#I rode the struggle bus all the way to the end of this one

[porcupine-girl]

I realized today that I've been blaming my writing going all to hell on covid. And that's definitely part of it - wisps of brain fog always linger for several weeks afterward, and I find it significantly harder to think of the word I mean for things than it was a couple of years ago.

But I realized today that something else happened at the same time:

I got covid for the first time in July 2022.

And my kid went into 7th grade a month and a half later.

Why is this significant?

Because 7th grade meant switching from elementary to middle school. And while the elementary school had an after school program that meant he got home between 5-5:30pm, the middle school had no such program. He stayed after for clubs, but they were only twice a week for an hour, and not the entire school year. They usually didn't start til October and ended in April.

My brain does not turn on properly until 2-3pm most days. This is just how it works. When I was in grad school (before having a kid, and when my husband lived in another city), I would go to campus and work 3pm-10pm many days, it was great. That is perfect.

Having a kid fucked this up, because suddenly my most productive time of day is filled with dinner and bedtime and such. When he started elementary school with this after school program, that helped because at least I had 2-3 hours a day after my brain turned on and before he got home.

Suddenly middle school is here, and he started getting home by 3:30, 4:30 when he had clubs (which again, was not most days). So suddenly I went from 2-3 hours of work time to an hour at most, and sometimes even when I thought I'd get that hour he'd show up at 3:30 because robotics club got cancelled.

Now high school is the same way - thankfully, his bus ride takes a while (he rode his bike the half mile to the middle school), so even though they get out at 2:30 he doesn't get home until 2:55. But this means I have no work time at all before he gets home and I have to start keeping on top of him to get homework done and practice cello and etc etc etc. The one extracurricular he's done so far, film crew, hasn't even been after school! First they were meeting from 7-9fuckingPM three days a week, then the past few weekends they've been filming 8am-5pm Saturdays & Sundays. Which means I do get time without him on the weekends, but my husband is home and sometimes he's even not working and expects me to do things with him because it's the only chance we get, since he's working most evenings.

So anyhow. I knew this was annoying, but I only realized today how bad it was because I was actually up and medicated and showered and dressed before 2pm (this is a constant struggle on days I don't teach, once again I'd been getting it under control and then covid hit), but I had trouble getting anything done 2-3pm because of the whole but he'll be home in less than an hour, whatever I do I'll have to stop in less than an hour thing that you KNOW renders many of us with ADHD completely useless. And this was the first time I realized that I lost those vital 2-3 work hours every weekday at the exact same time I got covid the first time, and I think that has impacted me more than I'd even realized.

ETA: I should mention that before I got covid the first time, I was actively preparing to query agents for some picture books, as well as about halfway through a middle grades novel, and had published two articles in kids' magazines and was actively querying to get more. Aside from the way my fanfic output has slowed to a trickle, I have made almost NO progress on ANY of these professional writing attempts. What time I do manage to spend on work stuff, I have to use on teaching, because shit will actually happen if I don't get teaching stuff done while if I don't get writing done absolutely nothing happens.

[hmshermitcraft]

for this weeks prompt! some impulse x grian (i am sorry i started writing and couldn’t stop)

Grian loved being a graphics teacher. He loved seeing all of his students excited faces and seeing how eager they were to learn when being taught something creative. Even those that didn’t really want to go into graphics enjoyed the freedom Grian gave them and that he allowed students to catch up on work in other classes if they weren’t planning to take graphics in the future.

What Grian didn’t like were other teachers. Sure, most were nice enough but very few enjoyed teaching as much as him. So, he stayed within his department mostly. Scar and Pearl were always just as passionate about their lessons as he was.

But sometimes, neither of them are in (that’s the issue with them both living together.) So, Grian usually has to pray the replacement teachers are able to keep the classes in check, as well as running around between all three classes that day.

He is just setting up in his classroom when a pair of men walks in, both a fair bit taller than him. The first one he locks eyes on is, “Mumbo!”

“Hi Grian! Impulse and I are gonna be taking over Scar and Pearl’s classes today.”

Grian turned to look at the other, larger man and felt his face heat up. “Oh… hiiii Impulse.”

“Sup dude! Yeah, I mean, our classes are all on field trips today with the other science staff plus we both have some kind of graphics knowledge from college so we figured we’d be most helpful. Is that ok?”

“Ofcourse it is.” Grian tried not to melt into a puddle. Sure, he didn’t interact with many non art teachers but the one of the ones he did see a lot out of work was Impulse. He was friends with Pearl (and Grian’s best friend Mumbo) so he was often with them for drinks or shopping days and well… Maybe Grian had developed a little crush on the man. Nothing major, just that he was a nice sight. With a kind voice and an amazing beard and being only a little taller than Grian, he just thought he was quite attractive, especially when he would go on little tangents about engineering and science.

The three of them sat around Grian’s desk as he began explaining what the classes had been up to and the lesson plans for the day. “Hm… you know what, my first class is one for older students and Scar and Pearl don’t share it… Maybe you two could stay here and get used to things and help out some students if you’re able to?”

“That’s an amazing idea, Grian!”

To say Grian went weak under Impulse’s praise would be an understatement. However, he had a class to teach.

Watching Grian teach felt like a privilege to Impulse. Grian, who in his mind was quiet and easily flustered and who maybe didn’t like Impulse all too much, was so confident when he taught. His class were like a well oiled machine and seemed just as hooked on Grian’s every word as Impulse felt.

As the class began to work, Grian immediately began making his way around the classroom, giving some students who were already struggling help and having lively conversations with others. Impulse began observing some of the students’ work, complimenting them all until he heard Grian’s voice. “Impulse, come over here, I need to show you something!”

Like a lapdog, Impulse immediately made his way over to Grian, “Yeah, G?”

“Look at this student’s work. Isn’t it incredible?” Grian began to show Impulse some of this student’s work, including some graphics he’d made for each school department.

“Wow, these are amazing and really inspired. I love the bright colours you use as well. Welldone.” Impulse could see the student’s eyes light up, as well as Grian’s

The day ran smoothly, most of the lessons were well behaved, especially with Grian poking his head in to check. At the end of the day, Impulse came into Grian’s classroom. “Hey, G… uh I was wondering if you still rode your bike?”

“Huh… oh yes I do.” Grian was busy packing away some work to mark, ending up with two full bags and his arms totally full as well. “I was gonna get the bus today though.”

“Why don’t I drive you? I uh I have a van so you can easily put your bike in and it would avoid and student work getting damaged… plus the forecast says it’s gonna rain.”

“Really? Thank you so much.”

Impulse took the sheets of work from Grian’s hands to help him out and the pair walked out to the car park. Impulse put Grian’s bags and papers into a large plastic box just to avoid them receiving any extra damage while the other got his bike from the shed.

“You play the drums?”

“Yeah, some of the engineering and science department people get together and play… it’s just for fun but it’s really fun.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it some time… Uh, sorry, let me just..” Grian hoisted his bike inside and rested it on the floor beside its lock.

The pair got in their seats and Impulse began to drive, some random music playing from the radio. Grian rested his head against the window, watching as the rain began.

“Hey G, um… do you not like me?”

“Huh?” Grian turned to Impulse, looking horrified. “No! Not at all.”

“Oh… it’s just that you always seem uh not very talkative around me and you always avoid me when we hang out in groups… do you not like me hanging out with you?”

“No I- Oh gosh, this is embarrassing…” Grian sighed and stared straight ahead at the road. “I might have a bit of a crush on you.”

“Oh… that’s cool.”

The pair then burst into laughter.

“Cool!? Impulse who responds to someone having a crush on them with cool?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were too cool to like me!”

“Oh my gosh…”

The pair calmed down now, the air in the van a lot more relaxed. As they pulled up outside of Grian’s, Impulse cleared his throat.

“Would you like to go out for drinks soon? Just the two of us…”

“Like a date?” Grian asked hopefully.

“Yeah, uh if you want.”

“I’d love to.”

Grian's students totally don't notice Impulse hanging around the art department more often nowadays. And no, he totally doesn't bring Grian a snack, and Grian totally doesn't find flowers on his desk.

Mumbo, Scar and Pearl also love taking responsibility for getting the couple together, despite contributing absolutely nothing. It's their right!

[waterforlorn]

@tiredanvilandmace; let's see how far i can take this? nghh late night rambles, you shouldn't have let me

somewhere along the way, lev ...adopted a child. it couldn't be described as anything else, because ... nico was - at best, a damn brat. lev knew that when they met & argued about his armor, knew that when they visited the twilight lands for the first time & nico dipped his fuckin' hand into some badass magical goo on the walls. or the times he sacrificed his vision to see something that might help them. noble? maybe. stupid? definitely. so yeah, lev adopted a child. among other kids - actual kids.

he never would've thought he'd spend so much time with the blacksmith & while he knew that their first interactions had been solely based on lev needing something & other than that he'd had no intention of ever sticking around the hephaestus child for long. that first mission together only proved that staying around nico on his reckless journey through time would end badly. lev might not see himself growing old in camp, but he wanted to at least spill some more blood before he bit the dust. preferably not his own.

but nico was... strangely addictive. a magnet. lev couldn't seem to escape him, not for long & it didn't help that he wasn't just reckless, he was stubborn as all hell, too. most of the kids were too busy fuckin' & fightin' they didn't notice just how much shit nico was up to half the time they went out on missions. lev, who was born observant & judgemental at its finest... saw. lev saw a lot around him, ever-observant & ever distrustful. they were only so strong as their weakest link, so lev took it upon himself to watch after that ...link.

& boy, it had to be the chattiest fuckin' one he'd ever been forced to stick close to. he'd had a few back in the army, his platoon had ramblers, but he'd not really seen them as that. the youngest upon his acceptance, he'd been too busy earning their respect. with nico.. it was different. he had his respect & in battle, he had lev's, because nico could throw a punch if he put his heart into it. part of why lev had found himself even eyeing the other male in the first place. what could he say? he had a type.

clearly, it was not a good type, because lev could swear he'd come to camp with a perfectly dark mane of locks & after a few months around nico, he was .... finding grey in his comb. grey. he was complicated, exhausting at times & a fuckin' annoyance, but .. lev knew he meant well & it felt like ... nico got him. in a way. in a weird & twisted way nonetheless. because lev was not an easy man, even though he often claimed he was. he, too, came with ....risks.

nico was unfazed by every single one presented to him & their friendship... flourished. lev had successfully adopted a man-child & at that point it was too late to return him. he knew that. while lev could practically see the improvements he made in battle, nico ... found himself struggling. some fights he wound up the enemy's punching bag, some they barely escaped with their lives & then there was the forest.

they... never really spoke about it. not with words, he knew both of them didn't know how, so ..silence had been the choice. silence & reconnaissance. a silent understanding, but lev... chose not to tell nico what he found out when he thought the other died & maybe it was for the best, because ... for the longest time he wasn't sure if the nico that woke up in his arms was the same that he rode into battle with. or if he ever would be again.

the forest changed everything.

⸺ everything.

including lev's... own... well, lev. fear & desperation had never had a home within the former soldier's heart. there'd never been room for that. lev never wallowed in self-pity, never let a defeat stop him from trying again, but for the first time in his life... lev had been afraid. terrified even. one could say... heartbroken, without even knowing he'd already given his heart away. unwillingly.

nico took great care of it, but nothing changed. nico didn't change. chasing adventure, playing with fire - sneaking out of goddamn camp on his own to meet something powerful enough to literally lure him out of camp. it was like he didn't want to be alive. why wouldn't he understand?

twilight lands. again. after nico willingly nearly sacrificed himself for blaze last time... lev knew why nico decided the way he did & he knew that ... well, he'd go with him. he wouldn't let him die alone. he'd not been happy, not at all. lev had ... not been this furious in a long while, but after nico's big speech about nova roma & how they should retire there some day... it'd been a punch to the gut.

but sparring with charlie & kit ...complicated everything. again. nico's mind worked in mysterious ways, but ... lev knew he struggled, the forest a constant nagging little voice in the back of his mind. always nagging. lev knew it fed the blacksmith lies & hissed little promises of failure & he knew nico hadn't exactly been feeling great about his role during the latest missions. lev agreed. nico was not made to play punching bag, he wasn't sturdy enough to take that role, but .. & lev wasn't sure if that'd been the blacksmith's leg acting up, or if he'd simply been too distracted during fights, but ... he'd not had a good time.

lev... was observant. he was aware nico loved his maces, but he... had an idea. it was a pretty good one if you asked him. it'd taken him a few days to get the ball rolling, but ... after they... after... now that they... ugh. now that they told each other how they felt, he thought it was a good idea. the decision he made had not been an easy one, but .. it was a good one & he hoped nico would see it the same way.

fingers entwined as they walked, because lev had grabbed one of nico's hands to tug him back to the poseidon cabin in a ... wordless ... frenzy of sorts. just without the killing. he hadn't expected nico to have the same idea, in a way. while lev had gone all out for something new entirely, nico had borrowed the trident lev took & worked his magic on it - in secret. lev.. wasn't sure he was ready to embrace it fully yet, but... he would try. the fact poseidon had answered his prayers surely helped.

but for nico, he'd had a different idea. a surefire way to help. at least he hoped it would it was custom-made & lev had spent a lot of time thinking about the perfect way to introduce nico to said new idea, but ... this had sped the entire process up. a lot. with his new trident on his back & back at the cabin, he left nico by the fountain.

"wait here." he knew nico would obey while lev went & fetched ...a thing of beauty. heavy in his hands, he knew it was perfect & it ...reminded him of nico. during lev's endless talks with the orcs at the forge, lev found himself with two options, but a sword in nico's hands... had felt wrong. this was better.

what he carried into the main hall of the poseidon cabin was not a hammer & yet it was. but it was so much more than that, bigger & badder - a weapon of mass destruction if in the right hands. one typically maul-like pointy-bits end & the other - upon request, had been flattened to imitate a hammer's surface. a small jewel etched into each side would resonate with nico's magic. lev knew it was a stretch, expecting him to go from maces to... this. but nico said he was open to change. for them. well, this was part of it.

holding the maul in both his hands in front of him - just like nico had held his trident, lev found himself fidgeting. "uh. i know it ain't your maces, but .. i think you're gonna like it." he sure as shit hoped so. "been waitin' for the right time... guess this is it." glancing away, lev was trying to think of what else to say, but he came up blank.

"don't... say no. try it. we both gotta practice." please. maul was pushed against nico's chest, but lev didn't pull his hands away & instead waited for the other to grab it, so he could not only place his trident against the maul, but cover the blacksmith's hands with his own around both weapons - the distance between them but a hairsbreadth. forehead found the other's, the maul squeezed between both their chests.

"....new rome. you'n me."

[erigold13261]

Dream from 7/9/2024

After my Mahito dream I just posted about, my dream turned into a setting where I was like a pre-teen girl who was an older sibling to another girl. My younger sister was much more appreciated and basically the golden child where I couldn't do anything right because if I had anything less than 100 then I was seen as a failure.

It was a clear sign of favoritism which broke me when I got a 96 on a test and told my sister not to tell our parents so I could explain first there were trick questions, but she didn't listen, told them and they told me how disappointed they are and lectured me even though my sister was shit at school.

I put my all into my schooling and had no friends to the point I felt so isolated that this issue was what broke the camel's back and I had gone into the gun safe my father had and took out a gun to contemplate giving my parents their perfect family without their problem child.

But then I put the gun back and instead packed up a secret bag full of clothes and other stuff I would need like money I stole from my parents' room, some pans and tarps, a knife, things that would allow me to survive in the woods for months since apparently I knew how to live in the outdoors from camping trips or something.

I also took one of my mom's unused perfumes that was way in the back so if my parent's used scent dogs I could mask my scent with perfume to stay out longer.

Anyway, I went to school by walking but instead of going into school I actually just turned around and started walking with some of these younger kids who were going home for some reason? I don't know why, it was the morning so it's not like they were half-day students, plus they were younger and shouldn't have been walking alone but they were and I tried using them as cover.

Unfortunately my father had told the school I was being punished or something and so the guards took note of me leaving and started to follow me from a distance. I realized they were doing this and was able to break eyesight by turning the corner and going down an alleyway. Then I hid my bag somewhere and jumped into this weird ass pool that looked like a minecraft house was built on it so that I could stay under water as the security walked by.

For some reason the security officer went in the pool too to look for me. He didn't find me but it was very nerve wracking and I was struggling to hold my breath. He ended up leaving to go look for me somewhere else.

Afterwards, I went home to change my clothes and get my bag as well as some other essentials I couldn't grab with my parents home. Some pots and pans, a matchbook, probably some other stuff I can't remember at this moment.

Then I went and walked to the shopping center, went to a sports area and bought a small but good tent and played off being alone to the employees by saying my dad let me pick my own tent and stuff to be a big girl while he was in the store next door (and pretended to be a rich kid or something like "do you know my father" so that they wouldn't be wondering why my dad just gave me so much money to go into a store alone).

And from there I went and got a bus ticket or a train ticket and just rode it to the outside of the city. During the ride I took a few stops off, changed my clothes while in a bathroom. Once I got to one that had a window I could get out of, I cut my hair with either the knife I had or some scissors I brought.

Pretty sure I just went out the window at this point, but I did have a reverse memory (meaning later in the dream I revisiting this part) and went into the janitor's closet to hide for the night. Though that was a later edition to the dream and so I don't count it as canon. I just went out the window to leave.

I walked to the forest and made sure to find a dense area that still had a relatively close water source near by and started to set up my area.

I made sure I had a tarp for wood, set that on a small hill so that any wood I get wouldn't get water logged. Also covered the top in leaves and branches so it wasn't seen easily.

I dug a big pit and put leaves and other insulation into it then set up my tent on top so it was kinda below the ground so I had less to cover with leaves and branches when hiding the tent from others (it was also a green color instead of the blue like the tarp).

And I basically set up camp, making sure I had two seasonal outfits that stayed clean so when I needed to go back to the city/civilization to get some supplies with the rest of the cash I had, I wouldn't look like a homeless kid.

I did also get some hair bleach and bleached my hair using the river (I made sure to do this downstream so that I wouldn't contaminate the water I was drinking from, but I still put bleach in the water so that probably wasn't the best for the wildlife).

And yea, I had my whole area set up and changed my appearance. I made a bow from some twine and branches that I peeled and dried over my fire (which I made a version of that was in the ground. Just looked it up and it was like the Dakota Hole Fire if you look up scout fire pits. I wanted to make sure my fire wasn't going to be seen by others easily, especially at night when I was cooking).

I made sure my food was away from my base in case there were bears. I had a filter for water plus some extra cheese cloth and storage containers in case my filter broke (I made sure to also boil the water before putting it into the filter).

Whenever I met someone on the trail I told them I was camping with my family and just taking a walk. Though that lie got less and less believable as time went on as I looked less and less presentable.

