#anyways i had just dyed my hair pink when season 1 came out back in like 2022 and also i am mean. so i think thats the resemblance

[blueskittlesart]

hey blue have you watched arcane

no but i have been told multiple times by multiple people that 1. i would like it and 2. i am strikingly similar to the dyke with the pink hair

[andilovetowrite]

Tough Love (Part 2)

Peter Parker x Enemy!Reader

Summary: Peter Parker and I have always had a tense relationship, but there was always a line that you wouldn’t pass. What happens when one day you do, and there are horrible repercussions? Will you and Peter make up, or will it be an endgame for you?

Warnings: A bit of angst, and fighting, but a lot of fluff in the end.

Here is the request it is based on!

Here is my Masterlist as well, in case you wanna check out my fanfics :)

Word Count: 1.7k

“Are you really going to ignore me forever?”, you asked Peter, buckling up your seatbelt. It had been a week after your flight, and you two hadn’t said a word to each other. You had tried to apologize several times, but it was hard when Peter skipped school just to avoid you, and while training, he made sure to stay out of your radius.

So you didn’t really have a wide variety of ways to say sorry to him. There were no insults thrown at each other, no teasing and definitely no normal conversations. Even now, Peter just looked away, his jaw clenched shut at the question you asked. Sighing, you turned away, focusing on the floor rather than Nat’s questioning eyes. Everyone in the compound could see something had happened. Usually, your dad had to separate you two from biting each other’s heads off, with the rest of the team cheering either one on. But this week? It had been pitch silence at the compound.

You could pretend you didn’t care, but you did. A lot. When MJ had called you up after the fight, you had been a mess. And maybe, just maybe, it was because you wanted the conversation in the closet to go well. “Well” in a way that you finally told Peter you liked him, and hopefully, he reciprocated it. But the cards were definitely not in your favour, because the day ended with him storming out, and leaving a red-faced, teary-eyed mess behind.

“Okay team, here is how it’s going to go”, Tony said from the front of the jet, looking back at the 4 of us. “Nat and Steve, you two work on getting rid of all the guards inside the place, and I will patrol the outside. Once all the threats are taken out, Y/N and Peter can get in easily and retrieve the Hydra files. It should be easy enough-”

“No”, Peter muttered, looking up, his eyes dark. “I’ll stay with Steve. Nat can go with her”, he said, jerking his head towards you. You could feel your throat close up, as you took a deep breath, opting not to say anything. The entire jet went quiet, all the eyes on you. Not knowing what to say, you just nodded, not taking your eyes off the floor.

Instantly, Peter felt bad. He knew you were trying to make amends, but to what? Just so you could go back to fighting 24/7 every day? He didn’t want that, not in a billion years. So he just shut you down or ignored you anytime you spoke to him. It was better than getting his heart broken again anyway. But now looking at you, head down, biting your lip, he almost felt like reaching out to you, but the plane lurched forward, indicating you guys had landed.

“Alright team, let’s do this”, Tony said, looking hard at you. “And remember safety first. This isn’t a hard mission, so we can be in and out in 15 minutes”

At least that’s what he thought. When Steve and Peter went out to get rid of the soldiers, they were immediately outnumbered, by a lot. Calling in Nat, the four of them kept fighting, giving you a straight passageway to the secret room.

“Y/N, you alright sweetie?”, Tony asked, grunting as he got hit again. You said yes, ducking away from a guy’s view, pushing him out of a window with your powers.

“Yeah, no one is here”, you said, pushing your way into the room, the files just lying there on the table. “But it seems too easy-”, you began, but the minute you touched the paper, the room exploded.

Bright, hot heat clouded your vision as you were thrown back, your suit feeling like it was on fire. Trying to move away, the last thing you could remember was Peter’s voice in your ear, crying out as your eyes closed, giving in to the sticky darkness that swallowed you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/Nnnnn”, you heard Tony’s voice call out to you, “c’mon, get up”. You could feel your eyes start to flicker open as a sharp pressure was applied to your head.

“Ugh”, you groaned, trying to dull the pounding ache in your head. Pushing your hands up, you couldn’t help but wince, a burning pinch travelling up your arm.

“Woah woah woah, relax little Stark”, Steve said, pushing you softly back down, “you have heavily burnt your hands. I would refrain from even lifting them up”

“Wha-”, you asked, looking at your dad. Tony sighed, telling Steve to go outside the room, as he came to stand next to you. You looked at him, still confused about what happened.

“Yo-you went to the main circuit and apparently, they anticipated it. Well...they anticipated Peter to be there instead of you. Some type of fiery air was released around you, which, based on Bruce’s experiment, showed that it would literally burn Peter from inside his suit.”, Tony stopped for a second, looking outside the door, “Um, since you weren’t wearing a suit, it didn’t have too much of a boiling effect, but it did cause some burns and severe blackouts-”

“How long was I out?”, you asked quietly, looking down at your arms, seeing the layers and layers of bandaging on them.

“About 2 days”, he said, looking at you closer. “Peter’s been out there the entire time, waiting for you to wake up” Tony chuckled, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told him to go home, but he just wouldn’t listen to me-”

“Where is he now?”, you asked, surprised he had stayed behind to see you. After your fight, you were so sure that the chances of making up(making out) with Peter were close to zero.

“He’s outsid-”

“Mr Stark, is she awake?”, a drowsy voice called out, as a disheveled Peter came inside the room, his eyes catching onto yours. “H-hey Y/N”, he mumbled, eyes wide as they scanned your body.

“So I’ll leave it to you then”, Tony said, backing away, but not before whispering something in Peter’s ear that made his entire face go pink. “I’ll be back in an hour, alright? Gotta go pick up Morgan from school” He waved you off, but you were too busy staring at Peter. Who, by the way, looked like a mess. His hair was sticking out in all places, his eyes were bloodshot, and clothes rumpled.

Yet, he still looked like your Peter. Hesitantly, he walked over, almost as if he was too scared to even come near you, but the moment he was close enough to hear you, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m so sorry”, you whispered. Peter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who acted like a total dick!”, Peter exclaimed, and it was like a dam broke inside him, “y-you could’ve died Y/N! Why did I-”

“Peter, I’m fine, okay?”, you said, wanting badly to put your hand on his shoulder, but you couldn’t even do that. “And I’m sorry for what I said to you last week- i-it wasn’t right, and I didn’t even mean it-”

Suddenly, you were cut off, because Peter’s lips were on yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. You froze for a second, but as he began to pull away, you surged forward, kissing him back.

You could’ve stayed that way forever, in the dim light of the hospital room, kissing your enemy(crush), but you both needed oxygen to live. Pulling back slightly, you kept your forehead on Peter’s, looking into his brown eyes, as his looked into yours.

“I-I needed to do that”, Peter whispered, and you understood. “With you almost dying, I couldn’t just-”

“I know”, you said back, smiling at him slightly.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”, Peter confessed, glancing briefly at you, but blushing down in embarrassment. Not responding for a couple seconds, he took it the wrong way, as he backed up, eyes starting to brim up with tears.

You were so shocked, you didn’t even realize that he was almost out of the room. Tyring to speak as loud as possible, you piped up, “If you leave now, you aren’t gonna be here to hear my declaration of love Pete”

Peter stopped, his hand on the doornob. “What?”

You smiled, staring at the familiar mop of curls. “Yeah, and if I start speaking as you go out, then Cap might think it’s for him, and that’s an awkward conversation waiting to happen”

“Wha- declaration of what?”, Peter asked, baffled.

Grinning at the dopey smile of his, you chuckled. “I like you too Peter. Hell, I love you”

Peter walked closer, “Wait, you aren’t just saying that out of pity right?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to sit up, “When have I ever done something out of pity Parker?”

“Never”, Peter replied, a smile taking over his features. He came and sat next to you, and as suddenly as he kissed you earlier, he did so again, this time whispering so close to your mouth, and so quietly, you weren’t sure if you even heard him. “We were literally at each other’s throats a week ago, and now-”

“We’re making out”, you said, smirking, “but do you want to change that? I’m sure I can find someone as equally crazy as you to make out with”

Peter shook his head, laughing. “Not at all...plus, as tough as it is loving you”, he said, giving you a chaste peck, “it’s well worth it”

“Mhm, tough love”, you agreed, smiling at your brown haired boy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wow! Loved writing this, and even though it took a long time to update, I hope you enjoyed this, and I can't wait to write my next one :)

Ps. If you have the time, check out Season 2 of Never Have I Ever, on Netflix. It's awsome!

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays

[im-like-if-a-girl]

*THE* mean-girl-dean-girl's Supernatural reboot MEGAPOST!

I'm gonna stick a little "keeping reading" here because hoooooo boy, this is a very long post.

Let's start with

Plot

Season 1

Dean kills John while they are out on a hunt in a crime of passion, but Dean doesn't remember because he blacked out. Cue Dean going to Stanford to get Sam and tell him "Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a couple days."

The audience doesn't know what happened to John, but slowly figures it out with Dean and Sam as Dean slowly remembers what happened that night.

The entire first season, the boys are following the trail John left and fighting monsters as well. They find out Dean was with John, Sam realizes Dean has an unreliable memory, they have heart to hearts about their childhood and the fire, they find John's body, "how could you kill Dad?" but maybe Dean didn't kill dad, whooaaaaaa, misdirection.

It was actually good ole yeller eyes (Azazel) and he made it look like Dean killed John.

Okay, now let's move on to the first episode

Not sure how the opening would work, I would like the story of the fire to be revealed over the course of the first season, but maybe the opening scene could be a little bit of an establishing character relationships and backstory, idk, I haven't thought that far yet.

I'm thinking maybe it's like, Dean gets back to a motel room covered in blood and he listens to a voicemail on his phone from John saying he was on a hunt or something, I don't really know lol.

HOWEVER

I do know that after the intro rolls, we get a scene of Sam waking up to his alarm and "Nine to Five" by Dolly Parton starts playing.

Y'all know where this is going.

Cue a montage of Sam's normal Stanford college life (him sitting through lectures, walking through the campus with friends) spliced with scenes of Dean absolutely slaughtering a nest of vampires (or some other monsters, whatever works best.)

But

Now onto

Characters!!! (And descriptions)

Dean Winchester

Some lovely person on this site made edits of Dean with platinum blond hair and it made me feel some kind of way so we're doing that, homie's gonna have platinum blond hair

Side note about the hair, later when the brothers are running from the FBI he dyes it a dirty blond/light brown (insert jackles hair color controversy here) as a disguise.

He also gets tattoos because we were robbed.

Speaking of tattoos, concept: when Dean comes back from Hell, all of his tattoos are gone. His body is a clean slate, devoid of tattoos, scars, etc. So he gets his tattoos done all over again, which he doesn't mind because he made some bad, drunk tattoo decisions in his youth.

(And before you ask, yes, he does get one for Cas, either a bee or Cas's name in enochian, something cute.)

Dean goes to therapy after Sam gets sent to the Cage.

It's actually court mandated because he got in trouble, lol, he would never go to therapy on his own.

Along with the hair, Dean gets to be the grade A twunk we all know he is.

Sam Winchester

His hair gets longer in every scene he's in

No jk, but imagine

King of Microaggressions

Sam starts off like the sweetheart he is in season 1 but in later seasons he starts enjoying killing a little too much...

It's that demon blood, ba-by!!!

He brings up issues of morality to Dean, i.e. killing monsters who aren't hurting anyone. (Yes I know this is contradictory to my previous statement, but these two facets of Sam can and will coexist.)

Sam and Jess's relationship is explored further, meaning we'll need to start with a different inciting incident, but that's fine, I think everyone can agree fridgings are *(thumbs down)*

Sam doesn't truly know what happened the night of the fire until later, and then he understands why Dean is so protective of him.

Jess

She gets to live beyond the first episode

She is also trans

No, I don't feel like I have to explain myself and I won't 💜

She urges Sam to join Dean in a search for their brother, kind of gets pulled into the hunter lifestyle by association lol.

She dies on a rusty nail after fighting vampires on a routine hunt with Sam

No jk!!!

But imagine....

She's amazing and I love her and Lucifer also uses her as leverage against Sam and possesses her because I think that'd be cool.

She supports Sam 100% and also she and Dean are buddies, pals if you will.

She meets Cas Thee El and immediately she Knows, that is a homosexual.

She dies still so that we can have a Saileen Endgame but she's not dying the first episode or in a fridging. Not on my watch.

Castiel

He gets to keep his raw, light-fixture-exploding power.

I want more of that "I pulled you out of hell, I can throw you back in" energy except over dumb shit like Dean not cleaning up after himself.

He looks like a Dilf in every scene he's in, yeah, that's right, dilf with a capital D for *(GUNSHOTS)* *(gets sent to horny jail)*

Claire

She gets pink hair

And more time with Cas

And maybe a nose piercing

Feel like she should be able to kill a couple angels onscreen, punch a couple homophobes

She gets to meet Jack and teaches him swears and fun slang words.

She deserves it.

Jack

I says "that's my baby and I'm proud."

Jack starts off as a baby, but like Amara he grows up super quickly.

Like, baby to 11 year old in a couple days or less.

This is because Jack's emotional age on the show is on par with that of a 5th grader.

It's at this point when he's a young kid that he runs away from the Bunker and shenanigans ensue.

It's also at this point that Dean threatens to k*ll him.

(Still not sure if I want that in my Supernatural (threatened infanticide? In my Supernatural? It's more likely than you think) but we'll see. We'll see.)

Throughout a majority of season 13, Jack is like an 11 y.o. kid

Season 14 he's like a 16 y.o. teenager

Season 15 he's 21, you get the picture.

Listen, I love Alex Calvert a lot. He's great.

But Jack is a child and should be a child.

Kelly Kline

Kelly, baby, stay right where you are, you're perfect.

Eileen

SHE DOESN'T DIE

SHE GETS TO BE IN THE FINALE BECAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HER.

BLURRY WIFE WHO? I ONLY KNOW SAILEEN ENDGAME!

She teaches Claire and Jack swears in sign-language. Castiel is not impressed.

John

J*hn W*nchester stans, DNI.

He's dead.

We only see him in flashbacks and only sometimes hear his voice in voice overs.

He's not "down the road" from Dean in Heaven, in fact he instead gets to wander around in some Purgatory like Hell for the rest of his time :)

People who get to say "fuck" on the show:

Cas (but only Once)

Jody

Bobby

Now onto other things

I want more of

Ghostfacers

(they need more screentime because I love them)

Dean/Benny

We know they had a thing.

They definitely had a thing.

Demon Dean

Again, I feel like more should've been done with this. All that build up for what, 2 episodes? was not utilized well at all.

Dean's Bisexuality

Straight Dean truthers DNI, my Supernatural is a show about love and being true to yourself

You think Supernatural is a show about 2 straight brothers fighting monsters?

Naw bitch, this is a show about the Gay Experience

He will get to have relations with men on this show.

Of course, only after John dies does he, y'know, display it. Maybe he kisses Cas on his dad's grave just to fuck John over, make him roll in grave.

We all agree John would be/is a homophobe piece of shit, right?

Okay, glad we're on the same page.

Dads

3 men and a baby with Jack is what I'm saying.

I love it when the Trio are father-figures to younger troubled characters they see themselves in, even better if it's like reluctant-but-loving father figure, oh, that trope gets me every time :'^)

Dadstiel and DadDean are my favorites, but I like it when Sam plays "Uncle Sam" to kids too lol.

"Fellas, is it gay to want a tight knit family with your husband, his son, his vessel's daughter, your brother, his wife, your cop mother figure and her wife and their adopted daughters? Asking for a friend."

Garth

Biggest flaw of Supernatural was underutilizing Garth.

I will never not be bitter that Garth was only in like, 7 episodes out of the whole 15 season series.

Every episode with Garth gets immediately 5 times better.

I love Garth.

Follow ups on characters who had entire episodes featured around them and then just... vanished???

This is mostly about Jesse, the magic kid whose imagination ruled an entire town like, his daddy was a demon and nothing came of that kid??? Only one episode about him?? No follow up???

KID CAN MANIPULATE REALITY AND WE'RE NOT GONNA GET A FOLLOW UP ON THAT?????

Uh, there was that one episode with Ennis the guy whose girlfriend was killed by a monster? I think?? Who we never see again, that was weird.

Tamara from season 3, episode 1.

And of course-

Cassie

She was so cool, and then we never saw her again :////

She gets to be a badass.

Religious imagery

As a former Catholic school student who has become for the most part, disillusioned with religion, religious imagery in TV shows like Supernatural make my brain go "brrrrrr."

Fun episodes!!!

Like, after season 6 or so, there's a drop in funny episodes

I'm talking Changing Channels, The French Mistake type stuff. (Scoobynatural is an outlier and should not be counted.)

So anyway

In my version we would have more fun episodes

I'm thinking

GENDER-SWAP EPISODE, BABY!!

(why they didn't do that in the original, we'll never know.)

An episode where Dean gets to wear eyeliner

That's it, end of post.

I want less

Racism

Yeah I feel like this is self explanatory, nearly every reoccurring character in SPN is white, and black side characters normally die in the episode they first appear in, or they'll be featured as a villain (Uriel, Raphael, Billie, etc)

Also there's a lot of... uh... asian fetishism featured in the show (what with "Busty Asian Beauties) that's really gross, also Kevin was a bit of a stereotype...

Also also it's super yucky how they kill the gods from other religions like???? Uh??? That's super disrespectful, let's not do that????

I know Supernatural is like, inherently racist because monsters are a separate race that are seen as some dangerous "other" that must be eradicated by hunters in a form of genocide-

Okay we won't get into that but

Still

Stop killing all your POC

Fridgings/Unecessary murders of female characters

I know Supernatural starts with a fridging, so this will be a hard thing to remedy, but

One death that really pissed me off was the death of Charlie

Yeah, that was pointless and we're not doing that. Charlie gets to live and be an awesome aunt to Jack.

And also Claire

Charlie Bradbury Superiority

Charlie and Garth get to meet because they're nerd/geek solidarity.

British Men of Letters

I fucking hate these guys

They're "litcherally" the worst.

The worst part is that the actors they have playing the British AREN'T. EVEN. BRITISH.

And you can tell

Uh, and that's all for now, I'll add more later.

tag list for people who liked my "if this post gets one like I'll post my SPN reboot masterpost" post.

@darianyunidi @sarasidlesaid @crazybananaalpaca @playfulpanthress @ultfreakme @fififeelsmellow @heller-char @luna8eaton @princessmeganfire @insanebot109 @queenofnightsnow @mongoose-underthehouse

Thank you for the support, hope the wait was worth it.

[duskyskz]

- Erasure - 1

Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.

Your living room wasn't on the list.

Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)

A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it. 

***

The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees. 

“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”

“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”

“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear. 

There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move. 

The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning. 

He’s been doing that a lot more recently. 

Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early. 

“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”

“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”

You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.

It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood. 

And again.

Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”

“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant. 

“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”

“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”

You shut your mouth, letting him speak.

“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit  was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”

His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.

A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway. 

You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.

The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered. 

You just really miss your big brother.

 You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -

Thump!

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves. 

“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.

Clang!

That definitely came from your kitchen.

Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back. 

“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you. 

“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.

“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”

Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude. 

“You know my brother?” 

“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.” 

Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans. 

It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The  artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable. 

And Changbin had invited him. 

Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently,  you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute. 

He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though. 

You almost reached up to remove it.

“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?”  You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill. 

Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort. 

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows. 

“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes? 

You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night. 

“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.

“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”

“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.” 

At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...” 

“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.” 

You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.

“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel  like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around. 

Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you. 

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof. 

“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.

“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”

He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs. 

You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like. 

“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head. 

Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.

“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.” 

“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed. 

The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.

“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you. 

“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.” 

The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.

“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Inhuman (1)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS season 2 spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3400

A/N: Yay! The re-write is here! I changed it so now there are flashbacks and stuff and the chapters are longer! I’m also posting this chapter a day early because of reasons. Anyways, enjoy!

[New York, New York, March 2024]

‘Soulmates?’ You had never heard of the concept.

‘We are destined to be together. The universe made it so.’

You shot up in bed, a light sheen of sweat covered your body. Loki’s words replayed over and over in your head. You hadn’t heard his actual voice in so long but it was still as clear as if he was speaking to you now. It had been twelve years since you had seen him in Germany and he had tried to take over.

‘We are destined to be together.’

The words echoed in your mind. ‘Destined’ huh? Well, if you’d learned anything from the past four hundred and eighty-six years that you were not with Loki, it’s that the universe does a shit job at keeping you together. You ran your fingers through your hair, easily smoothing out the tangled mess. It was too early to think about Loki.

You slipped out of the silk sheets that covered your king-sized bed in your two-level, top floor Upper East Side penthouse. You were very proud of how far you had come. The view was amazing. You could see some of Central Park from one side and the stereotypical New York skyline from another.

As you walked out of your room, you caught your reflection in one of your full-sized mirrors. And that was definitely a nice view. When you came out of Terrigenesis almost five hundred years ago, you quickly discovered that you were now the blueprint for a perfect person. Straight, white teeth, surprisingly tameable hair, and clear, unblemished skin were some of the visually obvious changes. In addition to your perfected looks, you had increased senses, healing, strength, endurance, and your favorite, pain tolerance. Oh, and don’t forget you basically look twenty-five forever.

You checked your phone while you made breakfast in the kitchen downstairs. There were a couple of emails from your employees on their latest jobs. You opened one from Max, your right-hand man. You were reading over some job offers he had handpicked for you when you got a text from the man himself.

Bringing up some donuts!

Max was the only person from work to have access to your penthouse. He was your best friend. The two of you had met when you were at Afterlife nearly fifteen years ago. He was an Inhuman as well. All of your employees were Inhumans, using their specialties to carry out their jobs. Max had the power to change surfaces. It was a strange power, but he had learned to make it very useful. He could cause his pursuers to slip on the suddenly ice-like ground or climb up a glass skyscraper.

“Hello, bitch! I brought donuts!” Max called from the elevator.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Max walked in holding the goods. He always wore eccentric color-coordinated outfits. Even the times you saw him in stealth mode, he had to have some lace or frill somewhere. Today he wore a mixture of neon green and pink with matching eyeliner.

“Are Cosmo and Wanda disguising themselves as your clothes?” you asked.

“Haha,” he deadpanned. “I knew you were going to say something like that. You’re so fucking funny. Soo…” He plopped the three large donut boxes onto your kitchen counter. “Have you heard of the Avenger’s new quote-unquote recruit?”

“Um, I think it’s your job to keep tabs on heroes.” You opened the nearest box and happily pulled out your favorite donut.

“Okay. Number one: I’m not speaking to you as your right-hand, right now, but as your friend.” He held up his finger. “Number two: it’s not really a job if I do it in my free time anyways. You’re paying me to do something that I do on an hourly basis.”

“You stalk the Avengers on an hourly basis?”

“No? Anyways, number three: it’s Thor’s brother. It’s your Loki.”

“What the fuck?” you choke on your donut. Max was the only person who knew you that you and Loki had a history. And that’s all he knew. Nothing about soulmates or all that shit. “What the fuck, Max? Did you try to use donuts to soften the blow? Stop laughing.”

“I-I wish I had caught that reaction on camera,” he said in between fits of giggles.

“Haha,” it was your turn to deadpan. “Fuck, man. I guess we just have to double our efforts to keep ourselves off of their radar.”

“Do you think they’ve forgiven him for New York?” Max composed himself.

“I mean, they must have if they’re letting him join the team.” You chanced another bite of your donut.

“But lots of people haven’t.”

“Lots of people still haven’t forgiven Barnes,” you pointed out. You didn’t know when or why Loki had attacked New York. That Loki was nothing like the man who you had grown to love back in the 1500s. But you were nothing like that girl either.

 “Have you chosen a new job from the list I sent you?” he changed the subject.

“No, not yet, and you have a little…” you motioned to the corner of your mouth.

Max got the hint and wiped some powder off of his mouth. You noticed the sprinkling of grey that was mixed into his curly black hair. He displayed the last fifteen years proudly while you remained unchanged. Max was the closest you’ve been to someone in a long time, and just like everyone before him, you would outlive him. But you would remember him. You remembered everyone. You remembered everything.

Right now, you thought of Agnes, your first real friend. She was your handmaiden and you had met right before everything went to shit. She had helped you cope after you underwent Terrigenesis, although you hadn’t known what it was back then. She had helped you run away and even died for you. You had only known her for nine years, but you compared everyone to her. Max held second place, right after Agnes.

“I think we should take the Senator’s offer,” Max said, jolting you out of your memories. He pulled up the offer on his iPad. “One million to off his upcoming competition.”

“Damn,” you whistled. “He’s desperate, isn’t he? Is there a deadline?”

“No, but I assume we should get it done quickly.”

“Send over the info.”

🌹

You shoved the flower into Jake Morano’s mouth. Blood from the bullet wound in his forehead trickled down until it turned the perfect, white rose red. You snapped a quick photo on your burner phone to send to the Senator as confirmation. With a huff, you looked around the apartment. Mr. Anderson had put up a fight, although it didn’t do anything to deter you and Max. A few glass awards were in pieces on the hardwood floor, family pictures were shattered, and the wall behind you held a couple of bullets from Anderson’s gun.

“All good?” Max asked from his location by the computer. He was deleting all footage of you being there. And everything else, just to be safe.

