far more than he had imagined as he joined Sora in scowling and mocking the chef in the video.

“If you let the roast sit that long in the oven it’ll dry out! What were they thinking having you put it in that long?” Sora was grumbling, refusing to let Riku set the timer or temperature the same as in the video.

Riku knew nothing about proper cooking, and even if something wasn’t as tender or juicy as he heard it was supposed to be, he still ate it because he wasn’t going to throw away food. While out of work on and off, Sora had taken up watching dozens of cooking shows while stuck at home, and being as he had to keep a pretty healthy diet, the brunet cooked his own meals. It was an interest and hobby he was growing to love.

“So you never told me about your day,” Sora said, nudging Riku with his foot while they both sat on the couch on different edges from one another. “When you came home you pretty much went straight to work with dinner.”

“I knew it would take a while and figured we could talk either while it baked or during dinner itself.” Riku shrugged, grabbing Sora’s foot and tickling the sole of it.

The brunet let out a sharp noise at the sensation, bringing his leg back to his body and wrapping an arm protectively around it. He frowned, eyes narrowed at Riku after he had tickled him. “If you do that again I’m never helping bandage your injuries ever.”

Riku shrugged, grinning broadly at the reaction he got from the other man. “Have you forgotten I’m a doctor? I can patch myself up if need be.”

Sora stuck his tongue out before huffing and turning to face the television. “Yeah, yeah. Big, fancy surgeon can put stitches in himself.”

“I did it as an intern to learn.”

Sora’s eyes went wide at the admittance. “You’re kidding.”

Shaking his head, Riku grabbed his drink off the coffee table in front of them and took a swig of soda. He felt it would be unfair to drink around Sora while the younger man was dealing with health issues that prevented it, so he stuck to nonalcoholic drinks unless out with co-workers.

“I’m not. But it’s a crazy story…”