I was actually able to live like this for a while. A couple of months, up until I was found by a couple that noticed I looked like the girl that went missing a while ago because my hair had grown and the roots of my hair were now showing.

But going back to when I left. The security guards continued to pursue me for a bit before giving up and radioing back to the school I was missing (you know, instead of immediately radioing that I left while they looked for me so the school could inform my parents right away and someone could have possibly gone home and caught me before I left, but that's the school system for you).

I was gone by the time my parents got home, and they were so upset with themselves because I left a note saying they can finally have their perfect family or something like that. I think it was like "Now you can have your wanted daughter only." No, it wasn't that, but it was along those lines. It was shorter I think, but same vibe.

Anyway, they did actually try to use scent dogs as well as surveillance video, but the perfume plus me going in and out of restrooms and changing my appearance, as well as only using cash, not cards, really threw everyone off.

I don't know exactly what happened with my family because my dream didn't really focus on them as it was focusing on me in the woods. But it did show me that my English teacher did have a diary project going on for the year (it was late in the school year) and my family wanted to see if I wrote anything in there.

Funnily enough, my teacher never looked in the diary because she literally told us she wouldn't. This was supposed to be a diary for us and she was just going to keep it safe. I didn't believe her, so when you read my diary it was stuff like "I know you're gonna read this, but I'll be truthful anyway" or things like being super vague like "I had THAT dream again" so that the teacher wouldn't be able to tell my parents things I wrote down (I even apologized to the teacher in my diary for being vague and explained that my parents don't like me so I don't want them knowing some of the dreams I had).

Because of how I wrote things, they couldn't figure out where I would go, but they did realize just how much they fucked me up by giving my sister preferential treatment while always pushing me to be better and better (I think they had the idea that I was the older sibling and so I needed to be a good role model, but it just broke me in the end).

So yea, I was alone for months, from the like late spring to late fall/early winter. I had actually planned to be out this long and had brought a seasonal change of clothes, along with a jacket, and by this time had figured out how to use hide from the animals I killed (mainly small animals like rabbits, birds, and squirrels) so I had warm insulation and make-shift clothes for the colder months.

I was only found because, like I said, my hair had grown and my roots were starting to show, so a couple found me in the woods, a couple that I have met before on multiple occasions as they frequent the woods and they no longer believed my story that I was just camping with my family, and they called the police.

When the police got me, I was taken from my little hovel and brought to the police station. I don't think I was immediately reunited with my parents, but by this time in the dream I was starting to wake up IRL so I was gaining more control which is usually the end of the fun parts of my dream.

Pretty sure I was just depressed that I was back and continued to say how my parents didn't love me and I was just giving them the life they wanted with their actual wanted child. I don't remember what the CPS person said, or what my parents said, but they were broken by me leaving the way I did.

I don't think I ever got a reaction of what my sister felt. I think my dream was gonna make her mad at me for leaving and fucking up her life. I don't feel like she was going to be sad I was gone or worried about me. So yea, that part of the dream I never really got a resolution for at all.

But by this point I was awake and just trying to keep remembering my dream so I could write it down here.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

12.27.23 Wednesday

9:09 am

Still, have windblow... Hmmm.... Who are the people behind this ritual... I pray for our extension here on earth, me and John...

He is having diarrhea... But I think it is just a normal diarrhea ( hope it is)....If this dog will die, I will be with him....I love this dog so much...

What happened? Did someone put a spell on my baby???

One of the major things on getting a bf, he must treat my son-dog as his own baby.... If I have extra money, I will bring him right away to a vet. But I hope this is not serious,just like on us human, sometimes we have diarrhea and it will just heal on its own.

I want someone who is tall, handsome and sensitive about dogs and me ( on getting a daddy-bf ). Sensitive that he needs to assist me on my expenses on my son-dog. I wanted John to have his rightful life with me but I'm so broke these days... But I'm taking care of him on the best possible way that I can...

There was never a day I feel tired on taking care of John....There was never a day I feel that I hate him coz he is pooping around the house and I need to keep on cleaning it... I never feel obligated... I never feel that this is just a show but it is all coming from my heart the love I have for my baby-dog.

I always wanna make sure that you are feeling ohkay....I raised him since he was a lil boy, he was pooping around the house and I always clean it until he is a grown-up boy now... He knows where to poops as long as he sees his floor mats,he will go there...

1:59 pm

I think Uncle DD is in ritual?

If they kill my dog, kill me as well and this is a seŕious message for the ritual group of INC probably linking with Uncle DD and Betsilogs gang. PROBABLY MITCH IS PART OF THIS RITUAL...

Kill me if they will kill my dog... I know it is not yet the time for John to leave not yet....We can still be dinosaur...

2:19 pm

Doing this ritual windblow...

Or Uncle Jun probably or the fucking old friends? Missing friends???

It will be just an unfair thing to kill us here, me and my dog without having a fair fight. You end us without allowing us to prove something. The ritual group don't deserve what they acquire,that power to kill and make someone alive.

George Eusibio probably part of rituals?

2:23 pm

I'm not scared to die, I just don't want to struggle... Be fair! I don't deserve to struggle even my dog or dogs...

6:10 pm

Hmm..... I wonder where is my alcohol.... I need it and I'm on thrift.

6:15 pm

Sorry for my cheapness but still on art!

Got it here... It is 29 pesoses angels!

9:12 pm

Here now in Conduent... Super badtrip! I tried that Pittx from Salitran Dasma. It is a super wrong route...

Then, that bus drop off me at the Pittx terminal. When I went at the gate 7 it was super long line... ( as in Potang inah )... Then, someone told me to go at the gate 10... Then, I rode the bus going to Double Dragon... Somehow a heavy traffic.

When that bus reached the Double Dragon, I saw this fucking ebike who asked me a 50 pesoses instead of 15 or 20 pesoses... Then, I asked the other ebike driver then my driver told the other ebike that hey! It is really 50 pesoses,right? I saw them talking using their eyes or making a sign on eyes, the other driver said it's really 150. I said wow ! Taxi!!! I let it passed coz I was already in the middle of high way....But I feel bullshit!

12.28.23 Thursday

6:09 am

I hope my baby is ohkay... I'm worrying so much,angels...

7:09 am

Riding a bus going HOME with Jocelyn

[amaradangeli]

Chenford + don't pretend with me Lucy

She'd been chirpy, and smiley, and flirty all day - basically business as usual. Except it was just two or three degrees off all day, too, and it was putting him on edge. Something was wrong and whoever had taught her to fake it until she could make it, well, they hadn't taught her how to actually do that.

To top it off, their morning had been a little slow. Lunch was dragging into an extended affair and it was just the two of them sitting at their little table now. He waggled his to-go cup and then pulled at the straw, the sucking sound of the bottom of the beverage making her look up at him sharply, like he'd interrupted whatever mental gymnastics she was doing.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her answer was too carefully modulated.

"Don't pretend with me, Lucy. I can tell something's going on."

"Nothing's going on. I'm not pretending. I'm fine."

He chuckled. "Now I know there's something going on. That's the kiss of death word right there. Fine," he scoffed, then popping the last french fry into his mouth "means anything but."

The neutral-happy look slid off her face. She didn't quite swap to a frown, but she did develop a little furrow between her brows that was telling.

"My mother has employed the services of a matchmaker."

"Your mom is married to your dad."

"For me," she said with a huff.

Oh. Well, that was certainly more interesting. But he's sort of built a brand on not overly engaging with the personal banter. Mostly because it's fun to watch her try to engage him. "And you're not happy about that?"

"Of course not!" She threw her hands up like she couldn't even believe he was asking.

"So just don't use the matchmaker." It was an obvious solution, really, he couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it.

"It's not that easy. This isn't just my mom overstepping - though she is. It's a Chinese thing. This is a big deal."

"But you don't want to work with a matchmaker, right?"

"No!"

"Then... don't. What? Is your mom going to be more disappointed in you than she already is?" They both knew the score with Lucy's mom, and Lucy wasn't terribly sensitive to it anymore, but still, he felt bad for his choice of words when he saw the pained look on her face.

"I want to really not want to use the matchmaker."

Oh. This was about Lucy being interested in the matchmaker but resisting because it's her mother's idea. Got it. He felt as if he were about to take his life in his hands. "What's wrong with using the matchmaker?"

Yeah, she did look like she would murder him if they weren't cops. He didn't think the legality was even part of the picture anymore.

"Especially if it's culturally appropriate."

"I was born in Los Angeles. It's not culturally appropriate. Besides, isn't it just... admitting there's something wrong with me?"

Was she nuts? "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Maybe... maybe there is?"

Ugh, he hated when her voice did that thing, that soft and unsure thing that made him want to comfort her. "There's not," he reassures her, definitively.

"Well of course you'd say that."

"Excuse me," he holds up a finger in front of her face. "When have I ever blown smoke up your ass? Have I ever struck you as the kind of guy who said nice things for no damn reason?"

"Well, no. Except that time my ex was getting married."

"And you called me out on that; you were right. That's not me."

"No, it's not."

"So if I'm sitting here telling you there's nothing wrong with you, you gonna listen to me?"

"Okay, fine. I'm terrific. My prince charming is just... busy."

"Or something."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Or something?"

"One day, some guy will sweep you off your feet. You'll see." Maybe, that guy would even be him.

"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced. "Well, until then, I'm going to be pissed at my mother for this clear overreach."

"Noted. C'mon, Chen. Let's go find some action."

[byjwn]

박성훈 envy of you

sunghoon x fem! reader .. fluff, popular boy and unknown girl au. minimal cursing. she envied the life that he lived and wanted everything that he had, without knowing that he felt the same way.

you hated park sunghoon. you hated almost everything about him. but you only hated him because of how much you admired him and the life lived. you watched him and his best friend, nishimura riki, laugh and tease each other as they sat at the front of the class. you always wondered what it was like to have a super close friend like that. the last friend you could recall was in kindergarten, but she moved away to the states not too long after you had befriended her. ever since then, you have been alone. nobody ever really noticed you. you were practically non-existent to everyone at school, or so you thought.

sunghoon on the other hand was the most known guy in school. everyone loved him and would throw themselves at him just to get a single “hello.” you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t understand why people liked him so much, but you did understand. just looking at him was an honor because of how beautiful he was. he was also one of the nicest guys you have ever come across. you haven’t spoken a single word to him and he hasn’t spoken one to you either, but overhearing all the conversations he has with other students, you can tell how genuine he was. park sunghoon was the closest to the definition of perfect you can get.

you averted your gaze from the duo to look at the blank piece of paper on your desk that was supposed to be filled with notes. you frowned, tapping your pen repeatedly on your desk. as you continued to stare at your paper, you had an odd feeling that someone was staring at you, so you looked up. your eyes examined every student in your class, but they were all too busy to pay attention to you in the slightest.

the school day had finally reached its end and you were making your way to the bus stop. you were typically the only one who rode the bus to school and back home since everyone else got a ride from their parents or friends. you finally decided to look up from your feet when you noticed a muscular body standing at the bus stop. the closer you walked, the more you recognized this figure. park sunghoon. ‘what is he doing here? he never takes the bus.’ you thought to yourself, reaching the bus stop but keeping a decent distance between you and him. you stared back at your feet to avoid him looking at you, not that he would even think to anyway.

“do you usually take the bus?” you heard his kind voice ask you. your breath hitched as you struggled to spit out words in response. you took a quick glance at him, and he gave you an inviting smile, before nodding yes. he shook his head in agreement, “that’s cool. this is my first time taking it actually.” you stayed silent, hoping that he wouldn’t make any more small talk so you could escape this confusing dream.

the bus finally showed up and you quickly made your way into the bus, sitting all the way in the back. little did you expect that park sunghoon would sit one seat away from you. he turned to look at you, again with that beautiful smile of his, “you’re y/n, right?” “how do you know my name?” you questioned him back. he let out a soft chuckle, “i know not many people talk to you or anything, but don’t think anyone doesn’t know you exist.”

"well i wouldn’t really expect someone as popular as you to know i exist," you responded with a frown, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. "it’s really not all that great being popular, you know. your friends aren’t really your friends. they just want that status too." you furrowed your eyebrows, "what do you mean?" "i mean, they just want to be popular and have this big group of friends. it almost makes them feel cool. in all honesty, i’d rather be like you. quiet and reserved with nobody to bug me." you were shocked, to say the least. park sunghoon said he wanted to be like you rather than experience the life he has right now. "you really don’t, sunghoon. i want friends like you do. nobody even pays attention to me but everyone loves you."

“you don’t.”

you haven’t spoken to sunghoon since that day you rode the bus together. you’ve seen him multiple times in school, but he hasn’t even attempted to spare a single glance at you. you couldn’t help but feel sad at how she could say such a thing and then never even look at you again.

you sat at an empty lunch table, picking at your food with your fork but not having a big enough appetite to eat it. all you could think about was park sunghoon and that conversation you two shared. “is this seat taken?”, you heard the familiar voice say from above you before being accompanied by another body sitting next to you. speak of the devil, park sunghoon. “why are you sitting here?” you asked him, going back to picking at your food. “well it doesn’t look like anyone else was sitting here, so why not?” he said before digging into his average lunch meal. you looked behind you to spot sunghoon’s usual lunch table where he eats and hangs out with his other friends. all their eyes were on you with a glaring look.

“your friends don’t look too happy that you’re sitting with me.” “fuck them. i want to feel normal for once” he said with his mouthful of rice before chugging down half the bottle of his water. you chuckled at the cute bunny looking boy and began chowing down on your own food.

ever since then, you and sunghoon became closer and closer every day. you could tell that you were starting to fall for him and you liked to think that he felt the same way. “what are you gonna do now? since your friends don’t like you anymore.” sunghoon raised his eyebrows at your sudden question, “hang with you, of course. i prefer it this way anyway.” sunghoon smirked as he saw the blush start to creep on your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. he began to speak again, “i think this is what i needed. i needed you. i feel so more alive when i’m with you and i never want that to change”

you looked up at sunghoon before nodding your head, agreeing that you felt the exact same way. sunghoon grabbed the side of your face and caressed your cheek as he observed how beautiful you were, “and what if i told you i wanted to be something more?”

authors note ; i cant really tell if i like this or not lol but let me know what you guys think. i’m gonna try and be more active just because i really want to write more as it’s a fun hobby of mine. requests are open btw so feel free to send some or even just can’t with me through my ask box !

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. ��Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

[duckit7]

Online Dating Can Be Hard 6

It’s always nice where there is a chill weekend to break out more than one chapter! I hope you guys enjoy! 

-------

“Cam, you should come home this weekend. You haven’t seen mom in a while, and she has been asking why you don’t call her more. Plus, Makenzie wants to see her favorite uncle.” My sister said on the other side of the phone.

She was right. I hadn’t been home much since moving to the other side of town. “I call mom once every week… How often does she want me to call? Every day? I swear if it was her way we would all still live at home with her…” I chuckled. “But it would be nice to stop by and see how the little Mac truck is doing!”

“She misses you that’s for sure. We all do… I know you have a way better job on the north side of town, but don’t forget about the rest of us down here on the south side!” she joked.

“I don’t think that is even possible! Well, I should probably get back to said job. Tell mom I’ll stop by for lunch Saturday. How’s that sound?” I said seeing that my break was almost up.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll let her know. Love you Cam.”

“Love you Lauren.” I replied before clicking end.

I leaned back in my chair. It had been over a month or two since I had been home to see my family and friends. Heading to the other side of town was over an hour trip for a parvus and most weekends I was spent from work. Being new meant learning the ropes as well as learning the job. Work was starting to get a little easier, though, so this would be the perfect time to make the trip down.

-----

Saturday rolled around and I boarded the parvus bus south. My backpack strung over my shoulder was filled with gifts from small parvus shops up north as well as my mother’s favorite flower, a daisy, poking proudly out.

The bus was fairly quiet for a Saturday morning as the other patrons kept to themselves. I watched as the streets flew by as each minute passed. Time seemed to drone on. Neighborhoods started to change into a more rural feel as the bus twisted and turned to the outskirts of town. I watched the stops and counted down to Poplar St. Brich St., Oak St., Ceder St., and then finally Poplar.

I slid out as was greeted by the cool autumn breeze. I filled my lungs with the sweet fresh air of home. Kids rode their bikes around the quiet street. Neighbors were cutting up leaves for the trash. People were walking their ladybugs down the sidewalk. It felt like nothing had changed over the past couple of months.

I walked down to my sister’s house. Five down houses on the left, just like I remembered it. I had only been gone a short period of time, but it felt like ages as I stared up at the little blue house that we had grew up in.

I knocked on the door and waited patiently. Footsteps could be heard on the other side. Then lots of childish giggling. The door opened to reveal my sister. She had a baby propped up on a hip as she held back the little Mac truck. I smiled as the little girl darted past her mother into my awaiting arms.

“Uncle Cam!!!” she screamed with joy.

“Little Mac!” I said scooping her up. Her little arms wrapped around my neck in a big hug. “Wow you’ve grown!” I said faking like I was struggling to hold her.

“I have!” The youngster exclaimed with happiness. “A whole millimeter!”

“Dang girl! If you keep growing like that you will be as big as a human!” I teased as I tickled her.

My heart soared at her little giggles. “Silly Uncle Cam. I won’t grow that tall.”

“Not with that attitude you won’t!” I joked before placing the little parvus back on the ground.

“Welcome home! You are looking good! North side hasn’t beat you up too bad from what I can see.” Lauren said as she leaned in with her free arm for a hug.

“Nah it hasn’t been too bad up there.” I said wrapping my arm around her for a side hug.

“You’re getting big too! Aren’t cha little Clay.” I cooed as I pinched the cheeks of the baby in my sister’s arms.

“You could say that again…” My sister snorted a laugh. “I swear I get my daily workout in just picking the hefty dude up and carrying him around!”

I let out a hardy laugh.

“Well come on in stranger and get out of the cold!” She said moving aside. “Mom is already here and we have scrabble already set up and waiting. Lunch should be done in 20 or so mins”

I smiled to myself. Man, it was good to be home.

-------

Hours seemed to flash by in a blink of an eye. My family asked all about my life up North. I told them that I was keeping fairly busy and that my coworkers were pretty cool. I decided to keep out the fact that I had befriended a human and was now pulled into their motley crew of a friend group. I didn’t know how they would take it and preferred not having my mother worrying about me hanging around with humans. My sister knew I was leaving something out, but knew not to press with mom around.

Mom bragged about our oldest sister Sara who was in Iowa as a doctor. Both Lauren and I laughed because it was blatant who the favorite child was. We didn’t mind though. Sara was about 10 years older than us and was out of the house really early in our lives. So it had always just been Lauren and I. With all the shenanigans we got into as children it was no wonder why Sara was the favorite.