“Yep.” You walked over to him, your boots making a satisfying clicking on the ground, and proudly displayed the picture of the dead body. “Got the confirmation picture for the Senator. How’s it coming?”

“Almost… there. We’re good to go.”

The two of you left in your favorite black Lamborghini. Unfortunately, you actually had to drive places now that Gordon was dead. You followed his advice, though, and bought a plane along with four other sports cars, a helicopter, and a couple of motorcycles. You knew how to operate every single one of them. What else were you supposed to do except for establishing your contract killing empire?

🌹

Loki stood in the middle of his assigned room with his hands on his hips. It certainly was much nicer than the last prison the Avengers had kept him in. They may say it wasn’t a prison but the twenty-four-hour surveillance from Stark’s new AI said otherwise. Even though it was nicer than the shitty glass cylinder from twelve years ago, it was empty. Thor had shown Loki the few things in his room: books, photographs, and his own goddamned merchandise. 

Would Loki have his own merchandise one day? Everyone was redeemable as shown by Romanoff and Barnes. Maybe there would be plastic replicas of his helmet? No, Loki thought that was stupid. Only heroes got merchandise and heroes had to show up to events and sponsor health drinks or whatever the fuck they do. Heroes had to be nice.

Nothing good ever came from being on Midgard. Most recently, there was his father dying, although what followed was worse. Before that was the attack he had been forced to make on the city. And the first time he had ever come to Midgard had ended with disappointment and heartbreak.

Loki sighed and waved his hand to conjure green and gold accents, sheets, and blankets. At least there was color in the room now. No doubt the AI had reported that he had used his magic. He hoped it had also told them that all he did was improve the room, he didn’t need anyone talking to him at the moment.

“Good afternoon, Reindeer Games,” the AI echoed through the room. Loki glowered at the sound of Stark’s nickname. “There is a meeting in Conference Room Five that the entire team is required to attend.”

Loki hadn’t the faintest fucking idea where the conference rooms were. He left his room and caught sight of his brother and the Valkyrie. The God of Mischief followed the pair down to where the meeting was taking place. Did he really want to go? If he wanted to be part of the team he would have to. He preferred the Revengers, though. While it had lasted. It was smaller.

Everyone was sitting around the long table. Of course, Loki would be the last to arrive. Stark and Barton both glared at him when he entered. Understandable. Romanoff remained impassive, but Loki knew she would bash his head in the first chance she got. Rogers had to remain positive that Loki could be redeemed because if the Norse God could redeem himself, then so could Barnes. Bruce had warmed up to Loki on the journey to Midgard. None of the newer members of the team outright hated him, but they were still cautious around him.

Loki found himself sitting in between his brother and Bruce. Stark went up to the screen at the front and everyone fell silent.

“This is Jake Morano.” The screen turned on to show a dead man with a rose stuffed in his mouth. “He was going to run for Senator against this guy.” The screen changed. “This guy is William Anderson, a very corrupt Senator. In the last month, Morano began to gain a lot of support including a sponsor from us. Well, a sponsor from me in the name of the Avengers.”

“Are you implying that Anderson killed Morano?” Rogers asked.

“I’m saying that Anderson hired someone to kill Morano.” The screen changed again to display multiple bodies left with a rose in their mouths. “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. do a quick search of bodies with roses found in their mouths and we found a shocking amount of similar deaths. The first ones dating back to the nineteen twenties. More recently, some of the deaths have happened at the same time on opposite sides of the globe. Deaths include, but are not limited to, shooting, stabbing, poisoning, drowning, burning, missing organs, being found stuck in a wall, and looking like a suicide. They all have a white rose soaked in blood in their mouths.”

“Are you sure it isn’t a serial killer?” Wilson questioned.

“Yeah, it’s probably not the same guy,” Romanoff pointed out. “Especially if it goes back to before Steve looked like that.”

“It’s gotta be an organization,” Barnes guessed. “Been around for a while, a couple of deaths happening at the same time, and one constant MO.”

“Loki?” Everyone looked at the God of Mischief when Stark said his name. “You’re technically a part of this team now. What’s your opinion?”

“Barnes is probably right,” Loki said after a moment’s hesitation. “The locations are all over the place and there are many different ways the victims met their demise.”

They nodded and Loki returned to silence.

“Alright, game plan.” Stark clapped his hands. “We have to get Anderson into an interrogation room. Round one is the good cops: Steve and Sam. When he doesn’t crack, and he won’t, we up the intensity. Nat and the Manchurian Candidate will do some intimidation. If he still doesn’t crack we can send in Wanda, or even Reindeer Games if she’s not comfortable, to search his mind.”

“Are all Midgardian politics like that?” Loki heard the Valkyrie ask Thor after the meeting. Thor only shrugged so she turned to Bruce.

“I mean, I haven't been here in a while but it’s always kinda been fucked up.”

Only an hour after the meeting, Anderson took out one million dollars in cash. Stark tracked him to a small cafe where he was going to, no doubt, pay the assassin. The team rallied, but of course, Loki wasn’t going. Apparently, he wasn’t ‘cleared’ yet. The only other people staying behind were the Valkyrie, Thor, and Barton due to a recent injury. 

Loki went to his room to sulk, although he told everyone he was thinking. He didn’t want to be here. Maybe he wanted to go somewhere that reminded him of home with tall buildings that reached the sky… 

🌹

"Hello, (Y/N)." Loki’s voice was as smooth as it was in your head, but it was different. The only way you could describe it was that it was solid. It felt less intimate. Like he could bless others with his words, but it was more special because he was here. 

"Loki," you breathed.

"You look more beautiful than I ever could imagine." He stepped closer.

You touched your hair self-consciously. There were multiple knots, and it probably looked like one of those bird nests the dogs always knocked out of trees. You had woken up in a hurry and your hair being trapped in the hood of your cloak probably didn't help.

Then it occurred to you that you were wearing only your nightgown, and you tightly wrapped your cloak around yourself. Loki wouldn’t hurt you, but no man has seen you in an outfit so revealing. Still, you took another step closer.

"I do not know what to say." Fortunately, your voice didn’t shake or waver as you had feared, but Loki could probably feel your nervousness.

You both took a final step closer. You reached up and cupped Loki's face in your hand which tingled slightly when you made contact. You admired his sharp features and bright blue-green eyes. Then you shivered in the cold winter air. Loki noticed and pulled you into a hug. You leaned into him and felt a shiver, a different, better shiver, shoot through your body.

“You’re real.” Your soft voice was almost lost in the biting wind. “I was so scared that I was dreaming.”

Another goddamned dream about Loki? You groaned into your pillow and pushed a few damp strands of hair away from your face. Why now, all of a sudden? Was it because he was so close? Just a few hours upstate in the Avenger’s compound.

Pushing the dream aside, you stretched and got ready for the day. You had sent the photo to the Senator, who you had learned was very fucking corrupted, and he replied with a location. That changed your plans a bit, you hadn't physically met a client in decades, but it was for the better for multiple reasons.

The first reason was that the cafe he had chosen was next to a flower shop where you got your supply of roses. The second reason was that it meant his apartment would be empty. While you went to get the money, and eventually kill Senator Anderson, Max was going to rob his house. It wasn’t something you’d usually do, but honestly, the shitty asshole deserved it.

Your lips were painted red and you wore your usual boots and a leather jacket. Your regular hair was hidden behind a pink and green wig, courtesy of Max. A baseball cap and large sunglasses further hid your appearance. Though if somebody knew your face, the hat and glasses did nothing. There were multiple knives hidden on your body as well as a handgun tucked into your waistband and a pocket pistol in your, well, pocket.

As you walked into the cafe, Izzy, the auburn-haired florist, nodded to you. She had Botanokinesis, plant manipulation, so your supply of white roses was never low. Every once in a while, Izzy would take a job but she had told you she was very happy in her shop.

You noticed the Senator immediately. He still wore a suit and the sunglasses did nothing to hide his identity. There were two young women behind the counter and you suspected that the four other ‘customers’ were too buff not to be the Senator’s security. Anderson had his back to the door which meant you would have to get past his security to get out. You zeroed in on the black briefcase on the ground by his feet.

“Senator,” you greeted and sat down across from him.

“You can’t possibly be the one I talked to,” the asshole replied. “You’re just a girl.”

“Well of course I couldn’t be,” you rolled your eyes behind your heavily tinted glasses. “My boss is too busy and smart to meet you in public.” He didn’t notice your sarcasm. You pulled out the burner phone and showed him the messages as proof. “Now, I’m also busy so if we can get this over with?”

“Sure, darling.” He put the briefcase flat on the table and pushed it towards you.

“Open it.” Even though small boobie traps wouldn’t hurt you much, it wasn’t a piece of information you wanted to give him.

Anderson sighed and complied. Then you turned it around to quickly inspect the contents. One thousand one hundred dollar bills. Hello Mr. Franklin. You nodded in satisfaction and comically rubbed your hands together to inconspicuously grab a knife that was hidden up your sleeve.

“Thank you, Senator. That will be all.”

You closed the case, stood up, and plunged your knife deep into his left carotid artery. As his security descended upon you, you pulled the knife out and his neck satisfyingly squirted blood. The Senator collapsed with his hands clutching his wound desperately. The pool of blood rapidly grew underneath him.

The two baristas screamed behind the counter and the Senator’s security drew their guns. You flipped the small table for cover as bullets pierced the cafe’s window behind you. Perfect. Just a bit more.

You pulled out the handgun from your waistband and with practiced ease, shot three of the four goons. The last one got the bloodied knife to the face. You elbowed the already damaged window and it finally broke, raining glass down on you. Ignoring the small cuts, you jumped out of the cafe through the window as a familiar red and gold suit landed in front of you. Why the fuck were the Avengers here? What about Loki?

You darted into Izzy’s shop and she played her part well, screaming that you had run out the back when you had actually gone into the side room. You listened as the Avengers followed her directions. One person, maybe it was the Black Widow, stayed behind to help calm down the seemingly hysterical Izzy. If she wasn’t so happy at her shop and she didn’t want to work directly for you, she could be a great actress.

You rolled back the rug on the ground to reveal a metal trapdoor. You entered the code to unlock it and climbed down into the darkness. Behind you, you heard the trapdoor’s magnetic lock click back into place. Two centuries ago, you had tunnels dug underneath Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens for easy getaways. If you went… that way, you would end up in Sandra’s souvenir shop which was a couple of blocks away from your penthouse.

With a million dollars in one hand and a handgun in the other, you walked down the concrete tunnel.

*

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Taglist:

@kaithehero @liliannyah​ @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury​ @aberrant-annie

[shadedrose01]

Only Us

Ship: Parksborn (Peter Parker/Harry Osborn)

Authors Note: A fluffy drabble I wrote quickly for fun. Based off the Spider-Man 2017 cartoon, not edited. Hope you guys enjoy! ❤💞❤

Edit: I'm stupid and forgot to add a spoiler warning. Spoilers for season 1 of the cartoon!!

--

It'll be us, it'll be us

And only us

And what came before, wont count anymore

Or matter. Can we try that?

"Cya!!"

"Get home safe, you two!"

"We will, bye!" Harry calls over his shoulder, to their three friends sitting on the steps Horizon High, Gwen and Anya in their fancy blue and red gowns, respectively, and Miles slicked back in his full black tux.

Peter echoes his words as he matches their steps, trying not to stumble as his attention shifts into the same thing it has been all damn night, Harry fricken Osborn himself and his goddamn suit. Because, while the rest of their friend group had dressed up nicely, him included in his burgundy hand me down vest and pants from his Uncle Ben and nice white dress shirt, Harry had outbeaten them all. To Peter, anyways.

The taller boy was wearing a dark navy blue velvet tux, with a bright white shirt tucked into his pants and a matching tie to bring it all together, and man is it doing things to Peter he'd rather not admit. It fits him in all of the right places, most likely tailored to him (unlike Peter's too big around the shoulders coat and rolled up pants), and the darker color brings out the lightness of his eyes, almost a cool gray in the light of the moon and yellow from the street lamps, while simultaneously meshing with his jet black hair, mostly slicked back except for the front, which had puffed back up in the hours of stuffy heat and the jumping that he had called dancing, combed back into a quiff only by his hands, messy and unmade but still so unbelievably perfect to Peter. It makes him forget how to breath, the ethereal beauty that is Harry Osborn, the perfection of the diamond that had escaped from the heat and pressure of Norman Osborn's clutches, and he barely notices that he's walking right towards a light post until he's right in front of it, and jerks out of the way at the last second.

Harry snorts of a laugh, and places a hand onto his arm to help steady him and help him keep up with the steady trot they've started. "You alright, Pete? You didn't sneak in some alcohol behind my back and didn't tell me, did ya?"

Peter turns to retort, to give back some snarky response as he always does, but then he's staring at harry again, into his bright, shining orbs and wide grin and raised eyebrow and his words dissolve on his tongue, his breath mysterious gone again. "Uhm, n-no?"

"You sure about that?" The taller boy starts at him quizzitively, but there's a hint of something else, of concern in his gaze. "You've been acting kinda weird tonight."

Peter feels his stomach twist with a guilt he hasn't felt around Harry in a while, since he had told Harry about Spider-Man honestly. After his biggest secret (or, what had been his biggest secret) had come to light, and the inevitable fight that came after was over, the two friends had been closer than ever, thicker than thieves, and they had promised to tell each other everything. No more secrets, no more lies. And Peter had broken that.

At least, for the past few months. He didn't mean to! Not really. He hadn't even noticed that he was gaining feelings, and feeling more for his childhood best friend until Anya and Gwen had cornered him in the lab and asked how long they'd been together, why they hadn't told them. After they talked, and he figured out he liked- no loved, its love at this point (oh god)- Harry, he didn't know what to do. How was he supposed to tell him that? When there was no sign that Harry felt the same (no matter how many times the girls, and then Miles too once he caught onto it, told him otherwise), when it could ruin everything between them. He didn't want to lose his best friend. Not again.

But that was the thing, wasn't it? The last time Peter had kept a secret this big away from Harry, it had almost ended in them severing, in the loss of their friendship, and Peter couldn't handle that. He couldn't lose him, not completely.

So, he had gathered up his courage, as much of it as he could muster being Peter Parker and not Spider-Man, and told himself and his friends that he was gonna do it tonight. He had planned to do it before the party, and then at the party, and then during the dance, and had proceeded to chicken out each and every time. But he knew he had to do it. He had to. And it had to be tonight.

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure." He breathes out, glancing anywhere but at the boy beside him, matching him step for step, inhale and exhale, heart beating at almost the same time, Peter's only slightly quicker in his nerves. "I'm okay, Harry, I promise."

"Okay, if you're sure." Harry shrugs it off, as he always does, something he truly, utterly loves about the boy. He knows when to back down, and trusts that Peter will tell him whatever he needs to know. Its the simple, whole hearted faith in him that makes Peter's heart swell, and his face warm, even in the slight chill of the early summer night. They take a few more steps, their feet crunching in the light frost coating the pavement sidewalks beneath their feet until he speaks up again, his voice light, barely a sigh, almost a whisper, a shy truth. "Today was amazing. I almost don't want it to end."

"Me neither," Peter murmurs honestly, his heart stuttering as he realizes his time for telling the truth is running out. He spots the shadow of a jungle jim in the distance, the shine of the street lights reflecting off of the metal slide, dented and scratched up with use, and stops. "Maybe it doesn’t have to, yet."

Harry stops beside him, basically as soon as he does, so in tune with Peters sudden antics that it happens almost subconsciously, leaning on his right side as his eyebrows furrow. "But we already texted Aunt May, she's probably waiting on you to come home-"

"She can wait, she'll understand." He rushes forward, then, glances quickly both ways before running across the street and towards the playground, hearing Harry bark out a laugh and a "Peter!" before his lighter footsteps trail behind him. Peter just chuckles with a grin, flipping around to stare at his best friend and ignoring the stutter in his heart. "Don't you remember this place? We used to play here all the time!"

"Oh I remember," Harry grins as he catches up to him, "You used to push me off the slide all the time."

Peter scoffs playfully, and shoves him roughly with his shoulder. "Yeah, but only because you would do it first."

"Not true!"

"Absolutely true, and you know it!" He sticks out his tongue just as the reach the swings, the bright red paint of the seats almost a pink now due to sun exposure, and peeling, the metal chains holding them up rusty and old. "And these babies!" He exclaims, practically jumping onto the seat and hearing it creek dangerously under his weight, and holding his breath, releasing it only when the swing holds. "We used to play on these all the time."

"See who could go the highest." Harry agrees, sitting on the one beside him with much more ease and caution than Peter had. "Who could go the furthest when they jumped off." There's a hint of sadness, of melancholy in his voice now that Peter hates, hates so so much that he has to turn and face him, to see what was wrong, to see if he could make it better.

But Harry wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was staring up at the sky, at the galaxies and stars barely noticeable throughout the clouds of smoke and smog of the New York City skies, with a hint of a frown tilting his lips, and the multitude of worlds shimmering in his eyes. He's still beautiful, stunning even with the etch of sorrow and nostalgia on his features, his hair swaying slightly in the faint breeze. "It was so easy, back then." His voice is soft, again, barely audible to normal ears but crystal clear to Peter's inhanced ones. He thinks he would've heard him either way, as all of his focus is now captured, captivated by the boy. "We didn't have a care in the world. No stress of saving New York, no fears of- of dying, no pressures of taking over the Osborn Mantel. Just-" He pauses, taking a shuttering breath. "Just innocence. Naivety. Just... us."

"At least that hasn't changed, hey?" Peter murmurs, trying to lighten the mood, and beams when he hears Harry laugh. A faint chuckle, but its a start either way.

"Yeah, yeah." The light smile fades just as fast as it came, the light twinkle disappearing from his eye. "I hope it never does."

"It won't." Peter states, sitting up abruptly, his heart and mind racing as Harry gaze drops from the sky and looks over to him, swirling with so much pain, grief, loss, fear that it makes Peter ache, and he knows what he has to do, knows what he can do to hopefully wipe all those fears away. He just hopes his friends are right, and that it doesn't make everything so much worse.

The smaller boy leans forward, giving plenty of time for the taller to lean back, or move away, giving him plenty of chance to escape this situation if this isn't what he truly wants. But... Harry stays. He stays put, watching intensely as Peter moves closer and closer, his pupils growing as their shaking breath starts to mix, as their noses brush and eyelashes flutter shut, as their lips gently press together with ease, fitting together perfectly almost like two pieces of the same puzzle, almost as if they were made for each other. And then, he's leaning forward too, grasping at the collar of Peter's blazer and pulling him closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as Peter grabs at his arms and holds him there, hoping, longing to stay here, in this moment for as long as they possibly can, all of the worries for the future and sorrows of the past disappear in the heat and warmth of the now.

But all too soon, Peter's lungs start to ache, so he eases back just as Harry does, still so in sync even at a moment like this, resting their foreheads against one another as they breathe the same air, Peter's eyes fluttering open to see Harry already staring back, the storm grays turning into bright summer skies, so full of light and warmth and excitement, so full of hope that it makes Peter's heart sing and his chest warm, making a wide smile break onto his face. "It won't." Peter reiterates now, bumping his nose with Harry's just to hear him giggle, light and breathy.

"It better not." Harry warns, his nose scrunching playfully, gaze teasing. "You better not be the type to kiss and leave, Parker."

Peter bursts out laughing, leaning back heavily and causing him to swing slightly as Harry follows suit, chuckling beside him. Once settled down a bit, he glances over with a warm, bashful look. "I wouldn't even dream of it. Not for the world." Harry's face flushes at that, and he glances away shyly, a wide smile on his face.

They don't discuss titles, or what they are, really. But they don't have to. Both of them know, now, that no matter what comes their way, no matter what life throws at them, they'll get through it, together. And thats all that matters.

The world falls away...

The world falls away...

And its only us

[taerseok]

there once was a home. | ksj

Pairing: Seokjin × f.reader

Synopsis: “There was once a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.”

Word Count: 4.4k

Genre / Rating: Angst, very mild fluff / PG-13

TW: Death, blood & hospitals, mentions of a weapon (gun), MCD!au, use of phone while driving, burglary & swearing

NOTES:

• First of all, thank you soo much to @arizonapoppy​ for reading this over and helping me spruce it up.

 • Secondly, this oneshot is dedicated to my beautiful brenmate @bangtan-dreamland​ who is the best person in the world and you cannot convince me otherwise >:OO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ERIS!! me hope you like hehe (◕ᴗ◕✿) even if you have already read this because i was too lazy to post it afterwards.

There is this hollow feeling in your chest, eating you away as seconds slip by.

There once was a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.

But when did it start? When did you two simply lose your minds to the point he had to be admitted to a hospital, to the point that you, despite seeing him laying in a pool of blood, did not lift a finger?

Let’s start at the beginning of this. Let’s start on June 6th.

══════◄••❀••►══════

You were sitting in the living room, the faint sound of the aircon almost lulling you to sleep, and on multiple occasions, you did fall asleep for what you thought were five minutes or so, but could’ve been more. 

You were waiting for Seokjin to come back home.

Lately, it had always been like this, so you weren’t surprised he was late, yet again. But still. Welcoming him home was the least you could do for him.

Not because you were married or anything, no— the thought actually sounded ridiculous to you, your cheeks burning red at how wild your fantasies were becoming— but because you were roommates.

That was all.

Just a roommate waiting for another roommate to come home. Suspicious? Maybe. Maybe you did like Seokjin a little (or a lot), and maybe you did want to do this so he’d think nicely of you, but still! It wasn’t as if other roommates wouldn’t wait for theirs to come home from work.

Looking at the clock to your right, you sighed. 1 o’clock. Yup. They’d definitely wait this long.

It was then, finally, that your phone rang. Picking it up, upon closer inspection, you realised it was Seokjin calling you.

“Where in the world are you? You know how worried I was!?” Your brows furrowed. You didn’t give him a chance to speak, simply caught up in the pent-up frustration. 

“Relax, damn it. It’s not as if I was out with friends at a club or anything—”

“—You were, weren’t you?”

“No, no. I wasn’t.”

“Then why do you sound drunk?”

You heard him sigh on the other side. “Forget that. Can you please come pick me up?” You wanted to blow up so badly, so fucking badly. But it’d be better, you frowned, if you met him face-to-face and gave him your 2-cents on this whole catastrophe.

“Send me the address and wait there. I’m coming.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

You watched as Seokjin got into the car next to your seat, glaring daggers at him. “You better not think I’m your personal driver or anything,” but I’d love to be your wife, “Because I’m not going to be around here for long.”

“You say it like you’re going to die instead of moving away,” he rolled his eyes. “Shut it. I’m just telling you not to rely on me for everything. I’m not going to die,” you said, trying your best to keep most of your attention on the road, the flashing lights of the passing cars. Seokjin was the biggest distraction (and oddly enough, you loved it).

“Mhmm,” Seokjin slowly hummed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he sank back on the seat. Hand finding the mp3 player, he turned a quiet melody on. 

In the midst of the wet season, today after the rain, 

a lukewarm wind blows through the quiet night streets.

You sighed, head nodding along to the rhythm of the song. “So you’re really moving away?” At his naive question, you turned silent. 

You were moving, in just less than two months, in fact, to another city. You were leaving the apartment you shared with Seokjin, all those laughs and joy you two shared. It hurt a little. Just a little. Knowing Seokjin didn’t find it difficult at all, it helped.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

Unlike the pain you had, leaving behind someone so precious to you, Seokjin didn’t like you in that way at all. And maybe that’s for the better, you smiled faintly, because at least then, you wouldn’t have to go through the pain of parting. After all, parting only matters if both individuals care, right?

And if he didn’t care, then it was all for the best.

“Yup,” you replied. “But anyway, you came here with friends, didn’t you?” You raised a brow, stealing a glance at him before turning back to the road. 

He nodded lightly. “They left me.”

“Wow.”

“What do you mean “wow”?” He pouted. “I was so scared someone was going to kidnap me for my handsome face or something.” 

You rolled your eyes at the so-very-humble answer. “You’ve got some great friends there.”

“They aren’t even my friends, just co-workers.”

“Shows how much they respect you,” you grinned, watching how his brows furrowed and he pouted even more. “You’re really mean.” Letting a snicker escape, you rolled eyes once more. “I saved you from potentially getting kidnapped, like you said. I’m not mean. Your co-workers are. Maybe you should get some better friends.”

“Like who?”

Your face felt hot at the reply that came to you, as you hesitated whether to say it or not. “I don’t… know. Like… me, maybe,” you shrugged it off, heart skipping beats. You kept your attention on the road, not wanting to see his reaction.

I can’t hold it, I can’t reach it.

I can’t hold it, that heart of yours.

He chuckled, patting you on the head. “Careful, we could get killed, y’know,” you said, referring to the traffic ahead. Your gaze averted to him for a moment, taking in the sweet look on his face. That pretty smile, those starry eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind dying with you, it’s fine.”

The temptation to pull him in and kiss him kept growing. Your grip on the wheel tightened, you barely being able to suppress the desire to tell him about your true feelings.

“And what if I lived and you didn’t make it?”

“Then you could tell everyone that the last person I ever looked at was you.”

You tried not to laugh, you really did; but ended up giggling anyway. “You’re ridiculous. I’d never let you die.”

“For as long as you’re here, I know I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Because… I-I’ll keep you safe.”

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

I want to know how you feel.

══════◄••❀••►══════

“YN-ah,” Seokjin pouted the next weekend, arm around yours, head resting on your shoulder. “Give me attention.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m working on my blog, Jin, I can’t right now—”

“Do you want me to cry, then?” he smirked, causing you to sigh. “I love the way your hair smells. It’s pretty too.” Managing to somehow keep your cool, and refrain from melting into a pool of milk (you did not like coffee, had never drunk tea. Milk was the only thing your body had, excluding water, you mused), you looked to Seokjin with a very intimidating face. It didn’t faze him.

“Stop acting like a creep. What do you want?” You quirked up a brow, curiosity increasing as the slight annoyance slowly locked itself away. You could never be really mad at Seokjin, sadly.

“So,” unwrapping his arm from yours, he pulled out his phone, “I made a Tinder account recently, and—”

“...You what?”

“I made a Tinder account! Get over it. So...” 

You watched him in silence as he opened the app, showing you the conversations he had with his matches, the very recent one only finished fifteen minutes ago—

As he came to you, just fifteen minutes ago. And here you thought he liked you. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

Our feelings can’t become the same.

You’re really pathetic, you thought, biting down your lip so you wouldn’t break down crying right next to him. How do you be enough for him…?

“...And she’s the last girl I talked with. I really like her, do you think I should take her out? YN?” Seokjin frowned, waving his hand in front of you to catch your attention.

“YN-ah~!?” he exclaimed, making you blink at him in surprise. “Oh.” The cute frown on his face was the first thing you saw, bringing you back to reality. “What are you thinking about? The blog?” 

Unwillingly, you slowly brought yourself to nod. “...What were you asking?”

“I really like her. Should I take her out?”

She’s pretty. Really pretty. You could see her and Seokjin together. It made you happy. As happy as you could be, you added, blinking away the tears that suddenly made themselves known.

“Y-Yeah! Give it a try. I’m… I’m sure she’ll love it.”

You didn’t spend the night working on that blog. You spent it crying over someone you’d never have.

I love you so much. Why don’t you notice me? Try as you might, you hated this stupid little crush (you promised to yourself you’d never call it love), but it wasn’t as if you could stop it. Everyday, you’d wake up to his sleepy face, sweet little acts of affection, the cute pouts and laughs. Even that would change very soon. And you couldn’t stop that either.

What could you even do?

Even so, I could never hate you.

══════◄••❀••►══════

It’s two weeks later that Seokjin came back to your shared apartment, all down and pouty.

“What happened?” you asked, adjusting the space on the couch so he could sit comfortably next to you. Your laptop sat on your lap, as you typed away. 

“I messed up. She called me cocky.” 

You bit down on your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Oh, really now? Who would’ve guessed?”

“Shut up. I feel really sad right now.” He rested his head against your arm, pulling you closer. Pink dusted your cheeks, you felt light enough to float away but you tried your best to show you were unaffected.

Shining with light, it steals my gaze,

I want to hold it.

Putting your laptop down on the coffee table, you sank back on the seat, hands finding Seokjin’s soft hair. “It’s okay. There are… others who like you for who you are,” you said, smiling faintly as your fingers gently glided through his locks.

“You don’t think I’m cocky?”

“Nope. Not at all. I don’t think that you’re cocky, maybe sometimes a little too much to handle, but—”

“Hey!” Seeing that frown on his face, you became silent. “Mmm, well… If you want, we could watch a movie together. Try and cheer you up, yeah?”

“Yeah! Forget Tinder, I’ve got such a great friend like you.” 

Your shoulders drooped slightly at the last few words, but he didn’t pause to give you time to reply. Taking your laptop and opening another tab, he started typing, “I want to see that horror one a co-worker suggested a few days ago—”

Obviously, horror movies gave you the heebie-jeebies, but that didn’t stop Seokjin from putting on one before, and it wouldn’t that day, either. At least, you had an excuse to cling onto him for the night.

“I’m scared,” you said, blanket in hand. You had woken up at two in the morning, and too paranoid to go back to sleep, woke Seokjin up by knocking on his bedroom’s door. 

“Are you serious?” He didn’t seem annoyed, but instead raised a brow. 

“Yeah, what do you mean if I’m—”

“You’re a twenty-five year old adult, wearing her pajamas and asking for her roommate to sleep with her because she watched a horror movie and is too scared to sleep alone,” he rolled his eyes at the end, making you huff. “Well, we’re friends, consider this a sleepover, just lemme—”

“Argh, fine. Come in.”

“Can I, uhm, sleep in the bed?”

“You sleep on the floor.”

“What!?” you exclaimed, making Seokjin groan. “Nevermind. Get in the bed.”

At least you got to hug him as you tried to sleep. Keyword; tried. It was hard not to just admire his glowing features, or freak out over the fact that if you moved any closer, you could’ve kissed him. Your heart couldn’t slow down, instead racing faster and faster until all you could do was blink at him, wanting to tell him how much you liked him.

His heart, on the other hand, just a little way from you, was calm. You watched him as he breathed in, then out, and in again, only to breathe out once more at an even pace. Unlike you, who lost her breath every time she discovered a new thing to count about Seokjin.

How many times do you breathe in a minute?

How many eyelashes do you really have?

How the fuck are you so amazing?

It was another restless night, except this time, in the arms of someone you loved.

I want to try touching it,

you are just like this firefly.

══════◄••❀••►══════

It’s the weekend before you have to move on that coming Thursday. Incheon was a bustling city, Seokjin had told you, you’d enjoy it a lot more than you did here at Gwacheon. But you had been in this place since you were born, always loved the locals. The best point was that you knew the city like the back of your hand, exploring and blogging about your adventures.

If it wasn’t for the company that you wanted to work for, wanting you to work from their building itself, not from home, you wouldn’t have to leave everything behind. Both Gwacheon and Seokjin.

Though you had always wanted to work for them, so that was one good thing about it, you supposed. Besides, driving to work everyday from Gwacheon and taking about an hour to reach there and then driving yourself home for another hour? Too exhausting. 

You were eventually going to buy yourself a house anyway, as soon as you got enough money to buy one. Till then, you’d settle for an apartment at Incheon, a lot more convenient since it was closer to work.

That meant leaving Seokjin and Gwacheon was something you couldn’t change either way.

It still hurt. But that’s fine. You were going to be fine.

As a sort of farewell, you and Seokjin decided to go around and visit places on that weekend, since he had the two days off from work. You had been trying to keep your distance so as to not get attached even more, but that didn’t seem to work, because as much as you pulled away from Seokjin, he pulled you even closer.

Still.

A day out wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Gimme your ice cream,” Seokjin pouted. 

“Buy yourself another cone if you want, I’m not giving you mine,” you frowned, rolling your eyes as you licked it over, again. 

“How rude.” Saying so, Seokjin rushed over to the nearby ice cream parlor to buy himself some more.

You lied to yourself; this day was painful as hell.

“I want to buy you this necklace,” he said, pointing to the cute accessory at display right behind the glass. 

“That’s… I’d like that, actually.”

“But did you give me your ice cream?” He raised a brow, looking at you in a suspicious manner. 

“...No?” you squeaked, before watching a frown tug his plump lips down. 

“Then why should I buy you the necklace?”

“Aw c’mon!” You stomped on the ground, crossing your arms when you realised he wasn’t listening to you. Sighing, he shook his head as he came to the conclusion that you weren’t backing down. 

“Alright, you big baby, I’ll buy it for you.” Rolling his eyes, the two of you entered the shop, particularly you, excited.

Are you ready? I still want to look.

Are you ready? At that heart.

“Thanks for today,” you said, a little more quieter than usual. Maybe it was the blues of leaving your home. Not Gwacheon, but Seokjin— your real home.

“No problem,” he replied, smiling, no, not cockily, but sweetly; actually smiling. Flicking on the mp3 player once more as you drove the two of you home, or rather, to your apartment— because you were already home with Seokjin— you heard the same music playing as you had heard weeks ago.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

You blushed a little, turning red. “I appreciate this a lot more than you think.”

“I know.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, smiling faintly as you looked down to glance at the necklace you were wearing, the one he bought you. 

“Thank you, YN.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

Thursday. It was the moving day. 

Part of you was excited for what was to come next, however overshadowed by the solemn feeling of leaving behind everything you know to work on your own. Especially Seokjin.

“Don’t forget to call me when you reach, okay?” 

You nodded to his words. The last of the boxes were being taken away by the truck, to be dropped off at the new flat. You could only hope for someone to help you get those boxes up to your room once you got there, because you definitely couldn’t carry those. It was only because of Seokjin that you had gotten those boxes outside from the current place.

“I—” Your voice failed you at that point.

You didn’t think about it. Only moved in to pull him close as you felt tears boiling in your eyes. He put his arms around you in return, running his hand over your back to calm you down. “I’ll miss you so so much,” you sniffed a little, never wanting to let go.

“Me too. I’ll miss you.”

He’d miss you. Somehow, the pain of parting felt a little more heavier then. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

I want to know how you feel.

However strongly you held onto him, time would never let you say the words you wished you could to Seokjin. Taking in his features, his scent so you’d never be able to rid yourself of how beautiful he was; the one you loved. You wanted to hold on, tell him to never let go, maybe then, at least then, you could wake up to a new, bright morning with him next to you—

“...Promise me you’ll come back to visit?”

“I will. I promise. You too, okay?”

“I promise.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

August 19th. It was about 8 p.m. when your phone rang, and you had to look away from the computer. The office place was filled with the sound of distant conversations, papers being handled left and right.

You picked up your phone with a sigh, a little annoyed that it ruined your momentum.

It was Seokjin.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Why is he calling me? It hadn’t even been a full month since you moved out, was he simply that smitten by you? You had tried so hard, so hard to move on from him, and drowning yourself in work seemed to be the best way to get your mind off him. But now that he was calling you…

There was this sick feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t ignore, you weren’t sure if it was just your anxiety or something else, something bigger.

Regardless, you put the phone to your ear, your heart palpitations being the only sound you could hear.

Then came him panting. “YN, please— YN, help me,” he was on the verge of tears, you could tell. Your hand found the desk for support as you stood up, alarmed. “Jin, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry. I forgot to close the window, and I don’t know how, but some fucking man jumped into the apartment and he has a gun, I’m so fucking scared, YN, please—”

You took in sharp breaths, head zooming in and out consciousness, it seemed, as the world seemed to spin around you. “Jin, call the police.”

“I did. They aren’t here yet, they’ll take time, I’m so fucking scared right how, please help me.” 

You trembled, hearing him sob on the other side. You wished so bad that you could be there, to help him, keep him calm, hug him, just so nothing would—

The desperation in his voice left you panting.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m in the bathroom, I’m hiding, but he has a gun, I locked the door, what do I do!? YN, please come and get me out of here, please—”

“I’m coming. Stay there.”

Saying so, you quickly grabbed your bag, and telling your manager about how you had a family emergency, left the building.

Getting into the car, your heart was racing at the speed of light. You weren’t sure what to do, it’d take about an hour and a half with this traffic to reach your old apartment. You weren’t even sure if you could drive in this state.

But you did it anyway. You’d do anything for Seokjin.

Dialing his number as you stopped at the red traffic signal, you knew what you were doing was bad, but you needed to know he was okay.

“Jin, are you okay!? I’m coming, please, stay there,” you waited hesitantly for a response, and then heard a hiccup. He usually started to hiccup when he cried. 

“P-Please get here quickly… The police still haven't come and I hear him in the living room, I really need you right now, please…”

“It’ll be okay. I’m coming.” It enraged you to know that the living room you shared with Seokjin, the one where you worked, the one you sat in watching movies together was now being checked by some burglar so he could steal things from there. But even so, every second that passed made you even more paranoid, since you kept wanting to make sure Seokjin was safe.

“Please don’t go out. Lock the door— I love you.” Your blood ran cold. Heart beating faster, as if that was possible, your world seemed like an illusion, zooming around in circles, almost as if someone casted a spell on you. You sighed shakily, your breath leaving you.

Why did you…? Stupid YN, you can’t tell him this, right now, you—

You shook your head. “I-I… I want you to be safe. Okay?” it was quiet on the line for a while, but you heard him hum in response. You sighed once again, body tense. “Please, take care... I love you.”

And saying so, with no more courage left within you, you ended the call.

══════◄••❀••►══════

You reached there about an hour later. Things are a blur from then. It all happened so fast, so suddenly…

You bite down your bottom lip, tears boiling in your eyes as you put on a song, starting the engine of your car.

I can’t hold it, I can’t reach it.

I can’t hold it, that heart of yours.

You remember the apartment being quiet after you entered, dark and silent. You didn’t have anything to protect yourself with, in case the intruder was still there, so you managed to get the frying pan from the kitchen without walking in on anyone.

Inspecting the whole apartment carefully, you concluded that the burglar had left.

But how did it continue? When did you two simply lose your minds to the point Seokjin had to be admitted to a hospital, to the point that you, despite seeing him laying in a pool of blood, could not lift a finger? 

You found him in the bathroom. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

He laid there, covered in the blood; the sight took your breath away. You were frozen, you were stuck in time until your breath returned, until your heart skipped a beat. You hastily took out your phone, tried calling for an ambulance. It was then the police finally managed to come, but it was too late.

You were all too late.

I want to cry when I feel this way.

The ambulance came. They took him to the hospital, you went with them. And then—

Our feelings can’t become the same.

They announced him dead. He wasn’t shot, the doctors explained. He had lost too much blood after he slipped and hit his head on the bathtub, they guessed, trying to get out of the bathroom.

It doesn’t matter. 

Nothing matters.

You died when he did. Home died when Seokjin did. You promised yourself you’d never call it love, but fuck, you love him. You love him so much. And you miss him, now that you are driving home from the hospital.

Tears brim your eyes as you look down at the necklace he bought you. It reminded you of your day out together, except… except he is gone. Gone, spirited away, whatever the hell people called it. He’s dead.

I want to hear you laugh, hear you chide me for eating too much.

I want to see you smile, see you pout.

I want to brush your hair, I want to hug you.

I want to tell you about how you’re my most favourite thing in the whole, entire world.

You hum along to the song he loved, the one he always played in your car.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

You’re still not over it. Over the fact he died, that you won’t be able to hear his cute laugh anymore, or the way he winked at you everytime you made eye contact, or the promises that you had made together, now all broken because of him not… being here anymore.

And it hurts as if it is the end of the world. All of it hurt. How do you live without the only person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? 

Did he even like you? You’ll never know. 

You could cry all you want, but he is gone. A part of you expects him to laugh about it, about how you’re crying over him, or for him to hug you, tell you it’s going to be okay.

But how can he do that? How do you tell him you love him more than anything else, that you want to see him laugh once more?

There’s so many words you wish you could’ve said. “I love you,” were only three of them. You could say you were driving home, but home resided with Seokjin.

There is this hollow feeling in your chest, eating you away as seconds slip by.

There once was a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.

Hotaru.

[buoyantsaturn]

Out of Order (1/1)

summary: It was tradition on the first day of fall for all the year-round campers to sneak into the Aphrodite cabin after lights out for a few rounds of truth or dare.

word count: 2491

read on ao3

It was tradition on the first day of fall for all the year-round campers to sneak into the Aphrodite cabin after lights out for a few rounds of truth or dare. Seeing as Nico had agreed to stay at camp rather than wonder the globe for the foreseeable future and was now officially a year-round camper, he was dragged from his cabin in the middle of the night by a grinning blond who, for once, wasn’t wearing his trademark green scrubs. 

Normally, Nico would be ecstatic to find Will whisking him away in the middle of the night, but when they wound up outside the Aphrodite cabin, Nico started feeling anxious. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise,” Will told him with a tug on his hand. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Nico grumbled indignantly, and trudged into the cabin behind Will.

It was immediately overwhelming. Nico was used to his own very empty cabin and the moderately filled infirmary - but this? The cabin was practically overflowing with campers, laying on bunk beds and sitting on the floor and standing near the walls. Nico didn’t understand how much noise there could be in a single building. How could any of them hold a conversation in a place like this? He squeezed Will’s hand, about to pull him close and whisper-shout that he was just going to go back to bed and forget that he’d seen any of this, when the rest of the cabin seemed to notice Will’s presence.

“Will!” one of the Aphrodite girls - Nico never learned their names because they hardly ever went to the arena - exclaimed, and grabbed Will’s free hand to pull him further into the cabin, thus dragging Nico further inside as well. “We were waiting for you! What took you so long?”

“I had to get Nico,” he said, and pulled Nico closer to bring him to the girl’s attention. 

“Oh,” she said, and Nico saw her gaze flicker down to their joined hands. Her eyes widened before she looked back up at Will. “Oh!”

Will didn’t seem to notice. “But we’re here now. What’s first on the agenda?” 

“Veteran’s choice.”

Nico didn’t understand what she meant by that, but by the surprised look on Will’s face, Nico figured that it was something of a big deal to him. 

“No way. Me?” Will asked. He started looking around the room frantically, spouting off names of campers that Nico recognized from the summer or from years past, though none of the names were of people present. “But… Not even Annabeth is here?”

“Nope, she’s seasonal now, remember?” the girl replied. 

“Seasonal?” Nico cut in, cocking his head in confusion.

Will squeezed his hand, all of his attention straying to Nico and making his heart flutter at the feeling of those incredibly blue eyes on him. “She’s in school now. This is the first time since she was...what, seven? That she hasn’t been a year-round camper.” He looked back to the Aphrodite girl. “Have I really been here the longest out of anyone?”

She nodded. “That’s right! So you pick the games tonight!”

Will grinned. He raised one hand into the air and called out, “Everybody, circle up for truth or dare!”

A cheer went up as campers formed a circle on the floor of the cabin. Some had climbed down from bunks to get a spot in the ring, while others had scrambled up from the floor so that they wouldn’t get caught playing. Will pulled Nico into the circle, tugging him down to sit beside him in the ring. He kicked his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles, and let go of Nico’s hand for the first time since they arrived to lean back on his hands. 

“Alright, alright, settle in, y’all. We’re in for a long night,” Will said as the chatter of the room quieted down around them. “You all know the rules of this one. No ask-backs. You can’t pick the same answer three times in a row. Refuse to do the truth, you do the dare, and vice versa. Any questions?”

“Kinda,” Nico muttered without the intention of being heard. 

Will shot him a grin and patted his leg. “You’ll catch on quick, Sunshine.”

He turned back to the rest of the group, scanned the faces of those sitting with them in the circle with the same expression that Nico had seen him examining injuries with, like he was deciding what part of the patient was the weakest, the most vulnerable, the part that needed immediate attention. 

“Cecil.”

A groan came from across the circle. “Come on, man! Why do you always pick me?”

Will shot him a grin. “Truth or dare, coward.”

Cecil let out a heavy sigh. “Truth.”

“Do you still have a crush on that Demeter girl?”

Cecil flopped onto his back with an even louder groan, covering his face with his hands. 

The game still didn’t make much sense to Nico as time wore on, but he tried his best to roll with the punches. Someone asked him about the skull ring he always wore, and someone else asked about the coolest place he’d ever visited. Then, when he wasn’t allowed to say truth for the third time in a row, he was dared to steal something from another cabin - so he’d shadowtraveled away to the Apollo cabin and came back wearing one of Will’s flannel shirts. 

He didn’t understand the weird looks everybody kept giving him after that, nor did he understand why Will suddenly made a new rule that he could veto any questions asked that were too personal. Nico just didn’t want to accidentally steal from someone he didn’t know, and it was starting to get kind of cold in the cabin - why shouldn’t he borrow one of Will’s shirts?

It was Lou Ellen’s turn next. “Will, do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”

Nico thought he could hear Will’s breath hitch next to him, even with the chorus of ooos that rose throughout the room. When he looked up at Will’s face, he was just as calm and collected as always. 

“You didn’t ask for truth or dare,” he said instead of answering.

“You took dare the last two rounds,” she countered. “There’s no getting out of this one, Sunny Boy, and vetoing will just give us the answer anyway.”

Will rolled his eyes. “You should be a lawyer, Lou. Yes, I have a crush on someone in this room. You already knew that, of course, but thanks for making it public knowledge.”

“What are friends for?” she replied, smiling brightly. 

“Whatever. Anyway, now that it’s back to me, I’m calling this the last round of this game. If anybody’s dying to embarrass somebody in this game, this is your last chance. Chiara, truth or dare?”

The last round went surprisingly quickly, though Nico suspected it was because people were getting eager to end things. He was getting pretty tired himself, and wouldn’t have minded heading to bed over an hour ago. However, when Will announced the end of one game, he started another. Around them, people jumped in and out of the circle. Some were grabbing snacks or running to the bathroom between games, others were jumping in for a new game they preferred while others ran away from a new game they despised. Someone insisted that everyone sticking around for the next game swapped seats so that they weren’t next to the same people for another whole game. Nico ended up between Kayla and Julia, and directly across the circle from Will. 

Once everyone was settled again, Will said, “New game: paranoia. Whisper a question into the ear of the person next to you. They have to answer out loud with the name of a person in this room. Then, I’ll flip a drachma - heads, you say the question out loud, tails, you don’t. Anybody wanna start us off?”

Valentina’s hand shot into the air. “Ooh, I do!” She turned to the boy sitting next to her and whispered something into his ear.

“Oh, easy,” he said. “It’s Nico.”

Nico’s head snapped toward Will, just in time to watch him flip the coin. “Tails. Let’s move on.”

Nico pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to hide behind his own legs. 

A few rounds later, Kayla was whispering into Nico’s ear, “Who is the funniest person in the room?”

Nico took a second to scan the circle, though he hadn’t spent enough time with anyone to know whether or not they were funny. “Um. Will?”

Across the circle, Will seemed to perk up at the mention of his name. He flipped the coin and smiled when he said, “Heads!”

“I asked him who he thought was the funniest person here,” Kayla explained. 

“Dude!” Cecil exclaimed, leaning forward so that Nico could see him around Julia. “No way is Will funnier than I am!”

“Whatever, Cecil,” Will told him, still smiling brightly. “Just let him think my bad jokes are funny. Anyway, it’s your turn, Nico.”

“Oh, um.” Nico thought for a second before he turned to whisper in Julia’s ear. 

The game continued on. Lou Ellen and Cecil both admitted that Will was their best friend, which led to a short argument over who Will’s best friend had to be. By the time Will’s turn came around and he said Nico’s name in answer to whatever question had been whispered into his ear, Cecil exclaimed, “You better not mean that Nico’s your best friend over me!”

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Will replied, grinning, and flipped the coin in his hand. “It’s heads.”

Damien said, “I asked him who has the best hair.”

Nico barely noticed the light shade of pink growing on Will’s cheeks as he said, “Okay! Everybody find a new seat for round two.”

Nico stayed seated while the rest of the room moved around him, and suddenly Will was sitting beside him once again. 

“Hey,” Will told him, bumping his shoulder against Nico’s. “Having fun yet?”

“It’s...certainly interesting,” Nico replied. 

“Yeah, they’re all kind of a lot,” Will laughed. “You’ll get used to everybody by Christmas, trust me.”

“Will, it’s your turn,” Austin reminded him from across the circle. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will said, waving a hand at his brother. Will leaned closer to Nico, his breath fanning against Nico’s cheek as he whispered, “Who would brag about being able to take down a monster, but would run back crying if they actually saw a monster in the woods?”

Nico had to really focus on Will’s words rather than the feeling of Will so close to him. “It’s Cecil, no question.”

Will snorted rather unattractively and dropped his forehead onto Nico’s shoulder.

“What did you say? What was the question?” Cecil demanded. 

Will, still laughing and with his head still resting on Nico’s shoulder, flipped the drachma; it was tails. “Don’t worry about it, Cecil. It’s better this way, trust me.” Will lifted his head and bumped his shoulder into Nico’s once more as he said, “You’re up.”

Nico was growing to hate the part of this game where he had to think up questions, so he just copied Will’s instead. Lou Ellen answered without hesitation: “Cecil.”

Will flipped the coin. “Tails.”

“Oh, come on!”

Nico grew more and more tired as the second round of the game went on - nobody mentioned either him or Will for most of the round, and Nico was practically lulled to sleep by Will’s frequent call of heads or tails. He didn’t realize that he was resting against Will’s side until Will pulled away slightly in order for someone to whisper in his ear. Either way, Nico didn’t move, and instead let his eyes slip shut. 

“I’m not answering that,” Will said, his laughter tinged with discomfort. 

“C’mon, he’s asleep! He’ll never have to know!” somebody else called from across the room. 

“Oh my gods, you guys set this up, didn’t you? This was all just a big ploy to get me to admit my feelings for Nico! You’re all the worst friends ever.”

Nico’s eyes snapped open. There was no way he heard that right. There was no way that Will actually liked him back...right?

He lifted his head from Will’s shoulder, and Will turned toward him with a look of dread on his face. “Oh, Styx,” Will whispered, and suddenly jumped to his feet. He announced, “Game over,” and ran out the door, slamming it behind himself.

The cabin was silent for a single minute before campers started shoving at each other and blaming everyone else for ruining the night. Nico found himself stuck to the floor by the look of betrayal on Will’s face as he ran from the cabin. Should he go after Will? Would Will even want to see him after that? There was only one way for him to find out.