Mom asked if I stopped by dad’s grave yet and I told her I was planning to on my way out of town. After a couple games of scrabble where mom kicked both mine and Lauren’s ass every time, I decided it was time to head home.

“Uncle Cam…” Mac said as she pulled at the hem of my shirt. “When are you coming back to visit us?”

I knelt down and pinched her little nose between my fingers. “Well little mac truck, I was thinking about coming back in a couple of weeks if you would allow it.”

The little girl giggled and nodded her head. “I will allow it but only on one condition.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“You bring me chocolate!” she said with such excitement.

Man, I loved the innocence of children. “Deal.” I said sticking out my hand to confirm the deal in a handshake.

Standing I turned to my family and waved goodbye.

-------

Wind whistled low through the graveyard as I stood as still as the headstones that surrounded me. The coke can snapped and hissed as I popped it open.

“Hey dad…” I said staring down at the concrete slab that read Harrison Chaudhry. Tears started to well up at the corners of my eyes. Years had passed since the event and yet I still struggled every time I came to visit him. I cursed under my breath as I rubbed my eyes.

“I brought you a coke… I figured they probably don’t have many of these up there…” I said giving a slight pause before pouring out the can on the ground.

“I ah… I’m enjoying my job up north! It pays well too. It’s a little far and sometimes makes it hard to get down here but I’m making do… I ah… Have made some friends and stuff too… I ah… yeah… I miss you dad…” I said. Taking one last deep breath I turned around to leave.  

“Hey Cam! Wait up!” I turned to see a parvus man running towards me. He came to a halt right before me with his hands on his knees as he was trying to catch his breath. “Your sister said you were in town. I knew I would find you here!” He said between breaths.

“Frankie! How you doing man?!” I said grabbing my best friend’s hand as I pulled him in for a hug.

“Good man! Can’t complain. The Mrs. and I are expecting our first. Not a big deal or nothing.” He shrugged with a smirk.

“Wait what?!” I said slugging him in the arm. “Congrats man! That’s huge! You are going to be a father! I can’t believe that!” I said unable to contain my excitement.

“Yeah dude isn’t that crazy! It seems just like yesterday that we were kids ourselves! Now I’m about to be a dad. The world is wild man! But enough about me. How are you doing?” Frank asked.

“Good! Can’t complain. Work keeps me busy but pays well.” I said nonchalantly.

“Probably keeps you out of trouble too I’m guessing.” Frank jested.

“Oh you know.” I tossed back.

“Have you made any friends up there? They probably aren’t as cool as us I know.” Frank joked. “Have you met any girls?”

I couldn’t help as a small smile came to my face thinking about a certain human girl. Unfortunately for me, Frank knew me so well he could pick up on the small facial expression. “Ohhhh…. So there is a girl….” He said raising his eyebrows for effect.

Immediately my face went red. Why was I even thinking about Kate, I mentally cursed myself. She was a friend I guess…

“It’s not like that. She is just a friend.” I immediately regretted opening my big mouth.

Frank narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend you say? How did you guys meet?”

‘Why was this always the first question!’ I groaned internally. “We ahhh… met online…” I said knowing full well there was no way I was going to get out of this situation.

“Online….” Frank drawled. “Like a dating website.”

“Maybe.” I squeaked out. “But it’s not what you think! We are a little too different, so we decided to be just friends.” I blurted.

“How are you guys too different?” Frank continued.

“She is ahhh… too tall for me…” I said trying to brush it off with a shrug.

Frank’s eyes narrowed even more. “Impossible. You dated Mary Sinder for over a year and she was head and shoulders taller than you.”

Dang it. I was caught. I guess they say the truth will set you free. “Well…. she is too tall for me because she is a…. ahh… a human…”

Frank visibly stiffened.

I didn’t know what else to do so I did what I do best when I am nervous. I rambled. “She is really nice though! Her name is Kate and she has been really kind and gentle with me and has other parvus friends that I’ve hung out with and even invited me hiking and-”

Frank put up a hand for me to stop. Silence hung heavy between the two of us for a second before he finally spoke up. “You of all people I thought would understand that it’s not safe to trust humans. That its not safe to even be around humans.” Frank paused to look at my father’s grave. “Your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew this. What has your family said?”

“I haven’t told them…” I said softly.

Frank shook his head.

“Frank!” I pleaded. “Please understand. Kate is different-”

Frank’s hand shot out and pulled my shirt violently up and pointed to my chest. “Cam you know as well as anyone that she isn’t different! She is a fucking human. The same race that did this to you! The same race that stepped on your fucking father like he was a cockroach on the fucking ground. She is not fucking different and you fucking know it!” he roared.

I took in a sharp breath and forcefully yanked my shirt back down, covering all the scars once more.

Frank looked into my eyes. He was searching for something. He took a deep breath and shook his head again. “Cam” he said raising his eyes to meet mine once more. My friend seemed to have aged a decade or two right before my eyes. His voice was sad as he spoke, “You know what your biggest fault is? You are too forgiving… You only see the good in people…” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “That will get you killed one day…” He then turned to leave.

I stood there, still as stone. My head swirled with every emotion as I watched my friend walk away. Maybe he was right.

----

The bus ride back was quiet. So was my apartment. My mind and body were numb as I slipped into bed.

I willed for sleep to come swiftly, but was instead greeted by nightmares.

[btswritingcafe]

monthly picks by our network’s coffeehouse chat members to you!

americano kisses | myg — @sunshinejunghoseokie

The best part about working at Minju’s Perfect Cup had been the man with the gummy smile. When you come home after spending three years abroad, you find yourself wondering what could have been if only you had stayed.

• pairing: barista yoongi x

• genre: fluff, angst, coffee shop au, f2l

• word count: 4.2k

read here

— sarah @stopeatingwhales

Here are some of my favourite parts: Second paragraph is really beautifully written and described - love it! Paragraph 5: really beautifully written again :) ‘You found solace in the lingering smell of coffee and steamed milk stains littering your apron at the end of a long shift as you rode the bus back to your dorm, feet aching and eyelids heavy.’ I LOVE THIS I really like how Yoongi wasn’t introduced straight away, it provides more context and also creates a warm feeling overall throughout the story! :) ‘His dark eyes - the same color as melted chocolate, the sight of them leaving you as jittery as a cup of fresh coffee - were deeper than any valley or canyon you had ever seen and you often found yourself drowning in them. The deep timber of his voice easily became your favorite sound, the chime of his laughter your favorite song.’ BEAUTIFUL!!! ‘The last person you expect to find standing behind you is none other than Min Yoongi, plastic grocery bags in hand. His face is unreadable, void of any indication of what’s going on inside of his mind, or what’s going on inside of his heart.’ My heart broke I swear ‘You want him to know that for the past three years, your heart has stayed in Seoul with him.’ I can’t handle this what the hell ‘Paying it attention only seems to feed the ill feeling, the discomfort growing until it threatens to consume everything that happened to be in its path.’ Do you mean ‘paying attention to it’? ‘spreading until every last one of your nerve endings is alive and buzzing with energy’ love this

Yoongi and his refusal to let you see yourself home after you had closed up the cafe for the night, even if the sun was still making its descent in the sky, leaving the moon and stars in their wake.’ I love the repetition of ‘Yoongi’ for each paragraph - creates a really heartfelt effect ‘Some people are artists, others are the art themselves.’ IM CRYING THIS IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL PHRASE ‘It’s impossible to tell where you end and Yoongi begins.’ So cute overall, this fit was so cute and I loved every part of it ! you are a beautiful writer, i'm so astounded by your writing!

— dae @toikiii​

This was very cute!! You do an amazing job of describing the scenery and it makes me feel like i've just been dropped of into the middle of the fic. I really enjoyed the tidbits of insight to the mc's life before she moved to the US. The 8 paragraphs after "It’s easy to fall back into a rhythm" is one of my favourite sections in the fic ever. Your word choice really helps sell the atmosphere and tone of the fic.

— mei @meirkive​

I'm going to start this feedback by saying how much I loved the little metaphor related to coffee in the first paragraphs (“leaving you as jittery as a cup of fresh coffee), because it really sets the cute feeling that usually surrounds a coffee shop AU and adds to the whole atmosphere. Loved it! I think I found a couple of typos (literally two, I think), but the grammar and sentences are very good and the dialogues between characters all have a good flow. Perhaps things are written as too perfect and with little to none struggles for this story to feel 100% realistic, but in this case it works and it's very fluffy and cute. The way you described the cafe itself was just * chef's kiss * There were so many small details and you used all senses to introduce the place (what it smells like, how the baristas move around, the sounds) and THAT's how it should always be. I could perfectly visualize it, it all felt very real. Another thing I really appreciated is how you embed bits of the past and the characters memories without actually jumping in whole flashback paragraphs that may distract the reader from the main plot and just ruin the flow of the story. Especially loved how you naturally introduced some of the costumers.

On a more negative note (but that's really just my personal taste), I don't think this story should be considered as a reader insert and the constant use of Y/N kept sort of taking me out of the plot. It's really a personal matter and I don't intend on offending nor insulting your work in any way, but this “You” is too specific to be considered as an actual, generic and neutral reader insert. They have a tattoo, they have straight short hair with bangs and they're an artist. So, to me personally, it's an original character done and finished, but with no first name. Which, mind you, is far from being a bad thing (I prefer ocs over reader inserts), but I think that for somebody that doesn't have said specific characteristics, it would be hard to get into the story and relate to reader. Then again, this is a problem of about 90% of Y/N and I am very biased, since I prefer stories with proper original characters, and my intention was not to undermine your writing.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E2; Chapter Two, The Mall Rats - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Baffled with Mike's sudden behavior, El seeks out Y/n and Max for advice while Will struggles to get through to Mike and Lucas. Billy takes his co-worker on a field trip, and Steve and Dustin enlist a helpful ally in their top-secret mission.

⚠️: s3 mike wheeler, y/n and mike angst. more google translate. the reader eating ice cream [if you're lactose intolerant, it's dairy-free xp], mama steve loving and worrying about his children, his little henderson ducklings especially 🥰 *heavy sigh* oh yeah, kidnapping and more possible allegory to r*pe :( as usual, a marker will be placed but it plays till the end of the chapter so you only need one

🔑: y/f/o = your favorite [ice cream] order

📝: idk if the tip seems small or not but either way keep in mind this was the eighties so inflation hadn't gotten quite as bad yet. As far as the Mike stuff, I know he wasn't being possessive, he was just worried she would get caught and taken away or worse but also he handled it badly, and then everything else in this chapter just kinda rode that angsty bad decision train outta here lmao.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"если действовать осторожно... неделя длинная. серебряный--"

Robin pauses her pacing momentarily to point at the tape Dustin has in his hands.

"Wait, that last part, just one more time,"

The sounds of the wires hissing as they rewind fill Robin's thoughtful silence.

"если действовать осторожно... неделя--"

"Okay, that word!" She says, and Dustin quickly presses pause. "Um... it's pronounced... 'dly-nna-ya.'"

"'Dly-nna-ya'" Dustin repeats, nodding excitedly.

"Which is spelled—"

"-D... D, D, D..." Dustin mutters, springing up from his seat, scurrying towards the whiteboard as Robin grabs the book. "The— The chair! The chair-looking thingy!" He says, pointing to the Russian 'д'.

"Yeah, okay," Robin mutters excitedly, hurriedly scribbling into their notes.

The glass partition swings open with a loud clang alerting Steve at the counter.

"We've got our first sentence,"

"Oh, seriously?" He asks, turning around with two orders in his hands.

"Yeah," Robin nods. She drops her voice into a lower pitch and imitates a Russian accent. "The veek is longh,"

Steve's face falls. "Well, that's thrilling,"

"I know, but," she shrugs. "Progress."

With that, she retreats into the window and slides the door close leaving Steve to return to his ice cream slinging duties.

"Okay, here you go. You got uh, a vanilla with sprinkles and extra whipped cream and one y/f/o,"

Steve hands off the rest of the orders to El and Y/n who gladly take them. Max stood next to them, digging into the order she had already been handed. She only comes up to say 'thanks' in near sync with her friends.

"Wait a second," he says, a thoughtful look falling over his face as he frowns at El. "Are even allowed to be here?"

The girls freeze, once again pausing to share a knowing look with growing ice cream-mustached smiles and giggle. In a hurry, the three of them scurry for the door. Y/n nearly makes it before coming to a skidding halt that leaves her bouncing on one foot as she catches her balance. She runs back to the counter with a mischievous smile and a dollar in hand.

Steve watches confused as she tucks the dollar away in the tip jar, and sends him what he finds to be a childish wink.

"Keep this quiet?" She asks, and he almost laughs. But he could tell she was all too serious. "Also this is your tip! Thanks, Steve,"

Steve watches utterly baffled as she turns on her heel and makes a break for the girls waiting just outside and around the corner.

"Okay?" He says, beginning to trail off. "Wasn't gonna tell anyone anyway?"

She's nearly out the door when he realizes what her being here means. He hopes it's not too late to call after her.

"Hey, wait a sec!"

Thankfully, she hears him and turns back around. He motions her forward and while confused, she ultimately complies.

"Hey, uh, does Dustin know you're here?"

Y/n tilts her head as she thinks about it then shrugs.

"I'm not sure, why?" She asks, taking a lick of her ice cream.

Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the window but he pauses when he realizes it's better she doesn't know what he's doing here. He quickly plays it off and plants both hands on the counter to lean against it.

"I don't, uh— It's just that he came by earlier and he seemed pretty down about last night,"

Y/n's shoulders slumped immediately, her eyes widening a little.

"He did?" She winced, nibbling nervously on her lip as she looked guiltily at her ice cream. And in doing so, any budding feeling of anger and protectiveness vanishes in Steve. "It's just, he wasn't there when I left and I assumed he went with the guys to Mike's."

With the same, guilty look in her eyes, Y/n glanced over her shoulder at her waiting friends and Steve instantly regretted bringing it up. He sighs, shaking his head.

"Look, it's—"

"If he comes back, will you tell him I'm sorry?" She laughed a little, very sheepishly. "That we can guilt Mom off the TV again so we can a have a monster movie night like we used to, or something?"

In that moment Steve decides not to be honest with her and tell her he's probably still too upset for that, he just doesn't have to heart to. Nor does Steve have the guts to say it wouldn't matter anyway, that he's right in the back room decoding a top-secret Russian communication. So instead, he forces his lips into a firm line that was supposed to be a smile and nods.

"Sure thing, kid,"

She perks a little. "Thanks, Steve. I'll see ya later,"

"Alright, take care," he straightens from the counter, watching as she retreats back out of the shop. He sighs again, almost hating how soft and protective he's become, and calls after her, nodding discretely in El's direction. It all comes out in the form of annoyance, though, naturally. "And don't be stupid, alright?"

Y/n smiles in response and returns to her friends. Together, the three of them disappear into the crowd.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

One of many sets of double doors swing open as Y/n, El, and Max step back out into the sunlight.

Despite their every desires to keep their special day at the mall going, the three girls knew the bus back into town was leaving shortly. Y/n takes another quick and frantic lick of her fastly melting ice cream as Max turns to El and gestures to her strawberry ice cream cone.

"Wanna trade?"

El responds with a giggle and eagerly trades off her vanilla cone for strawberry.

"No... fair," Y/n grumbles, nearly attacking her ice cream as it turns to a puddle before her eyes. She spares only a single second glare enviously at their still freshly frozen cones while she has spent between licks.

"You're not," lick. "making your," lick. "ice cr━ shit!" two licks. "melt."

The girls giggle again, wholeheartedly amused by the sight before them.

"Shut up," another lick.

"That's ridiculous," came a nearby, all too familiar whine. "Why can't I just—"

Max's face falls into a glower, pulling Y/n and El into a stop next to her. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me."

Just across the concrete entrance, fumbling to separate their bikes from the bike stands were Mike, Lucas, and Will.

Forgetting her melting ice cream momentarily, Y/n takes a moment to sigh at the ground when she realizes whatever is about to pass, will be far from good.

"—haven't got that much," Lucas says.

"Okay, what if we split it?"

"Split it with what? Does that even make sense?"

Two of the three boys continue to bicker, completely unaware of the three angry figures making their way towards them. More specifically, two angry figures and one slightly disgusted one who tosses out her nearly finished ice cream cone and the napkin she used to wipe her hands off with in the trash cans they all pass.

"Isn't this a nice surprise?" Max asks, plastering on a smirk as the three boys and their bikes come to a halt before them.

Mike's face pales when he realizes Max had caught him, and even more so when he realizes El is with her. His bike crashes to the ground, forgotten as he gapes at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shopping." She answers matter-of-factly, her icy stare never once wavering.

"This is her new style," Max says, eyeing him carefully. "What do you think?"

"What's wrong with you?" He spits, gesturing to El. "You know she's not allowed to be here."

"What is she, your little pet?" Max fires back.

"Yeah. Am I your pet?" El asks.

"What? No!"

"Mike, she needed this," Y/n says. "Besides, you lied to her! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here either."

Mike finally turns his wild gaze to Y/n, utterly baffled at the stance she was taking.

"Are you kidding me?" He gawks, ignoring her eye roll. "You of all people should know about keeping her a secret,"

Y/n hotly takes a threatening step forward. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning you would know, you're good at hiding her,"

Everyone inched closer, apart from El who was seething at Mike. Y/n, on the other hand, scoffs loudly, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"You said you were over that!"

"Yeah, well, guess I'm not,"

She looked around quickly, her voice falling into a whispered hiss. "What, so I should be locked up all day, too?"

"Maybe!" Mike said, instantly feeling guilty.

"Mike!" Will snaps, stepping forward another few inches. And so did El, her shoulder subconsciously shielding Y/n. Shielding her from, Mike, or Mike from her, she wasn't sure.

But she knew she was livid. And hurt.

Mike sighs, putting his face into his hands and running them tiredly over his face.

"I'm sorry, that was over the line," he sighs, sounding embarrassed.

"-You're damn right it was," Y/n snapped.

"But that doesn't change the fact that she really can't be here," he corrects himself, looking El in the eye carefully. "You can't be here. It's not safe,"

"I can take care of myself," El says.

"I mean," Mike sighs again, frustrated as he trips over his own words. "you and a lot of other people could be in danger if anybody starts asking questions. I just care about you, alright? And I don't want anything to happen to you, not again,"

El shakes her head, all visible anger melting away leaving only sadness in its wake.

"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"

"What?"

"You said Nana was sick,"

The panic returns to his eyes, and he and Lucas desperately try to cover their tracks.

From over their shoulder, Y/n meets eyes with an exasperated Will, and the couple shares a look and tired shake of the head.

"She is. She is sick!"

"Yeah, sick— she's sick," Lucas nods. "She's super sick. And that's why we're here, actually."

Y/n silently meets Will's eye again and makes out the subtle firm line he presses his lips into and the small shake of his head 'no'.

Oblivious to Will, the two continue.