Nico stretched the nearest shadows toward him until the space around him was dark enough for him to slip into the shadows and disappear, thinking only of reappearing wherever Will had gone to. 

He wound up on the Aphrodite cabin’s porch. 

“Will?” Nico said quietly, and in the darkness he saw Will rubbing furiously at his face.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Will croaked.

Nico sat down beside him on the steps, and Will looked away. “Hey,” Nico said, reaching out for Will’s cheek and turning his head back toward him - Will’s eyes dropped to his lap. “Why did you leave?”

Will laughed bitterly. “Because that was embarrassing.”

“This whole night as been embarrassing for me,” Nico told him, and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “You didn’t see me running out of there.”

Will groaned and dropped his forehead onto Nico’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. This wasn’t how I planned on you finding out.”

Nico pushed him back and held Will’s face with both hands, forcing eye contact between them. “You wanted me to find out?”

“Um...yeah? I mean, eventually,” Will told him. “I like you, but I just wasn’t going to tell you until I figured out whether or not you like me too.”

Nico let go of Will in order to flail his hands around for emphasis. “You were going to tell me? I was prepared to take this to my grave!”

“You like me?” Will asked. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s embarrassing!”

“Would you just kiss already?” 

Both heads snapped toward the cabin behind them, where the doors and windows had opened to reveal the entire population of year-round campers watching their flustered exchange. 

“Oh my gods,” Will cried, burying his face in his hands, though Nico could still see the bright red tips of his ears. 

Nico pulled one of Will’s hands away and told him, “Hold on tight,” before he tugged Will with him into a shadow, and the two disappeared. 

thanks for reading!!!

buy me a coffee | more will solace week stuff

[bubmyg]

Can u write about being best friends with yoongi but recently you realized you kinda uhhh LOVE him so you’ve been acting different and a bit more flustered and he’s trying to figure out why and is sort of worried he did something wrong uwu

genre/warnings: slice of life, f2l, hoseok Knows, soft and sweet and cute :’-(

prompt: based on an article from business insider “7 signs someone is in love with you”, if you want the link lmk, i’m afraid to put one bc of tumblr’s whole link situation jfakldfjslafd aka a series of interactions that confirm your suspicion that you are, very much, in love with your best friend

word count: 3,383

1. they have fun with you even if the task at hand is not fun, per se

“Hoseok really isn’t going to help us clean?”

The red plastic cup ricocheting off your chest to fall into the open trash bag you held answered your question but you glanced up at Yoongi with a raised eyebrow anyway. He was looking at you, that look plastered across his features, hands blindly reaching to collect another pile of discarded cups in slender fingers as a challenging eyebrow quirked to match your own. 

“Yeah,” You agreed to the silence, a soft laugh leaving you, “You’re right.”

“We don’t have designated drivers here,” Yoongi jammed another stack of cups into the bag, holding your eye contact, “We have designated you get to clean up the following morning.” 

“But it’s always you cleaning.”

His fingers brushed yours as he took the filled bag from you, letting it plop on the tile with a loud clattering of plastic and aluminum into each other. The white was scrunched between his palms and tied into a hard knot, the contents in the bag sinking into the floor. 

Yoongi nodded, “Exactly.” 

Your hip pressed against the lip in the counter top, watching as he waddled around the side of the island, depositing the bag with the collection of others. A fond smile curled on each corner of your lips as you eyed him shake his head at the sheer amount of trash collecting near the threshold of the kitchen, cursing something about never again under his breath. 

“Can I at least turn on some music?” You slid your phone from your pocket, thumb already dancing across the screen, “So I can hear less of your complaints?”

“I’m not complaining about you.” 

Some obnoxious pop song trilled from the speakers on your phone as you deposited it back to the counter. A hesitant shimmy had you one, two, four steps closer to Yoongi with a soft grin. When you were close enough to see the fond caramel seep into the deep set chocolate of his irises did you shove at his waist, stepping around him to snatch a new trash bag. 

“Yeah,” You teased, bumping his hip as you thumbed apart the ends of the bag, “You better not be.”

“Can you at least change this song?” Yoongi was whining now, lips trembling on the edge of a pout. “I can’t dance to this.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “We’re dancing? I thought we were cleaning.”

He rolled his eyes, shrugging past you to grab your phone. The password came to seasoned thumbs effortlessly, something that earned a screech of protest from the back of your throat but he’d already changed the song to something any entirely new shade of obnoxious. 

Yoongi came back to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to elicit a burn to your cheeks and a gasp from parted lips as he spun you in a messy circle, baggy sweatpants brushing against the tops of your feet, hand splayed firmly on the small of your back over your thin shirt. 

“We’re doing both,” He deadpanned.

2. they look at you…a lot

A dry mouth not sated by any amount of water you downed from the glass in front of you and fingers aching to turn over your phone incessantly buzzing with notifications from you friend who’d likely just received your panicked holy shit he looks so good text didn’t ease the stupid amount of nerves buzzing through your veins. 

That’s how you found yourself gaping at Yoongi’s profile, again, drilling a hole in the part of his cheek flushed pink from the ballroom lights blanketing your table and the bow tie cinched around his neck. Conversation swirled around you but it was on ears of deaf ignorance, the only objective opinion in your conscious plagued with a neanderthal chant. 

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi—

Why you agreed to go to a gala for Yoongi’s company with Yoongi, you would never know, nor would the six unworn outfits sprawled haphazardly across your bedroom. The dress you settled on itched, there were six new blisters scattered around your feet, your hair had gotten stuck in bits of charred chicken at least four times. 

And nothing said I’m in love with my best friend like staggering along behind him like a lost puppy with a permanent stutter in your speech every time he introduced you as this is my friend—

The slide of attentive dark eyes to you blatantly staring in his peripheral had your gaze jerking back to your lap, clammy fingers wringing together. The jewelry pasted to your skin slid as you worked, the ring on your thumb and index finger threatening to slide off. You jammed the metal, hard, against your knuckles, daring to peek back toward where Yoongi sat.  

His chin was craned completely for you, questioning smile the ghost of a dimple in his cheeks. More of his teeth appeared at your surprise, leaning closer to you. You jumped when Yoongi’s hand slid around your thigh, gasp swallowing hard down your throat when his breath brushed against the shell of your ear, lightly squeezing the supple skin covered by pleated silk.

“The chicken sucks,” He mumbled, thumb brushing across the seam of your dress to meet bare skin, “We’ll go get something else when we leave.”

Friend. You are a friend. Friend! 

“T-thank—” Your stutter returned on account of the cool links of his bracelet sliding into the crease of your thighs, “Thank god.” 

The tip of his nose brushed against your cheek as he pulled away with a rumbling chuckle, tsking playfully in his throat. His hand lingering and brushed off your skin and as if releasing the exhale in your lungs, your shoulders slumped all at once in a rush to grab for your water. 

If Yoongi weren’t trying to impress for a raise, you would have asked for something much stronger than the ice cubes you gulped down. Whole. 

3. they pay more attention to you

Hoseok ripped open the door before your wrist had even snapped to knock a second time, making no move to step out of the doorway as his stature sunk into the door frame. He regarded you with raised eyebrows, ones that disappeared into shaggy, freshly dyed red. 

“Why do you even knock anymore?” The bright headed boy contained a shrieking laugh with the back of his wrist, “We need to get you a key made.”

Your cheeks flamed, weight shifting from foot to foot, palms growing clammy around the hoodie you curled against your chest. 

“I’m not here that often,” You protested.

His stature rocked, taking up the opposite end of the door frame. “This is the third time you’ve been here today, love.”

“I can’t help it that Yoongi forgot his wallet in my car. Or needed me to listen to that new track he’s been working on,” You hesitated, palms flexing around the soft cotton, “…or forgot his hoodie in my closet.”

Hoseok snorted, “In your closet, huh?”

“Just let me—”

“Will you stop pestering our guests?” 

A lumbering flash later and a half asleep Yoongi was behind Hoseok’s shoulder. Curled knuckles dug into swollen eyelids, black t-shirt riding up over his hips as he yawned, elbows curling above his head. 

“After they’re here, at minimum, sixteen hours a day, they aren’t guests anymore, they’re roommates,” Hoseok’s thumb and index finger brushed together underneath your nose, “Careful and I’ll start making you pay rent.”

Yoongi’s knuckles pushed into the center of his friend’s chest, moving him out of the way to cup your elbow and drag you into the apartment. “Does more work around here than you ever do,” His palm slid down your forearm, dropping limply against his side, “Can I trade you out, Hoseok?”

Faintly, the tune of Can You Feel the Love Tonight whistled through Hoseok’s lips as he stepped around you to stalk into the depths of the apartment but you couldn’t pin point for sure when Yoongi’s hands were curling around your knuckles and taking the hoodie from your grasp. 

“Stealing my stuff again?” He teased. 

“Something like that...”

4. they show empathy — in good times and bad

You pressed your cheek against Yoongi’s arm, listening attentively as he ranted. You nodded where needed, hummed during pauses for swallowing, never stopped the brushed of your thumb across the inside of his thumb where he clutched onto your hand. 

“I don’t know why I expected anything less than the position going to Seokjin but—” His voice broke for the first time, knuckles white in your grasp, “—I don’t know."

You shifted, chin rutting into his chest, shoulders sagging as you offered a sad smile up at him. He mirrored the gesture, eyes dropping quickly from yours as the grip on your hand lessened. 

“There will be more opportunities, yes?” 

Yoongi shrugged, a full bodied movement. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, swelling below his cupid’s bow, rasping, “Probably. I just—I just really wanted it. You know?”

The syntax telling your brain that would be really dumb if you did that came after the first tear leaked from the corner of your eye, rolling down the slope of your nose. You laughed in spite of the second and third that followed it, shaking your head as your chin dropped.

But the descend didn’t get far as a thumb and index finger were curling around your chin, lifting your gaze. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi demanded softly, laughing along with you. He dropped your hand to cup your cheeks in both palms, fighting at the onslaught with his thumbs, “Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t like it that you’re upset,” You sniffled, “and I want to fight your boss.”

He laughed, unabashed and full of gums, index fingers curling to brush underneath your eyes, tucking into your hair and dropping at the nape of your neck. “Well, please stop crying,” His tongue traced his bottom lip, an attempt to contain the wide spread of his smile but to no avail, “That makes me more upset.”

5. they remember the little things

"Oh, good, you’re here again,” Hoseok dryly commented as you shoved past him in the doorway. 

“Is he in his office?”

“Hello to you too, Hobi, yeah, I’m just fantastic and I love seeing your bright and smiling face every time I show up at this apartment which is a lot, if you didn’t know—” 

You answered your own question, nudging open the frosted glass with your hip the second you saw a fuzzy blob twisting about in a desk chair. The bag in hand suddenly felt ten times heavier, the brightly colored ropes knotted at the top burning into the curl of your digits. But you didn’t have time to turn and run because Yoongi had already shrugged out of his earbuds and rolled his chair closer to you. 

“Hey,” He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, reaching a finger out to poke your stomach, “What brings you here?”

The longer your stunned silence lingered in the air, the hotter your skin grew, heart roaring in your ears, white blinding across your eyes. You registered the mold of Yoongi’s plush lips into a frown, pen stained fingertips prodding at your waist against but his voice seemed far away, underwater. 

Or maybe you were finally underwater, giving meaning to the statement in over your head. 

“Happy birthday,” You blurted finally, shoving the obnoxious purple bag against his chest. The heavy box inside swung like a pendulum from where the handles were clutched in your hands, brushing at the front of his hoodie for a few passing moments before he finally was reacting. 

The creaking of the plastic pieces of Yoongi’s chair seemed amplified ten fold in your hyper sensitive ears as his arms curved around your hand, taking the bag from you. The paper creaked now as he placed it down in his lap, carefully sliding his index finger between each side of the bag to pry it open. 

“But it’s not my birthday,” The tape in the center popped apart as he grinned up at you, “It’s not even close to my birthday.”

Your eyes squeezed shut like your fists next to your thighs, “Just open the present, Yoongi.”

He laughed, giggled, high pitched and gleeful as a hand dipped inside the bag, fishing around for the contents inside. He seemed to move in slow motion, brushing the bag aside, placing the nearly flat cardboard box into his lap, prying open the sides, plucking packing peanuts aside to flick in your direction, brushing the box out of his lap to replace it with the foam sleeve. 

“A...” Yoongi trailed off, eyebrows knit in disbelief as he placed the device against his thighs, “...a record player? You bought me a record player?”

“It’s the one you said you wanted, from that one shop you like,” You rushed to explain, “I went and got it after work today and I couldn’t wait until your actual birthday or Christmas or whatever to give it to you so I drove over and—”

You squeaked when he grabbed your wrist, tugging you forward and then down to center his lips against your temple, silencing only your speech but worsening your screeching heart. 

“Thank you,” He spoke against your skin, lips wet and brushing over the spot he’d pecked, “I love it.”

Your heart tripped and clattered up into your throat, clawing desperately to pry apart your lips and scream. 

I love you. 

6. they introduce you to the important people in their lives

Yoongi froze in your doorway when your hand around his wrist was no longer tugging him forward. Another bark. Another titter of nails against hardwood. A hush from you. One more bark. 

“Angel?” He called into your apartment, “What is that?”

The barking ceased but clattering toenails turned into bounding steps. You watched from the hallway as the dog slid, face first, into Yoongi’s shins, tongue lulling from his mouth, tail wagging so violently his entire back end swayed. The startled man crouched, fingers becoming lost in the dog’s thick brown and white fur as his blank stare stayed fixated on a warped spot in the hardwood where the flooring shifted to tile in the kitchen. 

“Meet Coco.”

Yoongi jumped, again, when you shoved yourself off the wall, stalking over to where he scratching long fingers through your dog’s coarse fur. He squinted at you as you joined him, pressing crooked finger tips into the dog’s hips and working soft circles with the blunt edge of your nails. 

“You have a dog?”

You nodded, “I have a dog.”

“Why...” Yoongi trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, “When did you get a dog?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“You hid a dog from me for two weeks—” 

You reached, cupping your palm across his lips until they stopped opening like a fish out of water. “I hid a dog from everyone for two weeks,” You hushed, “So maybe stop announcing it to everyone.”

“He was literally barking when I got here.”

“He literally hasn’t barked since I got him. Just at you,” You sat down, alerting the attention of the dog as it wiggled over to step in between the cross of your lap, “Probably because you’re the first person he’s met besides me.”

Yoongi sat too, still staring at you like you’d grown a toe out of the tip of your nose. “You haven’t told anyone that you have a dog? Not even your landlord?”

“Until I have to pay extra on my rent—” Your lips brushed the top of the dog’s head, “—I’m not going to.”

Silence, and then a hushed, “I can’t believe you have a dog. I can’t believe you told me you have a dog.”

"Careful,” You shifted, dragging the panting dog closer to your chest, “Next I’ll tell you I have a mom and you’ll have to meet her, too.”

7. they often mention the future

Yoongi hummed around the rim of his wine glass, taking another languid sip of crimson red past chapped lips. “What is it about wine that makes you so inquisitive?”

Poking him no longer felt like you were burning a hole in your finger tips, not with the dull buzz of alcohol sating your heart. “Answer my question, Yoongi,” You prodded at his ankle again, traveling higher up his calf where he sat cross legged in front of you. 

“I’ve already answered all your questions tonight so—” He took another sip, letting the glass fall with a clatter against the stone coaster on your coffee table, “—tell me about your future. Where do you see yourself?”

“Can I be honest with you?” Something in your conscious screamed for you to shut up but the round of your lips forcing the words to roll off your tongue failed to listen. 

Yoongi’s curt nod of acknowledgement had you spilling, “I just wanted to see if your plans included me because mine include you—” Your attention fell to the remnants of the bleeding liquid in your glass, swirling it around, “—sorry.”

When he was silent for longer than your heart cared to take, you were shooting up from the couch, nearly spilling the limited wine left in your glass all over the front of your shirt. “I’m getting more,” You announced, tripping again in your desperate attempt to get past him. 

You didn’t get much farther than around the arm of the couch when his fingers brushed across your hips, snagging against the fabric of your shirt to tug. Your glass met the coffee table, mirroring his as he instead curled his fingers around your clenched fists, pulling until you sank back into the couch a space away from him where you’d once been. 

“Of course my plans include you,” He quirked an eyebrow, chasing your gaze that tried to avoid his eyes. When you finally blinked up at him he inquired softly, “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Yoongi, I don’t think we mean it in the same way.”

He hummed, thumbs brushing your knuckles, easing apart the tense muscles the thread your fingers together, holding your encased hands in his lap. “Try me,” He prodded, “What way do you mean?”

“Forget it.”

“No, I won’t forget it,” Yoongi eased himself forward, bringing your hands up to feather his lips over the back of your hands, “Because I tried to forget it but I couldn’t.”

“Because I thought I’d done something wrong. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long and all of the sudden you started to act like I’d burnt you every time I breathed too close. You wouldn’t even make eye contact with me yet you kept showing up at my apartment only to behave like I’d done something wrong.”

“Then I thought about it,” He tilted his head to one side, “and I thought about myself and my feelings and I realized something. Or, I thought I realized something—” When you quirked an eyebrow, he grinned, “—love, you’re not very subtle. I haven’t heard you stutter since that speech you had to give about tarantulas in freshman year communications.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Yoongi leaned closer, “that I’m in love with you, too. Always have been. Always will be.”

You squeaked and you stuttered and you avoided his eye contact all in the span of a half a second, “Who said I’m in love with you?”

He tugged you closer by your intertwined hands, dropping the appendages to curl his fingers underneath your jaw, holding you in place. 

“Well, are you?”

You huffed out a laugh, “Maybe. A little.”

“Can you say it so I can kiss you?” 

“But you can kiss me now.”

“I’m not kissing you until you say it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me?”

You sighed, centering your eyes back to his, finally, finding absolute adoration in your favorite brown eyes that you could have caught on to months ago if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own apprehension. 

“Yes, Yoongi,” The exhale that left you trembled at your shoulders, at your fingers that dared to curl around his wrists, “I love you.”

“Good,” He nodded, awkward albeit, eyes flicking to your mouth, “Uh, can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

[konigsxbrg]

(Kny SS) Sanemi/Giyuu: High school AU

  Here’s the first chapter of my secret santa fic for Lala Zee ! I’m SO sorry I’m so late, I was trying to post a preview as soon as possible so you’d get something but stuff kept coming up. Here is Chapter 1 from your prompt: “Sanemi/Giyuu where Sanemi is the new kid/bad boy of Senior Year in high school and Giyuu is the only one not scared of him.”

I hope to make it justice, and that you enjoy the intro to our boys, here it goes!

Chapter 1

The day had begun like any other school day. The typical high-school noise bottled around him, chattering and giggles and a few whispers (if they could be considered such when they were obviously meant to be heard), some of them pointed at him followed by laughter.

All in all, a typical day for Tomioka Giyuu.

His eyes raised as he looked outside the window. The sky was clear, sun shining quite bright despite the season. Still, he couldn’t help but thinking it would rain later.

His thoughts were interrupted when the background noise came to a stop. English teacher walking in as everyone hurried to their seats, the snickering slowly dying as the class began.

Giyuu tried to pay attention, listening to the explanations and following the mechanical repetitions. But it was in vain. He just couldn’t help but feel slightly bothered by something. A feeling which unfortunately lasted throughout the longer-than-usual school day.

When school was finally over, he walked out, trying to glance at the entrance in hopes of catching something (or someone) when-

“Giyuuuuuuu!” A loud voice, more familiar to him than his own, raced through the courtyard and made its way to him in the shape of a loud energetic pink-haired guy. “Why are you so late?! I’ll beat you up if you stayed asleep in the roof again!” 

“I had detention,” is his calm explanation, still lost in his thoughts.

“I KNEW I-- Wait. Detention? Ooh,” coos Sabito, clearly interested and smirking as he puts his arm around a slightly miffed Giyuu. “Is little Tomo-chan finally growing up? Knew you’d learn something sooner than later. Did you rebel against the teachers? Fought that new mohawk guy who threw your lunch last week? Because if you haven’t yet then I--”

“I got into a fight.” A pause. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean ‘sort of’? You’re either in a fight or you aren’t. Don’t tell me you half-assed your first fight!”

“It wasn’t my fight.” 

“Eh? You’re not making any sense. Anyways, did you win?”

At this, Giyuu couldn’t help but frown.

Because, quite honestly, he wasn’t sure himself either.

It had all begun as follows: 

Giyuu had been on cleaning duty one day, staying over after classes to take care of the classroom. Usually, more than one person stayed on duty, but the other student, a classmate named Tanjiro, told him he had to go pick up all four of his siblings one by one after school and couldn’t stay. He seemed quite embarrassed and willing to make up for it later, so Giyuu simply nodded his assent, to which he earned a smile and clap on the back. A bit too familiar compared to what he’s used to, but it didn’t really offend him.

He also didn’t mind staying over by himself, even if he missed out on walking home with Sabito, the school turned into a temporary relaxing place when most students were out of the premises.

It was peaceful. Quiet.

Except-

Not really. 

He started to hear a commotion coming from a neighboring classroom, brow frowning as he wondered who else would be left here. Giyuu heard some shouts and the sounds of desks falling over. Now, he usually kept to himself, but years of knowing Sabito had gotten him more involved in altercations than he’d care for. Mostly playing the peacemaker, as he tried to keep his more temperamental friend out of trouble. 

So he hurried over, seeing if there was anything he could do or if the matter was serious enough to call a teacher over.

What he saw though, surprised him.

He wasn’t shocked by the fight, but he was surprised to see someone he recognised. Not because he knew them, but because they’d been recently introduced during their recent PE class. Shinazugawa Sa… Something. Giyuu wasn’t a natural talker, and this guy didn’t seem to be a naturally friendly either, keeping to himself and lashing out a few times when other guys tried to mess with him. They hadn’t ever really interacted, but Giyuu had taken notice of him several times. Especially regarding those scars he had, running across his cheek and nose and on his forehead. It was an odd sight for a seventeen-year-old, but Giyuu knew better than to stare.

The image that crossed his sight now was one of Shinazugawa, a feral look on his face for lack of a more apt description, rising a whole table desk over his head as he loomed over three guys who scrambled up from the floor, purple marks rising on their faces. As soon as Giyuu opened the door the guys shouted out,

“This guy is a monster! Come, let’s get the fuck out of here!” A guy who was still standing up ran first, the other three following behind- but not before Shinazugawa finished throwing the desk right at where they just previously were. Their loud shrieks and cursing were heard as they left running through the hallway, promises of getting back at ‘scarface’ being tossed from afar.

Shinazugawa shouted, made as if to follow them- when his eyes crossed Giyuu’s. Who’d just been standing here, impassive eyes watching the whole ordeal.

“Get back here you motherfu---! What the HELL!” Shinazugawa exclaimed as he took Giyuu in, who’d very well look like a sort of apparition with how still he was. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Tomioka Gi--” “Yeah, I don’t care for your damn name. Your friends left you behind or somethin’?” The guy sneered as he stepped menacingly closer, “Or you just didn’t have enough yet?”

Giyuu’s eyes took in the appearance of the guy. Despite his behavior, his breathing was erratic, sign he was quite agitated or exhausted from the fight. His face was blossoming some bruises of their own, but the most worrisome thing was his white uniform sleeve. It had blood spots. And he hadn’t seen any of the other guys bleeding. Unless he’d missed that, then this blood had to be his own.

“Too scared to answer, you little sh--?”

“You’re hurt” Giyuu blurted out, frowning in concern as he looked at the sleeve.

“What-” The taller one blinked, quickly arriving to a conclusion as he grabbed Giyuu’s shirt by his collar. “You think just because your friends used dirty tricks you can take me on?!”

“No.” Was Giyuu’s calm response. “Let me help you.”

“Let you--? Hah! Seriously. You must be joking.” Shinazugawa drops him, stepping away to put his hands on his pants’ pockets. “I’m done here.”

But before he can walk away, Giyuu makes a quick notion to grab him by the arm- the hurt arm. The wince and the muffled complaint were enough to prove his theory. It looked like his sleeve had been nicked by a small knife, which was definitely a dirty trick, and knowing how physically fit Shinazugawa was, and how many guys had been needed to try to ‘take him on’, there was no doubt, they’d brought some weapons to possibly try to gain the upper hand.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“Hah? You got some balls, you know? If you let me go right now I won’t plummet you to the ground too.”

“You shouldn’t leave this injury untreated,” he insisted.

Shinazugawa frowned and spelled out through gritted teeth, “Let. Go. Before I lose my patience.”

But Giyuu just stared back, unwavering deep blue eyes staring right into Shinazugawa’s grey threatening ones.

A moment passed, but neither backed down.

Shinazugawa finally tsk’d, “You can get me a band-aid if that’ll make you go away.”

Giyuu nodded, relieved as he finally let go of the other’s arm. 

“This way.”

As he silently walked along with the seething boy through the hallways and towards the school’s infirmary, he felt his rapidly beating heartbeat calm down. Why had he done that? Insist on helping the clearly unwilling new transfer student?

He wasn’t sure, he just…. remembered, when he’d just gotten into this school. The insults, the bullying. The resident delinquents bothered anyone they fancied while the school tried to keep up the facade that they had everything under control. 

But most of all, the loneliness.

Because that’s what he saw whenever he looked at Shinazugawa, not talking to others, isolating himself, scaring anyone who approached him away.

He didn’t just see someone angry at the world. He saw loneliness and hurt. And no facade the other would put up could possibly conceal something he himself knew so intimately.

Perhaps it had been because of this.

Perhaps, something else.

------------

Oop and here it ends, I’m really looking forward to writing more Sanemi and Giyuu interaction, and Sabito out there being the best bro ever. 

[xoexoxhoe]

Meeting Monsta X in Tokyo after KCON

A/N: YALL. SO- I’m currently in Japan and crying because although im in my mother land- I WAS UNABLE TO SEE OUR BEAUTIFUL BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE INDUSTRY AT KCON CUZ 1) i’m broke, and 2) i’m broke and my dad would kill me if I left my family for that. BUT anyways- I wrote this on the plane because I was just filled with sympathy for myself and literally broke down with my family cause I just wanna be there 😂Hope ya’ll enjoy this imagine! Cuz I enjoyed writing it. (Rant over)

Takoyaki in a park + Tokyo + Monsta X? Oh, sign me up plz 😪✨

MONSTA X & Y/N 

The flight to Japan felt way too long for comfort, but you beared with it anyways. The service was amazing, and you couldn’t shake the sense of excitement that you felt as your plane finally touched down in Tokyo. Your mask, sweatpants, and oversized sweatshirt made you unrecognizable to even your own family. Your brother poked fun at you, saying you looked like ‘one of your Kpop boys trying to evade the paparazzi’, to which you nodded and told him that’s exactly what you were doing. He’d roll his eyes as you both caught up to your father, questioning what the days agenda would entail, begging to go and see at least one anime store of the sort.

Your earphones blared a multitude of Kpop songs, ranging from your beloved Monsta X to your treasured ATEEZ. Your parents could barely get your attention after you had a good look at Monsta X’s posters scattered around parts of the airport, all promoting the one thing you truly wished you could attend: KCON Japan.

“Mom, I’m literally going to die if I don’t go one day.”

Your mom shrugged her shoulders, “Sweetie, you never know, we’re here for a few days, maybe you’ll see them after all.” she gave you a quick wink before helping your father with a few bags.

“Yeah, your mother is right, Y/N. We have a lot of walking to do, I’m sure you’ll see at least one famous person.” Your dad heaved your suitcase off of the large conveyer and you smiled.

“Having a hard time there, buddy?” You teased, looking back at your brother for reassurance.

Your dad stuck out his index finger, shaking it while scolding you, “Now, now, don’t start acting up on me just yet.”

Your brother cackled, “Easy, tiger. The trip only began twenty minutes ago and we’re already fighting.”

The car ride to the hotel you stayed at was shorter than you expected, and you enjoyed taking in the beautiful sights of various temples, food stands, as well as locals and tourists alike hustling around the large city roads. Your dad felt the need to find a ramen place as soon as you checked into the hotel and got situated.

“I- I don’t mean to be rude, Dad, but can I go ahead and walk around a bit on my own?” you gave your dad those signature puppy eyes of yours, ensuring that your lips were extra pouty.

“Y/N, if I let you go will you promise to at least hang out with your super cool family for the rest of the trip?”

You winked at your dad after coming out of the bathroom sporting a new outfit and your backpack, heading for the door,“Matta ne! (See you later!)”

Your mom hollered down the hallway as you sauntered towards the elevators, “Back by ten, no later!”

“Ara, umma! (Got it mom!)”

The city of Tokyo was exceptionally beautiful this time of year. The sakura season was coming to a bittersweet end, but the few flurries left of pink flowers signifying that Spring was alive and well created a soft smile that spread across your face. As you crossed a bridge overlooking a small pond, you heard a few shrill screams, causing your head to tilt in confusion. After craning your neck over the trees across the park, you saw a few girls holding pieces of paper with what appeared to be signatures. You rolled your eyes, not at the girls, but at the fact that they’ve probably seen idols who attended KCON, and you didn’t. You continued to walk down the park path, ending up at a  bench near a vendor selling fresh takoyaki. The smell was irresistible; a mixture of both sweet and bold flavors wrapped in the essence of crispy fish and octopus. You were certain you weren’t hungry, but your stomach said otherwise.

As you approached the vendor, you pulled out whatever yen you could to match the price of a few cheese takoyaki. You had enough Japanese language skills to get through a conversation with the kind man, thanking him for the meal and heading to the far side of his stand to place a few condiments on your plate. After reaching for sweet chili sauce, you were caught off guard by the pristine porcelain fingers that were now mingling with your own. Soon enough, the hand pulled back and so did you, looking up and bowing, saying sorry a few times before looking the person in the eyes.

With a mouth full of takoyaki as well, a familiar face that you knew stared at you with a sheepish smile, in a shaky voice, he stated in English, “I am so sorry! I reached at same time!”

Your jaw dropped, Yoo FUCKING Kihyun; you knew he was beautiful in pictures alone, but the way his smile captured the dim lights of the takoyaki stand made you swoon. You gained consciousness from your dumbfounded stupor and blinked, starting to speak Korean on instinct, “No! I’m so sorry! You go ahead first!” Your eyes darted to the side of him, and once again, you felt your heart jump.

In a husky voice, Jooheon walked behind him, nagging him about being slow, “Hyung! What’s taking you so long? Shownu hyung is asking for more sauce,” he turned his head to see you and Kihyun staring at each other, “Oh! New friend?”

You shook your head, “I’m so sorry I bothered you!”

Jooheon laughed and his crescent eyes melted your heart, “hey now! No one said you were bothering. Did Kihyun do the awkward thing where he reaches for sauce at the same time as you?”

You gulped, fuck how does he know?

You nodded, “He did- but; It’s fine! Really! I should have been paying attention!” You had a hand behind your head, running your fingers through your hair to distract your nerves.

“AIGOO! Kihyun-shi, you’re so awkward at times!” Hyungwon. With his signature ice coffee in hand, you almost couldn’t contain your laughter and admiration.

“Guys, he’s just trying to make small talk with an obviously beautiful woman.” Changkyun came from behind and gripped Kihyun’s shoulders.

“Yah, hands off.” Kihyun’s goofy smile and the way he brushed off Changkyun’s hands made you laugh as well.

With a small voice you raised your hand, “I… I don’t mean to be-“

You were interrupted by a deep voice, “Kihyun-shi, where’s the sauce?”

Shownu’s tall figure came over to your side and you almost jumped. Minhyuk came to the side of Jooheon with a vlive phone, waving goodbye to the probable hundreds of thousands of fans that were tuning in. “Who’s this?” Shownu smiled, waving at you as you bowed slightly.

“Oh- I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you all.” You bowed yet again, feeling as if you weren’t being polite enough to the people you so loved with every fiber of your being.

The boys all went down the line to introduce themselves rather than doing their typical introduction, and you smiled, thanking them for that.

Jooheon smiled, “Y/N, do you know who Monsta X is by any chance?”

Your cheeks became flushed and you felt yourself get hot, “Uh- Yes! I do…”

“That doesn’t sound too reassuring, guys.

I don’t know if Y/N likes us.” Wonho walked behind you and squeezed your shoulder while laughing, looking into your eyes and winking. This isn’t real.

You wanted to scream, run a million laps around this entire damn park; you were dying to start singing a bar or two of Beautiful, or better yet, start belting Trespass. Your inner Monbebe began to crawl out from the depths of your deep ocean of love for all things Monsta X, but you suppressed it as best as you could.

“No! I actually really admire you all, and on behalf of all Monbebe, I just want to say that we are so proud of all of your hard work and please sleep well, eat well, and live it up.” You snickered to yourself at your Japanese Monsta X song reference and awaited the reaction of the members.

Minhyuk took your hand and bowed, “And on behalf of Monsta X to our Monbebe, thank you for loving us, we hope you all feel our hard work as we continue to progress in our career.”

You were quaking as his soft hand slipped out of yours slowly, followed by his charming smile.

Kihyun shook the sweet chili bottle and poured some into your paper bowl, “I do this and mix the sauce with the homemade sauce here,” he placed another dollop of whatever daisy looking sauce was in the bottle, and all you could do was thank him over and over.

“Hey guys, should we grab a picture with our Monbebe?” Jooheon put up his hands, and the other members nodded their heads in unison. You were frozen, barely able to move with your takoyaki in tow as Changkyun grabbed your wrist and led you to a tree off to the side of the takoyaki stand. Your heart jumped into your throat when his hands grabbed your bowl and placed it on a bench to the side.

“Thank you so much.” You whispered over and over.

“No, thank YOU for not attacking us.” Shownu chuckled and you couldn’t contain your smile this time, staring into the camera as Minhyuk placed a selfie stick in the air, counting down the moments before he clicked a picture. Once you were finished, the boys disbanded from their selfie positions and looked back at you.

You pulled out your Polaroid camera and smiled weakly, “Is it too much to ask if we could take individual pictures?”

They smiled brightly, “Let’s do it!”

After taking brilliantly radiant selfies with each of the members, they grabbed the pictures and signed them, each writing a small note addressed to you. You couldn’t believe it; your cheeks were writhing in pain from the amount of happiness radiating off of your smile and body. They each waved you goodbye, stating that they hoped to see you back in Korea someday, and you lifted your arm in response, allowing your fingers to move freely to send them off. You sat on the bench where Changkyun left your food and stared at your boots in complete disbelief. You found your way back to the hotel around the same time as your family.

“Hey, honey! How was your walk? Have you eaten?” Your mother was at your side stroking your hair.

“Mom; I don’t think I’m gonna eat for the next lifetime because I just got served a full course MEAL.” Your eyes were misty with happy tears, and your brother’s eyebrows knit in confusion.

“What the hell, Y/N? It looks like you saw a ghost?”

You began to belt the chorus to Ghost by Monsta X, tears of joy trickling down your face. 

“Whoa! I didn’t mean to hurt you, sis!” Your brother looked shocked as you continued to sing the lyrics while entering the elevator .

“Umma, Dad- I SAW THEM!” You screamed into the elevator wall and your brother laughed hysterically.

You whipped out the selfies and your brother’s face dropped as well, “holy shit…” he whispered.

It was undeniably the best day of your life and you didn’t want to change it for the world. You were thankful for your sweet, kind hearted, and beautiful Monsta X. You held those pictures close to you heart the entire night, thanking the Kpop God’s for sending you this blessing. Although you couldn’t utter all the words you wished you could have, you still cried at the fact that busy people such as themselves took time out of their lives to pay attention to you for more than a second; and for that, you were forever grateful.

[chimcharstar]

1 THROUGH 55 AND 1 THROUGH 30 GO GO GO

LETS FUCKIN GO

tumblr please actually make this a keep reading

55 interesting questions you should drop in someone’s inbox

1. If you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?

I ALREADY WATCH NETFLIX AND AGONIZE OVER MY STORY

2. What’s your favorite piece of clothing you’ve own/owned?

MY JACKETS. ANY CHEST OBSCURING, BROAD SHOULDERED, COZY JACKET

3. What hobbies would you get into if time and money wasn’t an issue?

DANCING, ID NEED TO GO TO CLASSES OR SOMETHING

4. What would your perfect room look like?

IM ACTUALLY PRETTY HAPPY WITH MY ROOM BUT IVE ALWAYS WANTED A LAVA LAMP, AND 1800 MORE PLANTS COULDNT HURT

5. Do you play sports?

NO

6. What fiction place would you love to go to?

SINNOH REGION

7. What Job would you be terrible at?

DEBT COLLECTION. I WOULD BE GIVING SHIT TO PEOPLE FOR FREE. I COULDNT BEAR BEING ENCOURAGED TO FORCE PEOPLE WHO CANT PAY FOR SOMETHING TO PAY MORE

8. If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would it be?

SERVING. HOW MANY PLATES CAN YOU CARRY AT ONCE

9. What’s the most annoy habit other people have?

WALKING IN MY SPACE BUBBLE WHEN MY SENSES ARE OVERLOADED

10. What skill would you like to master?

A SECOND LANGUAGE

11. What would be the most amazing adventure to go on?

THE ONE FROM MY DREAM WHERE I KISSED A GIRL DYED MY HAIR BLUE AND WE ELOPED TO BRAZIL TO RAISE SHEEP

12. What’s your favorite drink ?

THAT CHRISTMAS SHIT. PEPPERMINT MOCHA AT STARBUCKS. A FRIEND GOT IT FOR ME ONCE. NOW I ORDER IT A BILLION TIMES.

13. What state or country would you never like to go back to?

I HAVE NOT TRAVELLED MUCH EVER

14. What songs do you have completely memorized?

I DONT REMEMBER LYRICS SO MUCH, BUT I COULD PROBABLY REMEMBER HOW MANY SONGS GO COMPLETELY

15. Are you usually early or late?

LATE. IM GETTING BETTER THOUGH

16. What takes up too much of your time?

GETTING OUT OF BED

17. What do you wish you knew more about?

SWORDS

18. What are some small things that make your day better?

COFFEE. SOMEONE SAYING SOMETHING NICE TO ME.

19. What TV channel doesn’t exist but really should?

QUEER EYE BUT BY TRANS PEOPLE FOR TRANS PEOPLE

20. Who has impressed you the most with what they’ve accomplished?

YOU. AND ME. ITS GROWTH

21. What age do you wish you can permanently be?

21, SO I HAVE TIME TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCKS GOING ON

22. What TV show or movie do you refuse to watch?

13 REASONS, THE BOOK WAS TRIGGERING SO I WONT RISK IT

23. What would be your ideal way to spend you weekend?

TAKING A WALK, HAVING COFFEE, WATERING PLANTS… IM HAPPY

24. What’s something in your life that’s considered a luxury?

I HAVE PERFUME...

25. Is there anything you’re too young/old for?

TO YOUNG TO NEVER DRINK. TOO OLD FOR POKEMON

26. What’s your favorite genre book or movie?

I DONT HAVE THE ATTENTION SPAN FOR EITHER BUT I SEEM TO LIKE URBAN FANTASY A LOT

27. How often do you people watch?

I THINK IM SO POLITE BUT HONESTLY, I QUIETLY SCRUTINIZE SO MANY PEOPLE ON THE TRAIN EVERY DAY AND GUESS AT THEIR PERSONAL HABITS AND SELF IMAGE.

28. What’s the best single day on the calendar?

MY BIRTHDAY, SAGITTARIUS SEASON RULES BABY

29. What are you interested in that most people haven’t heard of?

I DONT KNOW ABOUT ANYTHING PPL HAVENT HEARD OF BUT IM INTERESTED IN BLACK HOLES

30. Do you relax after a hard day?

FOOD. NETFLIX. DECOMPOSING ON TUMBLR

31. What’s the best book or series you’ve ever read?

I HAVENT READ A BOOK I REALLY LOVE IN AGES. HARRY POTTER AND ARTEMIS FOWL WERE MY FAVOURITES GROWING UP, BUT CORNELIA FUNKES BOOKS SLAPPED AND HIS DARK MATERIALS WAS GORGEOUS

32. Where’s the farthest you’ve ever been from home?

IDAHO?

33. What’s the most heart warming thing you’ve ever seen?

LUCIFER WAS LIKE YOU DESERVE SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR BORING MIDDLE NAME JANE AND KNOWS THAT EVERY MURDER BREAKS YOUR HEART AND YOU SIMPLY DESERVE BETTER SO NO MORE MOMENTS WHILE THEYRE HAVING A MOMENT AND CHLOE IS WATCHING THIS FUCKING IDIOT AND IVE WATCHED THIS BEFORE SO I KNOW SHES GONNA KISS HIM AND THEN THEY KISS

34. What’s the most annoying question that people ask you?

ANY SMALL TALK QUESTIONS

35. Would you give a 40 minute presentation with no preparation?

YES. ID MAKE THAT SHIT RIGHT UP. SKILLS

36. What’s something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives?

GIVE ME A HUG AND SOME CHOCOLATE

37. Would you rather go Hand Gliding or Whitewater rafting?

HANG GLIDING

38. Dream car?

SOMETHING I DONT HAVE TO WORRY WILL FALL INTO PIECES AT ANY MOMENT

39. What’s something so many people are obsessed with and you just don’t understand why?

STRAIGHT LOVE SONGS

40. What are you most looking forward to in 10 years from now?

HAVING A CAT

41. What’s something you’ve been meaning to try but haven’t gotten to it?

DECORATING THE DOLLHOUSE I RESCUED FROM THE BATHROOM

42. What’s the best thing that’s happened to you all week?

IM NOT VERY FAR THROUGH THE WEEK AND I HAVENT ENJOYED MOST OF IT BUT PEOPLE SAYING ADORABLE THINGS

43. How different was your life one year ago?

NOT A LOT DIFFERENT, IM JUST LONELY IN THE CITY NOW, MINUS A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, ONE YEAR ON T

44. What/who would you rate 10/10?

MY CACTUS JAKEN. I DROPPED HIM SO MANY TIMES AN ENTIRE HALF OF HIS SPIKES ARE FLAT SCARS. AND LOOK AT HIM. THRIVING

45. What kind of art do you enjoy the most?

GENUINELY MADE ART

46. What do you hope never changes?

MY T PRESCRIPTION

47. What movie title best describes your life?

I LOOKED THROUGH NETFLIX AND I PICK TWILIGHT

48. What website do you visit most often?

TUMBLR

49. What’s something you’re looking forward to this year?

MY BIRTHDAY

50. What’s something you’d like to unlearn?

FINDING A REASON TO CANCEL EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING

51. Where would you spend all your time if you could?

WALKING BY SOME RUNNING WATER

52. What age would you like to live to?

80. THATS MY MENTAL HEALTH ANSWER

53. What’s something you’re most likely to become famous for?

SOMETHING CREATIVE WOULD BE AWESOME

54. What’s something you’re most likely to be arrested for?

CRIMES

55. What’s something you really want but can’t afford?

A CAT

Lgbt+ ask game

What do you identify as and what are your pronouns?

I’m even a little shaken by a questioning state right now but for a while I’ve felt the best fit is the androgynous label -- I read a description of it being the purple on a pink to blue scale, both at once but not specifically either one, and something else by itself. I’m also happy with a cryptic masculine grey area. My pronouns are he/him.

How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story?

During the Puberty 1.0 nightmare, I was basically living someone else’s life, and any attraction I felt wasn’t in relation to myself. I felt disconnected from my body and gender and everything too, and I felt a lot of social pressure to experience a certain type of attraction, fit into a certain role, et cetera, and none of these feelings existed in me at all, so I used to identify as ace. When I realized I was trans, I was too caught up in the, transition safely, my life is a lie, stopping dysphoria drama to focus on this, but I had an idea I might be a gay guy judging from my gay creative writing until I caught feelings for a girl and realized this wasn’t the first time that had happened. Some bi positivity and nonbinary rage later, I am reminded that gender is a joke.

Have you experienced being misgendered? What happened and how did you overcome it?

Yes of course A LOT. Starting with my parents, who do it aggressively and maliciously. And plenty from strangers and customers, mostly after hearing my voice pre-transition. It used to hurt terribly because I was dealing with so much other stuff at the time, and one little thing could be the last straw, so I used to react strongly and harshly, to people you express yourself to anyway. On T, I’ve been so much more chill and confident, and it’s less painful to accept that some people just don’t know any better, although that doesn’t change its effect.

Who was the first person you told, how did they react?

I don’t remember, I think it was a high school friend. I vaguely remember texting someone in a bathroom during a crying session at work. My high school friends were all warm and supportive.

Describe what it was like coming out, what did you feel?

It was scary as hell. I’m sure coming out (with your gender specifically) is scary by nature because it’s a huge truth to be telling that can really change how the people you love perceive you, for better or for worse, but for me, I’m also thinking with the dread and certainty that my family would be too conservative and potentially dangerous. Coming out to my family was one of the worst, most painful things I’ve ever been through -- being kicked out and laughed at, a lot of drama, confrontations, Bible readings and being ganged up on at odd hours, trying to comfort my mom who took it as her personal failure -- I was shaking with adrenaline 24/7. I think of the “I’ll suffer through anything as long as it has meaning” comment that was about angsty fanfics, but knowing the truth about myself was a source of unshakable strength and it felt refreshing and even triumphant to say, like I was giving myself permission to exist for the first time. I came out a bunch of times, though...

If you’re out, how did your parents/guardians/friends react?

My family reacted mostly badly, my sister is a little confused but has the spirit, and my friends have been wonderful.

What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality?

It’s more of a gender thing, but I hate it when people imply that I shouldn’t be on T or are subtly trying to talk me out of it with their questions. After all the disrespectful as fuck bullshit I heard from my parents, I’m tired of this.

Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear.

Zombie apocalypse denim? Gay Layers

Who are your favourite lgbt+ ships?

I’m not really emotionally invested in these “ships” you cool kids are talking about. I like canon, age-appropriate ones.

What does makeup mean to you? Do you wear any?

I’ve never really worn makeup. I brazenly never bothered to growing up, and if it had an effect on me socially, I was too tuned out to care. My sister always wanted to do my hair and makeup, but I wasn’t interested and wouldn’t let her, much to her frustration. I wore some for a musical once though, and I had no idea what I was doing and it was extremely uncomfortable. I felt what I know now is dysphoria and ended up using the lipstick to draw. Another aspect to this is my family forbade it (or my dad made the decision for everyone), not that it made my sister feel less pressured to wear it, so maybe it was some female presentation I could easily get out of. For that reason, I don’t have super strong feelings about it. Not understanding it probably resulted in me feeling left out a lot among my peers.

Do you experience dysphoria? If so, how does that affect you?

Yes. Before my realization, it was a numb horror I wasn’t consciously aware of, ruining nice things growing up to the point where I feel like I missed out on being a teenager. I remember it as feeling nauseous while sitting in a corner, feeling like none of my clothes ever fit for some mysterious reason. Living with my family in the closet, it defined my life, and I was obsessed with my presentation. These days, it does not bother me on that level at all, except a minor freakout now and then if I get really wild and wear feminine clothes. Or I still feel it in more subtle ways, when I default to customer service voice, or when guys my age are twice my height and I look aaaall the way up at them and wonder what gender they see me as.

What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard said about the lgbt+ community?

Trust me, I have heard truck loads of dumb shit and the winner is the Gay Agenda is R****a’s propaganda to weaken the integrity of North America. Considering what is happening over there, it was enragingly stupid.

What’s your favourite thing about the lgbt+ community?

I feel like I can be myself around lgbt+ people. I don’t feel like I have to hide stuff or put on a show, and I’m not afraid because it’s familiar territory.

What’s your least favourite thing about the lgbt+ community?

Aside from obvious problems like TERFs, ace discourse. Ace people are part of the community if they want to be and that’s enough on that, my skin is already breaking out.

Have you ever been to your cities pride event? Why or why not?

I finally went to a Pride event this year! I was surprised it was the first one I’d been to, then remembered my parents discouraged me from going anywhere, never mind to a gay where.

Who is your favourite lgbt+ Icon/Advocate/Celebrity?

I can’t think of many people right now, but Leslie Feinberg seems awesome, and some quotes from Stone Butch Blues are very validating.

Have you been in a relationship and how did you meet?

No. Technically I have been in one, but it was shitty and ridiculous, and basically platonic, and I don’t want it to count.

What is your favourite lgbt+ book?

I barely read… I read Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe in high school and it was honestly so precious.

Have you ever faced discrimination? What happened?

Yes. I got kicked out (but then kicked back in again), had my stuff stolen and damaged, was verbally harassed… and I was indirectly fired by an employer, but We Will Never Know Why...

Your Favorite lgbt+ movie or show?

Queer Eye! I don’t know of many though, and some important ones, I just haven’t watched.

Who are some of your favourite lgbt+ bloggers?

My mutuals :D

Which lgbt+ slur do you want to reclaim?

I’m okay calling myself queer.

Have you ever gone to a gay bar, or a drag show, how was it?

No, but I did see some drag performances at the one (1) Pride event I went to, and they were jaw-dropping.

How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that mean to you?

I’m not sure what this question means, but I decide what fits right by what makes me feel the most alive and emotionally real and in the moment. What makes me feel the most attractive to be honest. There’s a post about dysphoria I saw going around, the things on it are basically what I use to figure things out.

Are you interested in having children? Why or why not?

I am actually! Not anytime soon, but I’m the responsible type for sure, and judging by the way I love growing plants and being around animals, I’m probably a nurturing person. I actually like kids too, lol, they’re just so high-energy.

What identity advice would you give your younger self?

You’re a boy. Go!

What do you think of gender roles in relationships?

I think people are going to have different ways of expressing themselves that make them happy, but… I don’t think they should infringe on basic human decency. When I hear “role” I think of acting a certain way because someone told you to, something I want to disagree with on the spot.

Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender?

People move out of my way on the sidewalk and take me seriously now. Privilege or self-confidence… I never want to forget what it used to be like, or get too entitled.

What is something you wish people know about being lgbt+?

That it’s simply living one’s reality. I think that trips up a lot of straight people -- that some people just come like this, and they don’t have to make it fit into their personal identity.

Why are proud to be lgbt+?

Because I worked hard to be alive and happy right now. I’m proud of choosing to get through those rough patches, take care of myself, heal, take walks, cook breakfast, learn healthy coping mechanisms, that was out of love for myself and a defiant conviction that I have a place in this world.