"Yeah, w-we're shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana,"

"For Nana."

"Also," Mike sighs, giving El an earnest look. "we're here to get a gift for you. It's just, we couldn't find anything that suited you and I only have, like, $3.50, so it's hard."

"-super hard." Lucas sighs, giving an honest, apologetic look to all three of them. "It's— It's expensive,"

"Speaking of," came Will's, softened voice. "Here ya go. Sorry it's not real,"

He takes a step forward and sheepishly offers the small goodie bag to Y/n. Everyone watches confused and almost a little intrigued as Y/n takes it curiously. Quickly, she dives her gaze and hand into the baggie and smiles as she pulls out the small y/f/f candy ring.

"Oh, a ring pop?" She flashes Will a beaming smile as she rips open the package and slips it on her finger. "Thanks, Will,"

He nods happily, completely relieved she was this happy to get one.

Y/n's smile drops instantly when she remembers what they're interrupting and she quiets, clearing her throat a little.

"Sorry," she mumbled, sending an especially sorry look to El as her hand graces her shoulders in a gentle apology.

El sends her a weak smile, eyes falling back down. Sadly, she looks to her ice cream and then deeply into Mike's eyes as the day's events all come crashing down on her. And it's with great disappointment she realizes what has hurt her, and what hasn't.

She shakes her head softly, the disappointment evident on her face now more than ever.

"You lie," she says finally, all the more saddened to see Mike squirm under her gaze, only confirming her words. El shakes her head again. "Why do you lie?"

She waits and waits and when Mike can't give an answer, the screech of the bus's tires in the distance tells her a decision must be made. And it's with a seething glare, El makes up her mind.

Everyone watches carefully in silence as she takes three tantalizing steps until she's staring up at Mike. He's frozen, as is everyone else as he fears her next words. And he has every reason to.

"I dump your ass."

Y/n's eyes find Will's once again, this time, regret clouding them when she realizes. Tonight was meant to be spent at his house, dinner with him, Jonathan, and Joyce at least but it seems the day had different plans in mind. She stood rooted to the spot, her lips parted in shock as she processed what had just happened.

She detected sadness in Will's eyes, as she was used she had in her own but reality came crashing down, breaking her from her spell.

"I'm sorry," she sputters, more so to Will than Mike and Lucas. "I didn't think she would," she breathes.

"What?" Mike's widened eyes land on her, flickering between her and El's retreating figure. "Did you tell her to do this?"

"Of course not!" She said, eyes darting between him and Lucas sympathetically. "But it's still their decision. I'm sorry. I am,"

"Y/n! You coming?"

Y/n looked over her shoulder to find El and Max moving up the line, nearly ready to board. From there, El looked between Y/n and Mike, as if she were worried Mike would take it out on Y/n more. Y/n gave her friend a weak, reassuring smile and turned back to the guys.

Will specifically.

"I'm sorry," she said to Will, beginning to back away even though she didn't really want to leave him. "But I think I need to be with them right now. Is it okay if we take a rain check?"

Will smiled, nodding and she felt a fresh wave of guilt. She could have sworn she saw a hint of sadness but if it was ever there, he had buried it for her sake.

In a spur of the moment, she ran forward and planted a kiss on his lips before pulling back. She shot Lucas and Mike a lingering look, not really knowing what to feel for them in the moment.

And then she took off.

The three friends stood baffled, reeling from how much everything had changed so quickly. Their legs kicked into gear and followed the crowds to the bus but the doors had just swung closed. From where they stood at the curb, they could make out three familiar lingering silhouettes from behind the tinted windows, all piling in together.

Max had nabbed the window seat, El seating herself next to her. It was only a matter of moments before Y/n had joined them, plopping herself in the seat directly behind them. She peeked out over the low backs of their seats, wedged right in between them with a breathless look.

For just that moment, the three best friends sat there in stunned silence before breaking into a breathless laugh.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun had set behind even the lowest of valleys, bathing the town in a pale glow and unforgiving chill that couldn't be quenched even on the hottest days of summer. Starcourt mall was alive in every way but one; the hum of the neon lights reached every corner, but the mall had long since closed leaving it a beautiful, vibrant wasteland.

The only remaining occupants were tucked away in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, standing before a whiteboard facing the daring truth they had worked so hard to uncover. In perfect sync, they read the words aloud with confusion muddling their brains and exhaustion filling their systems.

"The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west."

Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand before the translation willing something to make sense. But all they were left with when they turned in for the night, closing the grated metal gate that went with closing up shop was utter bafflement.

"I mean, it just..." Steve sighs into the ground, the keys in his hand turning in the lock. "It just can't be right."

"It's right," Robin assures. When Steve returns to his feet the three of them begin their lazy journey to the exit.

"Honestly, I think this is great news," Dustin shrugs.

"How is this great news?" Steve chuckles bitterly. I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It has to be a code."

Steve's face screws up into a puzzled pout. "What do you mean, a code?"

"Like a super-secret spy code,"

"That's a total stretch,"

"I don't know, is it?" Robin scoffs.

"You're buying into this?"

"Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, 'Fire the warhead at noon'?"

"Exactly," Dustin gestures, his gaze returning up to Steve to see the gears spinning in his head.

"And my translation is correct," Robin assures. "I know that for sure, so... 'The silver cat feeds'. Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the true meaning of their message?"

"Exactly!"

"And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the true meaning of their message was somehow sensitive?"

By now, Dustin was rubbing his triumphant smirk in Steve's face. "Exactly."

"So I guess that confirms your suspicion," Robin says, looking to Dustin who remains triumphant.

"Evil Russians,"

Robin wears a tired smile as she looks back at Steve with a dry chuckle. "I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians."

"So how do we crack it?" Dustin asks, flashing his charming toothless grin her way.

"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges."

"A pattern. Right, like maybe 'silver cat' is a meeting place?"

"Or a person."

"Or a weapon,"

"It's probably gonna take a super genius to track it, but..." Robin trails off when she notices she is one dingus short. "Where's Steve?"

The new duo spin on their heels where they spot their missing friend a few yards down. He had a frown screwed onto his face as he stood in front of one of the many kiddie rides, his hands diving into his pockets no doubt searching for coins. Sure enough, the clinking of coins rattling together as he purs them out in his palm confirms their suspicions.

"Hey, Steve," Robin calls, her empty hand swinging limply out in a puzzled gesture. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, it's," Steve doesn't bother answering her question and the only time he picks his eyes up off his hands is to check the mechanical horse for its cost. "a quarter. I need--" he mumbles to himself, looking hopefully to his friends. "Do you have a quarter?"

Despite her confusion, Robin lets out a chuckle, and she and Dustin quickly shuffle over to Steve's side. "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"

"Quarter!" He yells, jumping forward to catch the coin Robin flipped out for him.

He catches it with a clumsy spin and drops his knees to insert it into the ride. They watch was Steve remains huddled on the ground, a funny look on his face as the ride begins. Robin can't resist poking fun, and does with little strain on her voice to be heard over the music.

"You need help getting up, little Stevie?"

"Shh-shh! Shh!" Steve snaps, gesturing to the galloping horse. More specifically the music it plays. "Would you two just shut up and listen?"

Robin and Dustin are almost shocked at his seriousness, but the smile remains on Dustin's face from Robin's comment. That is until it eventually slips off his face when he realizes why the familiar tune being played before them was so familiar.

"Holy shit," he breathes, locking eyes with a grave-looking Steve. Dustin looks to Robin, helping her to connect the dots as he begins shedding his backpack from his shoulders. "The music,"

He had heard it all day. They all had while translating the tape. The very tune Steve had been complaining so much about.

"The music!" Dustin cries again, dropping to his knees as he desperately fishes his bag for the tape.

How had he not recognized it? Y/n and him used to ride the Indiana Flyer at the fair as soon as they were old enough. And then the caricell, over and over every year until they were old enough to ride the bigger rides. And even then, the tune carried out across the Fun Fair where it could be heard from as far as the top of the Ferris wheel. The two of them would drag their mother every year. It was the sound of his childhood.

Dustin presses play on the tape, and as he gazes up at Robin, silently pleading for the dots to connect the sound of the song on the tape is louder than Russian for the first time all day.

But Robin only shrugs between them.

"I don't understand,"

"It's the exact same song on the recording,"

"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"

"The 'Indiana Flyer'? I don't..." Steve shakes his head. The look on his face made clear he wished he was wrong. He looked... unsettled. "I don't think so. This code, it... it didn’t come from Russia."

And they that unease. They could feel it settling into their chests, making their hearts beat a little faster and their stomach twisting up into knots at what he said next.

"It came from here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The roads are empty, even still. Crickets sing into the night and the steady breeze taking itself through Hawkins back roads are momentarily swept up with the leaves when a lone Chevrolet Camaro pulls into Brimborne. The lot remained abandoned, seemingly, other than the figure stepping out of the car, with sweat on his brow.

The summer sun had set hours ago, taking the searing heat with it. But the humidity that clung to the air felt to be Billy like he was sitting far too close to an open fire. But still, he lumbers to the trunk where the reason for his being here lies.

The latch opens with a loud clunk, and the trunk lid opens slowly. His eyes find the contents immediately, as does the murky light from the trunk bulb onto his face.

She was still unconscious.

A foreign voice in his brain — the one who had brought them both here, the one to have put here — spoke up again without permission. And yet, it didn't exactly speak in words, but feelings. And all that shot to the surface was one thing — one word.

Good.

It was Billy who couldn't stop thinking about it. What he had done. The small part of him that fought.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

Among the pain, Billy feels tears building up inside him when he realizes what that tug in his gut is ordering him to do. He can also feel it happening again. He can feel himself slipping away, just as he had when he fled for the showers. But this time he fought it.

God, he fought it so hard.

But it wasn't enough.

His nails dug into the flesh of his knees that he had been clutching so tightly to his chest. That and the tears racing down his cheeks now blending with the water were the last things to happen that were truly Billy's doing.

"Billy, are you okay—?"

The last thing Billy sees before he loses control is his hand lunging for Heather's throat. His iron grip locks her in a chokehold and her hands fly to his. Desperately she claws at his hands, her nails raking into his skin but he never flinches. She feels her feet leave the ground, her toes grazing the tile floor as he picks her up and pins her to the stall doors.

Her widened, fearful eyes look deep into his but all she finds as he rips the curtain closed is the lack of human emotion within him. His eyes were hollow, the whites of his eyes running black and they are the last thing she sees before unconsciousness overtakes her.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

She's limp in his arms as he carries her throughout the darkness of Brimborne whose only source of light is moonlight spilling through the dirtied glass window panes hanging high above. He walks with all the time in the world, his eyes dead set on the last place Billy ever wanted to see again. The only sound to be heard within miles was the scuffle of his rubber soles scraping against the dirt and leaves sprinkled across the concrete.

The scratchy thumps of his boots turn to metal echoes as he disappears down the darkened stairwell. From there, inky blackness like the sludge coursing through his veins is all that can be seen. Little moonlight has survived the journey through the grated floor, but there was enough to illuminate Heather's body that he places onto the cement floor.

Soft, discomforted groans break through the duct tape over her mouth as she comes to. She rolls onto her back, confused as to why she feels pain in her head and cement digging into her spine.

But everything she needs to know becomes all too clear almost instantly when she sees Billy's hollowed eyes staring down at her from where he's perched above her. Panic sets in, and as she realizes all too late why she is unable to move her hands or feet. That doesn't stop Heather from trying as she fights against the restraints, eager to use her dried-out voice.

Her breath is knocked loose when Billy throws her back into the ground after she managed to sit up even an inch.

He keeps a small majority of his weight on her shoulders as he leans in close, his breath on her ear.

"Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."

Tears tickle her temple when they escape her eyes. She prays for many things, but she'll even settle for the small possibility the sweat collecting on her skin is enough to weaken the tape on her mouth. Then maybe, just maybe she can scream for help.

"Just stay very still."

This specific hope fizzles away, drowning in her own confusion when, without moving his head, he looks to her and slowly peels the tape off of her lips.

She's too shocked to do anything. Too afraid. But she wasn't prepared to let that stop her. Heather was going to do something, she had to. She would.

But that all died when Billy suddenly stood up, looking almost disinterested in her as an eery, unnatural sound reverberates throughout the darkness before her. Slowly, her head turns to face the dark abyss when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.

His face is as hard as stone though his eyes hold a flicker of struggle and pain when it all unfolds. Heather may be the only one in binding, but she is not the only one who is trapped. There is nothing at all Billy can do but watch as the large and bloodied mass of flesh stomps forward from the shadows, ready to feast.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

68 Ways To Donate in Support Of Asian Communities - [link]

FSFAPV Justice: "community family coalition that offers help and justice to families in the Twin Cities and nationwide that have lost loved ones to police violence" - [link]

30 Organizations That Are Boosting African American Educational Achievement - [link]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[heyyyharry]

"you drew stars around my scars but now i’m bleeding”

(a blurb from the My Girl Series)

…in which Y/N tells herself this is the last time.

Warning: SMUT (car sex)

Word count: 2.8k

AU: older!harry (4-year age gap), actor!harry, childhood best friends, friends with benefits.

“DON’T CALL ME KID! DON’T CALL ME BABY! LOOK AT THIS GODFORSAKEN MESS THAT YOU MADE ME!” 😔 inspired by folklore.

.

.

.

“Did anyone see you leave?”

“No,” Harry said, leaning back and spreading his legs as she worked his zip down. She’d been thinking about this all day, but he didn’t have to know that. If men knew how much you wanted them, they’d only want you less At least that was from her personal experience.

She took his cock out of his pants, fingers curling over the smooth, hot skin of his shaft and sliding up to tease at the edge of his foreskin. The head of Harry’s prick was already slick, and she sucked his precum off her fingers before licking her palm and stroking and squeezing around him until he whimpered. They had done this so many times that she knew his body even better than he did. She knew how to work him up, how to run her thumb over the head of his cock so he’d buck into her grip and whimper her name. But she didn’t want to hurry.

She struggled a bit to get her pants off, hating that they were in the backseat of his car instead of her place or his. They’d usually meet at hers, but her neighbour was having a party tonight; it’d be impossible for Harry to come and go without being recognised and photographed. But she didn’t need a fancy hotel room or a comfortable bed, because they were just hooking up. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Should have worn a blood dress,” she muttered, fighting her bunched-up jeans and kicking them under the front seat.

Harry laughed, but as soon as she peeled off her damp panties, his breath caught and his nostrils flared. She knew his car would smell like them at the end of the night when he drove home alone, and something about that erotic thought turned her on even more.

She gracefully slid into his lap. His hand slipped down to stroke at the silky heat of her pussy, two fingers opening her up, spreading her slick and rubbing at her clit until she began to tremble. She clutched his wrist to still him so she wouldn’t come on his fingers then kissed him before he could say a word. She bit his lip, curled her free hand into his messy hair, and moved her hips so she could rub the thick crown of his cock against her.

She’d been on the pill lately, so it was easy to just grab for his dick and guide it into her. He loved it when she told him how big he was, how full she made her feel, murmuring filthy words into his ear as he fucked her, hard and fast, flushed with the praise. But when they were as horny as they were tonight, she didn’t have to say anything; she couldn’t. Her mouth hung open without making a sound as she felt the first, deep, blunt push of his cock into her pussy. It always ached a little no matter how many times they’d had sex. He always stretched her so good, but she was too wet to need a pause.

“God, I missed you,” he hissed, filling her to the brim as she settled into his lap. She tried to ignore the effect those words had on her, and to not wonder if he really missed her or only what she was willing to give him.

She clung onto his neck and shoulders and clenched down as his hand went under her thighs, lifting her, moving her on the length of his cock. The head slid over her g-spot, and she gasped and ground harder against him. His fingers clenched around the backs of her thighs as he let her set the pace and planted sloppy kisses down the side of her neck. He nuzzled her hair out of the way and made small noises against her hot skin.

She rode him faster, snapping her hips against his and making him moan. She wondered if they were shaking the car and somehow felt thankful for the fact that the car park was empty. They weren’t trying to keep it lowkey anymore.

Harry whispered her name as his fingers dug into her thighs. She can feel his dick flexing inside her. She knew he was close. He always waited on her like a true gentleman, and she kissed him clumsily as she slid a hand down to rub at her clit.

What shoved her to the edge was the way Harry groaned and bit his lip as her moving fingers brushed the base of his cock. His hips jerked, and they were both so close for each other. Her slick pussy started pulsing as she sobbed into his mouth and he squeezed her tighter, so tight she could feel his fingernails leaving marks in the soft flesh of her thighs. She would go home alone with those marks as a reminder of this moment, and she’d either feel bad about it or want him even more. Usually both.

“Yes, baby, come for me.”

And those were the words that set her off. Him calling her baby was her ultimate weakness, even if it might not mean anything to him. His thrusts were getting faster, messier, driving into the tight clench of her as she cried out and ground her hips. She shuddered against him as she came again.

“Gonna,” he whispered, his hips stuttering and his fingers tightened, and then he was spurting hotly into her, filling her up until his come was trickling back down over his balls. She was already thinking of the way he’d have to tug his coat close just in case he ran into the paps. Meanwhile, she would go back to her flat still feeling the hot pulse of him having been in her. Everything about it was dirty, and she loved it.

Harry rested his head back as she started nipping at the side of his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath her lips. “That was...so good,” she said, still breathless.

“I know.” He gave a soft laugh which turned to a groan as she slipped off his still-hard, sensitive cock. She grabbed his face and pulled his lips back to hers. His hands burned against her back, drawing her close.

They’d had sex, again. And he still wanted her.

She had no idea why she must reassure herself that he wanted her every single time they were together. Perhaps because this felt surreal. Because if she told her teenage self that someday she’d be having sex with Harry in the backseat of his car, that girl would not believe it. In her memory, Harry had always been untouchable. Yet here he was, burying his face into her neck and inhaling her scent as if she were air. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest. This felt real. Even though she knew it was anything but.

“Kid.”

His voice snapped her back to reality. Her eyes flinched open and she saw his face twisted with worry as he took her wrist and removed her arm around his neck.

Her heart wavered at the thought that he’d finally decided that this was wrong and wanted to end this. Wouldn’t it be cruel? To say he didn’t want this anymore after he’d just finished inside her? Would he tell her to get out of the car and leave her here all on her own?

To her surprise and confusion, he lifted her arm, still catching his breath. That was when she realized he was peering at the scars on her forearm. “How did you get these?” he asked.

“I fell.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago.” She giggled. “It’s no big deal. I was running for the bus and the pavement was slippery.”

Harry frowned. His gaze slipped from hers as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the scar. Her heart leapt involuntarily. And she hated herself for it.

“Remember when I used to draw stars around your scars,” he whispered, his dimples darkening in the dim streetlight. The memory of the happier days warmed her from inside out, and she felt it showing on her face.

“Because I said my legs looked ugly after my bike accident,” she said timidly.

“You fell a lot back then.” Harry looked up, his forehead creasing as if he was trying to remember one of those times. “I thought you’d get less clumsy when you grew up but I guess I was wrong.”

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You can always draw stars around my new scars.”

“Or,” he kissed the corner of her mouth, “you can stop running in the rain.”

She laughed as she kissed him again and pretended that they weren’t in the backseat of his car in an empty car park, that they didn’t have to sneak around, that whatever she was feeling right now was valid, that he would rather be with her than go back to the world where she did not belong.

And so they finished cleaning up and laughing for a whole minute about the stain on his crotch. As she pulled her jeans back on and he adjusted his clothes, what had felt like a euphoric rush now felt like shame and a bit of regret. She shrugged it right off. It was normal. No one should be proud if they had to drive to a place like this to have sex just so they wouldn’t be seen together.

Then, the thought of them being seen together briefly crossed her mind. How would he react if the world found out? Would he be ashamed? Would he end this? Or would he say fuck it and risk it all for her?

She twisted her hair into a low bun, secured it with her scrunchie and turned to face him. To her surprise, he was giving that goofy dimpled smile that her thirteen-year-old self would write ten pages about in her journal. It was funny how he’d always been so close yet always felt a thousand miles away. She knew she was his girl, but had he ever been hers?

She reached up to fix his hair, only using it as an excuse to run her fingers through it. He took another glance at her scars and frowned a bit, which made her wonder why they bothered him so much. Was he finally paying attention to her imperfections?

“Have you got a pen?” he asked.

She looked at him funny but still answered, “Yeah, I always carry one around to take notes.” Then she reached for her bag in the passenger seat, fumbled for her black pen and gave it to him.

He clicked the pen open and scooted closer, tucking her arm under his as he held onto her wrist and carefully drew stars around her scars.

“Really?” she giggled, and he shushed her.

“Don’t move. Do you want ugly stars?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, baby, when I’m done, you’ll want to get ‘em tattooed.”

Her smile thinned as a chill coursed through her. He needed to warn her before calling her baby. It did inexplicable things to her; things she wasn’t so proud of.

“There you go,” he said and clicked the pen close with a victorious smirk upon his face.

She peered at the stars he’d drawn and raised both eyebrows. “Not bad.”

“Hey, I’m twenty-four years old. I should draw better than when I was thirteen,” he said with a shrug, laced their fingers together and kissed the back of her hand, as one would to their girlfriend. Why was she thinking of that word right now? What had gotten into her? She wasn’t this person.

The sound of a text broke the silence in the car and Harry groaned loudly before fumbling into the pocket of his coat draped around the driver’s seat. He unlocked the screen, the bright light illuminating his face. His dimples deepened as he read the message and typed something into his phone. She heard a whoosh of the message being sent, then a ding of a new one arriving. The serenity of their own world had been intruded by this person who was texting him.

She didn’t want to care who it was, who made him smile and shake his head and bite his lip as he thought of something to write back to make the person smile, too. She didn’t want to care if he was going to see this person once he’d dropped her off. She didn’t want to know if he’d wake up alone tomorrow or in bed with a beautiful woman. That wasn’t how their ‘thing’ was supposed to work. She was supposed to mind her own business. But she wasn’t to blame, for he wasn’t supposed to draw stars around her scars, kiss them like he meant it, and called her ‘kid’ and ‘baby’ as if this was special.

It wasn’t.

She wasn’t.

“It’s late,” he said and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans. It’s not late, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. “I’ll drive you home.”

She felt the urge to ask if he had other plans later. The question lingered at her throat, yet she swallowed it down.

“I can walk home,” she said, putting on her coat as he’d already put on his and seemed so eager to get rid of her.

“Alone? At this hour?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Kid, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you.”

“It’s too risky,” she sighed. “I bet that most of my neighbour’s party guests are just arriving. His parties usually last all night long.”

She’d almost used it as an excuse to spend the rest of the night with Harry. She guessed it wasn’t happening now. She could either let him drive her home to get some more time with him or be smart about this and not put themselves in danger of being seen together. They weren’t so far from her block and she didn’t mind walking.

“I can’t let you walk home alone at night, Bambi,” he said. There was the same tone that her father would use. Moments like this reminded her that he was older and she would always be just a kid to him.

“Fine. I’ll call Alice to pick me up.”

Alice was her co-worker. But of course, she wasn’t going to bother Alice.

Harry studied her expression for a long moment as if to check if she was lying. Surprisingly, he believed her, or he had no choice but to believe her so he could leave as fast as he could.

“All right,” he said, leaned in and kissed her forehead, his lips hot against her skin. “Call me when you get home safe, okay?”

“Okay.” She pressed her lips into a smile and got out of the car.

Harry insisted on waiting until Alice arrived, but she threatened him with the fact that Alice was a big fan of his, and she’d be the last person who should find out about their “thing”, whatever this was. So Harry left first. The pained expression that he gave her before he drove off somehow made her feel reassured. Or was she just looking for any sign that showed that he cared about her more than he appeared to be?

Tearing her gaze from the empty street, she secured her bag on her shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. As she walked home, she kept pulling up her sleeve to check if the stars Harry had drawn were still there. She knew she’d have to wash them off later in the shower. Still, she wanted to keep them as good as new for as long as they lasted.

The longer she looked at them, however, the heavier her heart became. She could not help but recall the feeling she’d had when he’d kissed them, and guilt washed over her as her heart started sinking to the bottom of her chest. And so she told herself this would be the last time, that she’d not answer his call ever again. No more secret meetings and false hopes and daydreaming. If she didn’t want to bleed, she should stop running in the rain.

But there was something about running in the rain – the excitement, the longing, the feeling of being washed clean even though you’d arrived home shivering, drenched, and covered in mud. And so she knew this wouldn’t be the last time. She’d keep running until she fell and could not get up.

[artisqueer]

RetroBangBoy AU - My Time, Finale (ao3)

Word Count: 6.8k

Pairings: Jungkook x reader, OT7 x reader, ft namkook, namjin, taekook.

Warnings: Language, brief mentions of violence, death and alcohol.

“…oh yes, so pretty, Dear. Whoever receives this must be very special,” the old woman says as she wraps a small item for one of your classmates.

You peer over their shoulder to get a look. It’s a marbly bracelet. Each glass bead resembles a colorful beach stone, with one long pendant carved in the shape of a crescent moon. It's very pretty and must hold great significance. The classmate bows to the woman and turns around to leave.

Your eyes meet.

“Jungkook??”

His widened eyes match yours twice over.

Jungkook is on this trip too? But he’s a greaser…How did I not see this one coming!

  Field Observation #6: You are not doing a good job avoiding boy drama, Bighead.

��“Hi, big—I mean, Y/N…” Jungkook stammers. A camellia-hue blushes at his round cheeks as he moves aside for you to set your items on the counter. He drops his gaze down to his shoes and his long hair falls over his face.

The tone of surprise in your voice echoes in your ears. You cringe at yourself, hoping Jungkook didn’t notice and take offense. It just never occurred to you that Jungkook is the academic type. You round off the reasons in your head. He’s a greaser and rides in Joon’s motorcycle gang, you’ve never shared a class or seen him study, he’s always dressed like a punk and has skipped every school event ever, and, and… when you went on that date to the drive-in movie he never mentioned school. You get a flashback of him making out with the french fries and drinking two chocolate milkshakes. He had no interest in you at all.

Did he really keep this persona from you? That he’s so… cool?

The lady looks from you to Jungkook and back to you, very clearly enticed by the tension. You scramble out of the awkwardness, trying to make light talk. Jin made it so easy.

“How have you been? I didn’t see you on the bus earlier or else I would have—" you ramble on, quickly paying for your items.

“It’s OK. I tend to lay low. I was in the back…on the bus, I mean. Rode here with Tae, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

The old woman slides a small card across the counter. “For the ring, Dear,” she gestures to the small ring in your hand and smiles at you both tenderly. “It’s from the future, so use it well.” She gives you a wink. (mood rings first appeared in 1970)

You tuck the small card into your jacket pocket along with your tangerines and slide the ring onto your middle finger. You both bow to the old woman and walk out of Yeongjusan House with your souvenirs in tow. Once outside, the ring changes color from amber to yellow.

“Oh, you rode with Tae? Is that…OK?” you pose curiously.

“What, because we’re into different subcultures?” he chuckles from behind his messy long hair. His voice is always so quiet speaking to you like if he used his full volume he could break something, or someone. “Pfft, Bighead really,” he continues, “I wonder how you even got nominated for this retreat.” He laughs as he runs away. You make to playfully hit his arm but miss as he pulls away with excellent reflexes, giggling behind his tiny travel bag while you gawk at the size of his arms. There’s no way. What do greasers, eat??? It’s like their muscles just pop out at the most inconvenient times, like right now.  

“I thought greasers and jocks hate each other. It’s kind of the point. Having different class backgrounds and all…” You kick some tall grass.

“That’s a stereotype, Bighead. Just because an ideology is popular in a group doesn’t mean we all believe it. Tae isn’t like most jocks, he’s…different.” Jungkook’s smile seems to be the only thing visible behind his shaggy rockabilly.

“So you guys are…friends?” You ask hesitantly.

“I guess,” he plays with his tattooed fingers. “He’s been helping me with a project, so we’ve been hanging out a lot lately. But,” he pouts, “my gang doesn’t really know.”

“About the project or Taehyung?”

“Well, both,” he laughs nervously, “it’s a bit complicated.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and you notice the pulsing veinery dancing from his knuckles up to his forearms. Damn.

He doesn’t seem ready to talk about it. You clear your throat and change the subject. “Well, we have half an hour before the next group activity. Want a tangerine? It’s grown locally! ” You chuck one to him and he catches it with both hands.

You settle on the hillside, a shady patch of grass overlooking the northern face of the island.

“So,” you say between peels of the tiny fruit, “what subject were you nominated for?”

“Physics. I don’t usually participate in school stuff,” he stares down his tangerine, “but I really want to see the caves.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a ribbon. You stop peeling to watch him gather his hair and tie it up. When did it get so long? Now you can finally see his big eyes.

“Huh? Caves?” you weren’t listening because you were distracted by his beautiful side profile. What is it with these nerds and their caves?

Jungkook returns your gaze. “Have you heard of the Bermuda Triangle?” he says with big round eyes sparkling. He gets up and approaches the flat rock next to you. With one swift motion, he jumps and lands on top of it, no hands. Core strength. He stretches his arms above his head and his shirt rides up a bit. From your position on the ground, a glimpse of the unobtrusive trail below his navel invites your mind to fantasies of a very different kind of field trip. He looks down at you sweetly, waiting for your reply.

You shake your head, “I’m more of a biologist. Educate me?”

He gestures for you to join him up on the rock. Though Jungkook made it look easy, the climb for you is much more grueling. He lifts you up with the strength of one arm until you’re shoulder to shoulder. You try to get breath into your lungs without seeming too obvious. Struggling, your nostrils flare and the wind picks up. It carries hints of his musk and sweat. You can’t help but inhale deeply until his fragrance fills you with assurance. Glancing down at your hand, you notice the ring is bluish-green but you can’t recall what the card said.

The bluish-green ocean on the horizon looks like the perfect backdrop for Jungkook’s physics lesson. He starts, “Eight years ago, ships started disappearing out in the western sea. First a small fishing boat, then a big cargo ship, it didn’t matter how big or how many people. They just, vanished. No bodies, no debris, no trace. No one could explain the missing wreckage, so the papers wrote about violent storms to give the families of the lost some closure, something to blame. Only, it would happen again, within the exact same coordinates…The Bermuda Triangle. I think I have a theory. It can be explained with physics, the magnetic field, more specifically. Some physicists believe there’s something special about the Bermuda Triangle’s location in the magnetic field. There are believed to be other places like Bermuda,” Jungkook looks from you to the coast, “and one of them is here.”

“You mean, the legend of the caves? Where the pirates disappeared? I thought it’s just a local myth…"

“There’s more to it than the legend.” He leans in and whispers, “The government’s studying it closely too.”

“What,” you chortle loudly, “the government is funding myth-busters?”

Jungkook’s face is serious af. “It’s not a myth, Bighead. The Republic of Korea started building a naval base here in 1933.” He points to the east. The tall glass building of the research facility can be seen from here, shimmering in unnatural contrast to everything else on the island. You squint.

  Field Observation #7: You definitely need specs..and to read more news.

 Jungkook continues, “They started planning a naval base on the island some years ago. Construction started in Gangjeong village right over there,” he points west to the ferry docks where you first arrived. “The base was designed to be a mixed military-commercial port so that it could handle ferries, cruise ships, and…warships and submarines.” 

“Why would they want a naval base here? It’s just a quiet little sanctuary…” you say as you both sit down on the rock.

He rests his arms over his knees. “That’s exactly what the local villagers said. They were strongly opposed to it. Many worried that the private lab was doing experiments hazardous to the environment. They organized many protests, but in the end, they could only slow down the process. The military moved in with force and built the complex anyway.”

“But that’s like, totally against everything this retreat is about. What about all these scientists working at the conservatory, aren’t they here to study wildlife and protect it?”

“Where do you think their funds come from, Y/N? The lab is backed by the military, which means everything they do is government research.”

“How do you know all this?”

“It’s the subject of my research.” He looks around again, the bun atop his head bobbing side to side. “That’s what Tae has been helping me with.”

“Jungkook, I don’t understand. What’s Tae helping you expose the lab for? What do you think they are hiding?” You stare down his side profile. He bites his bottom lip with his bunny teeth.

“It’d become very dangerous for you if you knew,” he reaches to fix your wind-tousled hair. “Trust me.”

  Field Observation #8: Don’t trust men, unless they are Jungkook.

 He gives you a warm, reassuring smile. “Let’s get going now, we don’t wanna miss the next activity.”

 ***

 The chaperones lead everyone down the hill for the next activity on schedule. The Butterfly House.

Jin has not returned yet, you’re starting to miss his chaotic antics. At the front of the crowd, Professor Choi is desperately trying to get the class’s attention. Several stern scientists are hovering on the side, waiting for silence so they can deliver the welcome introduction. Once it quiets down, two of the scientists give a run-through on the Butterfly House rules. Among them, it is expected that all students keep their touching to a minimum and especially, keep out of the restricted areas marked by red fence. Hunger strikes your tummy, and you wish Jin were here to cure it with his magic snack bag. A nudge to your rib sends you out of your daydream. You turn to your side. Jungkook has a giant butterfly resting on the tip of his nose. Its shimmery blue wings gently tilting up and down. Jungkook is still, afraid it will fly away. You giggle at the sight of him holding the breath in his cheeks.  

The class breaks off into groups to tour the facility.

“Good Afternoon, students. Welcome to our 30-by-15-meter glass atrium.” Your group leader reads off a script as student’s heads tilt back to observe the magnificent architecture above. “We are proud to receive you as guests of the first walk-through butterfly habitat in the eastern hemisphere. It first opened in 1957, so you are the first scholars to visit. Inside these walls, you will find some 500 free-flying butterflies of up to 25 different species. There are about 15,000 to 20,000 known species of butterflies found worldwide and many yet to be discovered. You may find swallowtails and birdwings, brightly colored, or camouflaged among the plants.  Some might be difficult to spot, as butterflies can be as small as 3 mm, but can also be as large as 304 mm….”

A small butterfly floats past the guide’s shoulder and rests on it. “Ah, a Sasakia charonda, the great purple emperor. Native to the Korean Peninsula, Japan, China, and northern Taiwan, and Vietnam. As we see, butterflies can be orange, white, black, and even purple. However, they cannot see how beautiful they look because butterflies can only see red, green, and yellow. The journey to becoming a butterfly is always an inspiring tale.” The guide struggles to find their place on the script.

You tilt your head back and stare in awe, the scale of technology here is incredible. Your biologist brain buzzes with millions of questions. How did they replicate a tropical rainforest like this in 1958? Are there places like this in Japan too, or perhaps the United States? The facility is lush with amazon trees and exotic plants. It’s so dense. Thousands of vines cover the floors and wrap around the trees. Layers of moss and countless species of flora and fauna lie in the shaded canopies. Vines dominating the taller trees cross overhead, reaching over through air to dominate the other side. Some climb so high they span the atrium’s glass ceiling, where the sunlight pours in strongest. An astonishing vision of Darwin’s theory of natural selection.

The guide has found their place in the script and begins reading. “There are, um, four cycles of the butterfly’s life. A butterfly starts out as an egg. Then it hatches into a caterpillar, called the larva. The larva goes into a cocoon called the pupa stage, and finally, emerges as an adult butterfly free to spread their wings and fly. We have a display with pupa ready to hatch, please follow me…” The students clamor excitedly after the guide, who disappears down the pathway in the thick greenery.

Yelps can be heard in the distance as students and chaperones alike encounter all sorts of buzzing insects. You duck below the low-hanging vines. One thing they forgot to mention is the climate control in here. Somehow, the air in the atrium is kept very humid to mimic that of the Amazon rainforest. After a while, the moisture in the air becomes nearly suffocating. Jungkook, however, seems to be doing just fine. Suddenly, he reaches for your hand and clasps it in his, clammy.

“Look, there’s Jin!” you almost yell. Your hands are torn apart as you run over to the fence. Jin is working on the other side in a glass office. His face is buried in an apparatus that looks something like an advanced microscope. Dozens of flasks, books, and petri dishes are strewn across the bench before him. He looks like he’s busy.

“This area’s off-limits. I don’t think we can interrupt him.” Jungkook tugs at your sleeve. You expel air and look back at Jungkook to find that the blue butterfly has returned. Right atop his head, it sits, flitting its wings as Jungkook scrunches his nose. The butterfly doesn’t budge.

“Looks like Morpho adonis.” The angelic voice comes from behind you.

Jungkook rolls his eyes with the butterfly still on his head.

“Jin! You looked really preoccupied. What are you working on over there?” you indicate the room guarded by the fence.

“Oh, just some plant cell assays. They think they discovered a new species of moss in a cavern, so I’m helping look at samples. It’s promising. I’m running the RNA against the ones from my own research. If it matches, the cave is likely the one they’ve been looking for, a habitable location for—well, uh it’s confidential. Sorry, you understand.” His smile is still so genuine even when he’s withholding secret government information.

Jungkook tenses at the mention of “caves”.

“Have you seen it?” he asks.

“Seen what?” Jin returns.

“The cave. Have you been there?” Jungkook’s hands are shaking a little, so you move closer by his side and take his hand.

Jin’s eyes follow the movements of your hands. Just like they did back at the library the first time you met.

“I haven’t, no.” He lies.

“Sorry Choco, I’ll have to join you again tomorrow. Professor Moon asked for my help and it seems like it's going to take the rest of the evening. I’m sure Jungkook will keep you company for dinner in my place?” He gives you another sweet smile, but it has a bitter undertone. Much like Namjoon, when he had seen you with Yoongi’s jacket on that weird day.