[fanfics4all]

The Northside Serpent: Part 11

Request: Yes / No

Request are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Keller!Reader

Word count: 1291

Warnings: Nothing I think

Y/N: Your Name

Summary: You’re Kevin Keller’s little sister when you’re mom left to go to war and your dad started cheating (I’m making it so he’s been cheating since season 1) You started rebelling; dying your hair, getting a nose piercing, tattoo, and hanging out on the southside.

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I woke up the next morning and it was Friday, I was so happy because a new movie was coming out and I was hoping Sweet Pea would go with me. I got out of bed and picked out my outfit for the day then got dressed. I put on a black long-sleeved crop top, a pink skirt, kitty stockings, my pink creepers with black hearts on them, and a black rose headband. For makeup a did a pink lip, and a cute pink eyeshadow to match. For hair, I just left it down and scrunched it up a bit to make it wavy.

I walked downstairs and Kevin was so ready to get to school. I swear he looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin he was so excited. I looked at him as I grabbed an apple and raised my eyebrow at him.

“What are you so excited for?” I asked and he smiled.

“I’m gonna ask Moose if he wants to go see Love Simon with me.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“Kev, you know he’s with Midge right?” I said.

“Yeah but come on! We both know he’s gay.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever you say brother.” I said and walked past him. We grabbed our bags and left to school. Kevin spotted Moose right away and ran up to him. I sighed and shook my head at my brother. I went to my locker and saw Toni was there waiting for me.

“Hey girl, back with the cuties colors?” She asked with a smirk when I walked up to her.

“Well, with the new romance coming to Riverdale, I wanted to get in the spirit!” I said getting my books and whatnot. Toni laughed and shook her head at me. Sweet Pea and Fangs walked up to us.

“Hey babe.” He said and kissed my head.

“Hey cutie.” I smiled up at him.

“Quinny! Don’t flirt with me when your boyfriends around.” Fangs joked making me laugh. Sweet Pea shoved him and he laughed.

“Anyway, Sweet would you come to the movies with me this weekend?” I asked with the biggest smile.

“To see that new movie?” He asked hesitantly. I nodded and before he could answer Fangs jumped in.

“I’ll go with you if he won’t!” He said with a smile.

“Of course I’ll go with you babe.” He said wrapping his arm around me.

“You guys can come with us if you want to.” I said with a smile.

“I’ll come.” Fangs said with a smile.

“Maybe I’ll tag along.” Toni said. The bell rang and Fangs, Sweet Pea and I left to go to class while Toni went to her.

Toni and I met up when we had off while the two boys were stuck in class. We were sitting outside just talking and having some nice girl talk.

“So, something weird happened in the bathroom earlier.” Toni said.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Cheryl called Jughead and told him Betty and Archie kissed for no reason then she told me to tremble?” She said confused.

“Yeah, that’s Cheryl for you.” I laughed.

“But then I told her to tell me what was wrong with her, because clearly she’s in pain and she shouted at me.” She said.

“She shouted at you?” I asked.

“Yeah but not in like a bitchy way, it was more like a defencive way.” She said and I raised an eyebrow at her. I knew Cheryl was bi, I’m pretty sure I was the only one that knew.

“Interesting.” I said with a small nod.

After school, the Toni got a call from FP telling her that everyone was staying at Sunnyside Trailer Park! FP invited them over to celebrate and when he heard I was with them he invited me too. We went to FP’s trailer and a small amount of Serpents were piled in. FP called Jughead to tell him the news, that’s how I found out that Hiram Lodge bought the trailer park…Not long after we got there Sweet Pea dropped me off at home and we made plans to meet up at the theater tomorrow night.

The whole next day Kevin and I hung out together, just the two of us. Dad was at work or with his girlfriend. Kevin and I watched T.V. and then he wanted to go to Pop’s before the movie. I didn’t go with him, instead, I went upstairs to my room to get ready. I put on a gray crop top, a black skirt, some cute boots, a gray beanie, and my leather jacket. For makeup, I did a dark pink lip and a gray and pink eyeshadow with a wing.

Once I was done I got it was time to meet Sweets, Fangs, and Toni. I met them outside the theater and the four of us walked in. We bought our tickets and were now getting snacks. I spotted my brother and went over to go talk to him, telling my friends I’d be right back.

“Hey Kev!” I said hugging him from behind to surprise him.

“Hey sis, who are you here with?” He asked and I pointed over to my friends.

“The Serpents…” He said and I sighed.

“Please Kev, I don’t get why you’re on dad’s side with this all of a sudden, I mean you dated one!” I said annoyed.

“And look how well that worked out.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever, how’d it go with Moose?” I asked and he sigh.

“I told you he was with Midge.” I said and he nodded. Josie walked up to us with a smile.

“Hey Y/N, Kevin.” She said.

“Hey Josie.” I smiled back.

“You guys here with somebody?” She asked and I nodded.

“Yeah, I should probably get back to them. I’ll see you guys around!” I said and walked back to my friend.

“Where’s Toni?” I asked and the boys pointed over to the snack bar. She was walking up to Cheryl and I smirked.

“Oh we have to see how this goes down.” I said and we walked closer to hear them.

“Let me guess…Some cherry cola for Cheryl Bombshall?” Toni said with her arms crossed.

“Oh, my god. What do you want? And why do you keep stalking me?” Cheryl asked with her usual sass.

“I’m not. I came to see this movie with Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Y/N.” She said and Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Toni asked.

“I’m alone at the movies and I’m trying to stay away from my mother, who has turned out house into her sexual playpen. So, no, I’m really not.” Cheryl said and I frowned.

“Well, you could join us if you want. I know Y/N won’t mind, right?” Toni said turning to us and our eyes widened.

“Nope, not at all!” I said then nervously laughed. The two girls smiled and we went to our seats. The movie was amazing, it was beautiful. Once it was over Toni and Cheryl went to Pop’s together while Fangs, Sweet Pea and I went to the Wyrm. Kevin wanted me to come with him a Josie to talk to our parents but I couldn’t. It would only end it yelling and I couldn’t deal with that right now. The three of us had a few non-alcoholic drinks and I watched the boys play a few games of pool. After a few hours I told Kevin I was staying at a friends house and Sweet Pea took me to his place. He gave me one of his t-shirts to sleep in and we cuddled up together then fell asleep.

Tag list: @54fangirl @southsidehufflepuff @xrosesareredx @cvvlxx @skeletalwolfcat @demigodofthesun @depressed-octopods-art @nalayrene @yourfavouritefuckup @staygoldsquatchling02 @sataninsatin @im-socialy-awkward-no-joke @dark-night-sky-99 @aframeofbones @fly-slytherin-queen @jojokoko0717 @nixdunbarhale @wanderlust-and-poetry @theyouthfulmoon @seasiren96 @nixdunbarhale2 @misskarynie @emo-godess-loves-you @serpent-stan @a--smallgirlinabigworld @ohlookmybed  @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @cuddlememerrick @herokyolachan @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs  @blueandgoldaus @southsidefandoms @hiya-imthatgirl @answer-the-sirens @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999  @widowsgirl @hiighdeex3 @blueberry-lipgloss 

[starwriterulia]

Reviewing Brea's Stuff - BTS Soulmate AU (1/2)

PART 1/2 (Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin)

HI! \(OwO)/

I want to draw ya'll's attention to one of my friends: @jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae. She's a k-pop reaction/scenario/text writer, and not only have I missed her as a friend so much during my long hiatus, I've also missed her writing. Thankfully, there's a lot for me to catch up on! She asked me to give my opinions on her BTS AUs, and with her permission, I've turned my reviews it into a bit of advertising! If you wanna read the stuff I did, ya'll don't have to scroll super far to find it all. I'll be reviewing each AU from a Reader's Standing (silly, sometimes improper sentences; sO MUCH swearing; caps lock) and from a Critic's Standing (second reading; at least one paragraph). Let's get into this! >o<

—Faith

Written in Order of Whichever Came up First While Scrolling

Taehyung AU (Reader's Standing):

Man, I can't relate with being abandoned at a club 'cause I don't drink, and there's no club in my town, but I love how Y/N is essentially abandoned, ha ha ha! Also, poor Y/N, the only person among their friends who hasn't found a soulmate yet and feels so damn lonely about it. :'(

'...soft masculine voice'—bless you, Brea, for describing this scum as feminine.

'It makes you want to scoff, honestly'—All right then, this Y/N is a bit of a bitch, when it comes to meeting strangers in a club. I like Y/N, already. :D

'...back hitting a wall'—Aw yeah, good going, Y/N. Cornering yourself, good shit.

Strong Tae is hot, like that whole wrist grabbing sequence, ooh.

'Excuse me, sir'—My inner Englishwoman accent has been summoned.

Bitter chocolate on Y/N's tongue?? Where did this come from, hm... HM... hm.

Oh wait this is the soulmate bit. NEATO, I LOVE CHOCOLATE!! Milk is cool too, I mean, I'm vegetarian. If you bring meat into any of these AUs I will riOT.

Internal screaming holy shit it's the gang they're here hi Jimin my baby TwT

Yas to fun dancing with the puppy that is Taehyung

'Your back is pressed against his chest and his hands rest on your hips'—AERUNAWERAWENURAWO cute yes thank you

More chocolate taste, mm, yes. *w*

Holding hands on way to friends = classic, love it.

scREAMING HE CALLED Y/N HIS SOULMATE YES BLESS THIS AU I mean I don't usually read them, but my friendo-burritos are special occasions, OK??

Physical manifestation?? All right, sure. I'm so confused about this because, as I just said, I don't read soulmate AUs.

Love how the flavour of chocolate changes, it's kind of romantic.

*Sees typo at second last paragraph for 'had' instead of 'hand' and holds breath* Save it, Grammar-Nazi alter-ego, it's just a typo.

Super cute paragraph though awoureraelr

'As though he's meant to stay there forever'—Is just too cute, oml.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT LAST PARAGRAPH AND THE LAST LINE OF Y/N MY HEEEEEEEEEEART GOD DAMN SO CUTE UUUUUUUUUUGH

It's over? ;w; It's over...

Taehyung AU (Critic's Standing):

I'll say this here so I don't have to repeat myself, but I don't tend to read Soulmate AUs because I honestly think they're a very basic and beginner's way to write fan fiction. But they're also a great way to practice, so no, I don't hate them, I just don't tend to read them. As you know, I've made an exception for my friend. The first paragraph set the atmosphere very well, and easily stated how Y/N was feeling about not having found their soulmate, yet, and how they're just forced to watch their friends, who already have. The creep insertion, while a common trope, was well executed—I especially approve of how Brea described the wrist grabbing and the little struggle Y/N had.

And then there's Taehyung to the rescue, and for a moment I forgot I was reading a soulmate AU, I was confused about why Y/N tasted chocolate for second. Like the subtle inclusion of Jungkook, Jimin and the other guys, and the dancing section where the taste of chocolate changes according to Taehyung's emotions was really neat. I also loved how Taehyung took Y/N home, and their little kissing moment was the cutest. Not the mention the killer one-liner Y/N delivered, at the end. This was a brief AU, but that's often a good idea, for these kinds of scenarios. If I could improve one thing about this, I would have done... nothing. I seriously can't find anything that I would change, in this. Great job, Brea!

Jungkook AU (Reader's Standing):

Ooh, a Big Bang concert!

OOH, bells to signal soulmate status, that's really cool! Also, cute stumble is best stumble.

'bunny teeth'—Yes, Jungkook is a bunny in disguise, I knew it. *w*

YouTuber Jungkook is a concept I would sell my soul to Satan to see IRL

Ey yo, Seungri! \(>w<)/ Feels like a real concert, lol

Oh boy, whispering...

Awwww group waving to Jungkook's camera, how nice. ;w;

OH BOY JUNGKOOK IS ESCORTED

Oml Jungkook must have been so embarrassed, standing on stage like that, as a mega-fan. Lucky dude.

Never mind, boy was hyped as hecc

Happy Jungkook is best Jungkook, that was so cute to read.

Ye boys and girls, let's go with Jungkook and see what happens next oml this is too cute aaa

iS THIS THE SAME BAR AS THE TAEHYUNG AU?!

Hi Jimin I love you ;w;

Riot for Jimin? Yes, very possible.

beLL RUNG AGAIN GOOD LORD

I approve of Y/N's choice of Daesung as their favourite member

Thank you Jimin for approving of Y/N's choice

Jungkook shooing because he's secretly a possessive puppy, cute

bELLS AGAIN

'pretty damning evidence'—This is suddenly a detective AU? Nice.

'princess'—Aaand now I'm trying not to squeal.

Good choice of bar over apartment there, Jungkook.

Clasped fingers are cute, yes, thank you

More bells, aaaaa

Soft kiss ;w; Ow my heart

Evolving bells? YES.

Seriously this was really cute, I loved it. I love everything Brea writes, tbh.

Maybe that's just a friendship thing, idk.

Jungkook AU (Critic's Standing):

When the story began at a Big Bang concert, I immediately started to recall every bop they ever made, and it made me so nostalgic and happy. Really nice concert vibe, felt pretty alive, for being described in one paragraph. The first occurrence of the bells stole my heart, I'm a winter fanatic and bells are such an iconic symbol of that season, so I really enjoyed finding out that the little soulmate signal for this AU was bells. Not to mention the little confused looks that Y/N and Jungkook gave to their surroundings before introducing themselves with yelling (because concert, makes total sense) was really nice. I also loved how Jungkook was a YouTuber, that's totally something he could be, if his life went a different direction.

Seungri noticed Jungkook, told the guys about him, and they all gave Jungkook's camera some love was neat, too. They got him onto the stage and Jungkook fulfilled his mega-fan dream of performing with the big boys, that was ultra sweet of them (and Brea, I guess). And the excited Jungkook after he returned to Y/N was so easy to picture, it was great. As I said in the Reader's Standing, is this the same bar Y/N in the Taehyung AU was taken to? It was nice to see Jimin again though, hee hee, and I really liked how Jimin and Jungkook talked about why Jimin wasn't with Taehyung—the struggles of being a famous idol, right?

Jungkook shooing away Jimin was also cute, and how Brea mentioned that Jungkook and Y/N just sat with a couple drinks and talked with a little buzz was nice. Jungkook's explanation of how he and Y/N are soulmates was a nice touch, I really can't get enough of picturing how those bells sound. Small kiss from Y/N to Jungkook was super sweet, and yes, YES, I would love it if those bells evolved into like, an entire little melody, ah. This one was somehow very relaxing to read, I enjoyed it.

Jungkook isn't even my bias wrecker and I want to punch him with a pillow for being so cute in this AU, dammit.

Jimin AU (Reader's Standing):

For some reason the picture of Jimin wouldn't load and I'm immediately a little sad because I don't get to see his pink hair and those amazingly adorable cheeks of his. Not to mention his gorgeous eyes and just AERNUOEWATO Jimin is great. ;w;

Y/N is legit me, but I'm reading hentai manga instead of an 'actual book'. Just kidding, I'd be reading Piers Anthony.

Cool cafe, would definitely go there.

But reading sometimes stresses me out, so... I just stick to Piers and other fantasy others who don't write about female leads, sorry, but I really fucking love men. >w<

Aw yes look at that, his pink hair is peeking through, I wish I could reach into this story and touch it, fuck

The Chim just keeps getting closer... and closer... God that's cute, it's so like him, I love that.

'marches his way right over to you'—AEUROOAEUNCOWEASNLU thank you Brea, I'm dying a little

Soft speaking is so cute, good Lord, bless this AU

I'm just excited to read this for a second time, I love Jimin so damn much, aaaa

Just reading with Jimin would be so nice, that one paragraph had such a quiet feeling to it, ah.

Oh no, he went back on tour </3

he'S BACK AND HE TAPPED Y/N'S HAND MY LORD

I would totally jump up and hug Jimin, sorry not sorry, that man needs so much love for being so cute and... A N D *heavy breathing*

Oh right Y/N does it anyway

Awww yes he hugs back ;w;

Ooh, familiar scent and a long hug, that's definitely romantic.

bOOK HANDING OVER INCEPTION. Thank you for that little nod, ah.

I would probably fit in his suitcase tbh I mean I'm 145cm and he's what, 165cm?? It would totally work out, guys.

fiNGERS ENTWINE SCREEEEEEE

Sneaky Jimin putting his number in Y/N's pocket. Wait he's also part of the pervert line, BREA ARE YOU SURE HE DIDN'T TAP Y/N'S ASS A LITTLE? Lol just kidding, but still, nice move, Jimin.

He smells like books, bless

NOT TO MENTION THE KISSES GOOD LORD

That note was so sweet holy shit

Good ending oh my God that was such a nice ending

Jimin AU (Critic's Standing):

How do I write a formal review, again? I loved the book cafe, that was such a natural place for this to happen. Y/N and Jimin meeting week after week, and Jimin inching closer and closer until he literally comes right up to Y/N and all I could think of was a fluffy puppy running, and it killed me. I really liked how Y/N and Jimin established a quiet relationship, that's like, friendship, and friendship is so nice. Then Jimin left and I felt a little empty with Y/N, and I'm just sitting here thinking about how easily you were able to make me relate to Y/N. He came back blond (I refuse to add the 'e' for a male; I'm Canadian, that's just how the French do things, nothing wrong with the more modern/American way >w<) and had to tap Y/N's hand to get their attention, and then there's that adorable hug that just warmed my heart.

Then there was a very well executed explanation of how Jimin knows he and Y/N are soulmates and how he slipped a note into their pocket when they hugged. And I'm completely serious when I say that I would love to just stuff myself into Jimin's suitcase, ha ha ha! The kisses were also a really nice touch, the note was very sweet, and again, Y/N's last say in this scenario as they gave in to temptation and texted Jimin was adorable. Jimin's explanation and the note really did it for me, heh. I enjoyed Jungkook's the most, out of these three, but this was also really relaxing to read.

OK, that's it, for the maknae line! Onto the hyung line. Thanks again for reading, everyone.

[potentiala]

Soudam Week: Day 1 - Non-Despair School Life

Hi! This my first work for Danganronpa, and I thought’s be a nice break from GM and Voltron as a whole, so please enjoy! <3 (and yes, all of these will be posted on my AO3)

This was utter nonsense.

  Pure, unadulterated tomfoolery in his opinion. And, considering it was the opinion of the Supreme Overlord of Ice and future ruler of this pathetic mortal realm, it should’ve mattered a great deal. Yes.

Should’ve.

  But against his very vehemnet protests, this... menial task was still thrust upon him. Him! The Great Gundham Tanaka! This was an insult, an outrage . And yet...Gundham didn’t dare refuse. For fear, cold blooded and rabid, fear of one homeroom teacher Chisa Yukizome. A truly monstrous mortal that even Gundam wished never to anger. Not again.

Never again.

  So here he was, the cursed offspring between an Angel and a Devil, having to ask a classmate of all things for assistance. Which was, as Gundham had previously stated, utter nonsense. The classmate in question was one Kazuichi Souda. The Super Highschool Level Mechanic.

And someone Gundham would’ve rather not interacted with.

  N-Not because that mortal with the wonderfully hellish teeth and the sharp, glitteringly intelligent eyes had caught his own all-seeing eye! N-Nor the fact that even his wonderful Dark Devas of Destruction had deemed such a mortal worthy of their nuzzles and affections. Or e-even how that loud, boisterous laughter can bring even his all-powerful ice heart to a steady melt . Wait-

Was had he been talking about?

  Oh! Right! Final projects. Yes, the projects... which are final . Those projects. Ahem, anyway, Gundham needed Souda’s help. You see, he project was to design a product that would assist one in Ultimate Talent. His other classmates had steadily finished their’s over the past months.

  The Always Hungry One had created a sort of portable sandwich holder. The Devil Dancer had invented a speaker that shouted recorded insults at those the machine recognized, greatly distressing the Timid One. The Red Eyed One and the Baby Faced One had collaborated on a project and produced a sort of decoding device. Naturally, the Great Gundham Tanaka had came up with something even better.

A cage!

  But not just any cage, this was a cage that could read the wait of an animal and adjust it’s diameters to fit the warrior properly. It was ingenious! So when his homeroom teacher had informed him that the idea and the sketches he made weren’t going to be enough to pass, the Overlord of Ice was begrudgingly forced to seek out the Sharp Toothed One for assistance on creating a prototype.

But that was proving rather difficult.

  Hope’s Peak was a huge palace with many twists and turns, not to mention seemingly infinite lab space for each of its students. So Gundam was forced to run back and forth in an increasingly frustrating search for the mechanic. It was then that his cursed ears picked up the distant siren song of a radio.

“I don’t wanna talk about it...I don’t wanna think about it.”

  It was coming somewhere further down the hall of endless garages. Could it be? Gundham decided to take a chance all follow the call of the radio enchantress.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

  All the papers and folders and pamphlets containing help information pertaining to Gundam’s project suddenly turned moist under his palms. There! Underneath the voice trapped in the radio, was that-? Gundham’s heart leapt to his throat.

Beating far too fast for something made of ice.

“Even when you’re next to me, it’s not the way I’m picturing.”

Souda.

  Gundham knew it, felt it. Underneath all that noise, was Souda’s voice. Quietly following along the song with near masterful accuracy. NOt quite melodious, but far from off-key. Just right and wonderful . This...actually came as a shock to the Ultimate Breeder.

He’d never heard something quite like it.

  Yes, he, the Great Gundham Tanaka and Super Highschool Level Animal Breeder, had never heard Souda’s voice like this . N-Not that he had actively listened into the Sharp Toothed One’s conversations! No! Not at all! I-It just seemed out of the ordinary for someone like Souda.

Which only flustered Gundham even more.

  Clearly , this was previously unknown side of Souda. Side no one knew. Until now. And he, Gundham Tanaka, now knew something about Kazuichi Souda that no one else did! Not even his beloved ‘soul brother.’ It made the Overlord of Ice preen up just the slightest bit in pride as he ventured even closer to that soft voice.

“You wanna be friends forever?”

Then it hit him.

  The Sharp Toothed One...He would most likely detest the idea of Gundham’s knowledge of this particular behavior of his. Which sent his cold heart plummeting to the deep, dark pit of Gundham’s stomach.

His mood coming down with it.

“I can think of something better.”

It was because of the She-Cat.

  That’s all Gundham was able to decipher from the absolute anomaly that was Kazuichi Souda. Apparently, the Sharp Tooth One was under the misunderstanding that he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, held romantic... affections for the Dark Queen.

Which was far, far from the truth.

  While it was true that the She-Cat was a strong and welcomed ally in his plans for world-domination, she was just that. A trusted and valued ally . Souda... Souda was different. Souda was the twist in his stomach and the worrying falter of his heart. Souda was sleepless nights dreaming of dyed hair in his hands and restless mornings filled with vain efforts to try not to stare too much at still sleep-soft expressions on Souda’s face. Sonia was stability and simplicity. Souda was nothing like that.

Souda was chaos.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

And Gundham loved it.

  It was because of the chaos Souda created within him that the Overlord of Ice could see no other being worthy of sharing his path. No other person qualified to rule the world by his side.

But that just wasn’t meant to be.

“Sleeping here right next to me...”

  For even he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, was subject to the cruel mistress that is fate. And that mistress had foretold of Souda’s doomed feelings for the She-Cat. But, what was once a strained, uncomfortable relation, had now grew into a fairly stable friendship.

Leaving him behind.

“But will you ever mess with me?”

It was Invading Black Dragon Cham-P that woke him from his stupor.

  Rubbing against his commander’s poisonous cheek softly, as if to raise his spirits. An action Gunham took full advantage of to pet his beloved Deva in a similarly caring manner. The other Devas eventually emerging from the Angel’s scarf to see what else they could do to combat their commander’s sudden sadness.

San-D’s eyes glinting dangerously.

  That alone should have tipped Gundham off. But thoughts of his rotting relationship thwe Souda and the Sharp Toothed One himself had made the Overlord of Ice weak , soft. As they always did. If only for a moment, a second .

Which was all the Devas needed.

  Shooting from their home in the Angel’s scarf with all the power of true hellbeasts. Sprinting, as if their lives depended on it, the second their paws hit the cool floor. Gundham jolting in shock. Wait! No!

They were going to Souda!

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Gundham could only run after them in a near-mad dash. They couldn’t alert the Sharp Toothed One to his presence! Not when he was so unprepared! But the Devas’ plan had worked. In forcing the pair’s meeting to occur faster, Gundham’s misery was altogether forgotten.  

“No...”

  Souda’s voice was but a soft howl as the Devas disappeared around the corner and into Souda’s open garage. Gundham barely able to skid to a halt at the edge of the doorframe. His, now frantic heart, almost beating out of the cage in his chest. The music was louder now, as was Souda’s voice.

Oddly comforting.

  A soft squeaks of his Devas finally gave Gundham the push he needed to peer inside Souda’s garage. And, for the second time that day, the Great Gundham Tanaka was once again shocked.

It was...different than what he had imagined.

  With large windows taking up nearly half the massive walls. Letting a great deal of natural light that made even the greasiest tools and half-finished projects sparkle. Like a magic spell, the garage was suddenly transformed into a room full of secret runes and treasures Gundham immediately longed to understand. Large metal shelves piled with current works and spare parts. And there, near the largest work table in the center of that sunlit scene, was the Ultimate Mechanic himself.