  Field Observation #9: Stop reading between the lines, they don’t like you like that.

 “Before you both go—Jungkook, I have something for you,” Jin rolls up the sleeves of his lab coat and steps back into the room before returning.

He holds his hands out and you both peer down at the delicate thing sitting in his palms.

“What is it?” Jungkook nudges.

“Juniperus shimpaku,” Jin beams, “a bonsai.”

You watch Jin place the small tree in Jungkook’s outstretched hands.

“Give it to Namjoon, as my peace offering. Tell him it grows near the sea, so it will prefer regular misting. The foliage is needle-like now because it’s young, but as it grows older it will get scalier. One of the best things about Shimpaku is its hard resinous wood…ideal for advanced sculptural techniques such as jin, shari and sabamiki.” Jin bursts into his signature windshield laugh.

This time you roll your eyes, but Jungkook giggles along.

“Uh, thanks I guess,” Jungkook accepts the gift. “But I don’t know why you don't give it to him yourself. Knowing Joon, he’s pretty old-fashioned. If you've pissed him off, he can be really petty and hold a grudge. He holds things in until it gets really heavy—”

At that moment, a loud engine bang is heard from outside the atrium. The glass walls shake and the birds in the trees fly away in droves of panic.

“What the hell was that?” you say, but nothing else happens. The disturbance was momentary. 

"Nothing to fear folks," one of the chaperones calls from a distance. "A small aircraft had to make an emergency landing nearby. Idiots over-estimated their weight capacity and ran out of gas. Carry on."

“Anyway,” Jin continues, “take good care of it until you can give it to him. Oh, and if you’re prone to Drosophila melanogaster with your regular houseplants, you might want to lay off drowning the soil...”

“Droso-whatagaster?” you both say.

“Fruit. Flies.” Jin sighs. “Now please, go before someone sees you here. I am restricted material!” He grins at you and waves you off.

On your way out, your hand finds Jungkook’s again. Less clammy than before.

“Thank you for visiting the Butterfly Habitat, we hope you’ll gain a greater appreciation for butterflies and their place in the world’s ecosystems. Before you leave though, remember to check your clothing for any hitchhikers and pose by the Heaven Lotus for a memorable photo!” the chaperones guide you out toward the Heaven Lotus, where Taehyung is snapping photos.

“Jungkook, are we still on for tomorrow?” Tae heavily eyes your locked hands before Jungkook lets it go. Jungkook nods. You both smile, ready for the flash. Click.

 ***

 Jungkook eats dinner with you at a Haenyeo House. Four bowls of jeonbokjuk (abalone porridge) to be exact. Afterward, you browse the framed black and white photos on the wall. They tell the story of the haenyeo (sea women), the island’s legendary sea divers. Since the 18th century, deep-sea diving for fish became the work of women until their workforce outnumbered the men. So much so, the island has become a semi-matriarchal society, where the head of the heterosexual household is the woman, not the man. You and Jungkook remark if that is possible here in 1958, then why not on the mainland? The villages here seems to be ahead of their time. Patriarchy and heteronormative standards are still dominant in most places and probably will be for many years to come. After digesting your abalone with more discourse about dismantling the patriarchy and capitalism, you and Jungkook go out on the beach.

The sun has already gone down, marking the first day of the retreat over. The only light source radiating from the campfires along the beach and the star-lit sky. The campfire nearest your sleeping tent is vacant. The question of sharing a tent crosses your mind.

“Arent you going to tent up with your assigned travel buddy?” you ask Jungkook.

“My what?” he sips from his flask then stares expectantly at you.

“Your travel…buddy??” It’s not a weird question, right?

“Where did you hear that? I can guarantee there's no travel buddy list,” he giggles into his flask.

“But, Jin said…” You reflect on the words as you stare into the fire.

Water shoots from Jungkook’s nose as he tumbles forward. “He said he was your assigned travel buddy?! Ahahaha—”

Apparently, there was no such thing. Jin made it up just to have a reason to be with you during the trip. What are you supposed to think now?

You’ve had a long first day, to say the least. Jungkook helps you relax. The night passes too quickly as you exchange stories under the stars. At some point, you pass out asleep and feel Jungkook place his jacket over your chest. He carries you into the tent. You roll over onto your stomach and splay like a starfish. Jungkook struggles to remove your shoes and get you into the sleeping bag. Then the darkness swallows you and you drift into a deep sleep. Whatever comes tomorrow can’t possibly top the day you’ve had.

 ***

 You wake the next morning to an empty tent and two layers of sleeping bag. The extra is not yours. Your back is stiff and you feel like your whole body has sunk two feet in the sand. After a little morning spruce, you find Jungkook having breakfast by the campfire. The bonsai tree sits on a rock in front of him and the souvenir bracelet rolls between his fingers.

“That’s a really nice souvenir!” you sit beside him.

“Thanks. It’s for, um, Namjoon actually. Ha ha. You think he’ll like it? Joon loves the sea but, he works so much. He’s studying part-time and can’t take advanced classes.” He scratches the back of his round head again.

“That’s lovely, Jungkook. I think he will definitely love it.” Jungkook is so sweet, you can’t help feel a little jealous after how aloof he was with you on your first date. “Oh, this is totally random but speaking of Namjoon, you haven’t heard anything from him, have you? Last time we spoke was kinda weird…I thought maybe he said someth—"

“Y/N. I have to tell you something,” he hesitates, lingering for permission.

“What is it?” you say. The morning wind on the beach is a little chilly. You fold your arms across your chest for some warmth.

“Do you remember that day? The day I was supposed to pick you up after work?” he fiddles with the bracelet.

Now it’s your turn to choke on your flask. Your stomach feels like it’s going to sink with all the emotions of that day returning. Jin completely avoided this conversation, but here goes Jungkook getting right into it.

“Yes, I remember it all too clearly,” you sigh. “I was on my way to the parking lot where I thought you were picking me up. I was walking by the court while the jocks were playing a game. Then the ball went out of bounds and hit me. I passed out and woke up after Yoongi, uh, resuscitated me. His hand was injured and he looked really mad. He still took me to Namjoon’s. Namjoon was acting all weird about it, but I still don't know why.”

“Well, that’s one version of it. But that’s not our version.” Jungkook explains.

“You see, I have um, I have a secret. The project I mentioned that Tae is helping me with, it’s a dangerous project. A few months ago, I discovered something while experimenting. I may have sort of opened a dimensional rift.” He waits anxiously for your response.

“What does that mean, Jungkook. You farted?”

“No! Haha. In quantum physics, there’s a theorem called the Casimir effect, it essentially says that if you conduct the right amount of energy through the right materials at the right time, you can open a door through space-time.”

“Time travel?” you question.

“Yes!!! Time travel.” He whispers. “I messed with it and got it right. That day you got hit with a basketball, it wasn’t the players' fault, it was me! Haha—.” He says it too happily for your taste.

“Hey!… I thought the jocks might have done it on purpose,” you pout.

“It was an accident, I swear to Namjoon! I haven't completely mastered control over this thing yet. That day I was running a bit late, so I thought, "why not?" . It worked obviously, but there was some, uh, glitching. It was not a clean jump. I injured some people when I jumped back, especially you. I'm really sorry. Only Yoongi and Namjoon knew about my jumping experiments then. Yoongi rushed there to stop me. It could have been a disaster, Y/N. But I figured out that I can do a cleaner jump if I have a stronger source of energy. The vacuum isn't it. ” his eyes are sparkly again.

You are quiet, thinking.

“So, let me see. You can travel through time using science, but you don’t have a good grip on the specifics yet. Yoongi, Jin, and basically everyone else knows about it now. You all got together while I was passed out and schemed a lie so I wouldn’t find out I got knocked by an experimental poltergeist. Am I understanding it correctly?”

He blinks. “That was easier than I thought.”

“Jungkook. You are so cool…”

He blushes, “I’d rather be dead than cool…”

“Since I’ve already been a victim of your jumping experiments. Can I know about the cave?”

Jungkook sighs. “I told you yesterday that the cave is like the Bermuda Triangle. Under ideal conditions, the cave can be a portal for time travel. The lab doesn’t know what conditions exactly, but I do. They aren’t up to anything good with it. If the lab got its hands on time portal capability, it would have the power to manipulate the past and future. Taehyung did some journalistic investigating on the lab. It's called Heaven, Inc. Before it got the military permission to colonize the island, they were just another underfunded private lab, doing shady work for shady leaders. Corrupt stuff. Tae discovered that the lab has already found the cave and they've closed it off. It’s not much time before they get the conditions right. Do you see why we have to intervene? Only we know about it. The cave would be weaponized. A weapon of dimensional shifting.”

“Jin can't know what he’s part of, right? I mean, he would never volunteer for something like that. He’s good…”

“I dunno, he definitely knows where the cave is. Tae and I have a plan. We’ll follow him to the cave and film it all. The video will be released to the papers and the government will have to shut down the complex.”

“That’s doesn’t sound like a good plan, Jungkook. It’s dangerous. They have the strictest enforcement here. What if they stop you?”

“Trust me, Y/N. They need a really big source of energy to open the portal. After my experiments, I think I figured out how it works, but I’ll need your help..." He looks at you with the same expression he’s had the whole time, “Can I kiss you?” Endearing and determined.

You are completely startled at the turn of confessions.“It's for science, right?” 

“For science,” he grins.

“Ok, I trust you.”

He lunges forward and kisses you passionately on the lips. Your eyes shut tight and butterflies erupt in your atrium. Not counting Yoongi’s resuscitation technique, this is your first real kiss. Jungkook’s hand comes up to hold your face. He brushes your cheek and lingers, savoring you as long as he can.

At last, you break. “Wow,” he pants, “thank you.”

“Hey?” you pant back, “this better earn us the Nobel Prize.”

 ***

 Taehyung joins you and Jungkook at 7 o’clock sharp, carrying several duffle bags. He sets them down and slicks back his hair. “The name’s Bond, James Bond,” he says with a deep voice. Jungkook ignores him, too deep in thought focusing on the surroundings. Tae turns to you for approval and flashes his adorable boxy smile. You are really about to embark on a covert operation with Taekook.

You squat behind the dense thicket, waiting. Jin passes by with a group of serious scientists. As usual, Jin looks too chippy first thing in the morning. He stands out like a sore thumb. The youngest in the group and the most enthusiastic. Still, he remains well-mannered and eagerly follows orders as they prep for their second day excavating the hidden site.

The three of you follow the group down to the north-facing coastline, staying out of view. The group you’re tailing disappears into a tunnel behind a glistening waterfall. You wait behind some big rocks. A branch cracks behind you and you spin around. Funny. You could swear you saw a glimpse of the big-breasted mathematician's ass hanging out of a tree. No way. You're probably still dazed from locking lips with Jungkook. There's no way Namjoon would ever be here. Then, Jin’s laughter emerges from the cave as he leads the group back out. He saunters past, delightedly chatting up the eldest scientist. You sigh. Poor Jin, he really believes this about some moss.

“Well, we found it.” Taehyung whispers. “That was easy.”

Too easy. An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. Like right before you are about to lose something. You glance over to Jungkook who is contemplating the next move. Your lips are still tingling from his kiss. Was it real? During your first date, he seemed so aloof. Sure, he was always sweet and protective, but it didn’t mean anything. That’s just how Jungkook is.

 Yoongi’s old words ring in your ears,

“Listen, Dove, it’s just a random coincidence. It could have been anybody…”

Yoongi really meant it. He knew. They all knew.

 Taehyung holds the fence open for you and Jungkook to climb through. He leaves the duffle bags by the waterfall and only grabs the camera. He takes photos of the chain-link fence protecting the cave entrance. A sign reads “RESTRICTED ACCESS”. Inside, the cave is more like a tunnel. It's cold, dark, rocky, and slippery. Jungkook lights a match and asks you to stay while he explores the interior.

You stick with Taehyung as he takes more photos. “You knew about Jungkook’s experiments?” you probe.

“Sweetcheeks, I’ve always told you, haven’t I? I appreciate art.”

Jungkook runs back from the tunnel, excited. “Hey guys, come check this out!”

You both chase after him.

“Careful, it’s slippery in here!” he yells back through the darkness.

You reach a clearing lit by torches. There's a lot of industrial equipment. Looks like the scientists have come this far. Jungkook examines the mysterious gadgets laying around, one by one. Everything has the same logo, Heaven, Inc.

“Extensional tectonics,” Jungkook mumbles. He walks to the center of the clearing and looks at the wet floor. A man-made “X” marks the spot. “It’s here, inside the Manjjanggul Lava tube. This is the dimensional rift..."

In geology, a rift is a linear zone where the lithosphere is being pulled apart. They form over thousands of years, often at the central axis of most mid-ocean ridges. The new oceanic crust and lithosphere form at a divergent boundary between two tectonic plates. The Manjjanggul Lava tube tunnel is said to be one of the longest, measuring around 7.5 kilometers deep.

Extensional tectonics, as Jungkook said. The Manjjanggul Lava tube is the second Bermuda Triangle. Conditions just right for space-time travel, if supported with a powerful catalyst.

The kiss. The kiss was the energy. Jungkook is trying to manifest the kiss into the big energy he needs to open the portal. You must be…his catalyst.

A purple light begins forming in front of Jungkook as he stands still.

“Wait don't start yet, I need to get the video camera!” 

"Well Taehyung, I don't know how it starts only when it starts...and it's starting now!"

Tae runs to retrieve the equipment from outside.

You flinch as water drips on your head from lava rock on the ceiling. The walls of the cavern start vibrating on rhythms, like the pace of a butterfly’s wings or a human heartbeat. The ring on your finger blackens as a void opens within you, a creeping bad feeling. You push it down.

“What’s happening?” you move to the edge of the wall.

“It’s stopped. I felt stronger energy a few minutes ago. It’s gotten weaker for some reason…” he concentrates hard. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Jungkook—” you start to say. But Taehyung runs back.

“Has it worked yet? Did I miss anything?” he tosses the bags down and starts to assemble the video camera as quickly as he can.

“Wait, I feel something…” Jungkook plants his feet on the marking and holds his arms out in front of him like there’s an invisible wall there. An obscure purple cloud glows before him and the tunnel vibrates with more strength.

Tae starts filming. You flatten your bodies against the wall as more water drips from the shaking ceiling.

“I feel it.” Jungkook closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. He extends his arms farther out, pushing against the translucid wall. “It’s….happening…” he grunts as he puts all his might into the force. Blue and white hues emerge from the vortex developing at his hands. The walls of the cavern pulse even harder. You cling to the wall as you brace for the unknown.

Then, an echo of running footsteps down the tunnel gets louder. Indiscernible yelling and swearing as the heavy steps approach.

One deep voice penetrates the cave and spikes the walls harder than the supernatural force at Jungkook’s fingertips can.

“Stop!” Namjoon shouts.

“Choco! Get away from him!” Jin appears behind Joon. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. Jungkook is not listening anymore. The force in his hands surges and cave walls begin to give way. Tae fumbles with the camera, desperately trying to capture the phenomenon as the tunnel shakes more violently.

Jimin approaches calmly, “I think we would all like to live, so let’s all hold hands and walk out of here in one piece…”

“I can’t leave,” Jungkook replies through the translucent shimmer. "We have to destroy this place."

Namjoon steps closer, cautious of the rocks beginning to crumble overhead.

“Jungkook, please. You are putting yourself in danger…” he pleads. The leader’s fear growing with each passing second until Namjoon breaks down and tears flow from his eyes. With that, the portal opens, rendering Jungkook helpless to its mystical aura.

Everyone is puzzled. Yoongi’s level voice is heard over the rumbling, “What just happened, why is it getting worse?” Jungkook doesn’t know, but his mesmerization with the portal overtakes him and he can’t hear the others anymore. A deep part of his conscious is already elsewhere, they’re losing him.

 Jungkook’s peaceful face shimmers with waves of violet and pink. His eyes wide open, soul entering into a new dimension while his body still hangs back. Grounded in something. Or someone.

Seokjin pulls you away, trying to get you out of the tunnel. Before he can get you very far, Namjoon grabs hold of your free arm. A massive pulse sends a long fissure across the floor, dividing the space in two. You’re being pulled in two directions, Jin on one side and Joon on the other. The tunnel begins to collapse. Hoseok yells for everyone to get out. You must pick a side or you'll die. 

A segment of lava rock falls, nearly crushing Taehyung who has dropped the camera. He runs to Jungkook but more rock falls, blocking him. You’re held on both sides. You look up from Namjoon’s chest. His cheeks are soaked in tears.

“You put everyone at risk,” he glares at Jin.

“Me?” Jin argues back, tugging you to himself. “Your greasers are to blame! You let Jungkook and Taehyung do something dangerous. They even brought Y/N to the cave. I made you all swear, did I not, to keep Y/N out of this! What Jungkook was doing was never safe! We had a choice to stop the lab from finding the portal key. I mocked up the plant samples to destroy the evidence and convince them this is not the place. No one was going to get hurt! But Jungkook, he made his choice. He chose to destroy the site altogether. He chose violence!”

You’re suddenly thrust away from the pair as Namjoon lunges toward Jin. He throws the first punch. Jin collides with the wall behind them. Joon makes for another hit but Jin headbutts him first, tackling the six-foot-tall man to the ground, which is now being pelted with falling lava rocks. You lose balance on the shaky floor and start to fall backward. Yoongi catches you in time and shields you from the debris, looking for a way out.

Was that true? Was Taekook’s plan all along to destroy the cave? Who is right? Who is trusted? You remember Jungkook's words. Trust me.

NamJin curse at one another as they wrestle to the ground. The leader of the greasers and the leader of the jocks. Peace was never an option, was it.

Suddenly, the pulsing hum stops and there is silence. From Yoongi’s embrace, you can still see Jungkook. One moment he is there, standing on the X mark. Namjoon reaches for him but in a moment that feels frozen, lasting longer than a moment should, a whirring noise slices through the cold air, then…Jungkook vanishes. ZAP.

All that’s left in Namjoon’s large hand, the moon bracelet. Only the sounds of heavy breathing and dripping water fill the void. Jin rises from the ground and catches his breath. He looks up at Namjoon in confusion. Still silence.

Namjoon is about to say something. Then ZAP… he vanishes through thin air. The bracelet drops to the wet ground and rolls toward you. What the fuck! Everyone looks at each other. What is happening?! A moment later, Yoongi follows. ZAP. Jimin. Taehyung. Hoseok. ZAP ZAP ZAP.

Only you and Jin are left.

 ***

 The following morning, your school formally announces the reported disappearance of six of its students, four of whom were not attending the retreat. Their names are printed in the paper, along with their photos.

Kim Namjoon. Min Yoongi. Jung Hoseok. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook.