Souda.

“But at least i got you in my head, oh yeah...”

  And, like casting a magic spell, Gundham was entranced. Souda stood, with his back to the door, his long pink hair tied together in a single, glorious braid flowing between his lean shoulders. The soft, curling ends just fluttering above the small of his back treacherously. Gundham’s bandaged fingers twitching to the sudden urge to wrap his fist around the velvet rope of hair and tug the mechanic closer to him. The Overlord of Ice had seldom seen Souda’s hair like this, only appearing every seasonal heat wave or so. But, apparently, the Sharp Toothed One seemed to prefer to bind his hair whilst he worked, his beanie long since discarded. Oh Dear Dark Gods.

Gundham really liked his hair like that.

“At least I got you in my head, in my head.”

  Oh vexed vixen! Just as his all-seeing eye had trailed down the shining length of Souda’s tetresses, the little minx moved! No. No, moved wasn’t the right word for it. Not when Gundham felt a cursed heat spread throughout his face. Oh no.

He was dancing.

  Swaying his hips lazily side to side as he sang along to the radio. Gundham’s eyes following every movement. The garishly yellow jumpsuit was gone. Leaving the Souda in nothing but a stained white tank top and equally smudged jeans. The outfit clinging to his muscled frame in such a way it was downright sinful.

And wonderfully so.

“Sleepovers in my head, oh yeah…”

  As if that wasn’t already dangerous to Gundham’s health, Souda’s shoulders also adapted that same torturous swaying motion. Making the long braid of pink hair dangle teasingly behind him. Souda then moved to the short side of the table, taking a long stream of mechanized joints along with him.

Still never catching sight of the Ultimate Breeder.

  Much to Gundham’s relief, as his heart felt as if it would burst from the sheer pressure of this...this trance the Sharp Toothed One had him under. Damn it, he had underestimated the sheer amount of demonic energy this lusty creature had! The Overlord of Ice was surely paying for such negligence now.

Especially as he saw the Devas inching closer to Souda.

“But at least I got you in my head...”

  The Overlord of Ice had to furiously bite his tongue in order to resist the urge to call them back to him and indefinitely alerting Souda to his presence. Unable to do anything except look desperately into their hellfire eyes and beg them not to reveal themselves. But they just sat there, near the other end of the table. Staring at him as if to say, “Give it a chance.”

A chance?

  What would a chance do? Gundham didn’t need a chance! He need Heaven and Hell in his hands for Souda to even consider him, the Great Gundham Tanaka, as a...a romantic partner! He needed bend the very fabric of reality to-

San-D bared her teeth.

  Tiny and flat, they didn’t look dangerous. But Gundham knew better. San-D was a fierce and powerful warrior who commanded both fear and respect amongst all of Gundham’s trusted army. As such, Gundham valued the pull of her devilish instincts to a very high regard.

This was one such case.

  She looked at him and bared her fangs with all the esaperated anger of a third wheeling friend. Forcing Gundham to, once again, re-evaluate his situation. Casting Souda under his all-seeing eyes once more.

  The Ultimate Mechanic's body was leaning over the table, fussing over another joint in the machine. The end of the screwdriver pinched between those magnificently sharp teeth, the music long forgotten as he zeroed in on the offending part. Gaze sharp enough to dismantle the project before him with his mind, but hands skilled enough to fix any and all errors. No matter how miniscule.

Gundham swallowed.

  It was that razor-sharp focus and tunneled passion that drew Gundham to Souda in the first place. In addition to the vicious teeth and cackling laughter. And, ever since the, thing have only gotten worse and worse between the two. Much to the Overlord of Ice’s dismay. But...perhaps...it wasn’t too late.

Souda cheered.

  The sound shocking Gundham from his place at the door frame as Souda blessed the bright, mechanical room with the warmth of his smile. Having been proved victorious in correcting whatever foul error dare cross his path. Sharp toothed and gleaming in the light. He had a smudge of oil on his cheek. Under his left eye, with blobs of it sticking to the part of his hair too short to make it into his braid. Flopping around his face and fluttering up into the hair. The sun’s light only further highlighting how soft and achingly touchable it was. That’s it.

That was the final straw.

“In my head...”

  Gundham looked to San-D and the rest of his beloved Devas. Nodding to them, he gave his permission to continue with their plan. And just like that, the Devas quickly ran up to souda and pounced on the unsuspecting mechanic. All while their commander busied himself with flattening down his hair and straightening his scarf. Souda screaming as the Four Dark Devas quickly took hold of the object of their commander’s pining.

“In my he-GAH!”

“Bwahaha! Foolish mortal, leaving your guard down while I reside within this world? Truly, this is another victory for the Great Gundham Tanaka!”

[phantomrose96]

A Breach of Trust: Chapter 24

(Act 1: Chapter 1-9 )

(Act 2: Chapter 10-18 )

(Act 3: Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23)

Content warning for somewhat graphic horror. Very lengthy chapter under the cut!

When Ritsu bore his wrist, he swore he’d grown used to it.

When the first spirit lunged, Ritsu was proven wrong.

The tearing out of power was still something alien, like gauze yanked from a stuffed wound. It was something unphysical scraping against tissue and muscle and bone, and it came with a pang, a shock of light-headedness. Ritsu showed none of it on his face, because he swore he’d be used to it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Teru. Teru stood bored, scrutinizing, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. His expression suggested thinning patience, and Ritsu couldn’t pin point why. Maybe it was the amount of time Ritsu took with the feeding. Maybe it was the clumsy way he handled it. Maybe it was anger left over from the last mission, when Ritsu had panicked and nearly fired the shot at the office worker who’d—

Ritsu’s breath stuttered. A harsh pull and snap from the feeding spirit seemed to rock Ritsu’s whole body. His balance faltered, legs squaring, breath deepening as he fought the sudden pricks of starlight in his vision.

A quick stumble. That was it. Sweat trickled down Ritsu’s neck but, he was handling it. The sun rimmed high over the soccer field above, casting the spirits into pale amalgams of dust, writhing between beams. They seemed less real like this in the warm light. So Ritsu could stand his ground against each prick and pull and shock of unreal teeth against his skin. Normal. Routine. He wouldn’t falter in front of Teru.

When the last spirit pulled away, Ritsu’s heart rate had quickened. A quiet ringing had entered his ears, and a shivering numbness pulsed through his body. But he remained aware, and upright, and alert. He was getting better at this.

Ritsu grabbed his bag from the concrete, and stepped with forced steadiness to Teru’s side. Ritsu holstered the bag over his shoulder, willing the numbness to fade.

“Ready?” Ritsu asked, offering a scowl a bit too performative.

Teru grimaced. He raised his index finger beneath his nose and mimed a wiping gesture.

Ritsu stared, perplexed. There was nothing on Teru’s face. After a moment, an icy thought hit him. Ritsu opened his mouth and touched his tongue to his upper lip. Coppery wetness spread through his mouth. Ritsu moved a hand to his nose and rubbed. Something wet trailed from the left nostril, and he pulled his hand away to examine the crimson stain webbing along the creases of his palm.

Behind Ritsu’s outstretched hand, Teru’s wrist flicked. Ritsu blinked back to attention and found Teru holding a pack of travel tissues, one tissue snagged between two fingers and extended. Ritsu took it silently.

“Don’t get any on me,” Teru said, turning on his heel, moving ahead of Ritsu to the front of the school.

Ritsu wiped the blood from his nose, and tested with a tap of his finger to see if he was still bleeding. Nothing. He stashed the tissue into his pocket, and spun to catch up with Teru.

It was a dry day. Ritsu refused to consider anything past that.

…

Gimcrack acted as guide, unnoticed and unseen as he led Ritsu and Teru far from the Salt Mid alleyway.  They wound down residential streets, buildings and concrete thinning as trees appeared in greater number. The streets were peppered with small wooden shops nearly mistakable for townhouses and small abodes with lawns larger than Ritsu was used to seeing. They cut through yards where Gimcrack seemed inclined to phase through buildings, crunching leaves beneath their heels and vaulting a fence to a house old and decrepit and dark. They kept walking, leaving behind the heart of Seasoning City and settling on a small street of shops lined wall to wall. Gimcrack halted in front of a thin and tall building, paneled with wood, warmly lit from the inside.

“Is this it?” Teru tilted his head up to Gimcrack, who floated intentionally too high, outside grabbing range. Teru had become openly hostile with Gimcrack since his abandonment of them in the office building, and he made the tension know. The hair on Ritsu’s neck bristled.

“Yup.” Gimcrack gestured to the storefront. “Energy’s spilling outta this place. Give it a feel.”

Teru placed a palm against the entrance. “Why don’t you scope it out first, Gimcrack?”

“Nuh-uh.” Gimcrack crossed his bony arms over his body in an X shape. “I don’t want to get eaten up by whatever’s in there.”

“Would you rather I exorcise you?”

“Hey, Kageyama!” Gimcrack swooped down to Ritsu’s level, tugging loosely on his collar and hiding a fraction behind Ritsu’s frame. “Think you can control your friend a little? You’re the one leading this mission, aint ya?”

Teru let out a bark of a laugh. Ritsu shoved the door in without comment.

Chimes clanked above them. Warm light washed over Ritsu’s face, the dense smell of cinnamon and cloves. Ritsu blinked. Color in the form of tightly wound bundles tucked into endless bins assaulted him.

Teru shoved ahead of Ritsu, beaming.

“Oh it’s a yarn shop!” Teru dropped his bag at the entrance and sauntered in, stooping at each display to feel out the texture of the different wools. He picked up something gaudy, fluffy, and pink and held it to the light. “I’ve been meaning to make another sweater.”

Ritsu held the side display, lips pursed in irritation. His eyes scanned the store. Wooden paneling dominated the walls and floor, almost cabin-like in its beveling. Dozens of wooden bins lined the walls, organized by thickness and texture, colors splashed in almost haphazardly. A grouped display of 6 bins sat at the center of the room, thick bundles of saturated blues, oranges, pinks, and yellows. Construction paper signs lined the display, advertising discounts.

Teru practically floated between displays, amassing a bundle in his arms of yarn offensively bright and frilly.

Reluctantly, Ritsu’s eyes trailed to Teru, taking note of the bins that Teru dug through and the bundles he grabbed. The first was a yarn deeply orange and scratchy-looking to the touch, the color of an old and bitter cat. From the neighboring bin, Teru snagged a bundle thin and turquoise, yarn winding in defined streaks along the surface. The next was a bin of pinks with feather nubs along the length of string. Then another ball, red velvety and thick.

Ritsu’s attention shifted to the rack of guide books, the starter kits, the sewing needles tucked to the side with spindles of thread stacked up in plastic displays like candy. Grated shelves lined the top of each wall, bearing specialty bundles of yarn, metallic needles arranged by ascending size, as well as an odd display of small hooked needles.

Soft light trickled through the ceiling window, floating dust catching in the shine, baking the interior with a noxious cocktail of Christmas spices. Ritsu was uncomfortably warm.

“My last sweater was pink, like this kind here.” Teru lifted the pink yarn, unreasonably fluffy, like a small Pomeranian. “One of my favorites. But I’ve been dying for something turquoise. That’ll bring out the color of my eyes hmm? Or do you think something a bit dimmer, more of an aqua? I’ve heard lavender suits me wonderfully.”

Ritsu’s eyes flickered to Teru’s uniform. Then away. Thinking about it was bad for his blood pressure.

“Focus,” Ritsu muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Gimcrack hadn’t followed them inside. So Ritsu gave the display area another glance. Nothing stood out. He looked deeper; the store stretched further back, a single doorway propped open in the back-right corner. Stairs led up to the left. Ritsu chewed his tongue, and then set his sights on the stairs.

“I’m going to check upstairs. You get the back,” Ritsu said.

“Good plan. I don’t want you down here destroying any yarn.”

Ritsu considered replying and thought better of it. He set one experimental foot to the first step.

“Can I help you boys?”

Ritsu froze. He dropped his hand from the railing and glanced sideways. A woman with graying hair and spectacles stood at the threshold between the front of the store and the backroom. She watched him with a smile as warm as the store, eyes small, cheeks plump. Her cardigan bore the design of deer and trees, clearly hand-knit.

She stepped closer, navigating around yarn bins and tilting her head around to better see Ritsu.

“Oh, Dearie no, the door up there is locked. There’s nothing for sale up there. Are you looking for something a little extra?”

Slowly, Ritsu removed his foot from the stair. “Um…”

“Ah!” Teru answered, and even Ritsu startled a bit at the grandiose in his voice. Teru shoved his gathered-up yarn into the crook of his right arm. He moved with wide, swaying steps to the woman, smile open and friendly, and took her by the shoulder with his free hand. “My dear my dear I am having the hardest time my dear.” Teru spun her around, guiding her back where she came. “See my sister just adores my handknit crafts, and her 16th birthday is coming up soon. I have this new ribbed pattern I want to try out—a simple knit-3 purl-3, ribbing about yay-big—and I am just beside myself finding a color and texture to my liking—“

Ritsu watched with an expression of contempt for every word he couldn’t understand.

“—I was thinking something cocoa colored. She has these gorgeous chocolate brown eyes—oh, quite like yours—that I think would sparkle marvelously with—oh now don’t be bashful! Your eyes are glimmering love. Anyway, a chalky cocoa, but not too dense hmm? I want the rib pattern to show through, and if the yarn is too frilly it hides the pattern. And I considered larger needle size but who needs a loosely-knit sweater my dear am I right?”

Ritsu filtered out Teru’s rambling. His leg bounced, jaw biting down tight to keep him from snapping at Teru. It wouldn’t be worth drawing suspicion. He could only wait, seething quietly at Teru’s utter lack of concern.

For a split second, Ritsu and Teru locked eyes. A quick twitch of Teru’s head, a split second of piercing eye-contact, explosive in its silence. Teru’s eyes jerked to the stairway leading up, and Ritsu understood with a rush of shame what was happening.

Ritsu mounted the stairs again, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to creak the wood beneath his feet while Teru kept the shop owner distracted. Teru’s rambling continued unimpeded, words like “gauge” and “crochet” and “casting” assaulting Ritsu’s ears, along with overly saccharine compliments to the shopkeeper who only giggled in response. She responded, voice drawing away into the backroom with her and Teru’s footsteps. Ritsu kept climbing.

The air grew mustier and warmer as he ascended, the staircase leading up to an attic tucked into the wooden paneling. At the top was a single door, its white-painted face chipped, top corner shaven and jammed in the doorframe. Ritsu tested the knob, and it held firm under his grip.

He tightened his hand, a small shock of purple energy mangling the metal with a pop. When he twisted again, the lock gave, loose metal pieces tinkering down as he eased the door open. It swung in, giving way to a small bedroom tucked into the attic, triangular in shape. The bed took up most space, covered with a quilt sewn of patches long-faded. A wooden night stand sat beside it, red-blinking clock and a lamp adorning its top. Natural light flooded in from the panel of windows across from the bed, paling the carpeting. A small dusty tv sat perched in front of it, its front consumed in shadow. Sweat trickled down Ritsu’s neck, and the warm and dense smell of lavender flowed over him.

Ritsu noticed the laundry basket to his left, and for a moment was swamped with guilt for wearing his shoes in this woman’s house.

The thought vanished instantly, consumed by a new twanging of his heart as he gave a second look to the laundry basket. The air above it shifted, schismed, as though above a hot tar road in summer. Ritsu approached it steadily, palm buzzing with a hint of energy. He screwed his eyes to focus, a small headache building behind his skull.

He saw it. Small and curled and wispy green, a cat dozed on the folded linen sheets. It let out a small fluttering purr, and the tension left Ritsu’s body. He backed away from it, chewing his tongue, letting his shoulders sag. It wasn’t anything. Not his brother. Not a dangerous spirit. Just a ghost cat, asleep on some laundry.

He wiped his sleeve along his brow and stood still, heart rate calming. He watched the cat for longer, the muffled sing-song sound of Teru’s conversation bubbling through the carpeting. It was curled in the sun, its body scarcely visible in the beam that floated dust through the room. Ritsu’s hand twitched. He considered his options, but he only came up empty. There was no use in doing anything to the cat. No use in him and Teru being here.

Nothing that would lead him any closer to Mob.

“Sorry, cat,” Ritsu offered quietly. He turned on his heel.

And he screamed when something ghastly stared back.

Ritsu stumbled back, just as the creature shoved a bony arm out and jammed something sharp into the socket of Ritsu’s left shoulder. Ritsu let out a muffled cry and clamped his arm to his shoulder. He forced his eyes to focus. A man of sorts, dressed in a faded apron, his eyes pits of black that seemed to have melted. The holes where his eyes should have been had wept down his face dripping over hollow cheek bones. His skin was waxy, greasy, peeled and glistening as thought severely burned, right to the stub of ashen hair left at the top of his head.

Ritsu’s eyes shot to the spirit’s hand, bearing the wispy, immaterial form of a knife. He unclamped his hand from his shoulder, seeing the faintest trickle of blood ooze from the wound.

“You can see Mitzy…” the spirit rasped. It inched closer. “Are you a ghost? Are you a ghost too? Here to steal her from me?”

Ritsu stumbled back, hands up. “No! No I don’t want your stupid cat!”

“Not the cat… My food. Her…”

Confusion twisted Ritsu’s face. His breathing hitched in his throat.

“…That lady downstairs!?”

“She’s mine…”

The spirit lunged again, and Ritsu dodged, knocking into the nightstand. He fell, back slamming against the drawer. The lamp wobbled and crashed beside him. Ritsu startled, and then shoved himself to his feet and scrambled before another lunge of the knife could slice him.

He backed away from the spirit, trying to keep the distance between them, though he only managed to back himself into a corner. Ritsu glanced behind him, bug-eyed, finger tips feeling out the corner of the paneled walling. The spirit closed the gap in slow hobbling steps. Energy coiled around the knife, and Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut, breath shaking.

Not again. Not this again.

He needed to do better. He needed to be better if he ever wanted to measure up to Teru. If he ever wanted to take down the thing that took his brother.

He needed to stop shaking. He needed to stop panicking. He needed to stop shutting down every time the danger inched too close.

He needed to be steady. Deliberate. Focused.

He needed to be like Teru.

His eyes snapped open as the spirit lunged, and Ritsu released a tendril of energy from his palm. It wrapped around the offending ghost, snagging tight at his midsection and pinning his arms to his side. The spirit came crashing forward, smashing to the floor and oozing against the rope that grated him. It screeched, teeth gnashing, and all the while its restrained arm swung the knife in arcs wherever he could slash it.

Mitzy woke up, blinked, let out a displeased yowl and hopped off the laundry pile. Her tail flicked as she sauntered out the open attic door.

Ritsu didn’t pay the ghost cat any mind. He only tested his grip on the rope. He had meant for chains, something like Teru had used to restrain the spirits of his horde. What Ritsu managed to create was formless, but still strong enough to hold the writhing spirit.

He took a step closer, breath steadying, momentarily eyeing the smashed lamp and the open door. Nothing appeared there, no sound except for the muffled conversation that carried on below, and the noises of the spirit at his mercy. Ritsu refocused, attentive to the spirit that snapped its teeth at him and hissed. Its wilting weepy eyes melted further down its face as it howled, seeming to lose vigor the more its greasy burnt body decayed. Ritsu extended his hand once more, letting off a twist of glowing purple energy to wrapped around the spirits mouth, muzzling it.

Ritsu closed the gap between them, and the expression on the spirit’s face shifted. Lashing anger melted to something meeker, something more sober, its wide dripping eyes seeming to come to an understanding. Ritsu’s hand paused. He didn’t exorcise the spirit just yet. Something about the expression halted him. Something familiar in it.

Ritsu, bearing down on the spirit, recognized the fear of something hunted. Trapped and cornered and at the mercy of something more powerful. He recognized it as the mangled, twisted emotion in his own chest at every feeding of the spirit.

He stretched his hand out and set it against the spirit’s throat. The spirit whimpered through its gag, and Ritsu gave an experimental tug. It wasn’t a physical motion. It was something in his core, like inhaling, like swallowing, but something purely routed through the channels where his psychic power flowed.

Ritsu watched the energy leech out of the spirit’s face, and soak into his own hand.

If the spirits could feed off of him, that meant he could feed off of them…

Ritsu strained his hand harder. The muffled cries of the spirit lessened as it withered, curdling inward, losing shape and form as its ether drained away. Ritsu looked away, just a bit unsettled by the destruction unfolding before his eyes.

The throbbing behind his eyes lessened. The ache in his chest eased. The scattered numbness vanished from his limbs almost instantly, as though he’d never even fed the spirits that afternoon. When Ritsu finally looked, nothing of the spirit remained, and the lack of pain coursing through his body was almost euphoric.

Slowly, Ritsu set his left thumb to his wrist. He rubbed, searching for the aching torn wound the spirits fed themselves from. Nothing of the sort appeared. The wound had healed, stained only with a shimmering bit of purple residue.

A shivering brushed through his leg, and Ritsu startled. He stepped back, eyes swinging down. Mitzy trailed between his feet, nudging her head against Ritsu’s pant leg. Ritsu eased. He crouched down, and put out a hand for Mitzy to investigate. She sniffed it, then rubbed her hand against it, then stretched further to examine Ritsu’s wrist. Ritsu let this happen. He held his wrist exposed. Mitzy licked at the violet residue smeared along his healed skin, and licked until not a single stain remained.

Her tongue tickled, cold.

…

Iciness clung to the interior of the bus, soaking through the windows with a chill almost wet to the touch. Ritsu leaned against the black glass, jostling slightly, arms folded in, coat unbuttoned. He watched passing streetlights, blips of light along a stretch of road massive and vacant and dark. The scenery had thinned to almost nothing, buildings and trees growing sparse until the outskirts of the city loomed, liminal and far-removed. The bus’s light washed fluorescent and sterile against the glass, so that Ritsu’s own stiff expression stared back at him. He felt far away from it all, Seasoning City drawing away behind him, consumed into dark nothing.

Teru sat beside Ritsu, immersed in his phone, fingers twitching and silent except for the occasional jangle of phone charms. He hunched forward, uninterested in the thinning scenery outside. Ritsu caught the flipped image of hearts and kissy emojis in the window’s reflection. Everything reflected at a slant, brighter and clearer than the sparse and empty inky blackness beyond. Ritsu exhaled, and his breath fogged the window.

Empty seats surrounded them, the last two people on the bus.

“It’s this next one,” Ritsu said. He tapped the button to signal the driver.

Teru only nodded, and chuckled secretively at his phone before slipping it back in his pocket. He hopped from his seat into the walkway and moved toward the front of the bus before it even began to slow. Ritsu followed in silence.

The huff of brakes, swing of doors, clawing cold of air curling into the bus. Teru whipped out a bus pass to wave in front of the sensor, and he gave the driver a cordial smile before descending the steps to the concrete below. Ritsu dug around in his coat pockets for the change he’d scrounged from his room, and dropped the coins into the till with fingers a bit numb from the cold. He didn’t acknowledge the driver as he descended the steps to the pale concrete below. He wanted no one seeing his face.

The bus door shivered shut, and its engine kicked back in with a heavy sigh. It left behind the faint acid smell of gasoline as it tugged along, consumed in the street that carried on straight and narrow and nondescript. Then it vanished entirely, leaving Ritsu in the pallid lighting of the lone glass bus stop. Wind tore between Ritsu’s ankles. He shivered, hunched into the jacket, and shoved his hands deep into the pockets.

Ritsu stared at the bus stop. Teru had seated himself on the provided bench, legs crossed, fingers flying over the screen of his phone. The blue light lit his smirk, warm feathery jacket hunched up by his shoulders. Moonlight struck the left side of him, silvery and ghostly. Ritsu assumed he must have looked the same. He didn’t check, merely staring until Teru looked up and they locked eyes.

“Which way?” Ritsu asked.

Teru shrugged, and he pocketed his phone again. “How should I know? Aren’t you the mission leader?”

“The address. Your phone has a GPS. I sent you the address.”

“My hands’ll get cold. Use Gimcrack.”

“He’s meeting us there. Ghosts can’t ride the bus.”

“Oh. Hmm. Yeah. Of course.” Teru stood and stretched, his breath puffing silver beneath the moon. “I trust him. He’s a trustworthy guy.”

“Just use your phone!”

“I’m conserving the battery.”

“Hanazawa!” Ritsu barked. His breath curled crisp. A lone car streaked past, passing and leaving them in ringing silence. Ritsu let his shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of him. He was tired. “Please? We’re just wasting time. This bus only runs once an hour, and the route shuts down at midnight.” Ritsu snagged his flip phone from his pocket and opened it. “And it’s 9:15 now.”

Teru shrugged. “Well.” He pulled out his own smart phone, flicking through apps and settling on the map icon. He gave it a moment to adjust, then motioned his head down the far sloping end of the road. He spun on his heels and walked forward. “Then let’s not dawdle. It’s ten minutes this way.”

Ritsu followed in silence, hunched in against the wind that whipped his ears.