 All Heaven, Inc. facilities are shut down for further investigation. The remaining students are sent home early in the morning. Police recover the Heaven, Inc. lab equipment from the Manjjanggul Lava tube, but can't find a single trace of the missing students. Seokjin's father gets a lawyer for the other families and files a civil suit.

The long bus ride home is melancholic. You were up all night being questioned by the police, nothing you said was written down. The reporters will dismiss the truth and release their own narrative in a few months. 

The students had a secret party on a sailboat, they got drunk, had a dispute, forgot to tie it to the dock and drifted out in the middle of the night. No bodies were found. It was an accident. A simple mistake of rambunctious youth.

You and Seokjin remain quiet. Neither of you feel like talking. Six of your friends have just vanished. You fear the worst. You have endless questions. Where are they? Why did everyone but Jin jump? Did they make it through safe? Will they ever come back? What will their families do? The void inside only grows. Your racing mind exhausts and you lean your head on Jin’s shoulder. It’s big and sturdy and safe. Whatever happens from now on, at least you will have Jin by your side. You fall asleep.

 ***

 The sound of Professor Choi quietly nudging you awake causes you to jump, “Wake up, Dear. You are home.”

“Huh, what year is it?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and feel a cramp in your neck. There’s no other student left on the bus but you. The spot next to you empty, with all but a snack left on the seat. You pick up the wrapped choco pie and stare at it. No way. Did Jin get time warped? He couldn’t have he was with me…

“It’s 1958, Dear,” Choi laughs. “Don’t forget your belongings. I’ll leave you to it.” The professor walks off the bus.

 Jin got time-warped with the rest. This is not a dream. You are not dreaming.

 All seven of them...left you.

  Field Observation #10: It was a f*ckboy au after all. What did you expect, Bighead? 

 See you in 1985 :)

[quiteaweirdworld]

Eastside- JJ x Reader

(not my gif)

snapshots of your life growing up with JJ always by your side

Requested: nope (send me requests!!)

Inspired: the ask from @yellowclara​ for a Halsey fic, I wrote one with @spilledtee​ (go check it out) and also wanted to write my own

Warnings: none!

Contains: fluff, soft JJ, growing up

Words:  1.6K

When I was young, I fell in love

We used to hold hands, man, that was enough 

You and JJ had been friends since third grade, the same year that he met John B. You remember meeting him at recess, when the boys were playing kickball. He was a scrawny little thing, with messy blonde hair and a loud voice that everyone listened to. You were the only girl who wanted to join in, and were getting a hard time for it. The girls were turning up their noses at the dirt and  the boys were all saying how you couldn’t be any good. JJ finally called out 

“Let her have a shot, and if she makes it around, she can play”

You made it all the way around, and JJ grabbed your hand and held it up in celebration. After school he came up and introduced himself and John B, and ever since then, it was you and the boys. When Pope later joined the group he also became part of your little family, but you were always closest with JJ. Although he didn’t tell you then, that was when JJ fell in love with you, the little girl who wasn’t afraid to be with the boys and go for what she wants. 

Then we grew up, started to touch

Used to kiss underneath the light on the back of the bus

 When middle school came around and he grew so much that he was now a good four inches taller than you, he became more protective of you as well. You never grew out of your tom-boy ways but JJ didn’t seem to mind.

 Your most clear memory was a trip to the beach in eigth grade. Your entire class rode the bus from school to the beach, even though some of you, like you, JJ, and John B, spent more time at the beach anyway. When you got there, most of the girls went straight to the sun to tan and sit around but you were most excited to hang with the boys in the waves. After spending all morning teaming up with JJ to splash John B (Pope declared himself neutral), you headed into shore for lunch. As you were getting your coke, one of the girls spilled theirs on you, saying 

“Oops! But it’s ok, boys like to get messy anyway”

 You were mortified, just because you didn’t like girly things didn’t make you any less of a girl. Before you could fully react, JJ poured his own water on the girl with an 

“Oops! But it’s ok, you’re at the beach anyway” and tucked you under his arm. When you got back to the group you started to move away but his strong arm around you didn’t let you. You spent the rest of the trip pressed against his side, and right before you were about to leave you felt a tug at your arm while JJ led you around a corner.

“JJ, wh-” you started but he cut you off with a tiny kiss, your first kiss. He stepped back and looked at you with those big blue eyes and blushed as he was nervous, but you reassured him that there was nothing wrong when you tucked yourself back into his chest and smiled. If he made Pope sit with John B in front of you two so you could go for a small second kiss on the bus on the way back, that’s a different story. 

I know your daddy didn't like me much

And he didn't believe me when I said you were the one

Oh, every day, she found a way out of the window to sneak out late

Your dad was never the biggest fan of JJ, and it only got worse once you started dating after that beach day. It wasn’t that you were a kook, in fact you were far from it and your family definitely understood the  struggle of being a pogue, it’s that your dad wanted more for you. Like Pope’s dad, your dad wanted you to have a bright future and thought that JJ would stand in the way of that. 

You didn’t care. 

You always found a way to hang out with your group, and once Kiara joined the summer after eighth grade you were happy to have another girl. Kiara was always the pretty girl, the one who acted like the other girls and wore girly tops. You were always a bit self conscious that Kiara was prettier than you, but JJ said that he liked it when you wore his shirts so you taught yourself not to care anymore. 

When you slipped out your window and ran to your spot on the beach every weekend, JJ greeted you with a soft 

“Hey Y/N”. You weren’t ones for pet names, leaving that for John B and whichever girl he had his eye on that week, but you showed your affection with little casual touches, with his hand in yours or your head tucked into his chest. You were still a lot shorter than him, but had to admit you didn’t mind because it was that much better for cuddling. Your group wasn’t partying yet, but would always sit a bit away on the beach and watch, ready for when it was your turn to party throughout the night. 

My love is yours if you're willing to take it

Give me your heart 'cause I ain't gonna break it

The first time you said “I love you” to JJ, it was the first week of ninth grade. 

Kiara was at Kook Academy and that left you without any girl friends. You had been picked on all week for hanging out with the boys and though you wouldn’t have it any other way, you wished the names didn’t hurt so much. It was Friday afternoon, and you just got out of English, the only class you didn’t have with JJ. You had heard whispering behind you all class about how it was a shame that you had to hang out with the boys because none of the girls liked you. Although you’d take hanging out with your boyfriend over those fake girls anyway, you still had to focus so hard on not crying that you ran right into him. JJ took one look at your face and signalled to John B that he had to go, and walked with you all the way past your house and back to the beach. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and you quickly explained all your insecurities about how you’re bad at being a girl, and everyone hated you for it. 

“Y/N, I don’t care if you’re bad at being a girl, because you’re great at being my girl” 

You laughed at that, and looked up into his blue eyes.

“I love you” you whispered

He froze, looking at you

“I love you too”

So come away, starting today

Start a new life together in a different place

The summer after ninth grade, you all had to get new jobs. Kiara was still working at her folk’s restaurant, but you joined the boys in delivering for Heyward. You worked well with the boys, them carrying everything and you actually being the face of the delivery because you always got the best tips. JJ always bragged that his girl was the best saleswomen in the world, before pulling you in close. At the end of every long day you always ended up at that beach where you shared so many moments together. You were finally old enough to join the parties, and were always up for dancing with JJ. One night as you were both drunk and sitting in your spot a little ways up the beach, he whispered in your ear 

“You and me, always” “Always” you promised back.

It was like something new had sparked that night on the beach. You started looking at JJ differently, and imagining your life with him forever. You quite liked the visions that you came up with, and spent the rest of the year envisioning a life together with JJ. 

Seventeen and we got a dream to have a family

A house, and everything in between

Even though every adult since eighth grade had told you that your relationship probably wouldn’t last, you and JJ were still going strong Senior year. You were his comfort when things got rough with his dad, and he always protected you from any harsh words flung your way. 

One night at 2am, you woke up to something knocking at your window. You saw that it was JJ, and hurriedly unlocked it so he could tumble in. “JJ, what happened?” you asked as you saw his face purple with bruises.

He started crying, one of the few times he ever cried in front of you, and you quickly wrapped him in your arms. This was your JJ, your strong boy who had protected you for five years and who always made you feel better. You did the same for him, rocking slightly as he cried against your neck, whispering promises of the future where nothing bad could ever happen. You were listing all of your promises, and were describing your future house in a calm voice when he calmed down. 

“You and me, always?” he asked? “Always”, you reassured. 

And so it was. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

4: numb, for Kauri?

(going through some old prompts just... collecting cobwebs in my inbox)

CW: Drunk whumpee, trauma references, trauma memories, past abduction, past noncon, past abuse, very brief emeto reference, nausea reference, BRIEF pet whump reference, this is Kauri at his most fucked-up but it ends nicely I promise, content warning for some serious fucking yearning

The walk back in the dark is a little... wobblier than usual, but Kauri doesn’t care. He stepped off the bus and stumbled when his ankle turned as he hit the sidewalk, rolling forward and finding himself in a bush, a bit of landscaping carefully kept up by some guy who drives a truck around cleaning up the bus stops.

Kauri giggles, then pushes his hands over his mouth to quiet himself, fails, giggles some more. His hair gets caught in a little bit of branch and he winces as he yanks it free and loses a curl.

The bush gets to keep that one. Maybe the guy who trims the bushes will find it tomorrow and fall madly in love with him, like Cinderella’s glass slipper. Kauri starts laughing at the idea of the guy in his big neon orange-and-yellow reflective vest and his stupid button-up shirt with the city seal embroidered on it holding up a curl of black hair to this person or that, looking for its match.

“Hey, man,” A woman says, crouching in front of him. She’s older than he is, maybe by ten years, maybe less. Kauri can’t tell and she’s lit only by the harsh pale streetlight, adding definition to beginning wrinkles around her mouth. Or he’s making that up. Her face is kind of blurred anyway, spinning a little like everything else. She’s wearing hospital scrubs under a coat, her hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck. She reminds him of Nat’s neighbor lady, only a bunch younger. “You gonna make it home?”

Home. What the fuck is a home? Home is where they lock the doors, home is where you get the shit kicked out of you for trying to leave. Home is where he holds you down on the bed until you cry because it hurts, and it’s always going to hurt unless you want me, Kor-Bore, you know that-

Kauri’s giggles hiccup into something like a sob.

The bus is still idling along the curb next to the stop, and the bus driver knows Kauri - sees him two or three times a week in variations on drunk or high or scared or elated. She leans down and calls out, “You gonna be okay, Kauri?”

Maybe one day he won’t. Maybe one day someone will murder him in a dark alley instead of hooking up or shove him into the trunk of a car or-

into a white van with no windows and the needle’s in his skin and his sister is screaming and there’s a hand over his mouth wearing black leather gloves and a man smiles at him and there are other men and zipties on his wrists and they tell him sucks to be you, gorgeous, but you couldn’t hide a face like that and then his head drops as whatever they gave him hits and Liam’s head drops onto the plastic mat that lines the van’s floor, his eyes close, and he’s gone-

Kauri lays there staring up at the spinning stars with his had pounding at the memory, but not enough to make it stop. When he’s really drunk, sometimes he can roll with the pain, let it wash through him and change nothing, mean nothing, do nothing at all.

He feels the way the earth rotates around the sun, every motion of the giant planet but it’s not big - it’s tiny, really, the Earth and all its purple mountains majesty, and Kauri is tinier, and whatever life lives in his head, somewhere underneath the layers of pain and fear, never mattered at all.

“‘m fine,” He slurs, trying to focus on one single star. Just one.

Please, just one star. 

“No, you’re not,” The woman says with a soft sigh. She glances back at the bus driver. “I’ll figure something out, Virginia,” She says, and waves one hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“G’night, Sadie,” The bus driver calls out over the low rumble of the big engines, then adds, “Get home safe, Kauri.”

Kauri closes his eyes. Why does everyone always want there to be a home?

“Where’m I taking you, then, Mr. Whiskey Breath?”

“T-Tequila,” Kauri corrects her, then gives a pale shadow of his effortless, airy smile. She takes him by the arm and pulls him to his feet and he overcorrects as he stumbles again, smacking into her side. She stays standing, if only just, and holds him more firmly. “’S... tequila. Good, good stuff, too, good...” His head drops against her shoulder, and he giggles again.

“Oh, honey,” She murmurs. They stand for a second while she thinks this through, and Kauri sees himself through her eyes - gorgeous and hammered, barely able to stand on his own, a piece of shit who can’t take care of himself or won’t or chooses not to, anyway. 

He tries to feel something, like maybe shame, but nothing happens.

He’s too numb for that.

“D’you have a phone?” Sadie asks after a pause. 

“Mmmmnyes,” Kauri responds, suddenly aware he hasn’t lifted his head off her shoulder yet. “I do have a phone. ‘s a very nice phone, too.”

“No doubt. Is there anyone we can call for you? I don’t-... I don’t think you’ll make it far on your own, um, Kauri? Did you say your name is Kauri?”

Kauri tilts his head back to look at her, and the world suddenly crashes hard to one side. His knees buckle and she quickly throws an arm around his waist to keep him up. He starts giggling again, shaking his head, mumbling what he hopes are apologies until he manages to locate his cell phone and pull it out of his back pocket. “M’name’s whatever you want it to be,” He says with his most charming, beautiful smile.

Sadie quirks an eyebrow as Kauri struggles to unlock his phone, then takes it once he manages, tapping over to his contacts list and scrolling. “Who do I call?” She asks, looking at the photos Kauri uses to identify everyone instead of names. “Who can I call to come get you?”

A wash of sadness so strong it feels like being hit by a wave made from bricks hits him and tears prick at his eyes, burning hot behind his eyelids. He feels a sudden wild urge to say Owen Grant, call Owen Grant, just take me back where I belong, this is too hard and I don’t want to do it anymore, being a person is just too hard but fights it off and instead, shaky and uncertain, he offers, “Th’ photo of th’ guy in th’ blue, blue shirt. That’s... thassss... Jake.”

“And he’ll come get you?” Sadie’s thumb hovers over the image, a picture Jake took of himself and sent to Kauri once, smiling over his iced coffee studying at school. “This guy will come get you, this Jake?”

Kauri whispers, “I hope so.”

Sadie looks at him, tilting her head. “Did you guys have a fight or something? Is that why you’re out here like blackout drunk?”

“No,” Kauri mumbles. “Fight... I fight with m’self.”

Sadie gives a soft sigh and a nod. “Well, I’ve been there done that. Okay.” She taps the photo of Jake, gives a low whistle and mumbles a soft damn, that guy’s hot, I see why you’re out here being schmoopy about him, and before Kauri can correct her that it doesn’t work that way, she’s got the phone up to her ear and Kauri can hear it softly ringing.

Jake must pick up because the ringing stops and Sadie says, “No, this isn’t-... I’m Sadie Williams, I’m on his phone. We’re at the bus stop on Penntuck Drive, do you know where-... oh, okay. Yeah, I live a couple blocks from here and this, uh, Kauri is way too drunk to go anywhere.”

“Am not,” Kauri protests, and his stomach suddenly flips and he swallows, eyes slightly widening. Oh no.

Sadie sighs and says wryly, “Trust me. Too drunk to get home on his own. Can you-... oh, okay. Cool. We’ll be here.” She hangs up the phone. “Okay, your buddy’s coming to get you. Let’s just sit on the bench in the bus stop, all right?”

Kauri nods, not trusting himself to speak, and lets Sadie maneuver him, fighting ripples of nausea that follow every movement, to sit down on the cold metal bench inside the shelter at the bus stop. As soon as she lets go, Kauri flops onto his side on the bench, letting the metal chill the sudden heat he feels, the sweat breaking out all over his body. 

“There we go. Just stay here for a while.” Sadie pats him on the shoulder and he wishes she would pet his head, suddenly, tell him he’s a good boy, good pet, and he turns his face to the bench to hide the tears that finally escape and drip down to pool there. Sadie stands and leans against the side of the shelter, scrolling through her own phone. Kauri twists to look at her and, after his dazed vision stops spinning and settles enough to focus, he thinks... she’s tired.

She’s tired, because it’s two o’clock in the fucking morning, and she probably just got off of work and rode the bus home in her scrubs still under her coat, and watched a drunk boy fall laughing into a bush, and decided to stay with him and make sure he didn’t get found there in the morning by a cop or the bus driver who does the early morning shift, Andrew something, and... 

“‘m okay,” Kauri says, and she doesn’t look up, but one eyebrow slowly quirks upward. “You could... go home. He’s comin’. I’m okay.”

“Oh, you are the exact opposite of that,” She says without looking at him. “Whatever’s got you fucking yourself up, I’m not gonna be the one who walks away from you. I’ve seen too many people like you wind up in the ER.” 

Is it his imagination, or do her eyes briefly drop to the thick leather bracelet Kauri always wears around his left wrist to cover up his barcode?

“You don’t know me,” He protests.

“I know enough,” She says, flatly, and he stops trying to argue. He knows that voice - Nat uses that voice when she’s getting you to do things, a voice that brooks no appeal. Kauri calls it her mom-voice, even though she doesn’t have kids and never will. It makes him think of TV moms, and maybe of his own, who must have existed, and is maybe still missing her dead son, whoever the fuck he was.

Kauri winces at the headache that pings around his skull and curls up on the bench on his left side. There’s silence, for a while, and then the sound of a car engine coming closer, the bright flash of headlights against Kauri’s closed eyes.

Jake’s new beat-up four-door - well, new to him, but it’s a Subaru that has seen better decades, not just better days - pulls up alongside the curb, idling as he opens the door and unfolds himself. Sadie, Kauri sees from the bench, tenses slightly at the sight of him, and Kauri wonders if she’s got her phone ready to dial for help.

He wouldn’t blame her - if you don’t know Jake and just see all that height and muscle alone with you in the middle of the night, you could see the threat, in that. If you didn’t know that Jake’s the guy who beats up your attacker, not the attacker himself.

Jake seems well aware of her tension and puts up both hands. “I’m Jake. You’re Sadie? You called for Kauri?”

Some of Sadie’s tension dissipates. “That’s me. Mind if I get a little distance while you pick him up?”

“Yeah, no problem. Go ahead.” Jake waits for Sadie to step away, and Kauri watches her hand move to her purse. He never thinks about stuff like that - she probably has pepper spray or a gun in there, and here is Kauri blackout drunk half-passed out on a bus bench, here is Kauri who passes out on park benches and underneath that big black box that doesn’t do anything over by downtown, Kauri who sleeps in alleys and grassy lawns and anywhere he thinks he’ll get a couple hours, here and there.

She’s careful - and Kauri is lucky.

“So fuckin’ lucky,” Kauri mumbles, then coughs out a bitter laugh, and Jake sighs as he moves over to him, sliding big arms gently between Kauri’s body and the bench. The world spins again as Jake picks him up and Kauri’s arms go around his neck, suddenly terrified he’ll fall and not hit the ground but fall up, up and up and up, and end up somewhere high above the clouds.