Only two turns lay on their route. Ritsu made sure to memorize each of them as they passed in case Teru’s phone died during the raid. He struggled each time for a landmark. Every turn looked the same, sparse of trees and houses, only deep-stretching roads linking one town to the next. After ten minutes, the trees grew denser, taller and more woods-like. The road became gravel, and the GPS brought them down a beaten-in dirt road, burrowing down and away and leading to a warehouse massive and metal. An equally impressive parking lot sat beside it, lined with trucks resting beneath flood-lights. Trees rung the lot, tall and mangled in the moonlight. Ritsu followed down the road. Gravel crunching beneath his feet. He felt around inside the coat pocket, hand settling on the flashlight tucked inside.

“Gimcrack!”

Ritsu called to the blob of dark violet energy he spotted hovering pallid beneath one of the lights stretching over the warehouse roof. Gimcrack waved in response, and Ritsu picked up his pace.

“Is anyone around?” Ritsu asked, eyes shooting periodically to the monolith trucks, skeleton like, beneath the lights. Gimcrack shook his head.

“Nah.” Gimcrack’s attention shifted behind Ritsu, and Ritsu heard Teru’s steps approaching slow and even. Gimcrack hovered a few inches further away. “Last guy left about an hour ago.”

Ritsu turned, investigating the warehouse. Massive steel garage doors lined one side, a loading dock. Beside them, a short set of concrete stairs led to a door. Ritsu stepped to them, climbing. He wrapped his hand around the handle, long thin and metallic, cold to the touch. He tested it. It didn’t budge. He twisted harder. Locked.

Ritsu let go and turned to Gimcrack. “How do we get in?”

“I get you in,” Gimcrack answered. He drifted closer, gauging Ritsu’s reaction. “You gotta let me help though.”

Ritsu felt a hand, clammy and spider-like, settle on his shoulder. He jerked, but Gimcrack’s grip remained firm.

“What—“

“Just relax a second okay? Drop your guard.”

Ritsu only stared. His eyes shifted to Teru, who made no attempt to hide the suspicion on his face.

“What are you doing?” Ritsu asked, tense.

“If you relax for just like, two seconds here kid, I can show you. Unscrew your face would you?”

Reluctantly, Ritsu eased his shoulders. He breathed deep, and he felt Gimcrack’s hand phase deeper. An iciness washed through his whole core, a sensation like being dunked in ice water.

“Touch the door again,” Gimcrack said.

Ritsu did, tentatively. His eyes widened as his hand slipped right through the metal.

“I get you in, I get you out, maybe with an extra brother huh?”

Ritsu retracted his hand from the door. “Is this safe?”

“Is any of this safe?” Gimcrack asked.

“Yeah, no,” Teru answered, cold and firm. He stepped up beside Ritsu, eyes sharp and aura leaking with aggression. Gimcrack hopped away from the two of them. “We’ll just blast a door in. You can leave.”

“And trigger all their alarms? You sure you want that kiddo?” Gimcrack asked. He paused, reading Teru’s icy expression, and a smile crawled over his lips. “I’m just offering a generous service here.”

“It’s fine, probably,” Ritsu answered. He eyed his hand, flexing the numb joints. Feeling had begun to trickle back into his tingling fingers. His heart thrummed. “Do it again, Gimcrack.”  

“Atta boy.”

Gimcrack wrapped his fingers around Ritsu’s shoulder once more, washing Ritsu with a chill so thorough that feeling vanished from his body. Ritsu gasped, unbalanced and unfeeling.

“Go on. Walk kid.”

Ritsu held his breath, trying to orient himself, or at the very least stay upright. Vertigo washed cold through his stomach, but he forced his feet forward. The wall passed through him as though it weren’t there. Or, Ritsu supposed, as though he weren’t there.

On the other side, Ritsu dropped to his knees for a moment to catch his breath. Tingling feeling returned in waves, but it was as though his core had been wrapped in ice. His body shivered, mind recovering.

Silently, a second figure walked in beside him. Teru remained standing, squaring his hips, feet pointed decidedly forward. “Hmmm. Maybe I should have brought a thicker coat.”

Ritsu stared down at his hands, pressed to the ground. Sensation seeped back into his body, but his palms and fingers had grown colder, pressed to a floor colder than ice. The shivering wasn’t just from Gimcrack’s powers, it was from the room itself. His wits returned to him, and slowly, Ritsu remembered where they were.

He looked up. Blackness met his vision, massive and endless. He pushed himself from the floor, fished a hand around in his coat pocket, and grabbed the flashlight from within. He shot it out, and ran his thumb along the surface until the switch beveled under his touch. Ritsu flicked the beam on.

The light sliced through a cone of black, throwing clawing, climbing, stark shadows and empty hollows along every surface. Ritsu took in the scene around him.

Row upon row of carved pig carcasses hung from the ceiling, slit at the stomach and strung from hooks digging through their back hooves. They were sliced in half and gutted, ridges of milky white rib cages reflecting the light and beveling the flesh that clung to them. The chains hung in tight rows, bodies slung from the ceiling like coats at the dry cleaner. All heads had been removed.

Ritsu swung the beam. By the walls, palettes were stacked high with unprocessed carcasses. They were tied down, stiff limbs jutting out, faces wrapped in cellophane. Ritsu blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark, so that his peripheral vision filled with the hung and tethered form of pig corpses.

A second beam of light joined him from Teru’s phone, swinging around the display with flippancy. Teru walked forward in investigation, speaking casually, his words lost on Ritsu. Ritsu stayed rooted. The wind howled loud and percussive against the warehouse, warbling the walls, clanking the ceiling chains. Ritsu swallowed and exhaled, his breath frozen in front of him. His stomach squirmed.

“He’s not here, Hanazawa,” Ritsu said.

Teru stopped and turned, his light momentarily blinding Ritsu. “Hmm?”

“My brother’s not here. He can’t be. It’s a freezer. He’s not.”

Teru spun again, lighting up another ghastly display of pigs whose hollowed-out innards drank up the shadows. “He could be.”

“He’s not,” Ritsu insisted. “It’s freezing.”

“Well that’s not a problem. Any psychic worth his salt can regulate his own temperature.” Teru paused, eyes drilling into Ritsu, mouth quirked into a smile. Teru seemed perfectly comfortable. Ritsu’s body wouldn’t stop shivering.

Ritsu glowered. He turned and banged on the wall behind him. “Gimcrack! My brother’s not in here. Get us out.”

Silence met him,

“Gimcrack!”

“You know, Kageyama, I remember an old horror story I’ve heard about a place like this.”

“Hey.” Ritsu banged his palm against the icy wall once more. The sound reverberated. “Gimcrack.”

“A meat-packer had spent 30 years of his life working in a warehouse like this one. Carving up carcasses all day. Miserable work for miserable pay. And finally one day, he had enough. He pushed a few of those palettes together, and climbed to the tallest meat hook, and hung himself from it.”

Teru’s phone flashlight meandered behind Ritsu, throwing gruesome shadows against the wall Ritsu faced, the forms of bodies hung, stretched and beveled, taut on chains. Ritsu shut his eyes, bowed his head, and banged on the wall. “Gimcrack! Get us out!”

“He cursed the warehouse when he died so that no one could ever get his corpse down. It stayed there, hanging, never rotting in the cold, watching the workers until they were driven insane.”

“I’m not listening.” Ritsu opened his eyes to darkness, stars dancing in his vision. His breath fogged, though sweat dripped from his hairline. “Help me call Gimcrack.”

“His skin became desiccated. His clothes tattered. His eyes froze over, so that the liquid inside formed crystals and tore through his corneas, making them a bright, blind, milky blue. Some workers claimed he moved in the night. Others said he watched you. When he was in the very best of moods, the corpse smiled.”

“Dammit. God dammit Gimcrack. I won’t pay you! Hanazawa, help.”

“And then the warehouse closed down, and he was left there in the darkness and emptiness, finally allowed to rot. But he was lonely. So he was happy, very happy, one day when a group of curious kids broke into the warehouse and visited him. They couldn’t see him in the dark, so he had to wait for their flashlights. He prepared his best grin, his flesh all rotted. And finally, they—“

“Hanazawa.”

“—swung their light just a bit higher—“

Ritsu turned, eyes to Teru. “Shut up okay? I’m trying t—“

“Until they could… greet… his… happy… face…”

Teru snapped his phone to the top corner of the warehouse, light yanked with it, and Ritsu’s eyes followed too.

Someone stared down from the ceiling.

Piercing eyes, a wide grin stretching desiccated skin, cheeks carved out in deep shadows, body slung beneath it. The body jerked. Its head snapped to Ritsu. Its grin widened.

Ritsu gave a hollow gasp. He stumbled back, stomach bottoming out, back slamming into the wall which he crumpled down. His eyes locked to the grin that—

Teru was laughing.

Teru was howling, in fact.

Ritsu shined his own flashlight to the corner, illuminating a pig body coated in yellow aura. The aura vanished, and the pig flopped down, falling back with a sickening smack against the other pigs stacked high. Teru’s laughter echoed, mirthful to tears, from the far walls.

“Seriously?!” Ritsu swung his light to Teru.

“You should see your face,” Teru said, doubled over and wheezing with his hands to his knees. His phone light jittered with his wheezing chuckles, eating at the shadows on the floor. “Hang on hang on hang on.” He rose tall, held the phone up, grin wide and sickeningly satisfied. The light flashed. “Okay okay I took a picture. Hang on I’m sending it to you it’s great!”

“Hanazawa!”

“I got you. You shoulda seen—you—Aah!—and then back—smashed right into the wall! Oh I should have been recording!”

Ritsu’s anger iced over. His eyes shot behind Teru.

“Hanazawa.”

“I thought you—oh this picture! Oh I love this picture! Wallpaper, definitely. You just—Ahh!! Your face is like—“

“Idiot, duck!”

“—Oh, spooky! You--! Huh?”

“Duck,” Ritsu shouted.

A moment of pained confusion passed, until a low grumble shook Ritsu’s bones. Understanding snapped, and Teru threw himself to the floor, just before a creature, squealing and massive and bulbously tumored raked through the air Teru’s head had occupied. It careened forward, a globby filthy dripping monster five times as massive as the carcasses in the warehouse, and yet distinctly swine-like in its form. It dove next for Ritsu, who jumped from its path with far more grace.

“You idiot!” Ritsu shouted, head snapping to Teru, finger pointing to the rampaging beast. “You pissed it off!”

Teru watched from the floor, stunned. He patted at the ground, then his pocket, then the ground again. “Where’d my phone go?”

“I don’t know!” Ritsu yelled. He flattened himself against the wall as the swine dove again, and then Ritsu chased after it, feet pumping, flashlight bouncing out the path ahead of him. He leapt onto a palette, hurdling corpses as he raced to catch up with the creature.

Ritsu readied a lash of energy in his free hand and shot it out. It arced like a sickle, violet and razor sharp. It nicked the monster’s hind leg and then kept spinning, slashing through hung carcasses, slicing flesh and bone that rained to the ground.

Ritsu did not let up. He unleashed another shot, and another, near deaf to the squelch of flesh shredded and shorn. Only about a third of his shots hit the massive bulbous oozing green monster, the rest flung wild into chains and wall, palettes and flesh. It was enough to earn the pig’s ire. It reared back. Its eyes were replaced by tumorous growths, but its massive snout twitched, gnashing molars bared, and it shot dead center for Ritsu.

Ritsu steadied his ground. Heart pounding, he readied a burst of energy in his palm, dense and spring-coiled tight. He waited out the seconds, heart-pounding, until the creature lunged. And Ritsu released the shot from his palm.

The recoil knocked Ritsu off balance, snapping awake the old injury of his dislocated shoulder. He hissed, but kept his eyes focused, trained to the shot that exploded, and connected, and carved out a hole through the center of the beast. It let out a ghastly squeal, loud enough to shake the walls, rattle the chains into a symphony of disquiet as it crashed into the ground. Ritsu readied a coil of rope, eyes alight. His body moved naturally. The energy soaking through him was like nothing he knew before.

He knelt over the creature, which writhed and snapped but did not get up, and Ritsu coiled the rope around its snout, rendering it defenseless. He set his palm to the thing’s throat, and he felt it again, that sickly honey-sweet fear that pulsed off the creature as a form of energy. It was dense as it filled Ritsu, cold as the locker. He breathed in deeper as the thing beneath his palm withered dry. Its tumorous skin pruned like leather, until its form decayed down to bones, and then nothing but wispy tendrils that passed through Ritsu’s fingers. Ritsu exhaled, mind clearer, body thrumming with absorbed energy. He relaxed, and stood, and swung his light to Teru.

Teru stood a few feet back, watching with sharp eyes. When the beam struck his face, he gave a quick expression of disgust, tongue out and lip curled.

“You’re welcome,” Ritsu said as he walked past. He set his eyes again to the wall.

“Hey, this is your freak show. I’m here for the entertainment.” Teru came up beside Ritsu, leaning casually against the wall Ritsu banged against. “And apparently you’re here for the snacks.”

“Gimcrack! It was a spirit. We killed it.” Ritsu banged again, listening for a response. “Should I just blast us out of here?”

“I’ve never been a huge fan of pork. How’d it taste? Chewy?”

“Do you ever absorb the spirits?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Does a healthy person need blood transfusions?” Teru ran a hand through his hair, snagging on a few iced-over locks.

“…It’s a good source of energy. Try it.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, sure. And Gimcrack’s a good ally.”

Ritsu slammed his fist once more and then lowered his hand. “Where’d he go…?”

“We could always call up your mommy and daddy to come pick us up.”

“You’re hilarious,” Ritsu answered. He stepped away from the wall and swung his flashlight in search of another exit. “And of course we can’t, because they don’t know I’m gone, because that’s the point.”

“Great parents.”

“What about yours huh? They just—what—let you get away with all this shit? Or do they just so sincerely not give a shit about you that there’s no point in you hiding anything?”

“Ha.” Teru crossed his arms and leaned his back entirely against the freezer wall. “I don’t live with them, so I’m in no rush to get out of here. You seem stressed though.”

“Where do they live?”

“Around.”

Ritsu moved to the adjacent wall, side-stepping palettes to run his beam along the metal in search of a different door. “Why don’t you live with them? Did they get sick of you?”

“How long do you think you have until your parents notice you missing, Kageyama? Hopefully they’d be a bit quicker to the draw than they were with your brother.”

“No.” Ritsu made it to the far wall. His skimmed his fingers along the surface. “They’d never notice, in fact. I didn’t want to risk them realizing I snuck out, so I left Makeshift and Slipshod behind with orders to possess them if they came to check on me.”

“…You what?”

“Gimcrack did it once before, possessing my mom. It works.”

The wall in front of Ritsu beveled, shifting to an ashy violet. Gimcrack’s face oozed out of it. “Did I hear my name?”

“God fuck—there you are!” Ritsu threw his arms out, flashlight arcing wide across the ceiling.

“Ooh, spooky place.”

“I’ve been calling you!”

“Hey hey hey chill huh? I’m here. Just wanted to make sure you dealt with that porker beast before I showed my face, you dig?” Gimcrack gestured to himself. “Can’t risk hurting the merchandise.”

Ritsu fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He flicked it open, time glowing bright along its blue screen. The next bus was in 15 minutes. “Just get us out of here.”

“Roger,” Gimcrack replied, grabbing Ritsu’s shoulder and drenching him with that same icy nothing. Ritsu felt as though the floor had dropped from under him, but he steeled himself, breath held, and moved forward. He stepped through the wall, appearing on the other side of the warehouse which was hidden deeper in shadow than the parking lot side.

“Hey, Hanazawa, you coming?” Gimcrack’s voice came muffled through the wall. Ritsu coughed out a breath, and once again dropped to his knees, too numb to stand. His fingers curled in the dewy grass, and he willed sensation to return.  “Heyo, you, Blondie. What? Giving me the cold shoulder now? That’s my job, heh. Get it?”

Ritsu got one foot beneath him. He tested his weight against it. His knee shook, but he was able to rise slowly, shivering the sting of ice out of his body. He hobbled forward a step, then another into the grass, ankles brushing cold through the dew.

“Hanazawa!” Ritsu called over his shoulder, eyes set to the warehouse. His fingers trailed over the phone in his pocket, feeling the seconds tick away, the bus coming nearer. “Come on. What are you doing?”

“Well then ease up your shoulders or something then, okay? I can’t phase you if you don’t let me. Just relax your face. Come on, give me a smile.”

The wall blew.

An explosion of light and power clapped against Ritsu’s ears. He let out a yell, stumbling back, hands over his ears as he squinted, staring at the fading rush of yellow aura that had blasted through the metal siding. Alarms shrieked overhead, and Teru appeared like a ghost, pale once more under the moonlight as he stepped through the settling rubble. Ritsu stared, dumbfounded, at the hole. Gimcrack floated out, visibly shaken.

Teru walked past Ritsu, brushing himself off. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped it on before burying his face in the blue light.

“What the hell was that?” Ritsu asked, stumbling slightly to catch up.

“We’re finished here. The alarms don’t matter anymore. I could have blasted us out at any time.” Teru refused to face Ritsu. He quickened his pace, and Ritsu fell into quiet step behind him. Ritsu looked behind him, watching the warehouse fade away, the sirens drop off, until only a ringing in his ear remained. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers, feeling the buzz of newly collected energy beneath them.

“Piece of work, that kid…” Gimcrack muttered from Ritsu’s side. His eyes shifted to Ritsu, and he nudged his shoulder. “Anyway, payment for tonight.”

Ritsu conjured a crystal above his palm, now tainted green, murky in the darkness. He flicked it unceremoniously in Gimcrack’s direction, and then quickened his pace to keep up with Teru.

Five minutes of their walk passed in silence. Only then, when Ritsu looked around and saw himself, Teru, and no one else—only then did it occur to Ritsu that this mission had been a failure.

…

Mob woke up alone.

And it was an absence he could feel trickling to his core. He lay in bed, eyes open, suffocating in the nothingness around him, deafened in its silence. He stared blind at the ceiling. His body was tucked beneath the covers of his bed. A small hint of moonlight filtered in. He waited frozen, afraid to leave the bed, because he was afraid of being alone.

Slowly, with dread weighing heavy on his chest, Mob sat up. The covers pooled in his lap, and he buried his hands in the warmth. He listened, a quiet ringing nothingness settling on his ears. No snoring from the next room, no hushed babbling on the phone, no tinny television noise filtering through the door. It was an empty house. A dead house.

“Reigen…?”

Mob rose, shuffling out of the blankets. He set a ginger toe to the floor, soft carpeting molding beneath his feet. He worried the end of his braid, finger twisting through the lock of hair bound together at the end with Reigen’s rubber band. He waited. He breathed. Nothing answered.

He walked to the bedroom door. It creaked open under his touch, giving out to a hallway just as dim as his room. He waited. He listened.

“Reigen…?”

Nothing. Mob tugged harder on his braid, heartrate quickening. He’d known something had been wrong the moment he said Shishou’s name. No worse, he’d already known Reigen would be angry, and he said it anyway. He admitted to killing Shishou, and now Reigen was gone. Reigen had claimed nothing was wrong. He’d collected himself, and patted Mob’s head, and told Mob it had been a long day. Go get washed up for bed. Go sleep. He’d handle the mess in the kitchen.

Mob walked toward the kitchen. He tugged harder on his hair, feet tripping over the hem of the sweatpants Reigen had bought for him. He paused and flicked on the light. Brightness flooded down, too bright, that Mob had to squint and shield his eyes. When he looked through his fingers, he found the floor clean. The milk and cake put away. The dishes washed and drying.

“Reigen?”

Alone.

Mob turned and walked toward the couch. He eyed the television, and then the large bay window behind it. The light from the kitchen reflected loud and fuzzy against it, casting Mob’s dark silhouette against it. He looked, seeking out what he didn’t want to see. Mob put a hand out, stretching far, skimming through the air.

He couldn’t touch it. He never could. It always spread away, far from the tips of his fingers, so that he could never feel its cut. But it was there, dim and buzzing and swirling blue. He saw it in front of him. He saw it in the reflection, a gossamer bubble ringing his body.

Mob whimpered slightly. He pulled his hands in and hugged his arm. Reigen was gone. The barrier was back.

He didn’t want to check Reigen’s bedroom.

His feet moved anyway, even when Mob knew he didn’t want to see what lay beyond. Shishou’s withered face flashed through his mind, hanging body, hollow black eyes. Mob had done something to make Shishou hang himself, and now he. Again. Waking to the quiet. Feeling nothing. No presence. Alone. Alone again. Again he—

Mob turned the knob to Reigen’s room. Tears budded behind his eyes, his breathing harsh and fast. He opened the door. He didn’t want to see.

Mob looked anyway.

Nothing.

A rush of breath escaped from his lips, a relief so immediate his legs nearly buckled. Mob took a moment to collect himself. He dropped down onto the carpet and sat there, staring forward, looking above the bed. There was no hanging body. Just an empty room. Reigen had not killed himself.

Mob dug his fingers into the carpet, letting a few relieved breaths slip from his mouth. He collected himself, and pushed himself standing, and held on to the frame of the doorway. Mob turned where he stood, eyes set to the front door. He moved from carpet to tile, bare feet beating cold against the linoleum.

He grabbed the front door, and after a moment of hesitation he opened it. Cold air rushed over his face, the sound of passing cars in the distance, the buzz of the streetlamps surrounding the complex. Mob took a tentative step out onto the wooden stairway.

“Reigen? Please? Are you out here?”

Mob glanced down. Reigen’s car was gone. He worried his fingers together.

Still, Mob descended the steps. Still, he had to try. He made every motion conscious of his barrier. Averse to the touch of anything, paranoid eyes peeled for the slightest movement. He was dangerous again. He was deadly again. But he had to do something to help. This was his fault.

He moved down the driveway, gravel sticking between his toes, and the world felt open and hostile again. His nerve edged away quickly. The world was so huge—he’d forgotten. It wasn’t just Shishou’s house anymore. It was the whole of everything. Reigen could have gone anywhere. Mob’s paces slowed to a trickle. There was maybe nothing he could do.

He waited. He hesitated.

And something burst from the bushes.

It flashed into Mob’s field of vision, a blur of color fast and smooth. His eyes shot wide. Mob stumbled back. Couldn’t hurt—Couldn’t touch—He let out a strangled cry and folded in. He pulled, pulled away. Couldn’t touch. Couldn’t hurt. Couldn’t kill. Not anymore. Not again. No more.

Reigen had trained him.

He could at least.

The sound of shearing fur raked against his ears. Mob’s eyes shot wider, glassy, stomach dropping at the familiar noise of destruction. He dropped low onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands, too terrified for words, or even sounds. Small breathless gasps slipped through his fingers.

And with the gasps, Mob felt the texture of fur slip through his fingers as well.

He raised his head, and stared at his palms through tear-swimming eyes. He saw no blood, no mangled body, only the feathery form of hair strands streaked through his fingers. Mob moved his hands out of the way, and found snippets of hair littered across the ground, blowing in the wind.

He looked higher, and a single white cat stood across from him, tail flicking, paw swiping at its ear. It considered Mob for a moment before rising up and sauntering off down the road.

He hadn’t hit it. For the second time, he hadn’t hit something.

In wonder, Mob focused on the barrier. It was denser, swirled faster and harsher, an angry red, and it hovered only an inch or so from his nose. He’d pulled it in. Concentrated, angry and aggressive, he’d at least managed to pull it in.

Mob eased a fraction, and the barrier spread back out. But it listened. For the first time since it appeared, it listened.

His right hand rose, seeking to grab the end of the braid and finding nothing. The absence startled him, and so Mob searched further, feeling out his hair. Some locks still hung to his shoulder, others had shorn short. Uneven, scraggly, his bangs had been taken at an angle.

Mob retreated, beating back up the steps and shutting the door behind him. He moved as though possessed, feet taking him to the bathroom where he flicked the light on. Brightness caught, and Mob stared at the boy in the mirror.

Messy, mangled, awkwardly cut and uneven. His hair must have whipped around when he heard the cat, spinning wide when he yanked the barrier in. The rubber band had been taken. The braid had unraveled, leaving a shorter mess of poorly chopped hair.

He grabbed the edge of the sink and breathed. His mind hadn’t caught up yet. Too much had happened. Too close of a call. And Reigen was gone. And Shishou was dead. And his barrier was back and—

Mob looked up again at the mirror, and he was haunted there by the look of a boy he almost remembered. He reached out and touched his fingertips to the mirror. The cheeks were shallower, the eyes more hollow, but it was a face he almost remembered. He remembered this face. This one. As though he were still the same person underneath it all. And maybe he could be. Maybe he was.

Mob tightened his grip on the sink. His breathing calmed. He watched his eyes, and willed them to belong to the boy who never knew about barriers or basements or cockroaches skittering in the night.

He couldn’t do that. Those things were a part of him. But he realized, staring into his own eyes, they were becoming less a part of him…. He wasn’t there anymore. Not in the basement. Not with Shishou. Not with rats and not with soup and not with the barrier cutting every chance of touch. He was at Reigen’s house, and Reigen was different, and Reigen was making him different.

Mob’s shoulders slumped, and he eased down onto the plush shower mat beneath his feet. He held his legs in and watched the barrier dance through the air. He pulled once, experimentally, and it yielded to his touch, beveling closer.

Mob released it, and eased, and breathed. There was nothing he could do now except hope that Reigen was different. Hope that Reigen wasn’t like Shishou.

Hope that Reigen was coming back.

(Chapter 25 [AO3])