“D-don’t, don’-... let me-”

“I got you, Kaur,” Jake says, and his voice is low and it rumbles against Kauri in his chest and he relaxes, a little, but his hands tighten behind Jake’s neck. “Thanks for waiting with him,” He says to Sadie, moving Kauri to the passenger side of the car and leaning over to help him slide him in. Kauri flops to one side, eyes sliding closed.

“No problem. I’m going to head home. Take care of him.”

Jake gives a huff of laughter as he closes the door for Kauri. “I always do,” Kauri hears him say, a little muffled. There’s a pause and then Jake sits back down in the driver’s seat, leaning across to buckle Kauri’s seat belt for him as he half-sits, half-lays limp against the seat. 

“We’re going to get you home and you’re gonna drink some water,” Jake says firmly, slipping a hand behind Kauri’s head to help him reorient himself. Kauri shivers at the simple pleasure of the affectionate touch, eyes sliding closed, and turns his head, just barely pressing a kiss to Jake’s wrist.

Jake doesn’t pull away - Kauri will lose his balance if he does - but he goes still. “Hey. No, Kauri. The answer is still no.”

Kauri sniffs, nuzzles at his arm, and then pulls away, turning away from Jake to clumsily curl up against the car’s door, as far as he can get. “I know. But-... I just-...”

“I know. But we can’t, ever, not like this.”

Kauri tries to feel something other than the spin of the earth, his stomach flipping at the motion of the car as Jake slowly pulls his hand back and drives down the dark street, every house silent, everywhere around them still and quiet.

Jake’s speakers play music, softly, a man’s voice singing, well, let that lonely feeling wash away - maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay over the press of piano keys and hint of strings. 

"What is this?” Kauri asks, tries to point, fails.

“Um, Chris’s shit,” Jake says, but he doesn’t change the song. “I drove him to get some hair dye today, he must have put his playlist on. Musical shit.”

And oh, someone will come running and I know they’ll take you home

“When can it?” Kauri asks, softly. “When can it happen?”

“What?”

“Us. When can us happen, Jake?”

Even when the dark comes crashing through, when you need a friend to carry you and when you're broken on the ground, you will be found

“I hate this song,” Kauri mutters.

Jake doesn’t look at him as he signals a turn - Kauri fights a laugh at the sight of Jake, totally and utterly alone on the road in the earliest hours of the morning, fucking putting on his turn signal a careful distance back from the intersection - and takes a right.

“Jake-... I want you,” Kauri says, the last vestiges of tequila pressing the words onto his tongue, rolling them off and out into the soft air between them. “When can I stop wanting and-”

“Kauri.” Jake’s voice goes softer, not harder. It’s not chiding him, it’s not angry, but laced with something very different. 

He wants me, too, I know he does, I know it.

“Jake, I-”

“It can’t ever happen,” Jake says in that same soft voice, lost in something that some dim part of Kauri recognizes as an echo of his own feelings, “until it’s not like this.”

Jake reaches down to grab his phone, hits a button, and the song changes. Kauri fights back a laugh when he realizes it’s just a different song from the same fucking musical.

“Fucking Chris,” Kauri says, trapped between laughter and tears. 

Jake’s hand moves to rest on the console between the seats, and after a second, Kauri’s hand remembers how to listen to his brain and he lays his cold, thin, long fingers over Jake’s larger, warmer ones.

Jake doesn’t pull away from him.

By the time they get back to Nat’s house, their fingers have wrapped around each other, and Kauri feels a little warmer than he felt before. 

When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around, all you want is for somebody to find you

“Next time, can it be your music playing?” Kauri asks, voice a little huskier and rougher than he means it to be. All the numbness that came with the drinking is gone, and Kauri hurts, inside himself, in a way he’s almost grateful for.

When you’re falling in a forest and when you hit the ground, all you need is for somebody to find you

“Uh, um, yeah,” Jake manages, and his voice is rough, too.

No one deserves to be forgotten, no one deserves to fade away

“I can get better, Jake,” Kauri says, voice low. “I can. But I’m never-... I’m never gonna be whoever was me before.”

No one deserves to disappear

“I know,” Jake says. “That isn’t who I care about, anyway, Kaur... I care about you.”

No one deserves to disappear

They sit in the driveway until the song ends. And through the next song, and the next. The streetlights shine down and the dark is otherwise total and the world slowly steadies in its constant spin around the sun. Kauri lets his head slowly lean back against the headrest.

“I’m-... so fucking lucky you found me,” Kauri whispers. Jake’s fingers twitch in his, and his eyes are locked on Nat’s front door, up on the porch. 

“No,” Jake says, softly. “We’re-... I’m lucky you found us.”

Neither of them wants to be the first to let go of the other one’s hand.

---

@maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes  @raigash @cubeswhump

[bnhayyy]

The Call (10)

Chapter Title: Friendship

Wordcount: 2.9k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: The death of Marco Bodt.

Notes: I stopped uploading chapters to tumblr for a while, but I've decided to get caught up! And getting caught up meant starting with. This. Enjoy? Also! if you want to see what happens next, please know that the next eight chapters are all already posted on Ao3.

"Kirstein. It's Ymir; I'm sure the slayers have told you all about me. Probably not good stuff either, so right now, I need you to ignore all of that and listen to me. Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover are vampires, Reiner has a gem that lets him walk in the sunlight, and Annie is in league with them. I have too many damn calls to make to go into detail, but Reiner's the killer you've been looking for. Bastard almost took Krista out last night. They're after Ackerman, and if you want to stay alive, you'll stay the fuck away from them. I mean it. They are not the people you think they are."

***

"Hey Jean, I just got a really weird voicemail from someone called Ymir. She was talking about vampires and magic rings and... something about Reiner being a murderer? It's probably nothing, but... she sounded really worked up and angry for a prank. I'm going to go over to Reiner's place and talk to him. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure we can talk it out. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know in case you get a call as well. I've got it under control."

***

Jean felt all the blood drain from his face as he stared down at his phone. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to think or feel.

Then he called Marco.

No answer.

He called again.

No answer.

After the third missed call, he pulled on his shoes and raced out of the apartment.

The first message had left him breathless - how the fuck had the vampire that Mikasa and Annie were hunting gotten his phone number?

That much he figured out almost immediately. It wasn't a nice thought, but it was the obvious answer. Ymir and Krista had been seen together at the club, and from the sound of it, they had been very friendly. Maybe the slayers were right and Krista was being manipulated. Maybe they weren't. Either way, he imagined that someone as charismatic and involved in the college as Krista wouldn't have much difficulty getting her hands on some phone numbers. It was an upsetting thought, but it wasn't his priority right now.

He didn't believe Ymir for even a second. But if she was involved, he did believe that Marco was walking into danger.

And he was walking into it blindly.

Jean cursed himself for listening to Erwin as he raced down the steps and to the rack that his bike was attached to. With fumbling fingers, he put in the code and yanked it free. He tore it from the rack and jumped on without bothering with a helmet.

As he peddled, his heart raced. Something cold slithered down his throat and into his stomach as he considered what might be waiting for him. Was this some elaborate trap set by Ymir? Would he get there to find everyone dead and the vampire waiting to set upon any of the slayer's friends who were foolish enough to show up? Did Bertolt and Reiner know about the story she was spinning? God, was she planning on turning them? Was she planning on turning Annie ? He didn't know what a slayer being turned into a vampire would mean in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn't imagine that it was anything good.

Was Marco going to die because Jean hadn't told him the truth?

The cold feeling spread throughout his body as worse and worse scenarios flashed through his mind. He could almost taste the fear threatening to paralyze him - or maybe that was bile. He definitely wouldn't be surprised if he ended up vomiting at some point in the night. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if he didn't do anything, it could cost Marco his life. He had to - he had to -

He didn't know what he would do. What he could do. But he had to do something. Every bit of logic and reason within him told him to go back home and call Mikasa, and he wanted nothing more than to listen to it. The only problem was the obnoxious little thing he called a conscience, reminding him that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to do something.

Damnit. He was probably going to get both of them killed.

He'd almost made it to Reiner's house when he rode past an alleyway. Jean caught sight of three figures standing by its mouth out of the corner of his eye. It was only a glimpse, but with his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline rushing through his veins, it was enough to make him slam his feet against the pavement to stop his bike. He jumped off and abandoned it right on the side of the street as he rushed over to the alleyway.

His first instincts had been correct. No more than a few feet into the alleyway, Marco stood facing a stern-faced Reiner and Bertolt, talking rapid-fire and peppering his words with expressive gestures.

"Marco!" Jean called.

Marco, Reiner, and Bertolt all turned to face him. "Jean?" Marco asked, blinking. "What are you doing here?"

Jean cursed under his breath as he raced over to his friend. "Stopping you from doing something stupid," he said. "What about that call made you think this was a good idea? Ymir-"

"Did she call you as well?" Reiner asked. His expression was a combination of stony, frustrated, disappointed, and angry. It was a little odd, but far from the highest priority at the moment.

"Yeah," Jean said as he stepped over to Marco's side. He and everyone else looked uninjured - good. Ymir must not have been able to try anything yet. "She tried to feed me some nonsense about you two being vampires."

Bertolt groaned and shook his head. "Reiner, if she told Jean and Marco..."

"She probably told everyone," Reiner finished.

"So?" Jean asked, scowling. "It's not like any of us would believe her. The important thing is making sure that she isn't able to do anything serious."

"Yeah!" Marco added. "I mean - I'm still kinda... struggling to wrap my head around this, and that all this is real, but... just because you guys are vampires-"

Jean snapped his head around to stare at Marco. "Wait, what?"

Reiner sighed heavily.

There was only one short moment between that sigh and Reiner starting to speak. However, that moment was enough for Jean's innards to freeze up with a whole new sort of cold.

Maybe he should have given Ymir some credit after all.

"You see, Jean," Reiner began, a whisper of regret staining his voice, "Ymir wasn't lying."

"Maybe not completely," Marco said, oblivious to how Jean's heart was sinking in his chest. Oh, he was definitely nervous - the sweat beginning to form on his face and anxious strain to his smile said that much. But he also sounded like he sincerely believed what he was saying.

Because he didn't know what being a vampire meant. But then again, neither did Jean, now that he thought about it. He knew that they were blood-sucking monsters, but... maybe that wasn't everything. The Reiner and Bertolt that he knew were good people. Marco was a naive goody-two-shoes, but maybe there was some merit to what he was trying to say.

In the time that it took for Jean to go through that train of thought, Marco continued speaking. "But just because you're vampires doesn't mean you have to be killers!"

A shadowed look fell over Bertolt's face, while Reiner just frowned. Jean felt his stomach twist, and Marco's smile twitched fractionally.

Yet he didn't give up.

"A-and even if you are," Marco stammered, "this could be an opportunity to turn over a new leaf! I mean, is there any rule saying that you can't be good? What's stopping you?"

Bertolt bit his lower lip. "It doesn't..." Reiner gave him a heavy look as he trailed off, and he took in a deep breath before finishing, "it doesn't work that way."

"Why not!?" Jean demanded. The words felt like they were shards of glass forcing their way out of his throat and his heart was all but ready to burst out of his chest. He knew that he should turn and run. If Bertolt and Reiner really were vampires, he had to turn around and run if he wanted to get out alive.

But his friends needed him. Marco for sure, and maybe, if he wasn't being a complete moron, Bertolt and Reiner as well.

Jean should have turned around and run away. Instead, he stepped in front of Marco and held his arms out. "Why can't you be good? Vampires might not be the same as humans mentally and emotionally or whatever, but you have free will, don't you? And we're friends, aren't we? So why does this have to mean anything? Even if..." Jean swallowed and tried not to think too heavily on the horrible implications of what he was saying, of what Ymir had said, even as he forced himself to acknowledge their existence. "Even if you've done horrible things, I'm sure the others would be willing to give you another chance if you're willing to atone and try to do good now."

"He's right!" Marco chimed in, stepping forward and around Jean. "I-it might not mean much, but I would vouch for you."

Bertolt faltered. Beside him, Reiner closed his eyes, just for a moment.

When he opened them, all of their usual warmth had been replaced with ice. "Enough of this."

"Reiner-"

"No, Bertolt. They know now. Ackerman knows. We need to show them that we mean business."

Jean was moving before he even finished speaking. He grabbed Marco's arm and tried to drag him toward the mouth of the alley. However, his friend fought back and remained rooted to the spot. Both of them spoke at once.

"H-hey, let not do anything hasty-"

"-Marco, we need to go now-"

Meanwhile, Reiner jerked his head toward Jean and said, "hold him back."

Then Reiner twitched, his gaze jerking off to the side for a moment.

Bertolt didn't seem to notice. He didn't hesitate in closing the distance between himself and Jean and, with far more strength than any human should - could - have, tugged him away from Marco, and pinned his arms behind his back. Jean flailed and yelled wordlessly, but was unable to break out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," Bertolt whispered. "We were only after Mikasa, you weren't supposed to be - this wasn't part of the plan."

"If you're sorry, then why don't you do something!? " Jean shouted.

Meanwhile, Reiner was approaching Marco. He looked steady, unstoppable - aside from how he kept looking over to the side every few seconds. At the same time, Marco took one, two, three steps away, until his back was pinned to the wall. 

Reiner's sudden twitchiness did nothing to soothe him. "Don't do this," he pleaded. "Reiner, please, we're friends, don't-"

"What's going on?"

All four of them froze. Despite his need to keep his eyes on Marco, Jean's eyes momentarily darted toward the opening of the alleyway. There stood Annie Leonhardt. She was beaten and bloody. At just a quick glance, he noticed that her shoulder was positioned oddly and there was a gruesome cut on her leg. Even so, for one bright, shining moment, he felt something that almost felt like hope. For a moment, he wanted to call out to her for help.

Then he remembered Ymir's call.

"Annie!" Marco called out, still hopeful where Jean could feel despair lapping at his heels. "Th-there's been some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe you could-"

 "Ymir knows about us," Reiner interrupted, making Jean's eyes snap back to him. Where Jean, Marco, and Bertolt had all paused to look at Annie, he had gotten ahold of himself and re-focused his attention on Marco. A predator fixated on its prey. "She told everyone."

"Mikasa knows too," Annie said, voice empty. "She got away."

Reiner's expression darkened. "She got away, or you let her go?"

No sooner had he spoken than a twitch ran through his jaw. But of course, with all that was going on, Annie didn't notice it. It looked like she was going to say something, but she never got the chance.

"She should let Mikasa go!" Jean exclaimed. "Annie, you're a slayer! You can't do this. You're supposed to be a hero. "

Meanwhile, Reiner grabbed Marco by the shoulder and pulled them both around to face Annie. "I think you've gotten too attached," he said. As soon as he spoke, he visibly tightened his grip on Marco's shoulder as he spoke, jaw clenching a little tighter yet.

Annie scowled. "No! I just-"

"None of you are too attached!" Marco pleaded. "We're friends! Annie, Reiner, please- "

"Reiner," Jean hissed. "Annie. Bertolt." The vampire holding him swallowed audibly, but made no move to cut Jean off, nor did he try to join the current cacophony of voices. "Listen to me. If you do this, I swear to god, you will- "

"Shut up, Eren!" Reiner snapped.

Silence fell over the group. Or rather, everyone aside from Reiner, who went on to murmur, a hint of intermingled exhaustion and agitation creeping into his voice, "I'm not going to regret anything."

Jean stared. Marco didn't dare move, but he could make out the confusion on his face. Annie's expression morphed into a frown.

"Reiner," Bertolt whispered, "who's Eren?"

Reiner raised the hand that wasn't clutching onto Marco to scrub at the side of his face. "No one," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

He lowered his hand and pushed Marco into Annie's arms. "Kill him."

Annie grabbed onto Marco, whose expression had settled firmly into one of horror.

"Annie, please," he begged, "we can still talk this out, we can-"

"Annie!" Jean howled. "If you do this, you'll-"

"Annie has a soul," Bertolt called out, voice pitched loud enough to cut through the din.

Reiner raised an eyebrow at Bertolt. "So?"

" Look at her," Bertolt pressed.

So Jean looked. He saw that Annie's eyes were wide and her face was pale. She looked pained, but that could very well be because of her injuries.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't as kind of Marco, but to him, she just looked like a murderer in the making. Nonetheless, Bertolt pressed on.

"There are other ways for her to prove her loyalty, but you need to remember that she isn't like us, Reiner. You're asking her to kill a friend. That sort of thing-"

"Right," Reiner said, letting out a mirthless laugh. "We have to look out for the slayer's precious soul."

Reiner wrenched Marco out of Annie's grasp and snapped his neck.

Nobody had time to do anything. Nobody even had time to react. One second Marco was standing there, terrified but alive, and the next his lifeless body was falling to the ground. It was the sort of thing that was impossible to witness without receiving a permanent scar on your soul.

But vampires didn't have souls to scar, and as he stared down at Marco's body, Reiner's expression was utterly impassive.

"Annie," he said, voice empty save for a faint hint of irritation. "Someone will need to dispose of the body. Do you think you can handle that, at least?"

"Once I get the arrow out of my shoulder," she said. Her voice was choked up. If Jean didn't know better, he might suspect that he would see tears in her eyes if he looked at her. But he didn't. He wasn't able to look at anything but Marco's body.

"I'll help," Bertolt offered.

"Not yet," Reiner said. "We aren't done here."

With that, he approached Jean, eyes dark and heavy. Jean met his gaze with his own, eyes promising vengeance, for all that he knew that his death was probably upon him.

Yet when Reiner opened his mouth, it was to say, "now that you know we're serious... Jean. Because we're friends, I'm going to let you live. And if you, Sasha, and Connie stay out of the way, none of you will be hurt."

Faintly, Jean heard Annie murmur, "hypocrite." He couldn't tell if Reiner caught it, as his eyes remained fixed on Jean, waiting for his answer.

A smart person would have agreed. A selfish person would have agreed. If you asked Jean prior to that moment, he would have expected himself to agree.

Instead, he looked Reiner in the eyes and said, "we won't. Reiner, if you let me live, I promise that you will regret it."

Reiner gave a thin smile. "Good thing I'm willing to take that bet."

He stepped away and collected Marco's body in his arms. For a moment, it looked like he would pass it - him - to Annie, but he hesitated upon getting a closer look at her arm. With a sigh, he called, "Bertolt?"

"I really am sorry," Bertolt murmured before letting go of Jean and stepping away.

Jean wanted to charge at Marco's murderers. To fight for his body so that he would at least get a proper burial. To avenge his death. Instead, without Bertolt to support him, his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

"Think about my offer," Reiner called.

With that, the trio left the alleyway, taking Marco's corpse with them.

And Jean was alone.